The Competition - [6]
Bailey sighed. “Yeah, now that I think about it, Rache, maybe you don’t need to come. This one’s gonna be…really bad.”
I couldn’t remember ever wanting to take a pass on a crime scene before, but I did now. Though homicides are always grim, nothing compares to the tragedy of a child victim. Let alone a mass murder involving children. I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to know about it. I didn’t want it to be true. But it was. And I had to do something about it. Even if it was too late.
3
“What do we know?” I asked, as Bailey pulled away from the Criminal Courts Building.
“Precious little. Everyone’s got cell phones, so between the kids and the teachers, we have about a thousand reports. And they’re all over the place. ‘There were two gunmen. There were four gunmen. They had AKs. They had handguns. They had grenades, they had Molotovs.’ The only thing we know for sure is that they yelled at the jocks. But when they fired they didn’t seem to be targeting anyone specific. A soccer coach, maybe. And she might’ve just been in their way.”
“Any idea how many casualties?”
“Not yet.”
“But the building is cleared already?”
Bailey nodded. “SWAT went in through the library window. Word is that’s where the last shots were fired.”
“And that’s where they found the suspects?”
“Yes.”
I looked out the passenger window as we made our way down the 101 freeway. It was an incongruously glorious fall day, the kind I imagine L.A. used to have in abundance before we fouled the air with modern conveniences. Piercingly blue skies; brilliant yellow sunlight; and a clean, mild breeze that carried the burnt orange and ochre smells of autumn. The palm trees swayed gracefully in that breeze. At this moment I hated the sight. It felt like proof that the world didn’t care.
Our destination was Woodland Hills, a suburb in the San Fernando Valley that lies north and west of Los Angeles proper. Bailey got off at Tampa Avenue, and I distracted myself by counting the number of storefronts advertising Asian “foot massage” for twenty dollars. When I reached six, Bailey turned south and headed us into the maelstrom that surrounded Fairmont High School.
Fire engines, police cars, and ambulances-more than I’d ever seen in one place-packed the front entrance. Overhead, police helicopters competed for airspace with news copters. Their deafening whump-whump, the flashing blue and red lights, the piercing scream of ambulances, created a dark swirl that made the whole scene feel apocalyptic.
More than two hundred stunned civilians crowded the grass quad in front of the school. I guessed that most were the families and friends of the students who hadn’t been accounted for. Many were hunched over, holding cell phones to their ears, or staring at them as if willing them to ring. The air was thick with anguish. Circling like vultures were the inevitable news crews. I watched in disgust as reporters held out microphones to catch every drop of misery from the anxious crowd.
Bailey double-parked next to a squad car on the corner, and we headed to the police barricade at the side of the building, where things were quieter. The school was big-two stories high-and relatively new-looking, with a facade of light-colored stucco. The stairs leading to the main entrance were filled with local police officers.
A sobbing couple hovered over a gurney that was being loaded into one of the ambulances. The woman called out in a quavering voice, “Don’t worry, baby, you’re going to be okay! We’ll be right behind you!” The paramedic slammed the rear door shut and jumped in, then the ambulance flew down the street, siren screaming.
Bailey and I stopped just outside the tape that had been placed around the perimeter of the school and she flashed her badge at the nearest officer, a wiry guy who seemed almost young enough to have been a student himself.
“I’ll have to check with the sergeant before I let you in,” he told Bailey. He glanced over at me. “But she’ll have to wait. I’ve got strict orders: no civilians allowed.”
“I’m not a civilian,” I said, irritated. I pulled out my badge and held it up. “I’m a deputy district attorney-”
The officer studied my badge, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, orders are not to let-”
“She’s on the case,” Bailey interjected.
He gave me a skeptical look. “I’ll get the sergeant.” The officer started to go, then turned back and pointed at me. “But wait here till I get back.”
I watched him walk away. “What, did he think I was going to rush the line?”
“It’s the glint of madness in your eyes, Knight. Screws you every time.”
“You’re not funny, Keller.”
“I wasn’t kidding.”
We waited in silence as we watched the scene in front of the school. A line of police officers held back the surging crowd that was getting louder and more desperate by the minute. Keening cries mixed with voices grown hoarse from pain and frustration. A man shouted, “I just want some goddamn information!” That sparked a wave of cries from the others. “Please, we just need to know!” and “Can’t you tell us something?” and “It’s our kids, for Christ’s sake!” I could see by the expressions on the officers’ faces that they felt the parents’ pain but there was nothing they could do. In this chaos, it would take time to get accurate information. And the truth was, nothing short of seeing their children alive and unharmed was going to reassure these parents.
When the daughter of a billionaire Hollywood director is found murdered after what appears to be a kidnapping gone wrong, Los Angeles Special Trials prosecutor Rachel Knight and Detective Bailey Keller find themselves at the epicenter of a combustible and high-profile court case.Then a prime suspect is revealed to be one of Hollywood's most popular and powerful talent managers-and best friend to the victim's father.With the director vouching for the manager's innocence, the Hollywood media machine commences an all-out war designed to discredit both Rachel and her case.KILLER AMBITION is at once a thrilling ride through the darker side of Tinseltown and a stunning courtroom drama with the brilliant insider's perspective that Marcia Clark is uniquely qualified to give.
