The Doll's House - [45]
She paused now, wiping the sheen of sweat from her brow. Lifting her foot, she saw that the curved piece of metal was now flat.
Scooping it up, she heaved the sheets, blanket and eventually the mattress off the iron bed frame. Time was of the essence now. Crouching down, she examined the exposed bed frame. It was a heavy, metal frame – four legs, a bedstead and a headboard. The bedstead was connected to the headboard by two metal screws. They had been screwed very tight and had proved immovable thus far, but now Ruby set to work on them, jamming the flattened shaper into the slot of the screw and turning it as hard as she could.
Nothing. No give at all. Already Ruby could feel tears creeping up on her. She renewed her efforts. A few seconds later, she relented, cursing. Surely all this hadn’t been for nothing?
Summoning up her last shreds of determination, Ruby applied herself once more. Her fingers protested as she twisted for all she was worth, the thin metal sides of the shaper cutting into them. She strained harder, could feel the skin on fingers splitting now, then finally it happened. The screw began to move. Begrudgingly at first, then with alacrity and before long she held it in her hand.
One down, three to go.
77
Lloyd knew something was seriously wrong the moment she opened the door to him. Ceri Harwood was always so well presented, so terrifyingly in control of herself and her situation, that he was momentarily lost for words. He had never seen her look rattled and he had certainly never seen her drunk before. She blamed her slurred speech on pills she was taking for a head cold, but Lloyd could smell the wine on her breath.
She had obviously forgotten they were supposed to be meeting tonight, which angered him – how could she be so bloody cavalier? She looked at him blankly at first, as if trying to place him, then without saying a word turned and headed back inside. Lloyd felt a fool standing there, clutching his small Jiffy bag, like an unwanted postman. What was he supposed to do? Enter or wait here? Had he been dismissed? Or welcomed?
Lloyd stepped inside quickly. He was here to do a job and leave – no point lingering where people might see him. A black face in this part of town would excite more interest than usual and he wanted to be as anonymous as possible.
‘Hello?’ His voice seemed to echo in the spacious and well-appointed home.
‘Downstairs’ was the listless reply from within.
He walked down a precipitous spiral staircase to the large basement kitchen. He chided himself for it, but he felt deeply uncomfortable here. He had no problem with rich people, with folk enjoying the fruits of their labour, but it was so alien to him. He had never known luxury or privilege. He wouldn’t know what to do with a house this size even if he had one.
‘Drink?’
Harwood smiled grimly at him, as she filled a glass to the brim.
‘I’m ok – I need to get back.’
‘Nonsense,’ Harwood replied, pushing the glass into his hand. ‘So what’s the news from the front?’
Lloyd looked down at the glass in his hand and anger flared through him. She had no right to play games with him.
‘The bodies have both been exhumed now and are with Jim Grieves. We haven’t officially ID’d them yet, but we’re ninety-nine per cent sure they are Roisin Murphy and Isobel Lansley.’
Harwood drained her glass.
‘Press?’
‘Nothing yet, but we’ve closed off the beach again, so it won’t be long before we’re fielding questions. Have we discussed a media strategy with liaison?’
‘Just give the hacks signed copies of Helen’s mugshot. That should do the job.’
Lloyd realized she was attempting humour, which only made this whole situation more surreal. Suddenly he wanted to be out of this place. He had no idea what had occasioned this burst of uncharacteristic behaviour, but he didn’t like it. For the first time he realized that perhaps Harwood wasn’t quite as in control of the situation as she had claimed to be.
‘Here.’
He held out the Jiffy package to her.
‘Put it on the side,’ she said, gesturing towards the obscenely large marble-topped island, before wandering off to the fridge once more.
‘What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?’
Finally, Lloyd’s anger had erupted.
‘Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? For me? For us? If you’re so bloody uninterested, why did you start all this?’
Harwood paused and turned. She looked surprised, rather than offended, by his words. She shot a look at the package and her face softened. Slowly she made her way back over to him.
‘Forgive me, Lloyd,’ she said softly. ‘It’s been the worst of all days.’
She seemed uncertain whether to go on. For his part, Lloyd wasn’t sure what to say.
‘I know how this must look. But I am grateful for everything you’ve done. I know I can always rely on you.’
She looked at him warmly.
‘So let’s forget my bad behaviour, have a drink and talk about something else shall we?’
‘I don’t want to intrude. Especially if Tim’s at home and -’
‘I kicked him out.’
Lloyd was speechless once more. She didn’t seem keen to elaborate further. Harwood took a step closer to him, her nose now only a couple of inches from his.
The international bestseller that "grabs the reader by the throat" (Crime Time).First in the new series featuring Detective Inspector Helen Grace.Two people are abducted, imprisoned, and left with a gun. As hunger and thirst set in, only one walks away alive.It's a game more twisted than any Detective Inspector Helen Grace has ever seen. If she hadn't spoken with the shattered survivors herself, she almost wouldn't believe them.Helen is familiar with the dark sides of human nature, including her own, but this case-with its seemingly random victims-has her baffled.
