Karin Slaughter - Skin Privilege

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Skin Privilege: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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It's no simple case of murder. Lena Adams has spent her life struggling to escape her past. She has only unhappy memories of Reece, the small town which nearly destroyed her. She's made a new life for herself as a police detective in Heartsdale, a hundred miles away – but nothing could prepare her for the violence which explodes when she is forced to return. A vicious murder leaves a young woman incinerated beyond recognition. And Lena is the only suspect. When Heartsdale police chief Jeffrey Tolliver, Lena's boss, receives word that his detective has been arrested, he has no choice but to go to Lena's aid – taking with him his wife, medical examiner Sara Linton. But soon after their arrival, a second victim is found. The town closes ranks. And both Jeffrey and Sara find themselves entangled in a horrifying underground world of bigotry and rage – a violent world which shocks even them. A world which puts their own lives in jeopardy. Only Jeffrey and Sara can free Lena from the web of lies, betrayal and brutality that has trapped her. But can they discover the truth before the killer strikes again?
***
'No one does American small-town evil more chillingly… Slaughter tells a dark story that grips and doesn't let go' The Times
'This is without doubt an accomplished, compelling and complex tale, with page-turning power aplenty' Daily Express
'Beautifully paced, appropriately grisly, and terrifyingly plausible' Time Out
'Slaughter knows exactly when to ratchet up the menace, and when to loiter on the more personal and emotional aspects of the victims. Thoroughly gripping, yet thoroughly gruesome stuff' Daily Mirror
'An explosive thriller with plenty of twists – this is criminally spectacular!' OK!
'A great read… This is crime fiction at its finest' Michael Connelly 'Slaughter's plotting is relentless, piling on surprises and twists… A good read that should come with a psychological health warning' Guardian
'Another brilliantly chilling tale from Slaughter' beat A fast-paced and unsettling story… A compelling and fluid read' Daily Telegraph
'Structured and paced brilliantly; the tension is unceasing throughout. Slaughter's shock tactics don't allow the reader to relax for a single moment' The Times
'Slaughter deftly turns all assumptions on their head. Her ability to make you buy into one reality then another, means that the surprises – and the violent scenes – keep coming' Time Out
'Don't read this alone. Don't read this after dark. But do read it' Daily Mirror
'A salutary reminder that Slaughter is one of the most riveting writers in the field today' Sunday Express
'Confirms her at the summit of the school of writers specialising in forensic medicine and terror… Slaughter's characters talk in believable dialogue. She's excellent at portraying the undertones and claustrophobia of communities where everyone knows everyone else's business, and even better at creating an atmosphere of lurking evil' The Times
'With Blindsighted, Karin Slaughter left a great many mystery writers looking anxiously over their shoulders. With Kisscut, she leaves most of them behind' John Connolly
'Slaughter's narrative is superb, a game of show and tell that constantly exhilarates as the next unexpected piece of the jigsaw fits into place' Birmingham Post
'Gripping, gruesome and definitely not for the faint-hearted' Woman Home
'Karin Slaughter is a fearless writer. She takes us to the deep, dark places other novelists don't dare to go. Kisscut will cement her reputation as one of the boldest thriller writers working today' Tess Gerritsen
'Unsparing, exciting, genuinely alarming… excellent handling of densely woven plot, rich in interactions, well characterised and as subtle as it is shrewd' Literary Review
'This gripping debut novel, filled with unremittingly graphic forensic details, is likely to have Patricia Cornwell and Kathy Reichs glancing nervously in their rearview mirrors because rookie Karin Slaughter is off the starting grid as quickly as Michael Schumacher and is closing on them fast' Irish Independent
'Brutal and chilling' Daily Mirror 'Energetic, suspenseful writing from Slaughter, who spares no detail in this bloody account of violent sexual crime but also brings compassion and righteous anger to it' Manchester Evening News
'It's not easy to transcend a model like Patricia Cornwell, but Slaughter does so in a thriller whose breakneck plotting and not-for-the-squeamish forensics provide grim manifestations of a deeper evil her mystery trumpets without ever quite containing' Kirkus Reviews
'A tension-filled narrative with plenty of plot twists… This is just the ticket for readers who like their crime fiction on the dark side' Booklist
'Wildly readable… [Slaughter] has been compared to Thomas Harris and Patricia Cornwell, and for once the hype is justified… deftly crafted, damnably suspenseful and, in the end, deadly serious. Slaughter's plotting is brilliant, her suspense relentless' Washington Post
'Slaughter has created a ferociously taut and terrifying story which is, at the same time, compassionate and real. I defy anyone to read it in more than three sittings' Denise Mina
'Wildly readable… hits the bull's eye' New York Post 'Taut, mean, nasty and bloody well written. She conveys a sense of time and place with clarity and definite menace – the finely tuned juxtaposition of sleepy Southern town and urgent, gut-wrenching terror' Stella Duffy
'Taut and tight and tinged with terror' Houston Chronicle 'A story that roars its way through the final pages, Slaughter's thriller is scary, shocking and perfectly suspenseful' BookPage.com
'The undertone of violence is pervasive, even at quiet moments, amplifying Slaughter's equation of intimacy with menace and placing her squarely in the ranks of Cornwell and Reichs' Publishers Weekly
'Slaughter's gift for building multi-layered tension while deconstructing damaged personalities gives this thriller a nerve-wracking finish' USA Today
'A page turner… has more twists than a Slinky Factory' People
'A debut novel that blows your socks off. Karin Slaughter has immediately jumped to the front of the line of first-rate thriller writers…' Rocky Mountain News

