Iris Johansen - Blind Alley

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Blind Alley: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Forensic sculptor Eve Duncan returns in this far-fetched but expertly plotted, eminently entertaining novel. When detective Joe Quinn is called to investigate the murder of a young woman whose skin has been peeled away from her skull, he presses the overloaded Eve to work her grisly magic. Eve is shocked to realize that the victim bears an uncanny resemblance to Jane MacGuire, the headstrong 17-year-old she and Joe have adopted, and who was already menaced by another serial killer in 1999's
. Then a suspicious inspector from Scotland Yard, Mark Trevor, arrives with the grim news that a string of women with similar features have been murdered in Italy, England and Spain. A serial killer he calls Aldo has been working his way around the globe, butchering women who look like Cira, a beautiful young actress from the ancient Roman city of Herculaneum (which was destroyed by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius), whom he holds responsible for his father's death (such is the logic of the insane). Since Jane looks like Cira (and, incidentally, has been having nightmares about being her and trying to escape the volcano's destruction) she will be his prey—or bait. Johansen fans will recall that Eve lost her biological daughter, Bonnie, to a serial killer, so her desire to bring Aldo to justice is tied up with her still-sharp grief. Meanwhile, Jane behaves like a typical teenager, living in denial of her own mortality while feeling intoxicated by the sexy air of peril that now surrounds her. Aldo never comes fully into focus as a villain, but that doesn't matter much, since one of the real engines of fear in the novel is Jane's burgeoning sexuality.
From Booklist
In her latest thriller about Atlanta detective Joe Quinn and the love of his life, forensic sculptor Eve Duncan, Joe gives Eve a skull to reconstruct. Eerily enough, the face resembles 17-year-old Jane MacGuire, who has been offered sanctuary by Eve and Joe after surviving a rough-and-tumble life on the streets. Now it seems that a killer is trying to erase all evidence of her face because it is identical to that of a statue of a woman who died during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Several look-alikes have already been killed in Europe, and Scotland Yard sends in hunky Mark Trevor to help. Eve mistrusts him, but Jane, who has had recurring nightmares related to the killings, believes that he's there to help her. Eve and Joe want to protect Jane, but the intrepid teenager knows that unless she confronts the killer, she will live the rest of her life in fear. Johansen has become adept at mixing supernatural elements with intriguing suspense, and her new tale will please both fans and new converts with its unpredictable journey from Atlanta to the archaeological digs of Herculaneum in Italy.

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“Something happened.”

She knew what he meant and she wasn't going to deny it. “Nothing that I can't forget.”

He grimaced. “I wish I could say the same.”

“You shouldn't forget. You fouled up.” She had to get away. She was forgetting anger and remembering the hurt. She turned and started down the path. “Maybe you'll learn something from it.”

“I already have.” His voice followed her as she reached the arbor. “Don't go too far, Jane.”

She didn't answer. She desperately hoped he'd leave. The peacefulness of that moment before he came into the garden was gone. She'd thought she'd armored herself against him but, good Lord, she was actually trembling. Was that what sex did to you? Then she could do without it. She wanted full control of her body and didn't like the way it was betraying her. She didn't want to remember how he'd looked with the mellow sunlight turning his tanned skin to gold. She didn't want to remember how it had felt to touch him.

She wouldn't remember. She'd behaved with strength and intelligence and this aftershock would disappear soon. She glanced back over her shoulder. Relief flooded her as she saw that Trevor had gone back into the house. She'd stay here a little longer to regain her composure and then leave the garden and go up to her room. She needed a shower and she needed to see Eve. Not to talk. She wasn't good at confidences, but being with Eve always calmed her. Whenever she was filled with hurt or—

Her phone rang.

Probably Eve concerned that she'd been out here too long.

“I'll be in soon, Eve. You should smell the roses. It almost makes you drunk with—”

“Are you in the garden?”

Aldo.

Shock turned her rigid and she couldn't speak.

“You're not answering.”

“Yes, I'm in the garden.” Her voice was uneven and she had to steady it. “Where are you?”

“Close. I watched you down in that tunnel today. I was almost near enough to touch you. I will touch you soon. Shall I tell how?”

“I'm not interested. You're being ridiculous. You can't—” She stopped. As much as she wanted to argue with him, it would ruin everything if she actually convinced him she wasn't Cira. Play along with him. Stop protesting and try to set him up. “Suppose you're right and I am Cira. You can't stop me. I'm too close. Eve is doing the reconstruction now and when it's finished, I'll be famous. Even after I'm dead I'll still live forever. My face will be posted on the sides of buses. They'll do documentaries about me. They'll name perfumes Cira. You can make your telephone calls, spit all the poison you like, but it's not going to do you any good. You'll lose.”

