Solve the murder to save what's left of the world.Outside the island there is nothing: the world was destroyed by a fog that swept the planet, killing anyone it touched.On the island: it is idyllic. One hundred and twenty-two villagers and three scientists, living in peaceful harmony. The villagers are content to fish, farm and feast, to obey their nightly curfew, to do what they're told by the scientists.Until, to the horror of the islanders, one of their beloved scientists is found brutally stabbed to death. And then they learn that the murder has triggered a lowering of the security system around the island, the only thing that was keeping the fog at bay. If the murder isn't solved within 107 hours, the fog will smother the island—and everyone on it.But the security system has also wiped everyone's memories of exactly what happened the night before, which means that someone on the island is a murderer—and they don't even know it.And the clock is ticking.
THE LAST MURDER AT THE END OF THE WORLD
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
Contents
Prologue
107 Hours Until Humanity’s Extinction
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
74 Hours Until Humanity’s Extinction
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
50 Hours Until Humanity’s Extinction
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Forty-Five
Forty-Six
Forty-Seven
Forty-Eight
Forty-Nine
Fifty
Fifty-One
Fifty-Two
Fifty-Three
Fifty-Four
23 Hours Until Humanity’s Extinction
Fifty-Five
Fifty-Six
Fifty-Seven
Fifty-Eight
Fifty-Nine
Sixty
Sixty-One
Sixty-Two
Sixty-Three
Sixty-Four
Sixty-Five
Sixty-Six
Sixty-Seven
2 Hours Until Humanity’s Extinction
Sixty-Eight
Sixty-Nine
Seventy
Seventy-One
Seventy-Two
Seventy-Three
Seventy-Four
Seventy-Five
Seventy-Six
Seventy-Seven
Seventy-Eight
Seventy-Nine
27 Hours After Humanity’s Survival
Eighty
Epilogue
A Special Acknowledgement
Acknowledgements
A Note on the Author
THE INVESTIGATORS
Emory
Clara, Emory’s daughter
THEIR FAMILY
Matis, Emory’s grandfather
Seth, Emory’s father
Jack, Emory’s husband, deceased
Judith, Emory’s mother, deceased
THE SCIENTISTS
Niema Mandripilias
Hephaestus Mandripilias
Thea Sinclair
VILLAGERS OF CONSEQUENCE
Hui, Clara’s best friend
Magdalene, Emory’s best friend
Ben, newest arrival to the village
Adil, Magdalene’s grandfather
PROLOGUE
‘Is there no other way?’ asks a horrified Niema Mandripilias, speaking out loud in an empty room.
She has olive skin, and a smudge of ink on her small nose. Her grey hair is shoulder length, and her eyes are strikingly blue, with flecks of green. She looks to be around fifty, and has done for the last forty years. She’s hunched over her desk, lit by a solitary candle. There’s a pen in her trembling hand, and a confession beneath it that she’s been trying to finish for the last hour.
‘None that I can see,’ I reply, in her thoughts. ‘Somebody has to die for this plan to work.’
Suddenly short of air, Niema scrapes her chair back and darts across the room, swiping aside the tattered sheet that serves as a makeshift door before stepping into the muggy night air.
It’s pitch black outside, the moon mobbed by storm clouds. Rain is pummelling the shrouded village, filling her nostrils with the scent of wet earth and cypress trees. She can just about see the tops of the encircling walls, etched in silver moonlight. Somewhere in the darkness, she can hear the distant squeal of machinery and the synchronised drumbeat of footsteps.
She stands there, letting the warm rain soak her hair and dress. ‘I knew there’d be a cost,’ she says, her voice numb. ‘I didn’t realise it would be so high.’
‘There’s still time to put this plan aside,’ I say. ‘Leave your secrets buried, and let everybody go about their lives as they’ve always done. Nobody has to die.’
‘And nothing will change,’ she shoots back angrily. ‘I’ve spent ninety years trying to rid humanity of its selfishness, greed and its impulse towards violence. Finally, I have a way to do it.’
She touches the tarnished cross hanging around her neck for comfort. ‘If this plan works, we’ll create a world without suffering. For the first time in our history, there’ll be perfect equality. I can’t turn my back on that because I don’t have the strength to do what’s necessary.’
Niema speaks as if her dreams were fish swimming willingly into her net, but these are murky waters, far more dangerous than she can see.