Ben Aaronovitch - Rivers of London 02 - Moon Over Soho
Narrated by: Kobna Holdbrook-Smith
Unabridged: Yes
Runtime: 10h 1mn 8sec
Total Number of Audio Files: 9
Audio: MP3, 2-channel, 96 Kbps @ 48000 Hz, CBR
The song.
That's what London constable and sorcerer's apprentice Peter Grant first notices when he examines the corpse of Cyrus Wilkins, part-time jazz drummer and full-time accountant, who dropped dead of a heart attack while playing a gig at Soho's 606 Club.
The notes of the old jazz standard are rising from the body, a sure sign that something about the man's death was not at all natural but instead supernatural. Body and soul, they're also what Peter will risk as he investigates a pattern of similar deaths in and around Soho.
With the help of his superior officer, Detective Chief Inspector Thomas Nightingale, the last registered wizard in England, and the assistance of beautiful jazz aficionado Simone Fitzwilliam, Peter will uncover a deadly magical menace, one that leads right to his own doorstep and to the squandered promise of a young jazz musician: a talented trumpet player named Richard 'Lord' Grant, otherwise known as Peter's dear old dad.
"Moon Over Soho is easily as good as its predecessor, but with added jazz. Moon Over Soho is a truly fun read, although it is somewhat darker than its predecessor, and it is also very much an adult book."
I was my dad's vinyl-wallah: I changed his records while he lounged around drinking tea, and that's how I know my Argo from my Tempo. And it's why, when Dr Walid called me to the morgue to listen to a corpse, I recognised the tune it was playing. Something violently supernatural had happened to the victim, strong enough to leave its imprint like a wax cylinder recording. Cyrus Wilkinson, part-time jazz saxophonist and full-time accountant, had apparently dropped dead of a heart attack just after finishing a gig in a Soho jazz club. He wasn't the first. No one was going to let me exhume corpses to see if they were playing my tune, so it was back to old-fashioned legwork, starting in Soho, the heart of the scene. I didn't trust the lovely Simone, Cyrus' ex-lover, professional jazz kitten and as inviting as a Rubens' portrait, but I needed her help: there were monsters stalking Soho, creatures feeding off that special gift that separates the great musician from someone who can raise a decent tune. What they take is beauty. What they leave behind is sickness, failure and broken lives. And as I hunted them, my investigation got tangled up in another story: a brilliant trumpet player, Richard 'Lord' Grant - my father - who managed to destroy his own career, twice. That's the thing about policing: most of the time you're doing it to maintain public order. Occasionally you're doing it for justice. And maybe once in a career, you're doing it for revenge.
Replies
Wow! How can a person say enough to tell how much you are thanked? UUUHHHH Thank You?.................Larry
3 is also posted. Enjoy!!!!!!!! https://timespast.ning.com/xn/detail/1535737:Topic:254549 ----------------------------------------- R
Cheers!
I shall grab the third book on the morrow
No hurry, what I post is fairly static and stays here. ---------- Rick
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