The Best British Crime/mystery Fiction Novels & Stories

The teacher scolds us both, but all I can hear and see is his smile. He fixed me, he’s my serotonin, my very own drug. My feeling for him feels illegal, but he’ll still be my favorite crime. “Mr. Alex Sheperd and Mr. Conan Gray, this is not the time for chit chatting, now answer my question or you’ll meet the principal. “ We faced each other with a smile on our faces. We grabbed our bags and willingly took our punishment. This shocked our professor as he stopped talking until we left the room. We didn’t answer his question, it’s not like we could answer it anyway.

The ice cream had been forgotten in just a second. In crime movies, the espionage agents spy on their suspects wherever they go to investigate any suspicious actions without getting caught—because if they do get caught, are they even a true spy? Olivia had never thought about what she really wanted to be in the future as she was still undecided on her future career. But with the way she was pulling off her fake ignorant act, she was once again qualified for another potential job.

Then your best is not enough, why we're you appointed the sheriff, if you can't shelf anything? " I will surely give a positive answer soon" "You better should" he said before he hangs up She dropped the phone, walked out of her office and called the lead officers who are investigating the crime with her, they all gathered inside another room meant for investigating a serious crime, and plotting plans. She walked at the table and lay down the town's map on the wide center table "So the first murder was at a birthday party" she said circling the address on the map "And the second murder at the central Mall"

That would be emotional suicide. I moved away from the romance section quickly, like it might contaminate me somehow. Crime thriller. I'd read a crime thriller. Something with murder and investigations and absolutely zero sexual tension. That was safer. Much safer. I browsed the mystery section and pulled out a book I'd heard good things about. A detective novel set in London. Dark, gritty, complex. Perfect. I carried it to one of the comfortable chairs by the window and settled in. The chair was incredibly comfortable—soft leather that seemed to mold around me. There was a small side table with a reading lamp. A footstool I could put my feet up on.

Something sinister lay in the silence and Dan turned to scan the way. He wouldn't be caught off guard again. A shadow shifted in his periphery, and he turned as a man stepped from between two cars. Medium heights. Medium build. Well-dressed and carrying a briefcase. Not someone Betty would normally have noticed. Not someone she would normally have thought of as a threat. But these weren't normal circumstances, and everyone was a threat until proven otherwise. "Hey!" the man called out, offering a quick wave and a brief smile. "I've locked myself out of my car, and my cell phone is in it. Can you give me a hand?"

They might be good at murder, but it was not conceivable unless they had learnt to mix in with the British public convincingly. It was when Blanche started reading the newspaper, and I saw the front pages did I realise what might be going on: TWO BRITISH LAWYERS DIE SUDDENLY Beneath the headlines were the two names. Names I recognised by the list given to me by Inspector Brooks. I reached across the table and touched Blanche's hand. "May I?" She looked at me rather oddly and then realised something was wrong. "Of course," she said, handing me the newspaper.