by Darryl Greer

Murder, evil and injustice…

Most of the large law firms held Christmas parties but Anderson’s were renown for the attendance of judges, eminent silks, the brightest stars from the Bar’s junior ranks and the odd politician. No expense was spared – the champagne was champagne, the caviar, Russian beluga – not a sausage roll was to be seen.

The opulence of Anderson & Co was not restricted to the second floor. When the lift doors opened at the lower level, Mark was surprised at the facilities… the kidney-shaped swimming pool with the jacuzzi at one end, bubbling and steaming as if on the verge of eruption. Subtle lighting and strategic shrubbery made it hard to believe he was actually in the basement of a city law firm.

Ahead were various exercise machines. Entering the gym area, quietly impressed at the lengths the firm had gone to keep their staff fit, he gagged, almost vomiting at the scene.

In the centre of the room, lying face down on a bench was the well-built body of a young man, perhaps around his own age. He was naked. Legs were splayed obscenely apart and one had slipped to the floor. His head was twisted around so that his face – eyes open in a deathly stare – was directed at Mark. Clearly, there had been a struggle.

Pink tape, the type used by solicitors to tie up their briefs to barristers, was twisted several times around his neck, the ends draped untidily over the bench…

Sleeping with Angels is compelling, challenging …