Джеймс Паттерсон - Liar Liar

Contents

About Book

About Authors

Also by James Patterson

Title Page

Chapter 1

Five weeks later

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Chapter 88

Chapter 89

Chapter 90

Chapter 91

Chapter 92

Chapter 93

Chapter 94

Chapter 95

Chapter 96

Chapter 97

Chapter 98

Chapter 99

Chapter 100

Chapter 101

Chapter 102

Chapter 103

Chapter 104

Chapter 105

Chapter 106

Chapter 107

Chapter 108

Chapter 109

Chapter 110

Chapter 111

Chapter 112

Chapter 113

One week later

Chapter 114

Chapter 115

Chapter 116

Read on for an Excerpt from REVENGE

Copyright

About the Book

Detective Harriet Blueis clear about two things. Regan Banks deserves to die. And she’ll be the one to pull the trigger.

But Regan – the vicious serial killer responsible for destroying her brother’s life – has gone to ground.

Suddenly, her phone rings. It’s him. Regan.

‘Catch me if you can,’ he tells her.

Harriet needs to find this killing machine fast, even if the cost is her own life. So she follows him down the Australian south coast with only one thing on her mind.

Revenge is coming – and its name is Harriet Blue …

About the Authors

James Patterson

JAMES PATTERSON is one of the best-known and biggest-selling writers of all time. His books have sold in excess of 375 million copies worldwide. He is the author of some of the most popular series of the past two decades – the Alex Cross, Women’s Murder Club, Detective Michael Bennett and Private novels – and he has written many other number one bestsellers including romance novels and stand-alone thrillers.

James is passionate about encouraging children to read. Inspired by his own son who was a reluctant reader, he also writes a range of books for young readers including the Middle School, I Funny, Treasure Hunters, House of Robots, Confessions, and Maximum Ride series. James has donated millions in grants to independent bookshops and has been the most borrowed author of adult fiction in UK libraries for the past eleven years in a row. He lives in Florida with his wife and son.

Candice Fox

Candice is the middle child of a large, eccentric family from Sydney’s western suburbs. The daughter of a parole officer and an enthusiastic foster-carer, Candice spent her childhood listening around corners to tales of violence, madness and evil as her father relayed his work stories to her mother and older brothers.

Candice won back-to-back Ned Kelly awards for her first two novels Hades and Eden . She is also the author of the critically acclaimed Fall and co-writer with James Patterson of the Sunday Times No.1 bestseller Never Never set in the Australian outback.

Also by James Patterson

DETECTIVE HARRIET BLUE SERIES

Never Never ( with Candice Fox )

Fifty Fifty ( with Candice Fox )

A list of more titles by James Patterson is printed at the back of this book

Chapter

1

SOMETHING WAS NOT right.

Doctor Samantha Parish noticed an odour as she pulled the door of her Prius closed. An earthy, almost metallic smell, the distinct reek of male sweat. As soon as the lock clicked, she knew one corner of her world was out of place.

When he spoke from the back seat, a part of her wasn’t even surprised.

‘Try to stay calm,’ he said.

But his deep, soothing tone made staying calm impossible. His self-assurance told her he was speaking from experience. This was the moment his victim usually panicked.

Doctor Parish’s first impulse was to push open the door and roll out of the vehicle. The quickly darkening parking lot was full of cars where other mothers waited. Teenage girls in black leotards, matching pink silk bags hanging from thin shoulders, were filing between the vehicles from the door of the nearby hall. When Samantha tried to move, she found her body was frozen.

‘Don’t make a sound,’ the man said. ‘Put your hands on the wheel. Eyes straight ahead.’

Her shaking hands moved to the steering wheel, gripped hard. She smelled blood. Rain or stagnant water, something almost swampy.

She chanced a look in the rear-view mirror. He was silhou-etted against the sun setting beyond the nearby park. Shaved head. Tall. Broad, powerful shoulders.

‘What do you want?’ Her voice was far smaller than she had intended.

A click. The sound of a gun.

Doctor Parish felt tears sliding down her cheeks. ‘Please, just take the car.’

He said nothing. What are we waiting for? she wondered. Then it hit her, hard in the chest, like a punch. She’d forgotten all about Isobel. She turned, her mouth twisted in a silent howl just as her eleven-year-old daughter opened the passenger-side door.

‘No!’ Doctor Parish could hardly form the words. ‘Isobel, ru–’

The child didn’t even look at her mother. She was wearing those little white headphones, cut off from the world around her. She flopped into the car and pulled the door shut behind her with a whump , locking her inside their nightmare.

As they arrived at the clinic, Isobel gave a moan of terror, huddling against her mother as they exited the car. In her ballet get-up, she was the frightened black swan, shoulders bent forward, trying to disappear under her mother’s wing.

They walked to the doors and Samantha swiped their way into the darkened space.

She guessed where he wanted to go and turned and walked through the consulting room into theatre three. They passed a large poster of a woman with perfectly symmetrical breasts, a chart showing liposuction before and after shots. Parish Lifestyle and Body Enhancement Clinic was embossed in thin letters on a stainless-steel plate above the door.

What he wanted from them was becoming clear, at least to Samantha. She watched him undressing carefully in the surgery room, easing a messily bandaged shoulder out of the torn shirt. His clothes were filthy, his skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat. She could smell already that the wounds were septic. Trying to control her shaking, she straightened, let go of her daughter and took a step towards him.