Two dead girls in the river

Two tiny statues of the Virgin Mary concealed in their clothing

One CSI on the hunt for their killer

When Judith Chen is found floating in Boston’s Harbour, links are made with the murder of Emma Hale, a student who vanished without trace, only for her body to wash up months later.

CSI Darby McCormick is assigned to the case and uncovers a piece of overlooked evidence from the Hale investigation – which brings her into contact with Malcolm Fletcher, a former FBI agent now on the Most Wanted list after a string of bloody murders. And when a third student goes missing, Darby is led into a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse with deadly links to the past – and a man who speaks to the Blessed Virgin. A man who wants to be a secret friend to the girls he abducts...

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Q&A with Chris Mooney

What do you do when you’re not writing?
I lead a very boring life. I read a lot of forensic stuff, a lot of non-fiction. I work out. I taught a creative writing class at Harvard, which was very satisfying. I don't watch much TV anymore, but I don't miss Lost, Family Guy or Nip/Tuck. I spend as much time as I can with my family and friends. I've become addicted recently to computer Scrabble. I'm a horrible speller.

Where do you get your ideas?
The shower, mostly. And walking. That's the God's honest truth. Sometimes I'll be watching TV or reading a newspaper or magazine and an idea - or maybe just a piece of an idea - will just pop into my head. Most of the time, the idea just comes out of nowhere. Case in point: the idea for Remembering Sarah came when I was living in Nashua, New Hampshire. I was driving home from work one day during the winter and was passing by Roby Park, located about a mile or so from my house. I saw these kids going up the hill with their sleds and heard a voice whisper, "Sarah's not coming down that hill." That's it. The rest of the story grew from that. I know people think there's some mysterious mental store where all us writers pluck our ideas from, but honest to God, they just pop into my head.

How long does it take you to write a book?
From start to finish, in the past it's taken around two years. Sounds like a long time - and it is - but understand in those two years, I'm doing several drafts, and several edits, of the book. Now I'm on a yearly schedule - which keeps not only my publisher happy but everybody else, too.

How many hours a day do you write?
It varies. My goal each day is 5 to 8 pages. When I start a book, producing those pages can be tough. I write a lot, throw out lot, start again, write a lot, throw it out again. That's my process. Then for some reason the book always opens up and I have that "Ah-ha" moment where I understand where I'm going.

Do you outline?
If by outline you mean do I sit down and write each chapter along with what that chapter will contain, the answer is no. I don't outline like that simply because I have no idea what the story's going to be about until I sit down and start to write. I'll always know how the book begins - I'll know the opening scene - and I usually have a very clear idea about how it's going to end. That's it. Outlining spoils the stuff in the middle - the fun stuff. What writers call "the happy accidents”. To help out my editor and agent, I do a two to three page synopsis of what I think the book is going to be about; that way, we can discuss it. The feedback I get, especially from my editor, is helpful.

And is it true you sit outside on a porch?
Completely, absolutely true. I sit in a chair and balance my laptop on top of an old writer's board, light up a cigar, drink some bourbon, find the hole in the paper - or in this case, the laptop screen. Then I get lost and have a blast. The fresh air helps me think. When it gets cold, I bring out the space heater. Hey, whatever works, you know?

What made you decide to become a writer?
That's the question I most often get asked next to "Where do you get your ideas?" (Answer: Costco). Answering the "why" is much easier than trying to answer the "where". (Nobody knows where ideas come from, honest.)
   Every weekend afternoon, Boston's Channel 56 played Creature Double Feature - two black-and-white horror movies from the thirties and forties. The scarier movies played on Saturday nights when my parents went out to get a breather from the kids. When my Irish Catholic grandmother babysat me, Creature Double Feature was strictly off-limits ("Those movies will rot your brain," she always liked to say.) But when my father's mother, Claire, the cool grandmother, babysat, we'd watch the movie together.
   On one particular Saturday night, in between a movie whose name I have since long forgotten, I saw a trailer for something called The Shining. To this day, I remember sitting straight up and skin prickling when the elevator doors opened and the blood come spilling into the hotel lobby. I remember forgetting to breathe when Jack Nicholson, axe in hand, limped his way through the snow, screaming his son's name. I remembered being terrified. When my parents came home, I ran upstairs.
    "Dad, can you take me to see a movie called The Shining?" (I made sure I pulled my father off to the side and asked him the question out of earshot of my mother, who, naturally, would automatically say no to such a sensible question.)
   "That's rated R," he said.
   "I've seen rated R movies before. And besides, I'm almost 13, which is only five years away from 18."
    Impressed by my math skills, or maybe he just wanted to get to bed (it was date night, after all), my father said he'd think about it after he saw the movie next weekend with Mom. When they came back home, I was waiting for my parents in the kitchen.
    "There's no way in hell you're seeing that movie," my mother said.
    Since my father had involved my mother in the decision making process, I was prepared for this reaction and came up with a compromise. Since they wouldn't let me see the movie, how about letting me read the book? (A school friend had told me the movie was based on a book. My friend's mother had the read the book but wouldn't let her son read it - too scary, she said.) I wore down my parents, who agreed to let me check out the book from the library. I read the book in one sitting and well into the night; by the time I finished, not only was I terrified, I knew what I wanted to be a writer. I've been writing ever since.

What writer or writers influenced you?
My biggest influence was Stephen King. I devoured all of his stuff growing up, and I'd write a lot of these really awful horror stories (fortunately, I burned them all). James Lee Burke was also a big influence, as was Dennis Lehane - Mystic River is one of the best novels I've read in a long, long time. I enjoy Michael Connelly. He's such a quiet writer. It takes me two paragraphs to say what he can say in one or two lines. I've also become a big fan of John Connolly's books. If you're not reading his Charlie Parker series, then you're missing out on one of the best writers around.