By Frank Wynne, Pierre Lemaitre
Author note: Frank Wynne (Translator)
Upon profitable the celebrated 2013 Crime Writers organization foreign Dagger Award, the judges praised Alex by means of announcing, "An unique and soaking up skill to leash incredulity within the identify of the fictitious agreement among writer and reader . . . A police procedural, a mystery opposed to time, a race among hunted and hunter, and a whydunnit, written from a number of issues of view that discover numerous it seems that parallel tales which eventually meet."
Alex Prévost--kidnapped, savagely crushed, suspended from the ceiling of an deserted warehouse in a tiny wood cage--is operating out of time. Her abductor seems to be to need simply to monitor her die. Will starvation, thirst, or the rats get her first?
except a shaky eyewitness document of the kidnapping, Police Commandant Camille Verhoeven has not anything to move on: no suspect, no leads, and no family members or acquaintances nervous to discover a lacking friend. The diminutive and remarkable detective is aware from sour adventure the urgency of discovering the lacking lady as quick as possible--but first he needs to comprehend extra approximately her.
As he uncovers the main points of the younger woman's singular heritage, Camille is pressured to recognize that the individual he seeks isn't any traditional sufferer. She is gorgeous, convinced, but additionally super tricky and creative. earlier than lengthy, saving Alex's existence often is the least of Commandant Verhoeven's enormous challenges.
A 2013 Financial Times ebook of the Year
Shortlisted for the 2014 RUSA analyzing checklist Horror Award
From the Hardcover edition.
Read Online or Download Alex (The Commandant Camille Verhoeven Trilogy, Book 1) PDF
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Additional resources for Alex (The Commandant Camille Verhoeven Trilogy, Book 1)
Find out if anyone saw or heard anything and if any members of the family had contact with the staff. Talk to all shifts. Drag them out of bed if you have to. ” I wondered if the police footwork would ferret out any useful information. Should the killer prove to be even half as elusive as the kanji, Renna’s efforts would lead nowhere. “Good. Next, bring me the hotel bill, luggage, and a computer printout of any calls in or out. Order a full workup on the rooms for prints and fiber and get onto the Japanese consulate for a list of any friends the vics might have in town, the state, the country.
Good to hear,” he said. “Good and bad. ” He nodded unhappily. ” “Not promising, I know. But I signed on for the full tour. ” “No. M. WHEN the knock came, I was whipping up some scrambled eggs and toast while listening to Zen II, an early album by Katsuya Yokoyama, one of Japan’s bamboo flute virtuosos. In this piece he played soulful tunes with a knowing calm. In others he stretched his notes to the throaty hoarseness of a mountain wind. He could make the shakuhachi wail or mourn, his inflection teetering on the edge, straining for a hard truth.
There was something in his stride, but no, he wasn’t law enforcement. Summers set down the binoculars and picked up his camera. He adjusted the range of the telephoto lens and captured several shots of the new guy. This time he noticed the HT, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Japanese ball cap? Bad news. But just the kind of news he was charged with discovering—and defusing. That was the beauty of Soga. With deep-cover surveillance on site after the kill, no one could trip them up. Summers trained his camera on the new man’s car and snapped a close-up of the license plate, several of the Cutlass, then called in the number.