The Book of the Dead

The Book of the Dead

Language: English

Pages: 621


Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The Book of the Dead by Preston,Douglas; Child,Lincoln. [2007] Paperback

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Grasping the rack on top of the van, he pulled himself onto the roof. A man leaped out of the van. “What the hell are you doing?” he cried. “We’ve got a live broadcast in session!” “NYPD Homicide,” said Hayward, positioning herself between him and the bumper. D’Agosta steadied himself on top of the van, legs apart. Then he raised the axe above his head again. “Hey! You can’t do that!” “Watch me.” With one tremendous swing, D’Agosta struck through the metal posts supporting the satellite

hand like a forgotten appendage. Hayward frowned in surprise. “Rogerson?” she asked. The cop’s eyes swiveled toward her briefly, then swiveled away. After a second, he turned his back on them and began staggering off. Hayward reached over and plucked the gun from the man’s unresisting hand. “What the hell happened here?” D’Agosta cried, looking around at the scattering of torn clothes, shoes, blood, and injured guests. “There’s no time to explain,” Pendergast said. “Captain Hayward, you and

the slamming of a door. And the buzz of the Ape, closer now, in one of the crooked streets that rose toward his villa. He put the glass down on the parapet and lit a cigarette, drawing in the smoke, exhaling into the twilit air. He peered down into the streets below. The Ape was definitely coming up the hill, probably on Vicolo San Bartolo . . . The tinny whine drew still closer, and for the first time Diogenes felt a twinge of apprehension. The dinner hour was an unusual time for an Ape to be

she replied. Singleton frowned. “A disciplinary hearing is not a spectator sport.” “I’m aware of that.” “You’ve already been deposed. Your showing up here in person, without being called to provide fresh information, may imply . . .” Singleton hesitated. D’Agosta flushed at the insinuation. He stole a glance at Hayward and was surprised by what he saw. The cloudiness had left her face, and she suddenly looked calm. It was as if, after struggling for a long time, she had reached some private

picked up another slender volume from the pile beside him. “Have you ever read Theodore Roethke?” Constance shook her head. “Ah! Then you are about to experience a most delicious, undiscovered pleasure.” He opened the book, selected a page, and began. I think the dead are tender. Shall we kiss?— Listening, Constance suddenly felt a strange feeling blossom deep within her: something faintly grasped at in fleeting dreams and yet still unknown, something rich and forbidden. We sing together;

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