Читаем The Steel Kiss полностью

This, the woman who was there every minute for her husband, Herman, as he faded to cancer and who made sure her daughter never wanted for a single thing, attended every parent-teacher conference, worked two jobs when necessary, overcame her uncertainty about Rhyme’s and her daughter’s relationship and quickly accepted then fully embraced him.

Rose made her decisions in life according to immutable rules of propriety and logic that were often beyond anyone else’s comprehension. Yet you couldn’t help but admire the steel within her.

Rose was contradictory in another way too. Her physical incarnation. On the one side, pale of skin from the weak stream of blood struggling through her damaged vessels, but fiery of eye. Weak yet with a powerful hug and vise grip of a handshake. If she approved of you.

“I was serious, Amie. You don’t have to take me. I’m perfectly capable.”

Yet she wasn’t. And today she seemed particularly frail, short of breath and seemingly incapable of rising from the couch—a victim of the body’s betrayal, which was how Sachs thought of her condition, since she was slim, rarely drank and had never smoked.

“Not a problem. After, we’ll stop at Gristedes. I didn’t have a chance on the way here.”

“I think there are things in the freezer.”

“I need to go anyway.”

Then Rose was peering at her daughter with focused and—yes—piercing eyes. “Is everything all right?”

The woman’s perceptive nature was undiminished by her physical malady.

“Tough case.”

“Your Unsub Forty.”

“That’s right.” And made tougher by the fact that her partner had goddamn stolen the best forensic man in the city out from underneath her—for a civil case, no less, which wasn’t nearly as urgent as hers. It was true that Sandy Frommer’s life and her son’s would be drastically altered without some compensation from the company who’d changed their lives so tragically. But they wouldn’t die, they wouldn’t be living on the street, while Unsub Forty might be planning to kill again. Tonight. Five minutes from now.

And more galling: She was the one who’d convinced him to help the widow, setting him on his typically obsessive-compulsive trail of the defendant who’d been responsible for Greg Frommer’s death.

Your initial reaction is going to be to say no but just hear me out. Deal?…

Sachs was examining the contents of the fridge and making a grocery list when the doorbell chimed, the first tone high, the second low.

She glanced at her mother, who shook her head.

Neither was Sachs expecting anyone. She walked toward the front hall, not bothering to collect her weapon, on the theory that most doers don’t ring doorbells. Also: she kept a second Glock, a smaller one, the model 26, in a battered, faded shoe box beside the front door, one round chambered and nine behind it, a second mag nestling nearby. As she approached the door she removed the lid, turned the box to grabbing position.

Sachs looked out through the peephole. And froze to statue.

My God.

She believed a gasp issued from her throat. Her heart was pounding fiercely. A glance down and she replaced the lid on the camouflaged weapon case, then stood completely still for a moment, staring at her hollow eyes in a convex mirror set in a gilt frame on the wall.

Breathing deeply, once twice…  Okay.

She unlatched the door.

Standing on the small stone porch was a man of about her age. Lean, his handsome face had not seen sun for a long time. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt under a denim jacket. Nick Carelli had been Sachs’s lover before Rhyme. They’d met on the force—both cops, though in different divisions. They’d lived together, they’d even talked about getting married.

Sachs had not seen Nick in years. But she remembered vividly the last time they’d been together in person: a courthouse in Brooklyn. They’d exchanged brief glances and then the bailiffs had led him away, shackled, for transfer to state prison to begin his sentence for robbery and assault.

CHAPTER 13

It is an exciting concept,” said Evers Whitmore in a tone that belied the descriptive participle.

Which didn’t mean he wasn’t truly ecstatic; it was just so very hard to read him.

He was referring to Rhyme’s theory of the escalator’s defect: It didn’t matter whether the access panel opened because of metal fatigue, bad lubrication, a curious roach shorting out the servo motor, even someone’s pushing the switch accidentally. Or an act of God. The defect was in the fundamental design of the unit—that if the door opened for any reason, the motor and gears should have stopped immediately. An automatic cutoff switch would have saved Greg Frommer’s life.

“Had to be cheap to install,” Juliette Archer said.

“I would imagine so,” Whitmore said. Then he tilted his head and looked at the unit in Rhyme’s hallway carefully. “I have another theory. What does the access panel weigh?”

From Rhyme and Archer in unison: “Forty-two pounds.”

“Not that heavy,” the lawyer continued.

Перейти на страницу:

Похожие книги

Тайное место
Тайное место

В дорогой частной школе для девочек на доске объявлений однажды появляется снимок улыбающегося парня из соседней мужской школы. Поверх лица мальчишки надпись из вырезанных букв: Я ЗНАЮ, КТО ЕГО УБИЛ. Крис был убит уже почти год назад, его тело нашли на идиллической лужайке школы для девочек. Как он туда попал? С кем там встречался? Кто убийца? Все эти вопросы так и остались без ответа. Пока однажды в полицейском участке не появляется девушка и не вручает детективу Стивену Морану этот снимок с надписью. Стивен уже не первый год ждет своего шанса, чтобы попасть в отдел убийств дублинской полиции. И этот шанс сам приплыл ему в руки. Вместе с Антуанеттой Конвей, записной стервой отдела убийств, он отправляется в школу Святой Килды, чтобы разобраться. Они не понимают, что окажутся в настоящем осином гнезде, где юные девочки, такие невинные и милые с виду, на самом деле опаснее самых страшных преступников. Новый детектив Таны Френч, за которой закрепилась характеристика «ирландская Донна Тартт», – это большой психологический роман, выстроенный на превосходном детективном каркасе. Это и психологическая драма, и роман взросления, и, конечно, классический детектив с замкнутым кругом подозреваемых и развивающийся в странном мире частной школы.

Михаил Шуклин , Павел Волчик , Стив Трей , Тана Френч

Фантастика / Детективы / Триллер / Фэнтези / Прочие Детективы
Сходство
Сходство

«Сходство» – один из лучших детективов из знаменитой серии Таны Френч о работе дублинского отдела убийств. Однажды в уединенном полуразрушенном коттедже находят тело молодой женщины, жившей по соседству в усадьбе «Боярышник». На место убийства вызывают Кэсси Мэддокс, бывшего детектива из отдела убийств. Кэсси в недоумении, она уже давно ушла из Убийств и работает теперь в отделе домашнего насилия. Но, оказавшись на месте, она понимает, в чем дело: убитая – ее полный двойник, то же лицо, фигура, волосы. Как такое возможно? И возможно ли вообще?.. Однако бывшему боссу Кэсси, легендарному агенту Фрэнку Мэкки, нет дела до таких загадок, для него похожесть детектива на жертву – отличная возможность внедрить своего человека в окружение жертвы и изнутри выяснить, кто стоит за преступлением. Так начинается погружение детектива в чужую жизнь, и вскоре Кэсси понимает, что ее с жертвой объединяет не только внешнее сходство, но и глубинное сродство.

Тана Френч

Триллер