Without a Doubt is not just a book about a trial. It's a book about a woman. Marcia Clark takes us inside her head and her heart. Her voice is raw, incisive, disarming, unmistakable. Her story is both sweeping and deeply personal. It is the story of a woman who, when caught up in an event that galvanized an entire country, rose to that occasion with singular integrity, drive, honesty and grace.In a case that tore America apart, and that continues to haunt us as few events of history have, Marcia Clark emerged as the only true heroine, because she stood for justice, fought the good fight, and fought it well.
First in a new series from bestselling author and famed O. J. Simpson trial prosecutor Marcia Clark, a "terrific writer and storyteller" (James Patterson).Samantha Brinkman, an ambitious, hard-charging Los Angeles criminal defense attorney, is struggling to make a name for herself and to drag her fledgling practice into the big leagues. Sam lands a high-profile double-murder case in which one of the victims is a beloved TV star – and the defendant is a decorated veteran LAPD detective. It promises to be exactly the kind of media sensation that would establish her as a heavy hitter in the world of criminal law.Though Sam has doubts about his innocence, she and her two associates (her closest childhood friend and a brilliant ex-con) take the case.
TROUBLE IN PARADISE is an all-new short story featuring Rachel Knight, star of thrillers GUILT BY ASSOCIATION and GUILT BY DEGREES.Rachel Knight and her friends Toni and Bailey are taking a break from their busy, crime-focussed lives with a trip to tropical island paradise Aruba. But trouble is never far away from these three, and on their first day their investigative skills are called on when a reality TV child star goes missing…
Someone has been watching D.A. Rachel Knight-someone who's Rachel's equal in brains, but with more malicious intentions. It began when a near-impossible case fell into Rachel's lap, the suspectless homicide of a homeless man. In the face of courthouse backbiting and a gauzy web of clues, Rachel is determined to deliver justice. She's got back-up: tough-as-nails Detective Bailey Keller. As Rachel and Bailey stir things up, they're shocked to uncover a connection with the vicious murder of an LAPD cop a year earlier.
В новом томе собрания сочинений классика бельгийской литературы Реймона Жана Мари де Кремера, более известного под литературными именами Жан Рэй, Джон Фландерс и Гарри Диксон, вошли девять повестей из его почти неизвестного за пределами Бельгии цикла. Цикл посвящен приключениям потомка одного из эпизодических героев Артура Конан Дойля, упомянутого в рассказах о Шерлоке Холмсе — профессора Джо Белла. Перед нами новый герой, шестнадцатилетний Эдмонд Белл, столь же юный, как Рультабий из «Тайны желтой комнаты» Гастона Леру, столь же проницательный и столь же блистательный.
Украина, Черниговщина, зачарованная Десна. Из бездонной глубины Тихого затона раз в сто лет поднимается древнее чудовище, о котором сложены местные легенды. Именно подводному монстру приписывают серию жестоких убийств. Жертвы — местные рыбаки, рискнувшие ловить рыбу в Тихом затоне. Но чудовище оставляет следы. Значит, оно из плоти и крови, и потому смертно. Кто смертен — того можно поймать, считает бывший полицейский Виталий Мельник. У него дурная репутация и железная хватка. Начав частное расследование, он в какой-то момент понимает: зашел так далеко, что под ногами уже нет дна.
В причудливый узор сплетаются судьбы героев романа: адвоката-красавицы Тамары, безнадежно влюбленного в нее аналитика Боба, оперативника Вохи и бизнесмена Виктора Новака. Любовь, ненависть, соперничество, случайные встречи и взаимные обиды связывают этих людей, а объединяет единая цель: поиск серийного убийцы. «Несчастный случай» — так называется новый роман, раскрывающий обстоятельства пятого дела из серии «Тройная защита». Прошло несколько лет после смерти мужа Тамары Макса, друга и коллеги Боба и Вохи.
Летними вечерами в дачном поселке собиралась дружная компания хороших знакомых – пока к ним не присоединились новые соседи. Это неприятные, грубые люди – сильно пьющий художник Денис, его вульгарная супруга Иричка и ее тихая, незаметная сестра Зина. Как-то вечером, когда компания сидела во дворе, нарядная Иричка прошла мимо, небрежно помахав присутствующим, а вскоре ее труп нашли в ближайшем овраге…Полиция начала расследование, но соседи решили не оставаться в стороне и попросили Олега Монахова, называющего себя ясновидящим и волхвом, присоединиться к поискам убийцы в частном порядке…
Литературный клуб библиотеки имени Александра Грина славится активной литературно-светской жизнью: яркие презентации, встречи с незаурядными творческими личностями, бурные дискуссии, милейшие дружеские посиделки. На одном из таких вечеров происходит убийство. Личность погибшего, склочника и скандалиста, не вызывает особых симпатий тесного клубного кружка, однако какое несмываемое пятно на безупречной репутации библиотеки! Таня Нестерова, соратница, подруга и заместитель директора Бэллы Мироновой, понимает, что полиции с разгадкой не справиться: убийца не случайный гость «со стороны», а кто-то из ближнего круга, а причина убийства кроется в глубине запутанного клубка тайных любовных связей, ненависти, предательства и уязвленного самолюбия.
Политическая ситуация на Корейском полуострове близка к коллапсу. В высших эшелонах власти в Южной Корее, Японии и США плетется заговор… Бывших разведчиков не бывает — несмотря на миролюбивый характер поездки в Пхеньян, Артем Королев, в прошлом полковник Генштаба, а ныне тренер детской спортивной команды, попадает в самый эпицентр конфликта. Оказывается, что для него в этой игре поставлены на карту не только офицерская честь и судьба Родины, но и весь смысл его жизни.