Death of a Bookseller by Alice Slater EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Alice Slater
- Language: English
- Genre: Psychological Thrillers
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
ROACH
The neon lights that topped the dome of Brixton Academy glowed like the
projectile vomit from The Exorcist. It was a little after six and the normies
were already queueing, a thick vein that snaked around the corner and into
the growing darkness, past overflowing industrial bins, stacks of crushed
cardboard boxes, and slicks of piss that trickled into the gutter.
Clots of women chatted as they checked their lipstick in hand-mirrors
and snapped cheerful, blank-eyed selfies. They were the kind of girls who
felt a shiver of excitement as summer gave way to autumn, when Starbucks
launched their seasonal menu, and it was time to wear scarves, tights, and
leather boots. Pumpkin Spice Girls loved true crime podcasts these days.
True crime was mainstream, and PSGs loved to clap their hands over
anything that was quirky-but-mainstream. Drag queens, Halloween,
astrology. That kind of shit.
The Murder Girls drew a different energy to the metal bands I usually
went to see at Brixton Academy, where the crowd was rougher, tougher. I
felt more at home surrounded by battered biker jackets and combat boots
than I did with Zara dresses and publishing tote bags.
I joined the back of the queue behind two student types, plain girls with
long limp hair dressed in ironic charity shop chic. One wore an oversized
tartan shirt and ugly ’80s glasses that reminded me of Jeffrey Dahmer,
while the other wore a black T-shirt that said I wonder if serial killers think
about me as much as I think about them? in girly pink calligraphy.
“If they do Ted Bundy,” Dahmer Glasses said to the other, “I’ll fucking
die.”
“They did Ted Bundy,” her friend replied. “Like, two years ago.”
“Yeah, but so much has happened since then.”
So much had happened since when? I bristled. Ted Bundy was dead,
executed by electric chair by the state of Florida in 1989. These fake fans
had no idea what they were talking about. I made a derisive scoffing noise
and, startled by the interruption, they turned to look at me. They shared
matching looks of distaste as they took in my purple hair, my clothes, my
whole dark vibe.
“What?” Dahmer Glasses snapped.
“Ted Bundy died,” I explained slowly, like she was very stupid, “like,
thirty years ago.”
They exchanged uneasy glances, and then Dahmer Glasses said: “So?”
“So, realistically, how much more could have happened to a dead man?”
I was being sarcastic, but then something occurred to me. What if there had
been a development—a fresh angle, or some new information, and I’d
missed it? With a flutter of excitement, I took a step towards her. “Wait, has
something happened? Have they connected him to a cold case?”
“I was talking about the film,” she said, taking a step back. Her friend
brightened as I deflated.
“Ah, Zac Efron!”
“Exactly!”
With that established, they turned their backs on me and continued their
conversation about Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile at a much
lower volume.
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