Hodder & Stoughton
'He was definitely dead, whoever he was. He wore a once-black
jumper and a pair of shiny tracksuit bottoms. The back of his head
was cracked and his hair matted, but it had been foxy before that.
A tall man, a skinny rake, another string of piss, now departed.
She hadn't gotten a look at his face before she flaked him with the
Holy Stone and she couldn't bring herself to turn him over.' One
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