A Reason To Kill (DI Matt Barnes Book 1)
Book 1 in the DI Matt Barnes Series.
Detective Inspector Matt Barnes is a cop dedicated to his job at the expense of all else. He and his team are protecting the star witness in the upcoming trial of gangland boss, Frank Santini.
All aspects of Matt’s life are altered forever when Santini hires a contract killer, Gary Noon, to hit the safe house. Only Matt survives the onslaught of an inventive and sadistic killer, but is left seriously wounded.
The subsequent search for Noon is both a personal and professional challenge, during which Matt is aided by Criminal Psychologist Dr. Beth Holder, who is brought in to build a profile on Noon.
The man they seek comes to consider Matt a threat to his continued wellbeing, and determines to eliminate him.
As Matt and Beth’s relationship flourishes, more people die at Noon’s hand, and events conspire to bring the cop and killer ever closer to a deadly showdown.
With an unknown enemy within New Scotland Yard, Santini’s goons hunting for him, and a second imported hitman also on his trail, Matt knows that the odds against him surviving by outmanoeuvring the various factions are at best slim.
Noon is the personification of evil; a psychopath using violence and cruelty to feed his sadistic needs. He considers himself a hunter: his fellow man, and especially Matt Barnes, the prey.
building the previous evening, slipping through the door before it could self-lock. Violet Fuller had survived World War Two, outlived three husbands, and was – despite chronic angina – still self-reliant and mobile at the age of eighty-eight. Violet shared her flat with three cats: Charity, Mrs. Beeton and Tabitha. And although not without a tidy sum of money (untouched and accruing a meagre amount of interest in the local branch of the Nationwide) she was thrifty, using teabags several times
and nostrils. The image of Gary’s face had appeared on the screen, with the words POLICE KILLER underneath it. Still coughing, retching, her eyes misty with tears, she cranked up the volume. “Do you know this man?” the talking head that replaced Gary’s asked. It was Carolyn Kirby, a blonde, Madonna type, who could fix an appropriate expression on her face to suit every news item. She was as plausible as the average daytime soap star. Marion believed that as well as words, directions of when to
living bracelet. “Shit!” He jerked backwards and sucked in air at the sudden, hot, needle sharp pain. Gripping the hairy mass with his other hand, he pulled it off, tossed it back into the tank and slammed the lid down. “What the hell was that?” Tom said. “A fucking spider the size of a dinner plate,” Matt exaggerated. “The bastard just bit me.” The puncture marks on the inside of his wrist were oozing twin streams of blood. “It’s a tarantula, or to be more precise, a mygalomorph,” DC
was he being told to back off? Surely they would want the DI watched until he made contact with the gangster. That would seal it. No matter. His was not to reason why. He had done his bit, and when it all came out he would be acclaimed for his part in it. Should be made Detective sergeant at the very least. “It’s six in the fucking morning,” Carlo Falco hissed into the phone. “I don’t give a fuck what time it is. Just put Frank on. This is important.” “The boss is asleep.” “So wake him up,
the estate. I don’t want the filth crawling all over the place. Capisci?” “Yeah, boss.” Red gave Naomi sixty seconds to get her shit together and vanish. She said nothing, just complied. She could feel the tension, and was astute enough to know that something big had gone down. Red phoned Tiny. Told him that the operation was off, and that he and Eddie were needed back at Rocco’s, pronto. He finished up by calling Carlo and relaying Dom’s plan. “That’s gonna be a bitch, Red,” Carlo said. “The