Praise for Danuta Kot and Life Ruins
‘Life Ruins has all the elements I love in a novel – complex characters, an insidious underlying menace, and haunting landscapes. This dark story will suck you in from the first page’
Stephen Booth, author of Fall Down Dead
‘A powerful, thought-provoking story, which perfectly evokes the bleak Yorkshire landscape… a vital read for any crime fan’
Kate Rhodes, author of Ruin Beach
‘Explores real issues, from the perspective of real, damaged people, and told with a real warmth and understanding. Danuta Kot raises the bar for all crime writers’
Michael Jecks, author of Pilgrim’s War
‘Powerful and thought provoking… I was hooked from start to finish’
The Bookwormery
‘An atmospheric story that will draw you effortlessly into the pages’
Hooked from Page One
‘Engrossing and chilling, [Life Ruins] is the perfect read for a winter’s evening where the mind can roam upon the lives and troubles of others’
Shots Magazine
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To my husband, Ken,
who died on November 25th 2019.
Then,
As sudden silence fell, a kestrel,
An armstretch away, flung against the sun
And flaunted a moment vivid rustglow and flickering wing
Before a graceful bank, a swoop, a swishing dive
Took it beyond.
From A Dying, by Ken Reah
Chapter 1
Sunk Island
Andy Yeatson was twenty-four, and he was becoming more and more certain that he was going to die.
Tonight.
He shifted on the back seat of the car as though he was trying to get comfortable and touched the door to feel where the lock was. ‘How long is this going to take?’ he asked. The girl who was driving didn’t respond.
The woman in the front passenger seat half turned her head. ‘Don’t worry. It isn’t far now.’ He caught her gaze in the mirror. There was something in her face that sent a chill through him. This woman was dangerous.
How the fuck had he got into this mess? And how was he going to get out of it? He’d been stupid, letting himself get distracted. He hadn’t been thinking about his own safety – he’d been worried about Becca. She hadn’t been replying to his texts. Maybe she was just pissed off with him, but if he was right, if his boss DS Mark Curwen was right, things were starting to kickoff at the pub where she worked, and some nasty people went in there.
It was a vile night – heavy rain whipped up by one of the storms that battered the town at this time of year. He should have stayed at his desk where he was supposed to be, but the worry kept nagging at him until he’d shoved his chair away, muttered vaguely about checking something out, headed for his car and driven off. He’d decided not to park near the pub – he was supposed to keep out of Becca’s way for the next few days and he didn’t want anyone spotting him there, but at this time of night, he could just park a couple of streets away, nip in, say hi and make sure she was OK.
He’d been walking along the road thinking about Becca, keeping to the wall for what shelter it gave, when the woman called to him.
‘Hey! Andy!’ He’d looked round and seen the car on the other side of the road. He knew the woman who was leaning out of the front passenger window, or knew her a bit – the girlfriend of one of his pub contacts. Harmless.
Or so he’d thought.
‘You going to the pub? Want a lift?’
He was cold, he was worried, he wasn’t thinking. So just like that, he’d got in. The woman was in the front passenger seat, a girl he hadn’t seen before was behind the wheel. He’d heard the clunk of the central locking, and realised, too late, he was trapped. ‘What’s happening?’ he’d said.
The woman had turned and smiled. ‘What you wanted. We’re going to meet Stoner.’
Shit, shit and shit again. He’d been in the pub night after night, posing as a buyer, someone after a big deal. He’d been waiting for the meet, and as soon as it was set up, he was supposed to alert his colleagues and get the backup he’d need.
Instead, he was stuck in the car, heading south. No one knew where he was, and there was no one to give him support. He’d made a mistake, and now his mistake could kill him.
Or could it? As far as they were concerned, he was just a small-time dealer who was trying to move into the big time. Maybe they were just going to make him an offer, and all of this was just to be sure there was no one following him.
Or… what if they knew he was a cop?
The woman chatted in a desultory manner as they drove down the road that followed the coast south. The girl said nothing, just followed the woman’s directions. Andy caught her eye in the mirror once and smiled at her. She went a bit pink and looked away. She was a pretty girl with a mop of fair hair – seemed too nice to be hanging out with this lot.
He had a choice. Go through with the meeting, play dumb. Tell them that he couldn’t do a deal like this with no warning. They couldn’t just kidnap him off the streets and expect him to come through.
But they knew that, and they’d done it anyway.
He glanced out of the back window, and realised someone was following them. He’d been aware of a motorbike in the road behind them for a while, but instead of passing them and