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Bart said, 'Can we get this over with?'

Jeffrey opened the file on the table. He fanned out the photographs they had found in a folder on Jake Valentine's desk. Judging from the charred debris in his wastebasket, there had been more photographs, but Valentine had taken care to make sure it was only Fred Bart and Boyd Gibson implicated in the surveillance photos. The sheriff had been telling Jeffrey the truth when he said he'd called the GBI. Nick's office had logged a call on his voice mail about an hour before Jeffrey and Sara had gotten to the jail. Valentine had sounded giddy as he laid out the case of the drug-pin dentist.

Fred Bart barely glanced at the photographs. The pictures were grainy, but they still managed to tell a story. Jeffrey tapped his finger on the top one, which showed Fred Bart with Boyd Gibson smoking cigarettes outside an abandoned-looking warehouse. Behind them, a drug transaction was taking place. Another photo showed Bart in his Jag passing off a stack of money to Boyd Gibson, All the photos pointed the finger at Fred Bart as being the meth mastermind in town with Gibson as his muscle.

Bart blustered, 'Obviously, those have been doctored.'

'I'm sure you can find an expert to tell that to a jury,' Jeffrey admitted. Jake Valentine had done a good job setting up the dentist. If Lena hadn't seen the tattoo under the sheriff's arm, no one would have questioned Valentine's evidence – or Bart's death in his own homegrown meth lab, courtesy of Clint Jones.

Jeffrey told him, 'Your bank account shows a cash deposit of over two hundred thousand dollars Friday morning.'

'I was in my office with patients. I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'You mean your office where they found enough meth to powder a ski slope?' He paused. 'Jake was ready to hand the GBI the bust of a lifetime.'

Bart shook his head slowly side to side. 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

Jeffrey laid it out for the man. 'You're looking at the death penalty.'

The lawyer interjected, 'My client is cooperating in every way he knows how.'

'He shot a man in cold blood in front of a police detective.'

'She was high,' Bart protested, much as Nick had predicted. 'With the amount of chemicals in that room, I'm surprised she even remembers she was there. You know what she did to Jake. She cut off his hand! That's not the action of a thinking person.'

Jeffrey thought it was the action of somebody who didn't want to die. 'You injected my wife with a sedative.'

'Jake would've hurt her if I hadn't knocked her out. Mark my words. He was a violent man.'

The lawyer stiffened. Jeffrey would have missed it if he hadn't been watching.

Jeffrey asked Bart, 'How were you protecting Charlotte Gibson in the back of that Escalade?'

'I've already told your friend here that wasn't me,' Bart insisted. 'I was at home watching TV that night.'

' Lena 's willing to make a positive ID.'

Bart flashed a smile. 'It's my understanding that the perpetrator of that crime was masked.'

'Yeah,' Jeffrey agreed. 'But it's hard to hide behind a mask when you've got little ferret teeth.'

Bart covered his mouth with his hand before he could stop himself.

