![Where the Bodies Lie](http://img.images-bn.com/static/redesign/srcs/images/grey-box.png?v11.8.5)
![Where the Bodies Lie](http://img.images-bn.com/static/redesign/srcs/images/grey-box.png?v11.8.5)
Paperback
-
PICK UP IN STORECheck Availability at Nearby Stores
Available within 2 business hours
Related collections and offers
Overview
In a small city somewhere in an oil-rich Canadian province just east of the Rockies, a political scandal has erupted: an aging cabinet minister has struck and killed a member of his local constituency executive with his half-ton truck, in broad daylight. But the premier suspects that there is more to this "accident" than meets the eyeand he wants to know the real reasons behind it before the media or his political rivals do.
Enter the premier's old friend Harry Asherlawyer, former hockey star, self-styled intellectual, and recent divorcéwho is hired to dig into the incident. And it isn't long before Asher's investigation threatens to expose a chain of corruption that implicates many of the province's most powerful citizensincluding the province's legendary now-senile premieras well as its most cherished founding myths.
In Where the Bodies Lie, Mark Lisac (author of Alberta Politics Uncovered and The Klein Revolution) draws upon his decades of experience as a reporter at Alberta's provincial legislature to craft an absorbing debut novelpart political thriller, part fablethat opens up timeless themes of friendship, love, the inescapability of grief, the weight of history, and the nature of truth.
Product Details
ISBN-13: | 9781926455501 |
---|---|
Publisher: | NeWest Publishers, Limited |
Publication date: | 04/15/2016 |
Pages: | 246 |
Product dimensions: | 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.00(d) |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Excerpt from Chapter 1
He looked up at Turlock in the witness box. The spectators' faces were still. Turlock's was immobile. He had dark eyes and a dark shadow of beard that could never be shaved close enough to lose its colour against his skin. Asher remembered those dark eyes had never spilled much emotion other than suspicion. Now they had no suspicion because Turlock knew who was playing what role and what was coming. He didn't need to calculate and prepare anymore. He simply needed to last out the insults.
The judge rotated his gaze constantly from the prosecutor, to Turlock and to the surface of the desk in front of him. He had once been the subject of rumours about a teenage girl he had represented when he'd been a defence lawyer. Now he had perfected the blank judicial mask so completely that it was difficult to believe he would ever feel or risk anything again.
Asher wondered if the judge would call a recess or if the prosecutor would ask for a break. They had heard plenty of evidence. Turlock's lawyer had heard enough to sink into a quizzical gloom, his chin resting on his right hand. Asher had heard nothing that interested him.
The prosecutor turned a page of her binder. Asher looked at her nondescript brown hair, cut to just above the shoulders of the cloak. He hadn't seen her face in at least thirty minutes. He had long been intrigued by the way her cute snub nose contrasted with her coarsened cheeks, which looked perpetually windburnt.
She began her next question and Asher felt his body suddenly hum into attention. He flicked his gaze back to Turlock.
Turlock kept still in his seat and tried to look matter-of-fact as he explained that yes, he had killed Apson and then explained why. But the leaden shadow on Turlock's face shifted slightly as his cheeks tightened and the dark eyes glittered and expanded just enough. Asher knew he had found what he needed.
Turlock said, "He had the brains of a gopher. That's what you do with gophersrun 'em over with your truck."