Bill Slider

The murder of any journalist is bound to whip the media into a frenzy. So when ex-BBC correspondent Ed Stonax is found dead, the last thing Detective Inspector Bill Slider needs to complicate his life is the reappearance of an old enemy issuing death threats. Trevor Bates, aka The Needle, is on the loose and trying to kill him. Along with that and a high-profile murder to solve, he must try to find a spare moment to marry Joanna before their baby is born.

David Rogers was a doctor, handsome, charming and rich. He lived the lifestyle of the consultant - expensive clothes, top restaurants, exclusive clubs - until someone killed him in the hallway of his lovely million-plus-pound house. Was he killed for passion, professional jealousy, or plain old money? Bill Slider and his firm are thrown into the mystery, but they soon discover that nothing is as it seems, for though David’s girlfriends are plenty, none of them can tell Slider anything about where he worked or exactly what it was he did.…

When Melanie Hunter goes missing it is completely out of character for the polite, friendly palaeontologist, and the men in her life come under suspicion. And there’s plenty to suspect: lies, half-truths, deceptions.... It soon becomes clear that there are secrets in Melanie’s past, and pain she tried to hide from the world. Bill Slider and his team investigate, and if they are to succeed then they will need to find the answer to two questions: Who loved Melanie? And who loved her too much?

A scorching August day, and a handsome young man is found dead in his bath. Suicide is not a detective inspector’s business, but Bill Slider’s colleague takes one look at the body and calls in his boss: 'It don’t look right to me, guv.' Slider has to agree. There’s the method of death, a single slash to the jugular; men don’t usually cut. And his wallet and keys are missing. Either this was suicide with concealment in mind - or murder.

The late Mr Lionel Bygood, who looks, to all intents and purposes, like an old-fashioned sort of gentleman, has been bashed in the head with a bronze statue, in what Doc Cameron describes as 'our old friend the Frenzied Attack'. It soon emerges that Mr Bygood was a philanthropist, well-known locally for giving help and advice to all who needed it, from all walks of life.

Antiques expert Rowland Egerton, the darling of daytime TV, has been stabbed to death in his luxurious West London home. The press are going to be all over this one like a nasty rash: the pressure's on Slider for a result, and soon. Egerton's partner, the bulky, granite-faced John Lavender, found the body; did he also do the deed? Or was it a burglary gone wrong? A missing Faberge box and Impressionist painting point that way. But as Slider and his team investigate, none of the facts seem to fit.

A middle-aged man jumps under a tube train at Shepherd's Bush station, and a teenage girl is killed in a hit-and-run in a country lane puzzlingly far from her home on the White City Estate: two unrelated incidents which occupy DCI Bill Slider and his team during a slack period. At least it's a change of speed after the grind of domestics, burglaries and Community Liaison. But links to a cold case - another dead teenager, pulled out of the River Thames - create doubts as to whether they are indeed unrelated.

A young couple discover human remains buried in the garden of their new house. Could this be the resting place of 14-year-old Amanda Knight, who disappeared from the same garden two decades before and was never seen again? The problem comes almost as a relief to DCI Slider, still suffering from the fallout of his previous case. He is not popular with the Powers That Be, and his immediate boss, Detective Superintendent Porson, reckons that at least this little puzzle will keep Slider out of trouble.

The body of a smartly dressed businessman turns up in the yard of Eli Simpson's car workshop. But there's no ID in the pockets, and Eli swears he's never seen the man before. Then a girlfriend turns up with a name and claims the victim told her he was someone's 'right-hand man'. But old fractures and scars suggest a more colourful past.

For 'right-hand man', DCI Bill Slider and his team read 'enforcer'. So who was Mr King? Who was he the muscle for? What did he have to do with the Davy Lane project and the blackmailing of an MP? And, most crucially, what did he know that made someone decide to terminally muscle the muscle?