I was lost ... Pat Quirke tried to come in and control everything' Bobby Ryan's disappearance in rural Tipperary in June 2011 mystified all who knew him. The truck-driver and part-time DJ (known as Mr Moonlight) was an easy-going fellow with no enemies. Or so everyone thought.When Ryan's body was found 22 months later on the farm of Mary Lowry, the wealthy young widow he had been seeing, it was clear that he had met a violent end.And the most likely person to have brought about that end? Pat Quirke, the man who had 'discovered' the body - Mary Lowry's brother-in-law, financial advisor, tenant and one-time lover.Following the longest running murder trial in Irish criminal history Quirke was convicted of murder in May 2019. Getting to that day had taken years of exhaustive work by gardaí. The Murder of Mr Moonlight is the definitive account of their investigation as well as the compelling story of how an innocent man paid the price for another man's obsessions.Catherine Fegan, Irish Journalist of the Year (2017), and Chief Correspondent at the Irish Daily Mail, covered every day of Quirke's trial. Over many months she also conducted interviews in Tipperary and further afield. She has written an extraordinary insightful and meticulous account of the case that gripped the nation. '[An] excellent book that shows all the colours of the story that intrigued the nation' Irish Daily Mail 'Well-researched and highly readable ... Fegan proves her journalistic mettle, delivering forensic detail in accessible language ... Anyone who followed the trial will not be disappointed by Fegan's book' Sunday Business Post 'Absolutely compulsive reading (as I know because my wife wouldn't let me anywhere near it - but I did get it in the end!) ... a page-turner' Eamon Dunphy, The Stand

    England’s Peak District. A violent fugitive attacks his prison escort and escapes over the wintry moors. He stumbles on an isolated cottage and takes a family hostage. What transpires will send a shiver down the spine of Britain. Award-winning investigative journalist and author, Alan Hurndall has spent the best part of a decade piecing together the events surrounding Pottery Cottage and offers this hour by hour account of the trauma and the controversial police operation as they close in on their man. Using the Freedom of Information Act, he gained access to previously confidential police files, witness statements and official reports. He says: “I was a young reporter on The Star, Sheffield when this story broke, and it has always held a fascination for me. It has a place in criminal and social history in the sense that many felt the Permissive Society was to blame.’ Pottery Cottage is a dark, psychological thriller that happens to be true. It will shock and anger in equal measure. It might even make you weep. But it will certainly provoke you into asking searching questions about yourself and how you might act in such a crisis. What would YOU have done?

    Decades ago, astronauts brought back 850 pounds of rocks from their lunar journeys; the U.S. gave some away as “goodwill” gifts to the world’s nations. Over time, many of them disappeared, stolen or lost in the aftermath of political turmoil, and offered for millions on the black market. Gutheinz, first as a NASA investigator and then the leader of a intrepid group of students, has dedicated his life to getting them back. Author Joe Kloc tells a wild story of geopolitics, crime, science, and one man’s obsession with keeping the moon out of the wrong hands.

    These are stories about how some New Zealanders go missing - the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time.

    This book cuts through the myth to reveal the astonishing true-life story of its elderly mastermind, Brian Reader. Gang insiders, family, friends and detectives talk for the first time about Reader’s six-decade career, from mixing with the Krays and the cream of the London underworld to an ill-fated collaboration with violent gangster Kenny Noye.

    For Clive, it was the pinnacle of a 35-year career with the world’s most famous police force, the Metropolitan Police Service.Clive’s prodigious rise through the ranks of the Met saw him front some of the most high-profile units at Scotland Yard. He was put in charge of their policy for sexual offences, domestic violence, child protection and the paedophile unit before heading up the Racial and Violent Crime Task Force tackling their backlist of cold cases. From action-packed moments chasing down criminals to more tender occasions, like gaining the trust of a murder victim’s family, to making crucial legal history, and unearthing huge national scandals, In Pursuit of the Truth is the definitive account of modern day policing, its successes and failings included, seen through the eyes of a man who has dedicated his life to making a difference. This is a book that every part of society can learn from.

    Over 170 people have disappeared from cruise ships around the world since 1995, several under very suspicious circumstances. Others have their lives senselessly stolen, like the 8-year-old boy sucked into an unprotected pool drain at a major resort, leaving his mother crying out his name as security staff held her at gunpoint. Or 22-year old Nolan Webster, denied proper medical care after being pulled unconscious from a Cancun resort pool, only to have his dead body left in plain view for hours and his parents billed for his room.Vacations are meant to be joyous and fun. Sometimes terrible things happen unexpectedly. A parasailing newlywed plummets hundreds of feet to her death on the last day of her honeymoon when her harness snaps in midair. Hikers make a fatal plunge on an improperly-marked Kauai cliffside trail. And of course, there's every mother's nightmare: the disappearance of Natalee Holloway while on a high-school graduation trip to Aruba with members of her senior class.

    To his friends in Detroit’s affluent suburb of Grosse Pointe, he was a married father of two, Rotary Club President, church usher and soccer dad who organized charity events with his wife, Jane. To his “slaves,” he was “Master Bob,” a cocaine-snorting slumlord who operated a sex dungeon and had a submissive girlfriend to do his bidding—and he wanted more slaves to serve him. But Bashara knew he couldn’t rule a household of concubines on his income alone. He eyed his wife’s sizable retirement account and formulated a murderous plan. This meticulous account tells the complete story of the crime, the nationally watched investigation and trials, and the lives affected.

