Jack Mowgley Crime Thriller
1 primary work • 2 total works
Book 3
Detective Inspector John 'Jack' Mowgley grows ever more world-weary as his views on justice, duty and law enforcement become increasingly out of date. Rather than adapt to and conform with current thinking on positive policing, the dinosaur detective likes to do things his way, and consequently lurches from one crisis to the next. His fiefdom is a Continental ferry port on the south coast, but he fears he will lose control as he faces constant interference and criticism from his new boss, a very politically-correct policeman. The latest Inspector Mowgley Murder Mystery starts in a seaside caff as our hero mulls on the comparative virtues of ketchup or brown sauce on sausage sandwiches. Then his loyal assistant DS Catherine Mc Carthy arrives to report an event at the ferry port. A holidaying pensioner has suffered a heart attack after being stopped by Customs and having no explanation of why he is carrying a money belt stuffed with high denomination currency. As Mowgley and McCarthy investigate, they become involved in a series of increasingly brutal and bizarre murders on a trail which leads them from the seedier streets of Portsmouth to the hotspots of southern Spain...
In Death a la Carte, bad-boy Police Inspector Jack Mowgley has jumped before being pushed and taken early retirement. With no prospects in England, he has moved across the Channel to set up in Cherbourg as a private investigator. His intentions are to live off the colourful band of British expats in the area while funding the restoration of his mostly-ruined manor house in the Normandy countryside. He expects to encounter nothing more demanding than cases of marital infidelity and financial irregularities, but soon finds himself involved in people trafficking, drug smuggling and a series of murders most foul.This must be read to the shocking end.Extracts: It occurred to Mowgley that the body on the bench was more like a shop window mannequin being prepared for display than a mutilated corpse. The comparison came to mind because there were no hands protruding from the cuffs of the sleeves, or head from the collar of the snow-white shirt... Coco Lecoq looked like an uncomfortable cross between an Old Testament prophet and the mad professor in Back to the Future. He had a shock of red hair, a moustache to rival Asterix the Gaul, and possibly the worst set of teeth Mowgley had seen in Normandy, which was saying something.An all-round arts enthusiast, Coco also staged regular open concerts in the square beside the pub. Last year he had arranged an exchange deal which involved the St - Sauveur Ladies Glee Club travelling to perform in a punk venue in East Dulwich, while the club had sent as its representatives a band called 'We Hate Fucking Foreigners'.