“Bitch.” He was clearly having to smother his rage. “You think you're so safe sitting surrounded by Duncan and Quinn and that bastard, Trevor. None of them can protect you. I'll kill you and then I'll kill them.”

Her heart jerked and her hand tightened on the phone. “Why kill them? I'm the one you want.”

“You infected them. They'd never give up hunting for me.” He was silent a moment. “That bothers you.”

“No, it just seems stupid.”

“You're trying to deceive me. It does bother you. Perhaps when you draw them to you, it causes you to form an attachment yourself.”

“If I'm as cold as you think, then you couldn't be more wrong.”

“But you aren't always cold. Julius Precebio wrote with disgusting detail about your passion. You can be touched. Trevor has touched you, hasn't he?”

“No.”

“You lie. I saw him look at you.” His voice turned soft. “And I saw you with Eve Duncan on the porch one night. You were very emotional.”

She felt a cold chill. “I was pretending.”

“Maybe. But maybe not. I hear something in your tone. . . .” His own tone was suddenly laden with malice. “At any rate, it's too promising not to explore. Shall I tell you what I'm going to do to Eve Duncan?”

“No.”

“She works very hard giving victims back their faces, doesn't she? I'm going to take her face away. I've gotten very proficient at slicing away that evil face of yours. Sometimes those women stayed conscious until the end. I'll go slowly with Duncan and make sure she suffers the full torment she deserves.”

She tried to keep her voice from shaking. “You truly are a monster.”

“Oh, no, I'm the sword of justice. You're the monster. It's you who twisted my father's mind until he could give me nothing but scorn, it's you who lured Duncan and the others here when Sontag found that skeleton. You knew I'd kill them if they got in my way.”

“You're not talking about killing them if they get in your way. You're saying that you'll kill them anyway.”

“Once you started using them, they automatically had to be removed.” He chuckled. “And now that I know it's going to upset you, I may have to plan a way to do it while you're still alive. It will be an added pleasure.”

“Aren't you getting distracted? I'm your target.”

“I couldn't be more focused. It's been a pleasure chatting with you. We'll do it again soon. Good-bye, Cira.” He hung up.

Dear God, she was shaking.

She reached out and grabbed the wrought-iron post of the arbor to steady herself. Ugliness. Madness. Death.

Terror.

Her heart was beating hard, painfully hard.

Eve. Joe. Trevor.

God help her, Eve . . .

“Jane?”

She looked over her shoulder to see Trevor coming down the path from the house.

“What's wrong?”

She shook her head.

“What's wrong, dammit?” He reached out and grabbed her shoulders. “I was keeping an eye on you from the house and I saw you reach out and grab that fence as if it were a lifeline.”

“Phone call,” she said numbly. “Jesus, Eve.”

“The call was from Eve?”

“Aldo.”

He stiffened. “What?”

“He said he'd call me. We were expecting it. I just didn't—” She tried to pull away. “Let me go.”

“When you finish telling me what the hell's happening.”

“Aldo.”

“What did he say?”

“Too much.” She moistened her lips. “He's really nuts. And I'm worse. I fouled up. I was going to try to set him up but then I lost him. I let him see . . . I blew it. I got so scared and he could tell.” Her hands clenched into fists but she couldn't stop the trembling. “He could tell and now he'll do it. But I can't let him. It's my fault. I won't let him near her, not a—”

“Jane, shut up. Do you want me to slap you?”

She looked up at him in shock. “You do and I'll kick you so hard in the nuts, you'll be a soprano.”

“Okay, you're back to normal.” His hands loosened on her shoulders. “Come on and sit down on the bench and get your breath.”

She'd already gotten her breath back but she still couldn't control the shaking. She sat down and crossed her arms over her chest. “I'm not back to normal. I'm scared and sick and I want to be alone. Go away.”

“The hell I will. When you're ready to talk to me, I'm going to be here.”

Oh, let him stay. It didn't matter. Give him what he wanted. She took a deep breath. “He's going to kill her. It doesn't matter if he kills me first. He's going to kill her anyway.”

“Eve?”

“Eve and Joe and you. But he got a good deal of pleasure out of telling me how he was going to kill Eve.” Her nails dug into her palms. “I won't let him do it. I'll keep her safe.”

“Jane, Eve knew there was a certain amount of danger when she decided to come here. You knew it too.”

“But I didn't know that he'd make her a target. I thought he'd focus on me. All his other victims were women with my face. How was I to know he'd decide everyone I was close to had to die? He even wants to kill you.”

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