Dan Holloway - The Company of Fellows

### Product Description

Imagine the Hannibal Lecter novels set in Oxford University.

"the plot rattles along at a great pace with enough twists to keep the most restless armchair detective guessing...add another cracking book the illustrious tales of this most murderous city. Do yourself a favour and pop into the shop to pick up a copy and enter the the dark, disturbing and at times depraved world of The Company of Fellows" (Review by Blackwell's Bookstore)

The Company of Fellows is a psychological mystery set in the dark heart of England's oldest University. The perfect read for fans of the Hannibal Lecter novels, Val McDermid, Minette Walters, Mo Hayder or P D James.

In June 2011, The Company of Fellows was voted "FAVOURITE OXFORD NOVEL" in a poll by the world-famous bookstore Blackwell's and the paperback was given a window and front table display.

Tommy West was a brilliant academic, until a breakdown stopped him in his tracks 12 years ago. He has reinvented himself as a successful interior designer. His new life is comfortable, in every way, and safe. But life without the intellectual challenge is slowly suffocating him.

Charles Shaw is a world-famous professor of theology and sensualist: unpopular with all his colleagues, loathed by his ex-wife and, as of five minutes ago, dead.

As a student, Shaw was Tommys mentor. Now Tommy must draw on the professor for inspiration one more time in order to find his killer. But all he has to go on are a handful of papers for the controversial research the professor was working on when he died.

The unspeakable truth about the Professor's death lies buried in the past: somewhere between the night his daughter was born - and her twin sister stillborn - and the day Tommy broke down. But for Tommy the past is a dangerous place, a long way from the safety he has so carefully built for himself. Can he find the answers before time, and his sanity, run out?

Dan Holloway is the author of the dark urban fantasy
BLACK HEART HIGH, set in Oxford and London and available on Kindle for $0.99/70p

THE COMPANY OFFELLOWS

DanHolloway

Copyright 2009 DanHolloway

Cover design by SesshaBatto

The author asserts the moralright under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to beidentified as the author of this work.

All Rights reserved. No partof this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrievalsystem, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without theprior written consent of the author, nor be otherwise circulated inany form of binding or cover other than that in which it ispublished and without a similar condition being imposed on thesubsequent purchaser.

AuthorsNote

There is acity called Oxford, and it does have a University. In fact, it hastwo. That aside, the people, places, and events in this story areentirely fictitious, or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to anypersons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Todays goodsecular parent will happily declare, as a good secularist, thatbelief in life after death is nonsense; so forego your qualms andlive for today. And as a good parent they will happily declare it amoral absolute to preserve the world for their childrenschildrens children; so forego your cars and live for tomorrow. Yetwhen I point out that there is an inconsistency here, it is I whoam held to be mad. Well, after whose death do they believe there isno more life? And who is the madman the one who points out theinconsistencies, or the one who lives by them?

CharlesShaw, European Symposium on Theology andthe Environment, Vienna, 2006

JUNE1995

37 BANESAVENUE, OXFORD

Theologianshad been known to time their lecture tours, research trips, andexamining duties to coincide with Charles Shaws parties. It wentwithout saying that the conversation and entertainment wasexceptional. But it was the sheer Busby Berkeley theatricality, aswell as the quality of the food that people would clear theirdiaries for. There was always just the right mix of signaturedishes, such as the little spoons moulded from ice that Charlesused for serving caviar, and surprises. The party to celebrateradical theologys brightest new star, Tommy West, had attractedvisitors from as far afield as Harvard and the Sorbonne.

So where isour guest of honour, asked Professor Bonnard, who had made thetrip from Paris. He put one of the tiny spoons in his mouth, andfelt the salty pop of beluga on his palate. He has finished,hasnt he?

Oh yes, hesfinished, said Dr Ellison.

And they gavehim the doctorate?

Indeed. Veryfew questions; no corrections required, I gather. Ellison took apeach from a silver tray and held it up to the light. He could justsee the perfect circle of a cut around its middle. The two halvescame apart in his hands to reveal a golden egg where the stoneshould be.

Bonnardclapped his hands together in delight. Drink me, he said, readingthe copperplate engraving in the gold. Our host reminds us ofAlice in Wonderland?

Smart arse,whispered Ellison under his breath. It wasnt clear at whom he hadaimed the remark.

Bonnard pickedthe golden object out of the peach, his fingers flinching from thecold as they touched it. Shrugging, he placed it in hismouth.

You approveof my little amuse bouche? Charles Shaw had appeared in silence bythe side of the man from the Sorbonne. Ellison wentpale.

Marvellous!the Frenchman declared.

Eiswein,said Shaw. Frozen on the vine in the first frost of the Germanwinter; and frozen again in Oxford; wrapped first in grape skin,and then in gold leaf.

And where isthe new Dr West?

Shaw raised ahand in the direction of the grand piano. Jane Ellison stoppedplaying. There was a disturbance downstairs, garbled voices. Theylistened closely. It was just one voice.

Whats that?asked Bonnard.

That, saidEllison with tangible relish, is our guest of honour, Mr West.

The bonhomiedrained from Bonnards face.

Technicallyhe is not a doctor until he has had the title conferred, Ellisontook great delight in elaborating.

Shaw looked atthe door onto the landing, his eyes following the source of thenoise. Its a tragedy, he said. I had intended, when I plannedthis party, to use it as a chance to suggest he apply for the newUniversity Lecturership in Gender Studies. He paused.

Two monthsago, Ellison filled the silence. The day after he had handed histhesis over to the examiners, Tommy wrote to Charles.

He said hewas giving up theology to become an interior designer, saidCharles.

Now hesknocking back malt by the bottle and lecturing anyone who gets inhis way about soft furnishings and wallpaper. Hes gone quitemad.

He may beill, said Charles. But that has done nothing to impair his taste.I gather he is already as much a success in his new field as he wasin his old one.

A terriblewaste, said Bonnard.

Charles took asip of dark Sercial Madeira and stared at the doorway. He cockedhis head slightly to one side, smiled, and motioned for Jane tocontinue playing.

Of thegovernments money and our time, said Ellison as the sonata beganand drowned out his voice.

That dependsentirely on your perspective, mouthed Charles as he moved into thecrowd for another effortless round of mingling. But I suspect,Barnard, that my perspective is very different fromyours.

And then headsturned. There was silence. For a moment. Then the sound of sobbing,and cries that sounded like words from unknown languages, and wordsthat sounded like animal cries.