Spook Street (Slough House, #4)

by Mick Herron

And as a result of all this change, of course, most things remained the same.

None of the passengers made any audible complaint. Either they were regulars and had expected the hiatus, or were new to buses and had lost the will to live.

She’d suspected Mr. Lamb would be an awkward customer. She hadn’t realised how much work “awkward” could be made to do.

Nothing more dangerous than a believer.” Because believers were always on a quest, for one Holy Grail or another. And quests were fuelled by the blood of anyone who happened to get in the way.

Someone was always trying to improve the capital’s roads, and if they ever finished the job, they might turn out to have succeeded.

He was finding it difficult not to stare at Lamb’s feet. It was like catching sight of a joint of meat hanging in a butcher’s window and wondering what the hell that had been when it was still attached to its body.