Where The Truth Lies
A killer in total control.
A detective on the edge.
A mystery that HAS to be solved.
I am delighted to be joining MJ Lee on tour with his first book in a new series featuring Detective Inspector Thomas Ridpath.
Where The Truth Lies is described as ‘a nail-biting crime thriller, full of breathtaking twists and turns .. fast-paced and extraordinarily original’
Just published by Canelo, I have a fantastic guest post for you entitled ‘Who is Detective Inspector Thomas Ridpath?’ What drives this man to look for the truth? Where did he come from?
Read on to find out more….
About the Book
The case was closed. Until people started dying…
DI Thomas Ridpath was on the up in the Manchester CID: a promising young detective whose first case involved capturing a notorious serial killer. But ten years later he’s recovering from a serious illness and on the brink of being forced out of the police. Then people start dying: tortured, murdered, in an uncanny echo of Ridpath’s first case.
As the investigation intensifies, old bodies go missing, records can’t be found and the murder count grows. Caught in a turf war between the police and the coroner’s office, digging up skeletons some would rather forget, Ridpath is caught in a race against time: a race to save his career, his marriage… And lives.
When a detective goes missing everything is on the line. Can Ridpath close the case and save his colleague?
Perfect for fans of Mark Billingham, Peter James and Faith Martin
Who is Detective Inspector Thomas Ridpath?
I was born on a hot summer’s day in Manchester, 38 years ago, which, for those who know the city is a rare event. Not my birth of course, but the presence of the sun.
My mother was Mary Ridpath, nee O’Brady and my father was Colin Ridpath, a lathe operator at Metrovicks in Trafford Park. I was the eldest son, joined two years later by my brother David, but we don’t talk about him as he is the black sheep of the family.
According to my mother, I was a precocious child, always getting into trouble, though not of my own making. I seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time at hospital getting stitches for a series of minor accidents; a stone in a snowball thrown by another boy nearly blinded me. Climbing on a pointed gate caused a spike to pierce my cheek. A fall from a step-ladder (don’t ask) led to a broken arm and a long gash down my leg that needed seventeen stitches ( I was very proud of the scar!).
I don’t remember much else about my early years except being very close to my mother and extremely jealous of my brother. A classic case of sibling rivalry if ever there was one.
The most important time of my young life was my father’s death from cancer when I was five years old. The strange thing is I don’t remember him being ill at all, but I do remember the day of his funeral. All the adults gathered in our front room while my brother and I played under a table. An auntie once explained to me that my father was in Limbo and wouldn’t be coming back. I didn’t really understand at the time why he wasn’t in heaven. Wasn’t that where all good people went?
Anyway, Catholicism stayed an important part of my life until I was twelve years old. At the time, I was an altar boy at church, helping serve the host during mass. One day, I had a chat with Father Malachy telling him I had seen the light and was now a convinced atheist. He was very understanding and immediately kicked my out of the church. This only confirmed my lack of belief in a God who would allow bad things to happen.
School and University followed, with a love of alcohol allowing me to get a bad third at Manchester University in History. I don’t know why I never went away to another town to study. even then, the city held me in it’s thrall. I couldn’t live anywhere else. I did try to live in London for six months after I graduated but I hated the place; there was no sense of community, no sense of place, just a group of people on a tube train going nowhere.
Back in Manchester, I joined an Insurance Company as a trainee manager and hated that even more than I disliked London. Stuck behind a computer screen for 40 hours a week was not my idea of a life. Then my brother was arrested ( I told you he was the black sheep) and I had to bail him out at the station. I walked in and weirdly felt immediately at home. There was a purpose and energy about the place, a sense that people knew what they were doing and why. Their job was to protect ordinary people and prevent the thugs of this world, like my brother, from ever gaining control.
Against my mother’s advice, I applied to be a copper with Greater Manchester Police and was immediately accepted. I loved the training and started work as a probationary constable with an old Sergeant, Peter Mungovan. As anybody knows who has read the book, this was the start and making of my career. I progressed rapidly through the ranks, was accepted for the Major Incident Team run by Charlie Whitworth, -promoted to sergeant and last year finally became a detective inspector with my officers reporting to me.
Then it all fell apart.
In the middle of an important drugs case, I was diagnosed with Myeloma – bone cancer. it was as of the curse of the Ridpath’s had struck again. We are all fated to die young. Luckily, Manchester has a wonderful cancer treatment hospital called Christies and they were trialling a new treatment for Myeloma involving Chemotherapy and a new drug, Revlimid.
After six months, I was finally pronounced in remission. The time put an immense strain on my marriage to Polly, my wife, and my relationship with my daughter, Eve. I don’t think I was the easiest person to live with at this time. Polly describe me as being like a polar bear in the jungle with a hangover. By the way, if I ever see another programme with Paul bloody Martin in it, I’ll kick the telly in. That’s a promise.
Three months after my remission and following extensive police interviews, I was finally allowed back to do the job I love; being a copper with MIT.
It was then I was given the news that there wasn’t a place for me, but I was to be a temporary Coroner’s Officer instead. The reason being their worries about the state of my health and the effect of stress on my illness.
But, I’m going to show them I can handle an investigation. I know how to do the job and I’m going to do it anyway, whether it’s with MIT or as a Coroner’s Officer.
I’m going to make a start with the inquest into the death of Alice Seagram, nine years ago, murdered by James Dalbey, aka the Beast of Manchester. It’s a chance to show them all I can still do the job despite the illness.
The truth is out there and I’m going to find it.
Purchase Link ~ Where The Truth Lies
M J Lee has spent most of his adult life writing in one form or another. As a university researcher in history, he wrote pages of notes on reams of obscure topics. As a social worker with Vietnamese refugees, he wrote memoranda. And, as the creative director of an advertising agency, he has written print and press ads, TV commercials, short films and innumerable backs of cornflake packets and hotel websites.
He has spent 25 years of his life working outside the north of England, in London, Hong Kong, Taipei, Singapore, Bangkok and Shanghai, winning advertising awards from Cannes, One Show, D&AD, New York and the United Nations.
Website ~ http://www.writermjlee.com/
Twitter ~ @WriterMJLee