Memory in Death - Softcover

Buch 22 von 62: In Death

Robb, J. D.

 
9780425210734: Memory in Death
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0425210731 ISBN 13: 9780425210734
Verlag: Berkley, 2006

Inhaltsangabe

#1 New York Times bestselling author J. D. Robb presents a memorable tale of suspense set in 2059 New York City, as Lieutenant Eve Dallas walks a tightrope between her professional duties and her private demons.

Eve Dallas is one tough cop. It should take more than a seemingly ordinary middle-aged lady to make her fall apart. But when that lady is Trudy Lombard, all bets are off. Just seeing Trudy at the station plunges Eve back to the days when she was a vulnerable, traumatized young girl—and trapped in foster care with the twisted woman who now sits smiling in front of her.

Trudy claims she came all the way to New York just to see how Eve is doing. But Eve’s fiercely protective husband, Roarke, suspects otherwise—and a blackmail attempt by Trudy proves his suspicion correct. Eve and Roarke just want the woman out of their lives. But someone else wants her dead. And when her murder comes to pass, Eve and Roarke will follow a circuitous and dangerous path to find out who turned the victimizer into a victim.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

J. D. Robb is the pseudonym for a #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than 200 novels, including the bestselling In Death series. There are more than 500 million copies of her books in print.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Memory in Death J. D. RobbI.death was not taking a holiday. new yorkmay have been decked out in its glitter and glamour,madly festooned in December of 2059, but Santa Clauswas dead. And a couple of his elves weren’t looking so good.Lieutenant Eve Dallas stood on the sidewalk with the insanityof Times Square screaming around her and studied what was left ofSt. Nick. A couple of kids, still young enough to believe that a fat guyin a red suit would wiggle down the chimney to bring them presentsinstead of murdering them in their sleep, were shrieking at a decibeldesigned to puncture eardrums. She wondered why whoever was incharge of them didn’t haul them away.Not her job, she thought. Thank God. She preferred the bloodymess at her feet. She looked up, way up. Dropped down from the thirty-sixth floor ofthe Broadway View Hotel. So the first officer on-scene had reported.Shouting, “Ho, ho, ho”—according to witnesses—until he’d gonesplat, and had taken out some hapless son of a bitch who’d beenstrolling through the endless party. The task of separating the two smashed bodies would be an unpleasantone, she imagined. Two other victims had escaped with minor injuries—one had simplydropped like a tree and cracked her head on the sidewalk in shockwhen the nasty spatter of blood, gore, and brain matter had splashed allover her. Dallas would leave them to the medical techs for the moment,and get statements when, hopefully, they were more coherent.She already knew what had happened here. She could see it in theglassy eyes of Santa’s little helpers. She started toward them in a boot-length black leather coat thatswirled in the chilly air. Her hair was short and brown around a leanface. Her eyes were the color of good, aged whiskey and were long likethe rest of her. And like the rest of her, they were all cop. “Guy in the Santa gig’s your buddy?” “Oh, man. Tubbs. Oh, man.” One was black, one was white, but they were both faintly green atthe moment. She couldn’t much blame them. She gauged them as latetwenties, and their upscale partywear indicated they were probably juniorexecs at the firm that had had its holiday bash rudely interrupted.“I’m going to arrange to have you both escorted downtown whereyou’ll give your statements. I’d like you to voluntarily agree to illegalstesting. If you don’t . . .” She waited a beat, smiled thinly. “We’ll do itthe hard way.” “Oh, man, oh, shit. Tubbs. He’s dead. He’s dead, right?”