Paris, 1932
Vagrants, riff-raff, dross, derelicts, tramps, hobos, whatever you want to call them, they’re dying. Dying from the cold and from hunger, yes. They are also dying at the hands of a psychotic killer. A killer who is strangling them with a knotted rope before cutting their ears off.
Nobody wants to admit that the killings are related. Nor do they wish to allocate resources for such an inconsequential crime. If nobody sees then nobody cares. Well, nearly nobody. One man is prepared to sleep rough in bleak winter, to live among the homeless, to put his life on the line. That man is Salazar and he’ll do it for justice, to save lives, to get the killer off the streets. Or maybe he’ll do it escape his colicky kid and to get a good night’s sleep.
Other working title: In the Shadows of Notre Dame
