The left hand of an angel
9.99 €
In stock
The left hand of an angel
9.99 €
While investigating a series of murders involving severed hands in Moscow in 1952, an MGB major discovers the sinister notebook of a Nazi doctor—and realizes he's hunting not a serial killer, but someone who creates serial killers.
July 1951. On the banks of the Yauza River, a bald man unties a sack. A severed left hand falls to the ground. A second later, he plunges a screwdriver into his neck. There will be no explanation.
Autumn 1952. Rain, slush, a country house on the outskirts. A high-ranking defense industry engineer has been murdered. His face is broken. His left hand is missing...
A name they tried not to pronounce aloud returns to the city: Ruchechnik.
The nightmare that reigns on the city streets brings disgraced investigator Major Ivan Shipov out of a protracted depression. Together with his assistants—Captain Kitaev and psychologist Zabotkin—he takes up the case and soon discovers a strange leather-bound notebook that once belonged to a sadistic camp doctor.
Witnesses remain silent. Suspects disappear. Clues lead to dead ends. And the murders continue. And the closer Shipov gets to the truth, the more persistently he faces the question: what if this notebook isn't evidence? What if it's a manual? And someone is working from it today?
July 1951. On the banks of the Yauza River, a bald man unties a sack. A severed left hand falls to the ground. A second later, he plunges a screwdriver into his neck. There will be no explanation.
Autumn 1952. Rain, slush, a country house on the outskirts. A high-ranking defense industry engineer has been murdered. His face is broken. His left hand is missing...
A name they tried not to pronounce aloud returns to the city: Ruchechnik.
The nightmare that reigns on the city streets brings disgraced investigator Major Ivan Shipov out of a protracted depression. Together with his assistants—Captain Kitaev and psychologist Zabotkin—he takes up the case and soon discovers a strange leather-bound notebook that once belonged to a sadistic camp doctor.
Witnesses remain silent. Suspects disappear. Clues lead to dead ends. And the murders continue. And the closer Shipov gets to the truth, the more persistently he faces the question: what if this notebook isn't evidence? What if it's a manual? And someone is working from it today?
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