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The Bet

The door is opened by a late middle-aged man holding a wet flannel on his forehead. The call has come in as the lowest category of call, the...

One two seven High Street, Suburbia. I know that address. I know that it's not where we're actually needed. It's the centre wher...

We spread out and search a room each. The police broke the door down, leaving the splintered remains of the frame lying all over the carpet,...

A grand old house, maybe a century old, maybe even older, stands at the top of the long, dark road. Balloons and a Welcome Home sign hang o...