Here’s the blurb:
A dead body. A hoard of forged banknotes. A gangster out for blood.
Newcastle, December 1955. Returning home after a weekend away, singer and amateur sleuth Rosie Robson discovers a man lying on a baggage trolley with his throat cut. After the police get involved, an attack on Rosie and her boss prompts Inspector Vic Walton to find a safe house for the pair. But the bad guys seem to be one step ahead of them and Rosie is forced to track down a possible witness to the murder in a bid to learn the truth. Can the canny crooner solve the mystery before a Newcastle gang boss catches up with her?
Set on Tyneside, Blood on the Tyne: Red Snow is book #3 in the Rosie Robson Murder Mysteries series.
Purchase Link – https://geni.us/3PKXkN
Extract from: Blood on the Tyne: Red Snow by Colin Garrow (contains some strong language)
Having tracked down the train station porter to a Gateshead apartment, Rosie and Frankie question him about money he stole from the dead man’s pocket. Finally admitting his crime, the porter hands over the money. But a man in a trench coat is watching the building:
Frankie wandered into the kitchen while I counted the notes. Three hundred and thirty pounds. I looked up at the porter. ‘Not worth getting killed over, is it?’
He worked his mouth for a minute. ‘Ye’re sayin it belongs to that Danny Fisher, are ye?’
‘Know him, do you?’
‘Only by reputation.’ He pointed to the money. ‘So are yous gonna give it him back?’
I laughed. ‘Don’t be daft. This’ll go to the police.’
Martin’s eyes widened. He stared at me. ‘But what if Fisher thinks Ah’ve still got it?’
I hadn’t considered what the consequences might be for Martin if Fisher did track him down. I studied the carpet for a moment, thinking. ‘If he didn’t suspect you’d nicked it, he’d have no reason to come visiting, would he?’
He glared at me. ‘But ye said,’ stabbing the air with a grubby finger, ‘ye said if Ah didn’t talk to yous, Ah’d have to deal with Fisher.’
I shook my head. ‘I implied that if we were able to find you, sooner or later he would too.’
His eyes almost popped out of his head. ‘Jezaz Christ. So, he might still turn up here, eh?’
‘He might. But if no-one saw you take the cash, there’s nothing to worry about.’ I looked hard at him. ‘No-one didsee you, did they?’ I’d dismissed the idea that Fisher might’ve seen something while he’d been standing by the bridge on the station platform. If he had seen the porter messing with the body, he’d have been here already, and we’d likely have another dead body to deal with.
‘Oh, Christ, man.’ Martin threw his hands up in the air. ‘When Ah found the money, Ah shook so much Ah could hardly walk. Ye could’ve driven a steam train up me arse and Ah’d not have noticed.’
I tried not to laugh. Resting a hand on his arm, I said, ‘Look. We’ll tell the police where we got it and they’ll probably come round to speak to you. If you’re worried about anything—’
Frank grabbed my shoulder. ‘We’ve got a problem, bonny lass.’
I followed him back into the kitchen. The man in the trench coat stood in the lane, looking up at the flat. Now though, he had two more men with him. Behind him, Maurice’s car had been pushed out of its hiding place.
‘Is that who I think it is?’
‘It’s not the fuckin Pied Piper, that’s for sure,’ said Frankie.
Back in the living room, I caught sight of Martin making for the front door.
‘I wouldn’t do that, Mr Sutherland,’ I called.
He turned and stared at me. ‘Well Ah’m not bloody stayin here to get me neck sliced open.’
‘No, and neither are we. Is there a fire escape?’
He paused. ‘Not from this building.’ He came back into the room. ‘If we could get onto the roof…’
‘Aye. The warehouse next door has a fire escape.’
Frankie pushed past me and opened the flat door. Me and Martin followed him. Gazing over the banister into the stairwell below, we peered into darkness. Everything seemed quiet.
Frankie shushed me. Lowering his voice, he murmured, ‘There’s someone there.’
Turning to the porter, I whispered, ‘How do we get to the roof?’
I didn’t hear what Martin said, my attention focused on the shadowy figures sliding up the first flight of stairs towards us.
Blood on the Tyne: Red Snow by Colin Garrow is an exciting murder mystery set in and around Newcastle, Gateshead, Sunderland and Northumberland in 1955.
Many of the locations are familiar to me, and I could quite happily trace Rosie’s journey upon discovering a body at Newcastle train station on her return from York.
This really is a fast-paced tale of murder, mayhem, forgery and gangsters. Rosie is headstrong even when embroiled in something far beyond her control. She’s resourceful and determined to find out the truth and stay alive.
Surrounding her is a great cast of supporting characters, and the story takes some quite unexpected twists and turns before reaching its conclusion.
As might be expected, there is some foul language throughout the book, and the author has also done a great job of ensuring the Geordie accent is prevalent throughout. Readers will quickly come to ‘hear’ the characters as well as read about them.
An entertaining read.
Meet the Author
True-born Geordie Colin Garrow grew up in a former mining town in Northumberland and has worked in a plethora of professions including taxi driver, antiques dealer, drama facilitator, theatre director and fish processor. He has also occasionally masqueraded as a pirate. Colin’s published books include the Watson Letters series, the Terry Bell Mysteries and the Rosie Robson Murder Mysteries. His short stories have appeared in several literary mags, including: SN Review, Flash Fiction Magazine, The Grind, A3 Review, Inkapture and Scribble Magazine. These days he lives in a humble cottage in Northeast Scotland.
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