Greed [antikvár]

PROLOGUEA smear of blood was still visible around the edge of the hand, where it had been severed cleanly from the rest of the arm. The flesh around the fingers had started to tighten and decay. On the second finger there was a nvisted gold ring, but the metal had been streaked and discoloured, as if exposed to a sudden, searing heat.The Labrador dropped the hand on to the ground, shaking it free from its mouth.Jack Turner looked up. It was early morning, the dew still fresh on the fields. The dog had bounded back from a small patch of woodland, on a hill that looked across the Kent countryside and out to Ashford beyond. Turner took this walk with the dog every morning. Never before had he come across anything more interesting than an empty beer can.He bent down, examining the hand more closely. The skin retained a soft, creamy colour. Whoever it once belonged to, it was certainly a woman. 'Dodger,' Turner shouted to the Labrador. 'Follow, boy.'He marched quickly in the direction of the woods. The wind was whistHng through the trees and there was a distinct chill in the air. In the background, Turner1