Kirjahaku

Jack Doyle is an investigator who is focused on indigenous criminal activity. Okwaho'k wa is a First Nations advocate who is active in protecting indigenous rights. This 'abrasive American' and 'troublesome Indian' join together to locate a missing person - a 15-year-old runaway Cree girl from a reserve in Northern Ontario. To succeed, the duo must overcome mutual hostility and distrust. Weighed down by racial prejudices, they embark on a journey through the dark side of society. Will society's ills encumber them? Or will the challenge embolden them to cooperate?

Sergei Falkov is sent to the United States of America to promote Russian trade. Following the death of Lenin, he is recalled to Russia, which has declined into tyranny during his absence. Under Stalin's repression, he is sentenced to a forced labour camp to purge him of capitalist contamination. Lacking the toughness of the younger fellow prisoners, Sergei relies instead on cunning to survive.

Sergei Falkov is sent to the United States of America to promote Russian trade. Following the death of Lenin, he is recalled to Russia, which has declined into tyranny during his absence. Under Stalin's repression, he is sentenced to a forced labour camp to purge him of capitalist contamination. Lacking the toughness of the younger fellow prisoners, Sergei relies instead on cunning to survive.

Kevin Doherty suffers from enochlophobia - fear of public places. He finds and befriends a lost girl, a survivor of a storm at sea, whom he names 'Lanta'. The ensuing relationship is mutually beneficial to the reclusive man and the foundling. They resolve to remain together. Their relationship is threatened, not by their respective personal struggles, but by an ill-informed society that misunderstands mental illness.

Kevin Doherty suffers from enochlophobia - fear of public places. He finds and befriends a lost girl, a survivor of a storm at sea, whom he names 'Lanta'. The ensuing relationship is mutually beneficial to the reclusive man and the foundling. They resolve to remain together. Their relationship is threatened, not by their respective personal struggles, but by an ill-informed society that doesn't understand mental illness.

I want to get past Black Donnelly's horrible place; but not before my uncle is convinced of things there. Was it really a nightmare I had last night?No I am certain of what I saw.Rounding the bend, there it is. Black Donnelly's place in the spent bog, as bleak and foreboding as ever. Parked in front is Mickey Motor's motor-car. And Mickey peering in through the front window, cupping his hands to his eyes against the glare of the dirty panes."I brought two pigs for Donnelly. He's not in the slaughterhouse where he ought to be at this time of day. And there's no answer from the house. He must be dead or something "Mickey goes around to the back, to enter the slaughterhouse by the trapdoor, the one used to haul the carcasses by the winch. There is an entrance to the house from the slaughterhouse. Mickey seems to know his way around the forbidding place. We wait for Mickey to reappear. My uncle hammers on the door with his fists.He shouts, "Mickey Mickey Are you there? What's keeping you? For God's sake Mickey, answer me "There is a sound from the house. Mickey, or someone, is falling about in there. Is he tripping or slipping or what? At last the sound of the front door being unlatched, and Mickey stumbles out holding on to the wall for support. His black boots and blue overall knees are wet, so be must have fallen on a wet floor. He moves away from the door, still leaning on the wall for support. Then he vomits and slides to the ground. He is shaken, pale and weak. Nevertheless he grips my uncle's wrist like an iron vice to prevent him from entering. I am still down at the road, but I can hear their lowered voices.Mickey is still spluttering and coughing bits of vomit. "Donnelly - dead.""Do you think the lads from Cork...?""No Too gruesome. Not even the Tans at their worst would have done this.""Done what?"Mickey grips him with two hands to impress upon him not to enter. "His chest. His heart cut out.""With his own knives?""I don't think so. It's too crude; many hacking cuts; more like he was gnawed."Now my uncle slides to the ground. So bewildered am I that I almost laugh at the spectacle unfolding in front of me.This is the evidence - what I saw last night was no dream.I shut my eyes. How quickly things change.

