Gallows Thief. Bernard Cornwell
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Название: Gallows Thief
Автор: Bernard Cornwell
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Полицейские детективы
isbn: 9780007339518
isbn:
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2001
Copyright © Bernard Cornwell 2001
Cover design by Holly Macdonald © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018
Cover images © ClassicStock/Alamy Stock Photo (street scene); Shutterstock.com (texture)
Bernard Cornwell asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it, while at times based on historical events and figures, are the work of the author’s imagination.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780007437559
Ebook Edition © June 2010 ISBN: 9780007339518
Version: 2018-10-01
For Antonia and Jef
Contents
Read on for an excerpt from Fools and Mortals
The SHARPE Series (in chronological order)
The SHARPE Series (in order of publication)
Sir Henry Forrest, banker and alderman of the City of London, almost gagged when he entered the Press Yard for the smell was terrible, worse than the reek of the sewer outflows where the Fleet Ditch oozed into the Thames. It was a stink from the cesspits of hell, an eye-watering stench that took a man’s breath away and made Sir Henry take an involuntary step backwards, clap a handkerchief to his nose and hold his breath for fear that he was about to vomit.
Sir Henry’s guide chuckled. ‘I don’t notice the smell no more, sir,’ he said, ‘but I suppose it’s mortal bad in its way, mortal bad. Mind the steps here, sir, do mind ’em.’
Sir Henry gingerly took the handkerchief away and forced himself to speak. ‘Why is it called the Press Yard?’
‘In days gone by, sir, this is where the prisoners was pressed. They was squashed, sir. Weighed down by stones, sir, to persuade them to tell the truth. We don’t do it any longer, sir, more’s the pity, and as a consequence they lies like India rugs, sir, СКАЧАТЬ