We Deveauxs preferred to talk you to death, rather than face you in physical combat.

Stuart must have sensed my despair from the way I began lightly banging my forehead on the table.

Tired, but not the kind of tired that sleep fixes.

The funny thing about stop signs is that they're also start signs.

I guess life is full of maybes.

Did you hear?" he asked. "They found another body around nine this morning. It's the Ripper, definitely." "Good morning," I replied. "Morning. Listen to this. The second victim.

I had always assumed the weekend was a holy tradition, respected by good people everywhere. Not so at Wexford.