Детектив-инспектор Хелен Грейс расследует серию преступлений, в каждом из которых похищены два человека. Похититель ставит свои жертвы перед страшным выбором – убить другого или умереть самому. Как долго продолжится эта смертельная игра, зависит только от Хелен. Ведь этими похищениями маньяк шлет послание лично ей.
Detective Helen Grace faces her own dark compulsions in the new thriller from the international best-selling author of Pop Goes the Weasel and Eeny Meeny.In a world where disguises and discretion are the norm, and where one admission could unravel a life, a killer has struck, and a man is dead. No one wants to come forward to say what they saw or what they know – including the woman heading the investigation: Detective Helen Grace.Helen knew the victim. And the victim knew her – better than anyone else.
THE FOURTH DI HELEN GRACE THRILLER BY BESTSELLING AUTHOR M J ARLIDGE 'Helen Grace is one of the greatest heroes to come along in years' JEFFERY DEAVER In the dead of night, three raging fires light up the city skies. It's more than a tragic coincidence. For DI Helen Grace the flames announce the arrival of an evil she has never encountered before. Because this is no firestarter seeking sick thrills, but something more chilling: a series of careful, calculating acts of murder. But why were the victims chosen? What's driving the killer? And who will be next? A powder keg of fear, suspicion and dread has been laid.
From the international bestselling author of Eeny Meeny comes the second thriller in the truly excellent series * featuring Detective Helen Grace."A man s body is found in an empty house.A gruesome memento of his murder is sent to his wife and children."He is the first victim, and Detective Helen Grace knows he will not be the last. But why would a happily married man be this far from home in the dead of night?The media call it Jack the Ripper in reverse: a serial killer preying on family men who lead hidden double lives.Helen can sense the fury behind the murders.
Будущее Джимми Кьюсака, талантливого молодого финансиста и основателя преуспевающего хедж-фонда «Кьюсак Кэпитал», рисовалось безоблачным. Однако грянул финансовый кризис 2008 года, и его дело потерпело крах. Дошло до того, что Джимми нечем стало выплачивать ипотеку за свою нью-йоркскую квартиру. Чтобы вылезти из долговой ямы и обеспечить более-менее приличную жизнь своей семье, Кьюсак пошел на работу в хедж-фонд «ЛиУэлл Кэпитал». Поговаривали, что благодаря финансовому гению его управляющего клиенты фонда «никогда не теряют свои деньги».
Очнувшись на полу в луже крови, Роузи Руссо из Бронкса никак не могла вспомнить — как она оказалась на полу номера мотеля в Нью-Джерси в обнимку с мертвецом?
Действие романа происходит в нулевых или конце девяностых годов. В книге рассказывается о расследовании убийства известного московского ювелира и его жены. В связи с вступлением наследника в права наследства активизируются люди, считающие себя обделенными. Совершено еще два убийства. В центре всех событий каким-то образом оказывается соседка покойных – молодой врач Наталья Голицына. Расследование всех убийств – дело чести майора Пронина, который считает Наталью не причастной к преступлению. Параллельно в романе прослеживается несколько линий – быт отделения реанимации, ювелирное дело, воспоминания о прошедших годах и, конечно, любовь.
Егор Кремнев — специальный агент российской разведки. Во время секретного боевого задания в Аргентине, которое обещало быть простым и безопасным, он потерял всех своих товарищей.Но в его руках оказался секретарь беглого олигарха Соркина — Михаил Шеринг. У Шеринга есть секретные бумаги, за которыми охотится не только российская разведка, но и могущественный преступный синдикат Запада. Теперь Кремневу предстоит сложная задача — доставить Шеринга в Россию. Он намерен сделать это в одиночку, не прибегая к помощи коллег.
Опорск вырос на берегу полноводной реки, по синему руслу которой во время оно ходили купеческие ладьи с восточным товаром к западным и северным торжищам и возвращались опять на Восток. Историки утверждали, что название городу дала древняя порубежная застава, небольшая крепость, именованная Опорой. В злую годину она первой встречала вражьи рати со стороны степи. Во дни же затишья принимала застава за дубовые стены торговых гостей с их товарами, дабы могли спокойно передохнуть они на своих долгих и опасных путях.
Из экспозиции крымского художественного музея выкрадены шесть полотен немецкого художника Кингсховера-Гютлайна. Но самый продвинутый сыщик не догадается, кто заказчик и с какой целью совершено похищение. Грабители прошли мимо золотого фонда музея — бесценной иконы «Рождество Христово» работы учеников Рублёва и других, не менее ценных картин и взяли полотна малоизвестного автора, попавшие в музей после войны. Читателя ждёт захватывающий сюжет с тщательно выписанными нюансами людских отношений и судеб героев трёх поколений.