Well, just Bryant in this peek…
Mr Bryant’s informants include those on the wrong side of the law, outpatients, migrants, fringe dwellers not recognised as reliable witnesses in a British court of law, and, on at least one occasion, a convicted murderer. He refuses to document his investigations in accordance with official guidelines; his office is little more than a rubbish dump; his personal habits are disgusting and, I suspect, illegal. He smokes and drinks on duty, requisitions police vehicles for personal use, falsifies reports, and is said to have on one occasion borrowed clothes awaiting DNA tests from the Evidence Room in order to attend a fancy dress party. He has an infested Tibetan human skull on his desk, and has been known to keep animal parts in the unit’s refrigerator for experiments. [pg. 7]
‘Janice is right,’ May concurred. ‘You need to watch Big Brother and Pop Idol and reality TV–that’s how normal people relax.’
Bryant was disgusted by the idea. ‘I would hate to think of myself as normal. What’s the point of working your whole life if you end up having to do what other people do?’ [pg. 30]
‘[…] I was in Vauxhall visiting my psychochiropodist,’ [Bryant] explained. ‘She reads feet. Apparently I’m about to have an unexpected brush with death. Either that or I’ve got a bunion. […]’ [pg. 56]
I was actually looking to buy a copy of this during the summer, when it was supposed to be out but I couldn’t find it! Yes: I did write buy — that’s how much I love this series by Fowler.
I’ve waited months and months and months since the last Bryant and May book. I’m going to read this over several days, savoring it.
Don’t tell me there ain’t a Santa. I got my present early! Thanks, Santa Librarianclaus!
rubbing hands in filthy nasty greedy glee
[Excerpts Copyright © 2006 Christopher Fowler. Excerpts used without explicit permission under the Fair Use provisions of Copyright law. CopyNazis can go fuck themselves.]