
He was found in the shrubbery in front of the Word of God House in Albatross Road, West Five. It was the thirtieth of March, during the evening rush-hour. It was bloody cold; and an office worker had tripped over the body when he was caught short going home. I don't know if you know Albatross Road where it runs into Hanger Lane, but if you do you'll appreciate what a ghastly lonely area it is, with the surface-level tube-station on one side of the street, and dank, blind buildings, weeping with damp, on the other.
I don't know Albatross Road, as it happens (and a quick scout of Google Maps reveals I never could, although Hanger Lane W5 exists). But my mind's eye has had a pretty good go at imagining it.
My posts this week
Spitting on a Soldier's Grave by Robert Widders
Dallas crime fiction
Berlin at War by Roger Moorhouse
Programme for Government/Minister for Housing and Planning
Seattle crime fiction
"This book represents a ‘William Gibson moment’ for the critical social sciences."
I've had a copy of that book on my TBR pile for some time. Worth reading? You don't really say.
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