    The web of murder and greed is clearly explained in this book that was the first to reveal the strong ties that developed from Malcolm Wallace all the way to the Johnson White House - encircling the richest and most influential men in Texas - oil barons, weapons manufacturers, and businessmen who would consider the removal of John Kennedy an act of patriotism.

     The fifth of Kate Skylark's co-written true child abuse stories. Like many little girls the world over, Amy didn’t have the best start in life, living on a rough council estate, with no dad and an alcoholic mother. But Amy is determined to do better. She works hard at school to make sure she succeeds in life. However, all Amy’s careful plans, hopes and dreams for the future are about to be smashed. Her neglectful mother invites abusive new boyfriend, Ray, into their home, and his reign of terror begins. As Ray’s attentions turn to her little sister, Amy must summon all her strength and take action. She has only one ambition now, to save her sister, Ivy, from suffering a terrible fate. Can she save Ivy in time? WARNING: This book is based upon a true account of child abuse, and as such contains passages that some readers may find disturbing. For every book sold, a donation will be made to the NSPCC.

    until now.Using ground breaking new research together with the original police reports, newspaper descriptions and eye witness testimony, we can finally present the truth about what actually happened.For the first time in over four decades we re-examine the crime scenes and deliver the real story of the Yorkshire Ripper murders.

    An account by Rose Calally of the tragic death of her daughter Rachel

    When passion is in the picture, what is criminal, what is sane, what is mad or simply bad? Through court and asylum records, letters and newspaper accounts, this book brings to life some sensational trials between 1870 and 1914, a period when the psychiatric professions were consolidating their hold on our understanding of what is human. Outside fiction, individual emotions and the inner life had rarely been publicly discussed: now, in an increasingly popular press and its courtroom reports, people avidly consumed accounts of transgressive sexuality, savage jealousy and forbidden desires. These stood revealed as aspects not only of those labelled mad, but potentially, of everyone. With great storytelling flair and a wealth of historical detail, Lisa Appignanesi teases out the vagaries of passion and the clashes between the law and the clinic as they stumble towards a (sometimes reviled) collaboration. Sexual etiquette and class roles, attitudes to love, madness and gender, notions of respectability and honor, insanity and lunacy, all are at play in that vital forum in which public opinion is shaped—the theater of the courtroom.

    The trial itself was sensational enough to attract the attention of the world’s largest association of professional forensic investigators. At the start, everyone expected a ‘guilty’ verdict. His fingerprints were at the scene, the murder weapon was in his car and a blood stain in the bathroom was matched to one of his shoes. And yet, he was acquitted and is now suing the Minister of Police, saying that the evidence was fabricated. Altbeker witnessed the trial, and looks closely at how the justice system failed both van der Vyver and Lotz.

     As a child, I was known as "Jessica Pelley." When I was nine, I went to a sleepover at a friend's house for the weekend. While I was away, my entire family was murdered. I would spend the next 30 years fighting, crawling, and clawing my way through the darkness. This wasn't just a national news headline, a cold case, or a true crime show. It was my family. And my life. I was the broken little girl left behind to tell this story. I am now "Jessi," in the pages of this unapologetic memoir, set free. *** JESSI - APRIL 29, 2016 April 29, 1989. A date I cannot forget. Numbers forever seared deep into my soul. It was 27 years ago, today. Jesus. Get a grip, Jessi. They’re just numbers. They don’t mean anything. You’re giving them power over you, again. That’s what I tell myself. But the numbers—those damn numbers—they haunt me. They always will. I cannot escape them. Not now. Not ever. For most people, dates are just numbers on a calendar. No big deal. Random markers of time affixed to the top left corner of small, white squares on a page to depict days filled with choices, chances, and opportunities. At least that’s what they are for the normal people. But I’m no longer one of them. For me, they serve as numeric reminders of the girl I used to be. A tragedy that would irrevocably and mercilessly alter the life of a little girl wearing dark blue jeans, canvas lace-up sneakers, and a white tee shirt, accessorized by prominent coke bottle glasses, her hair hanging in a messy bob. Her life would be forever dismantled. Gone. The moment they told me the words. The ones that I will never forget. At that moment, my life froze and shattered into pieces, splintering like bits of broken glass, dropping down onto the ground around me, like the remnants of a cracked windshield, falling fast before the spinning mind and broken heart of a wide-eyed little girl. Life, as I knew it, was over in that moment. What happened on April 29, 1989, has scarred me forever. A day that started out normally, before it became ensnared in marred memories, tucked between folds of tragedy and darkness. The lingering memories cut straight to the core of the hollow girl left behind. The darkness delivers itself to me, every year, on schedule. Steadily. Greedily. On the 29th day of April. Relentless. Haunting. It taunts the pieces of me that remain. Every single year. I try to lift myself out of the darkness. I tell myself the numbers shouldn’t matter. Not after 27 years have passed. Jessi, It’s just another day. You can do anything you want with it. Don’t slip into the darkness. But not even the voice in my head believes those lies I tell myself. Year after year, my happiness recoils, my thoughts run to a dark place filled with foggy memories and a void that swallows me whole. The door of despair opens and I’m trapped: alone, numb to the bone, emotionally deplete, void of all reality, space, and time. I hate the helplessness as I slip further into that dark place. A place that, long ago, was filled with light. A place where three little girls would sing happy songs, pick flowers, hold hands while skipping through tall blades of grass, and sit down at the dining room table, where they would bow their heads to pray before plates filled with food, in a home filled with laughter. Then it hits me—the life-defining, self-inflicted images of horror—of their final moments—dragging me deep into the darkness.