A disturbing but down to earth read - where each page brings new surprises, most not pleasant. In fact it's so descriptive in parts it makes you shudder. PI Robin Llewellyn is an alcoholic - useless at his job, doesn't seems to care, but knows he has to make money to buy the next drink - and any means will do. Not for the fainthearted but if you're up for it, it's a good thriller with subtle twists.
I was still trying to get up when I got the kick in the ribs; after those he moved on to the face, and pretty soon after that I passed out, to what sounded like my own bones breaking.
When I came to I could hardly move. My body had seized into a knot of pain. I ran my hands over my pockets as slowly as I could and they were all empty. The car keys, the wallet, the envelope full of money: all gone. I could tell from the carry-on behind me that the pub was still open, and doing a roaring trade. It looked like I was buying a few rounds on the house tonight after all. I crawled a little farther down the road, as far away from the White Hart as I was able, and every inch sent a jolt through me. I dropped into a shop doorway and waited to pass out again, knowing that when I came to a second time it would be even worse.