I want to get past Black Donnelly's horrible place; but not before my uncle is convinced of things there. Was it really a nightmare I had last night?No I am certain of what I saw.Rounding the bend, there it is. Black Donnelly's place in the spent bog, as bleak and foreboding as ever. Parked in front is Mickey Motor's motor-car. And Mickey peering in through the front window, cupping his hands to his eyes against the glare of the dirty panes."I brought two pigs for Donnelly. He's not in the slaughterhouse where he ought to be at this time of day. And there's no answer from the house. He must be dead or something "Mickey goes around to the back, to enter the slaughterhouse by the trapdoor, the one used to haul the carcasses by the winch. There is an entrance to the house from the slaughterhouse. Mickey seems to know his way around the forbidding place. We wait for Mickey to reappear. My uncle hammers on the door with his fists.He shouts, "Mickey Mickey Are you there? What's keeping you? For God's sake, Mickey, answer me "There is a sound from the house. Mickey, or someone, is falling about in there. Is he tripping or slipping or what? At last the sound of the front door being unlatched, and Mickey stumbles out holding on to the wall for support. His black boots and blue overall knees are wet, so he must have fallen on a wet floor. He moves away from the door, still leaning on the wall for support. Then he vomits and slides to the ground. He is shaken, pale and weak. Nevertheless he grips my uncle's wrist like an iron vice to prevent him from entering. I am still down at the road, but I can hear their lowered voices.Mickey is still spluttering and coughing bits of vomit. "Donnelly - dead.""Do you think the lads from Cork...?""No Too gruesome. Not even the Tans at their worst would have done this.""Done what?"Mickey grips him with two hands to impress upon him not to enter. "His chest. His heart cut out.""With his own knives?""I don't think so. It's too crude; many hacking cuts; more like he was gnawed."Now my uncle slides to the ground. So bewildered am I that I almost laugh at the spectacle unfolding in front of me.This is the evidence - what I saw last night was no dream.I shut my eyes. How quickly things change.

On Wednesday 02 August 1950, Canon Paul Anthony MacMorrow is discovered lying injured inside St. Bawn's Church. He speaks a few words - 'a coin' and 'a key'. Are these clues that will lead to his assailant? He falls unconscious and dies within minutes.Why would anyone kill a harmless old priest in a quiet rural haven in the west of Ireland? Detective Inspector John Patrick Murphy, 'Murf', searches for evidence and motives in the parish and the town. Later he learns of a related incident many miles away at the border. When a foreign connection is uncovered, the Royal Ulster Constabulary becomes interested, and so does 'London'. Has the Cold War arrived at the doorsteps of a quiet country church in remote County Mayo?

On Wednesday 02 August 1950, Canon Paul Anthony MacMorrow is discovered lying injured inside St. Bawn's Church. He speaks a few words - 'a coin' and 'a key'. Are these clues that will lead to his assailant? He falls unconscious and dies within minutes.Why would anyone kill a harmless old priest in a quiet rural haven in the west of Ireland? Detective Inspector John Patrick Murphy, 'Murf', searches for evidence and motives in the parish and the town. Later he learns of a related incident many miles away at the border. When a foreign connection is uncovered, the Royal Ulster Constabulary becomes interested, and so does 'London'. Has the Cold War arrived at the doorsteps of a quiet country church in remote County Mayo?

When surveying a site for a proposed road construction project, an archaeologist uncovers a body. It is no surprise to discover burial remains in the 1800-era Famine Field. However, the clothing on the corpse suggests that it is a recent burial - certainly not a victim of the Great Famine. And the unusual attire is foreign to County Mayo. In the course of the subsequent police investigation, the Famine Field reveals additional disturbing secrets. The brilliant but eccentric Detective Inspector John Patrick Murphy, 'Murf', faces the most challenging mystery so far in his career. He learns that 'foreign' is not synonymous with 'distant'.

Jack Doyle is an investigator who is focused on indigenous criminal activity. Okwaho'k wa is a First Nations advocate who is active in protecting indigenous rights. This 'abrasive American' and 'troublesome Indian' join together to locate a missing person - a 15-year-old runaway Cree girl from a reserve in Northern Ontario. To succeed, the duo must overcome mutual hostility and distrust. Weighed down by racial prejudices, they embark on a journey through the dark side of society. Will society's ills encumber them? Or will the challenge embolden them to cooperate?