“That’s official,” Eve said and turned to signal to her partner.Detective Peabody, her dark hair currently worn in sporty waves,straightened from her crouch by the tangle of body parts. She wasmildly green herself, Eve noted, but holding steady. “Got ID on both victims,” she announced. “Santa’s Lawrence, Max,age twenty-eight, Midtown address. Guy who—ha-ha—broke hisfall’s Jacobs, Leo, age thirty-three. Queens.” “I’m going to arrange to have these two taken into holding, get a testfor illegals, get their statements when we finish here. I assume youwant to go up, look at the scene, speak with the other witnesses.” “I . . .” “You’re primary on this one.” “Right.” Peabody took a deep breath. “Did you talk to them at all?” “Leaving that for you. You want to take a poke at them here?” “Well . . .” Peabody searched Eve’s face, obviously looking for theright answer. Eve didn’t give it to her. “They’re pretty shaken up, andit’s chaos out here, but . . .We might get more out of them here andnow, before they settle down and start thinking about how much troublethey might be in.” “Which one do you want?” “Um. I’ll take the black guy.” Eve nodded, walked back. “You.” She pointed. “Name?” “Steiner. Ron Steiner.” “We’re going to take a little walk, Mr. Steiner.” “I feel sick.” “I bet.” She gestured for him to rise, took his arm, and walked a fewpaces away. “You and Tubbs worked together?” “Yeah. Yeah. Tyro Communications. We—we hung out.” “Big guy, huh?” “Who, Tubbs? Yeah, yeah.” Steiner wiped sweat from his brow. “Came in about two-fifty, I guess. So we figured it’d be a gag to havehim rent the Santa suit for the party.” “What kind of toys and goodies did Tubbs have in his sack today,Ron?” “Oh, man.” He covered his face with his hands. “Oh, Jesus.” “We’re not on record yet, Ron. We will be, but right now just tell mewhat went down. Your friend’s dead, and so is some poor schmuckwho was just walking on the sidewalk.” He spoke through his hands. “Bosses set up this lunch buffet deal forthe office party. Wouldn’t even spring for some brew, you know?” RonMEMORY IN DEATH 3shivered twice, hard, then dropped his arms to his sides. “So a bunch ofus got together, and we pooled to rent the suite for the whole day. Afterthe brass left, we brought out the booze and the . . . the recreationalchemicals. So to speak.” “Such as?” He swallowed, then finally met her eyes. “You know, a little Exotica,some Push and Jazz.” “Zeus?” “I don’t mess with that. I’ll take the test, you’ll see. All I did was afew tokes of Jazz.” When Eve said nothing, merely stared into his eyes,he welled up. “He never used heavy stuff. Not Tubbs, man, I swear.I’d’ve known. But I think he had some today, maybe laced some of thePush with it, or somebody did. Asshole,” he said as tears spilled downhis cheeks. “He was juiced up, I can tell you that. But man, it was aparty. We were just having fun. People were laughing and dancing.Then Tubbs, he opens the window.” His hands were everywhere now. His face, his throat, his hair. “Oh,God, oh, God. I figured it was because it was getting smokey. Nextthing you know, he’s climbing up, he’s got this big, stupid grin on hisface. He shouts, ‘Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.’ Thenhe fucking dived out. Head first. Jesus Christ, he was just gone. Nobodyeven thought to grab for him. It happened so fast, so damn fast. Peoplestarted screaming and running, and I ran to the window and looked.”He mopped at his face with his hands, shuddered again. “And Iyelled for somebody to call nine-one-one, and Ben and I ran down.I don’t know why. We were his friends, and we ran down.” “Where’d he get the stuff, Ron?” “Man, this is fucked up.” He looked away, over her head, out to thestreet. Fighting, Eve knew, the standard little war between ratting outand standing up. “He must’ve gotten it from Zero. A bunch of us chipped in so wecould get a party pack. Nothing heavy, I swear.” “Where does Zero operate?” “He runs a data club, Broadway and Twenty-ninth. Zero’s. Sellsrecreationals under the counter. Tubbs, man, he was harmless. He wasjust a big stupid guy.” The big stupid guy and the poor schmuck he landed on were beingscraped off the sidewalk when Eve walked into party central. It lookedas she’d expected it would look: an unholy mess of abandoned clothes,spilled booze, dropped food. The window remained open, which wasfortunate as the stench of smoke, puke, and sex still permeated.Witnesses who hadn’t run like rabbits had given statements in adjoiningrooms, then had been released. “What’s your take?” Eve asked Peabody as she crossed the minefieldof plates and glasses scattered on the carpet....

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Verlag
Berkley
Erscheinungsdatum
2006
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0425210731
ISBN 13 
9780425210734
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
384
Kontakt zum Hersteller
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Verantwortliche Person
preigu
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