Unlucky for Some: A Novel of Suspense
Selected by The Times (London) as one of the twentieth century’s “100 Masters of Crime,” Jill McGown writes mystery-suspense novels with plots that defy second-guessing. In Unlucky for Some, her thirteenth book featuring Detective Chief Inspectors Lloyd and Hill, the quiet life of an English town scarcely conceals the deadly menace lurking around dark corners and within the human mind.
Michael Waterman is a self-made millionaire. His casinos and nightclubs ensure a constant flow of cash, and Waterman knows what he needs to do to keep it that way. So far, it seems, he has stayed on the right side of the law. Certainly, no one seriously suspects him of murdering bingo player Wilma Fenton, who was struck down while walking home with a purse crammed full of winnings. Her murder looks like an ordinary mugging except for one oddity: The killer had left Wilma’s money neatly fanned out across her body.
The motive behind the bafflingly violent act dogs Lloyd and Hill– now married and the harried parents of a two-year-old daughter. The stakes are raised with a second murder, modeled on the first . . . and then a third. A cold-blooded killer is challenging not only the police but the one witness to the first slaying: England’s premier expert on serial crime, well-known journalist and TV personality, Tony Baker. It has now become a twisted game of madness and logic–in which failure to outwit the murderer means more senseless deaths.
In this astonishing Lloyd and Hill novel, Jill McGown’s storytelling genius will captivate longtime fans as well as first-time readers. Unlucky for Some is lucky for all admirers of virtuoso suspense writing.
From the Hardcover edition.
killed?” “Because Ben would know that he’d done that, and would never forgive him,” said Lloyd. “He does what he does because he loves Ben—however cockeyed that seems.” Finch looked thoughtful. “Waterman gave Stephen the gun cabinet,” he said. “He could still have a key to it, couldn’t he?” Gary’s eyes widened when he heard that. “He was in the pub this morning, sir, on his own. If he has got a key, he could have got hold of the rifle and given it to Scopes.” “As your acting superintendent, I
Scopes, who says he saw Stephen do it.” Tom was shaking his head, his face flushed. “What do they amount to?” he asked. “There are only two normal people in that lot, and they both saw the same thing. The others are a man who wanted Stephen beaten up, the man who was going to do the beating up, and a man who was trying to frame him for murders he himself committed.” He was pacing backward and forward as he spoke. “Who’s going to believe a word they say?” “Sit down, please, Tom, you’re making me
the prize with her, and the winners’ envelopes have that decoration on the border. They’ve got Bull’s Eye bingo club and the winner’s name printed on them, but you can’t see that because of how she’s lying.” “So if the money was in a recognizable envelope, why would a mugger take the time to open it at the scene? Come to that—why wouldn’t he just grab her bag? And how come she’s lying on the envelope, instead of the other way round?” “Quite.” They were clearly getting in the way of the
gather that everything’s a little more relaxed than it is during the week, when he’s likely to pop in. He says Shaw arrived at about twenty-five to nine and left again just before Keith came back.” “I’ll have a word with him tomorrow,” said Tom. “He might have seen something Jerry didn’t see. And I want to know if he saw Halliday coming back, and if so, when.” “We’ll need to talk to Stephen Halliday anyway,” said Judy. “He might know if Mrs. Fenton went into her flat or not. Did she go in and
themselves. An amateur mugging was the official view, and Stephen Halliday was the closest thing they had to a suspect, but they didn’t have anything like enough to charge him. Anyway, it seemed to Tom that he was even less likely now that they had a slightly more detailed statement from Tony Baker. He couldn’t recall the assailant wearing anything on his head, or the color of his hair. Stephen’s fair hair would have stood out, even in the dim light. If there was one thing they knew, it was that