Jeffrey said, 'Tell me about Boyd Gibson.'

The lawyer seemed to perk up at the sound of Gibson's name. Was Fred Bart the only person in the room who didn't realize the guy was working the other side? Jeffrey would've loved to roll up the man's sleeves, look for any tattoos he might have.

Jeffrey repeated, 'Boyd Gibson?'

Bart talked slowly, moving his lips as little as possible as if he could hide his teeth. 'Jake told me what happened,' he said. 'Clint and Boyd never got along, but Jake kept them in line. He told them to burn down Hank's bar. Lena had spent some time there and Jake didn't like her poking around. He was trying to scare her off.'

'So?' Jeffrey prompted.

'So, Jake said that they poured gasoline around the outside of the bar. Clint threw a match on it, but then Boyd started yelling about how Hank kept some money inside, stuffed under a floorboard or something.'

'He ran into a burning building to get cash?'

Jeffrey asked, thinking that if Bart was telling the truth, Jeffrey had risked his life to save one of the stupidest bastards on earth.

Bart nodded. 'At that point, you came along. Boyd got away and he met up with Clint in the woods. They had some kind of argument. I told you these men were hotheaded.' Bart paused for effect. 'At any rate, Clint ended up stabbing Boyd.'

'And then what?'

'And then he had to tell Jake.'

'What about the knife?'

'Clint didn't want to lose his knife – it was expensive – so he used one he'd… found.' The man held out his hands in an open shrug. 'Mind you, I got this story second-hand from Jake, so I can't confirm the veracity.'

'Yeah,' Jeffrey said. 'I understand that.' He crossed his arms. 'Did Jake say whose idea it was to throw Boyd's body into my hotel room?'

'His. Jake thought if your wife got scared enough, you'd leave town.'

Jeffrey asked, 'What about Charlotte Gibson?'

'Jake got worried because she was talking to Lena.'

'So Jake torched her?'

'Yes. Jake liked to send messages.'

'Is that right?'

'Yes.'

Jeffrey remembered what Lena had said about Bart's last words to Valentine, the anger that had boiled up between the two men. The dentist had been supplementing his income with meth since Valentine was in diapers. He'd been the big man in town until Myra had married her college sweetheart.

'Lemme get this straight.' Jeffrey summarized, counting off the dead bodies on his fingers as he said, 'Clint Jones killed Boyd Gibson, Jake killed Charlotte and of course you were kind enough to shoot Clint in – what – self-defense? I guess leaving Lena and Sara in the house to die was some kind of oversight on your part?'

'I know I shouldn't have left those women there, but I was terrified. Jake has some powerful friends. I ran away because I was frightened. I take full responsibility for that.'

'I'm happy to hear you take responsibility for something.'

He tried to defend himself, saying, 'I called the sheriff's office and gave an anonymous tip.'

Nick had obviously heard this before. 'We listened to the nine-one-one tapes from Friday, Fred. We haven't found anything.'

'Then you need to keep looking,' Bart insisted. 'I called from a pay phone at the Stop 'n' Save. It should have my fingerprints on it.'

Jeffrey didn't doubt the phone had Bart's prints on it. He'd had plenty of time to think up an alibi while Lena and Sara were fighting for their lives.

'What about the other body?' Jeffrey asked.

'Other body?' Bart echoed. 'What other body?'

He seemed as surprised as Sara and Lena had been. Both women swore they hadn't seen anyone else in Hank's house, but the remains of a man's body had been found somewhere in the vicinity of the back bedroom.

Jeffrey told him, 'There was another set of bones in Hank Norton's house. The state coroner says he was an older man, maybe in his sixties.'

Bart looked at his hands. 'I don't know anything about that.'

'You don't know anything about a lot of things,' Jeffrey challenged. 'I think you're just sitting there with your little mind spinning, trying to come up with quick answers for every question, but the thing is you've got no idea how deep this hole is you're standing in.'

'I don't know what you mean.'

Jeffrey looked at Nick. Both men knew that Bart was either too arrogant or too stupid to see that his life was pretty much over the minute he shot Clint Jones and told Jake Valentine to get under the sink.

'All righty.' Nick sighed, pressing his palms against the table as he stood up.

Bart yelped, 'What are you doing?'

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