A Matter of Honour (Harry Nichols: Investigative Journalist Book 2)

A Family Torn Apart. A Conspiracy Exposed.

Thirteen years ago, Harry Nichols promised his sister he would forget the murder that shattered their family and forced them into hiding. Now, as a high-profile investigative journalist, he's dragged back in—this time by the very people his promise was meant to protect.

When his nieces ask him to uncover the truth about their father's death, Harry uncovers a chilling web of political corruption, organized crime, and betrayal at the highest levels of power. With ruthless enemies watching every move and his sister’s family once again in danger, Harry must push beyond the limits of his profession—and risk his life—to stop the past from destroying them all.

A Matter of Honour is a gripping political thriller about family loyalty, buried secrets, and one man's relentless pursuit of justice in a world where the truth can get you killed.

Read A Matter of Honour today and discover how far one man will go to protect the only family he has left.

Excerpt from the book

It had been a miserable evening. Apart from anything else I'd failed at the one thing I'd come for. My face ached from constant smiling. My neck ached from constant nodding. I had bruised shoulders because they'd been slapped so often by people I didn't know. My ears rang and my feet hurt. And all for nothing I told the young waitress as I slid off my stool.

Sometime later I woke up. Or became aware. More or less. It was pitch dark, it stank and I was being shaken apart. Through the fog in my brain I recognised those smells. Farm smells. Dog, horse, oil, diesel. Ah, I thought, Anna's taking me home. I smiled. Trust her to make it as uncomfortable as possible. That would teach me to talk to pretty young girls the moment I was away from her. I drifted off happily.

Sometime later I woke again. The shaking was far worse. I diagnosed major road corrugations. It was worse even than the goat tracks up the mountains in Kashmir. The fog in my brain lifted a little and confusion moved in. There were no corrugated roads between the city and home. Anyway, Anna knew I was staying at the hole in the wall city pad, so she had no reason to come and get me. Then who had?

And what was this? A moving vehicle. Yeah right, dummy. Maybe the fog hadn't cleared. I shook my head. Bad idea. I was instantly swamped by nausea. I waited while my stomach descended back down my gullet which took a while because the bumps in the road kept bringing it back up again. When it was reasonably stable I started concentrating on the outside of my body.

The pitch blackness was because I was blindfolded. The discomfort was because my hands were tied behind my back. I twisted to relieve the pressure and struck a cramp across my shoulders and back. Gasping in pain I tensed and immediately cramped my legs as well. I screamed with pain and curled up into a ball. Then I found that if I rocked I could unclench my teeth and breathe in short gasps.

When the cramp finally faded I tested how much freedom of movement I had. I'd been tied up like this once before, by Anna's malevolent cousin Luka Mladenovic, and got out of it. This time, maybe not. As well as my hands and feet being tied together I seemed to be tethered to the walls of the van or truck or whatever it was, as well.

The vehicle wasn't new or in good nick either. The bloody thing had no springs and everything rattled. It had holes in it too. I could hear the wind whistling through…what? A partly open window? A poorly sealed door? That might account for the rattling which was enough to wake the goddamned dead.