By John Verdon
Ett påkostat utomhusbröllop får ett makabert slut. Mitt below festen hittas den unga bruden död. Halshuggen med huvudet placerat på en stol framför kroppen. Polisen misstänker genast den mexikanske trädgårdsmästaren. males brudens mor misstror polisens teorier som inte leder någon vart och söker upp Dave Gurney, en av New York-polisens vassaste mordutredare som nyligen pensionerats.
Dave har bestämt sig för att nu äntligen umgås mer med sin hustru och tillsammans med henne njuta av lugnet på landsbygden. males innerst inne vantrivs han med sin nya livsstil och därför kan han inte säga nej när han får chansen att ta sig an ett intressant fall.
När Dave Gurney börjar gräva i brudparets bakgrund upptäcker han en rad egendomliga omständigheter. Snart inser han att det inte bara handlar om ett mord utan om flera sadistiska brott. lower than ytan döljer sig en mörk brottsintrig, som får Gurney att frukta både för sitt eget och för sin frus liv.
Blunda hårtär den andra boken om den före detta mordutredaren Dave Gurney. John Verdon målar här skickligt upp en bild av ondska som hållits vid liv genom flera generationer. Det är på samma gång både ett rörande mänskligt och ett alldeles ohyggligt drama.
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Additional resources for Blunda hårt
She languidly reached behind her and got hold of a box of syringes and a Bic ballpoint pen. Weed watched with growing terror as Smoke started heating a needle in the candle flame while Divinity smashed the pen with the butt of the vodka bottle. She pulled out the slender ink tube and dabbed a dot of black ink on her wrist, as if she were testing the warmth of baby's milk. 'We got it, sugar,' she said. 'Get your ass over here,' Smoke ordered Weed. Weed was paralyzed. ' His voice got small again.
Weed downed his second cup of vodka and thought he might be sick. 'Sure I seen 'em,' he stuttered. ' Smoke laughed. ' Everybody laughed with him, including Weed. Weed tried to get cocky and show no fear. 'Fuck,' Weed strutted. ' Smoke snapped his fingers at Divinity. She pulled up her shirt and smiled at Weed. He stared, his mouth falling open, his face so hot he thought he had a bad fever. She had tattoos of targets and flower petals in places he could not believe. 'You can look, but you touch and I shoot your balls off,' Smoke said in a menacing tone.
Weed asked. 'Give him some,' Smoke ordered Divinity. She poured a cup of vodka for Weed and laughed when he hesitantly took it from her. ' Smoke jerked his head at Weed. Weed's daddy drank straight liquor all the time, but Weed never had. He knew it made his daddy mean and sent him out running around and not coming back, sometimes the entire weekend Weed was visiting. The vodka burned and almost gagged Weed. Instantly his face heated up and his brain got lighter. 'Naw,' Smoke said as he held out his cup for more and gestured for Divinity to refill Weed's as well.