By G. H. Ephron
If the one witness to a homicide has amnesia, how do you capture the killer?
Instead of matching fingerprints or DNA, forensic psychologist Dr. Peter Zak solves situations by way of learning mental clues and phenomena. Peter, whose forte is the mind and behaviour, consults for the Boston public defenders workplace, interpreting the idea tactics and personalities of witnesses and defendants.
Sylvia Jackson was once shot within the head and left for lifeless, her boyfriend murdered. Waking from a coma after six weeks, she recollects nothing-until 3 months later, whilst she starts off to keep in mind information of the crime and the killer. ultimately, Syl accuses her ex-husband, remembering what feels like incontrovertible proof of his guilt. yet Stuart Jackson turns out destroyed by means of his ex's ordeal; may possibly he fairly be to blame of this vicious crime?
Peter hand over consulting on trials a 12 months in the past whilst his spouse was once brutally murdered by way of a killer angered by way of Peter's recommendation of an madness protection. but if his outdated colleagues demand support with this extraordinary case, he's hooked. It's Peter's activity to figure out how trustworthy Syl's reminiscence fairly is, and to take advantage of these thoughts to discover the truth.
Amnesia is certain to be the beginning of an interesting and unique crime series.
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Extra info for Amnesia (Peter Zak, Book 1)
Morton reached out and tugged his coat sleeve. “Come along, Jimmy,” he said softly, feeling, himself, both sorrow and guilt. Half-reluctantly, the young man turned away, and they pushed through the crowd, which was suddenly abuzz with chatter, and even laughter. But neither Morton nor Presley shared in this odd sense of release. They went quite a distance before a hackney-coach presented itself. Morton quietly gave the driver the address of the Bow Street Magistrate's Court, not wanting anyone in the crowd to hear.
Morton saw despair written there, but defiance as well, and anger. “Here's a pleasant diversion for you,” the condemned man hurled out, “watching old Caleb Smeeton and his good wife hang! ” He paused and Morton thought the man would break down, but he went on, strangely calm. “But how did those fine Bow Street men know where to nab us? Just where to be, and at what hour? ” he bitterly answered his own question, and glared out at the crowd. “Friends like you … “Aye, one of our own peached on us… the same as told us about the panney, and what hour the owner would be away.
Acton hesitated. ” The jarvey's shoulders sagged. “Off Cartwright Square,” he said. ” Morton mulled it over a moment more. “What is it you're not telling me, Ralph? ” “Nay, nay. ” The jarvey shifted from foot to foot. Morton stared hard at the man, but it had only the effect of causing him to shift more rapidly. The Runner drew out his hand, with a single shilling in it, which he turned reflectively in his fingers. “I will find out what happened to Mr. Glendinning, Ralph, you may be sure of that.