Sinister Tide [antikvár]

Author's NoteAll the characters portrayed are creatures of the author's imagination and bear no relationship to any living person.The same principle of pure invention applies to all residences whether located in Britain or Europe. And equally, certain small villages in Britain are imagined and non-existent.PrologueThe dark wave, a motionless fisherman on its crest, rolled across the estuary north of Dartmoor towards them in the chill night. A new moon cast a pallid light on the sea-sodden body.'That man is dead,' Paula Grey said, her tone sombre. 'Look for yourself.'She handed the night-vision binoculars to Tweed, standing beside her. They were leaning against the stone sea wall at Appledore, an old town located where the rivers Torridge and Taw met to form the wide estuary. On the opposite shore small houses, their walls whitewashed, glowed in the moonlight. Instow.'Yes, he is dead,' Tweed agreed. 'With the tide still coming in he'll soon be washed up on the beach below us.''Must have fallen overboard from a fishing smack out at sea,' commented Superintendent Roy Buchanan from Scotland Yard. 'I'm still wondering why you summoned me here so urgently.''I told you, Roy,' Tweed snapped. 'Because of the message that came into SIS headquarters in London. From that evil genius, Dr Goslar.''Probably a hoax 'Buchanan, tall, lean, in his forties, stood speaking as Bob Newman, international foreign correspondent, came running up the steps from the beach. He