Priest Detective Books นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Unlike the clear water and white rice at the foot of the big Buddha statue, here we have a dish of sliced red meat and I swear that’s a bottle of Jim Beam. Well, the Catholics have their bread and wine. A tassel dangling from the prayer beads passes between the old monk’s fingers, his whispering ceases and his eyes flick open, fixed on mine. He smiles, as if we’re both in on some private joke. Norbu speaks up from behind me. “Rinpoche, this is Detective Landry, the private eye you requested.” Jigme Rinpoche nods. In my peripheral vision I detect Norbu bowing and retreating from the room. The senior monk coils the string of beads around his wrist and extends his hand. I offer mine to shake, b

Almost hypnotised by the sight of it, a blur of black smeared the edge of my vision, and I glanced across the road to see a priest crossing in front of a gelato parlour, a tan leather satchel clutched under his arm, his heavy, dark robes swishing behind him as he walked. I gasped and pushed myself instinctively closer to Ethan, who squeezed my hand in return, barely even giving the priest a second look. 'Not all priests are agents of the Council,' he said, as we continued to walk, and I glanced furtively back over my shoulder. 'Most of them genuinely believe that what they have dedicated their lives to, is the truth. They know no better.'

He also looked at Damon’s hand on the door handle so Damon immediately let go of the handle and walked away slightly. “Aren’t you a thief?” the priest asked. “Because there is nothing in your face that will do evil.” “Ah, we are not thieves. We are just looking for something,” said Raven. “Looking for something?” the priest asked. The four approached the priest, who was still standing nearby. “Then maybe I can help.” The hunters looked at each other. “He’s a priest. He believes in demons.” Damon whispered. “So, shall we tell him about the blood?” Kyra whispered.

ROSE I inhale deeply as the cold water crawls repeatedly across my skin. It's evening already. I spent the entire afternoon looking for clues. Fortunately enough for me, I met an old college friend of mine who's a detective in LA, and he promised to help me find out about Lavender and her supposedly dead kid. In fact, he also said he's been curious about the way the detectives all died. He had wanted to investigate, but the police boldly told him it's not his duty to; that even the families of the deceased aren't worried about it. Somehow, I couldn't help but think this person in question has connections with the police. I couldn't say it to him because it's against the law to accuse a fello

Recognizing Priest's car, Adler waited beside his. Priest seemed to have spotted him, and he stopped right at the center of the driveway before stepping down. Before long, a goon had gotten in and drove away. His consigliere began to make his way towards him, his steps light and thumb in his pocket, his crucifix gleamed against the security lights planted outside. Salvatore stopped when they were inches apart. He looked at Adler and nodded, "Who died this time?" Adler chuckled, "Should be asking you that, there's blood on your hands, Literally."

WELLINGTON DISTRICT POLICE STATION OUTSIDE “What do you mean? “ Lucy looked at him with a puzzled expression Williams took a deep breath “ I know you might not believe me, but I know this case is definitely not a case we can easily or merely solve, it is a supernatural case” “ And what makes you think that? “ Lucy asked, obviously interested Williams studied her facial expression, and seeing that she wasn’t looking at him like he was a weirdo or that he was delusional, he let out a breath of relief and continued

Detective Mac said that he did not want to go inside the church because he really did not have a good relationship with God. But I was the one supposed to have been a good Catholic girl with a gold cross hanging around my neck. It had been so long that I had acted to be a good Catholic girl I thought I might be slightly rusty but then I remembered that I was the detective here, in official capacity, so probably I would not have to act so much. The teenager to whom the priest was speaking was looking at him with wide eyes at his reference to Aslan and Narnia, even though I clearly did not remember what they were they were not in the Bible and were some kind of fairy tale of that I was entirel

In the echo of his words and the silence of the hall, it seemed as though science itself had retreated, cowering before a horror that medicine could not describe. "There's no way but to continue working and exerting even more effort. The case is incredibly complex and intricate." Detective Mohammed rose abruptly from his chair, his voice sharp and his face grim as he addressed Susan, who watched him warily. "Another priest has been murdered... in exactly the same way as Nabil." A heavy silence hung in the air before Mohammed strode resolutely toward the door, as if carrying the weight of a mystery that grew more sinister with each passing hour. Susan's voice broke the tension, filled with an

She added, "If you could, go far away from them. Don't reply too, no matter what happen... And try different attending masses in different churches until you find one that sprinkle authentic holy water." "Miss Lucy... I've long tried that, and it didn't work." He reminded after a low grunt. She helplessly shook her head. "... Sadly, the old priest I recommended you last time has already died." In the end, Nathan parted with the editor. He couldn’t tell her what was different with the one who talked to her this very early morning When he returned to his apartment, a slightly disturbing realization came to him. The book was still in his living room. Its position did not change, staying where L

“Yer right. We need to get the lass out of danger before you can set things right. What should we do.” I run through possible scenarios until a specific memory niggles in the back of my mind. “I just thought of something. Didn’t Priest work with someone in New York after his wife, Sage, was nearly kidnapped?” Scotty’s brow furrows as he searches his mind. “Ye, he did. He was the one that killed Armando Rubio.” Reaching for my phone, I dial Priest’s number. “I’m going to call Priest to see if he can put me in contact with his connection. Perhaps his man can help us.”