What Doesn't Kill You
DI Fenchurch East London Crime Thrillers, Book 3
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Narrated by:
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Angus King
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By:
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Ed James
A missing child. A dead lawyer. Long-awaited answers.
While helping to police a heated discussion on City of London territory, DI Simon Fenchurch is called out to an East London building site.
A young City lawyer has been assaulted and brutally murdered.
Initial inquiries lead Fenchurch to a driver employed by Travis, a controversial new app-based cab company.
Within days another woman is murdered. A Travis driver.
As the body count rises, Fenchurch delves into the crimes and unveils a murky conspiracy that some will do anything to keep hidden.
When familiar faces begin to emerge from the shadows, Fenchurch realizes this case is more personal than he’d thought.
Could he finally be on the brink of solving the mystery that has dogged him for more than a decade: Who abducted his daughter, Chloe—and where is she now?
Or did she die?
Perfect for fans of Ian Rankin, Mark Billingham, JD Kirk, and Alex Smith, What Doesn't Kill You continues the best-selling Detective Simon Fenchurch series of gritty police procedurals.
©2016 Scott Cullen, Ltd (P)2023 Scott Cullen, LtdListeners also enjoyed...
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I'm not sure yet if I will continue with this series or not. Maybe....
Really have to suspend your disbelief for this one
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Finally we find out what happened. Or do we? I’m kind of over it. But just kind of. I think It’s going to take me one more volume to figure out because I’m invested and I really liked another of his series so I guess I’m just hopefully chasing the past high.
Please, though, PLEASE; Less chewing sounds, stabbing of eyes, terrible English Mexican food? I mean potatoes? No.
whah whah whah. It’s so much self absorption marinated in pity. Got it. Abbey just says “Simon! Let it go” for 20 odd boring years because typewriters are interesting enough to explain some deeper monologue of the wasted time of fixing needed in the mourning of a lost past no longer needed, yet prized.
All Women characters are paper thin and ready to crinkle up and blow in the wind with the first burp or weird bodily function proper enough to be laughed at by a cool English Gen x cop. Men Cops there are all Losers born into some relentless mold and silently dirt-clodding their way through life; either turning into mud or drying up as the rain or liquor sees fit. A little more earthy than the women, yet just unalterable monuments of nature’s consuming process. Am I ever going to ever find a deeper meaning for all these fatuous events? Is England really just full of pedophiles everywhere every time, ever when why how? Is there anything else ever happening ever anywhere? This may be my last straw in the thatched roofs of beautiful Agatha Christie memorial villages chronicled by a century of gorgeously documented puzzles of a notational pride from the UK I’ve scrutinized obsessively. I don’t know if it’s just my OCD or if I will be rescued from these doldrums of weariness. Therein lies the rub? Yes, that’s right. Maybe no one besides Agatha Christie and Shakespeare can do it so well. So just sit back and enjoying the trying. So Of course that’s all there is?
Bloody Hell
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Not to be missed
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Best read ever
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The best book!
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