• Пожаловаться

Cara Black: Murder in the Bastille

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Cara Black: Murder in the Bastille» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию). В некоторых случаях присутствует краткое содержание. категория: Старинная литература / на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале. Библиотека «Либ Кат» — LibCat.ru создана для любителей полистать хорошую книжку и предлагает широкий выбор жанров:

любовные романы фантастика и фэнтези приключения детективы и триллеры эротика документальные научные юмористические анекдоты о бизнесе проза детские сказки о религиии новинки православные старинные про компьютеры программирование на английском домоводство поэзия

Выбрав категорию по душе Вы сможете найти действительно стоящие книги и насладиться погружением в мир воображения, прочувствовать переживания героев или узнать для себя что-то новое, совершить внутреннее открытие. Подробная информация для ознакомления по текущему запросу представлена ниже:

Cara Black Murder in the Bastille

Murder in the Bastille: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «Murder in the Bastille»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

"Cara Black books are good companions, and especially so. Fine characters, good suspense, but, best of all, they are transcendentally, seductively, irresistibly French. If you can't go, these will do fine. Or, better, go and bring them with you."--Alan Furst "Charming. . . . Aimée is one of those blithe spirits who can walk you through the city's historical streets and byways with their eyes closed."--Marilyn Stasio, "Paris is one of my favorite cities in all the world; Black's books are a fine way to revisit it."--

Cara Black: другие книги автора


Кто написал Murder in the Bastille? Узнайте фамилию, как зовут автора книги и список всех его произведений по сериям.

Murder in the Bastille — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком

Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «Murder in the Bastille», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.

Шрифт:

Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать




MURDER

in the BASTILLE





Cara Black





Фото


Dedicated to all the ghosts, past

and present.






Thanks to so many generous people who shared their knowledge and themselves: savvy Kathleen Knox and her seeing-eye dog Thai; Ron Hideshima, invaluable Access Technology Instructor, of the Living Skills Center for the Visually Impaired; Bill Simpson, Donna and the caring staff at Rose Resnick Lighthouse; the Tuesday group; Steven Platzman; Grace Loh, her insight, Jean Satzer, above and beyond, Dot Edwards who lived it and shared, toujours James N. Frey, Ron Huberman, San Francisco DA’s office, Dr. Eddie Tamura, his expertise, Mike Hakershaw, soul soeur Marion Nowak, Dr. Terri Haddix, and all bookseller amies.

In Paris: mercis to Anne-Françoise Delbegue, her wit, warmth and Bastille guidance; the Residence St. Louis, Carla, Kathleen and Marcus Haddock et Sarah, Martine, Gilles, Lesley, Gala; Brentano’s on Avenue de l’Opera; Isabelle et Andi; officer Cathy Etilé and Commandant Michel Bruno of the Commissariat Central du 12ème arrondissement who answer toutes and more.

Linda Allen for her support; deep thanks to Laura Hruska who encourages risks . . . big ones; Shuchan, my son, and Jun who puts up with it all.







You are not alive unless you know you are living

—graffiti on a Paris wall


In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king

—Desiderius Erasmus, Adagia

  

Фото


PARIS


OCTOBER, 1994


Monday Evening

AIMÉE LEDUC FELT THE air shift, the floating candles waver, as a woman murmuring into a cell phone, wearing a black silk Chinese jacket identical to Aimée’s, sat down on the restaurant banquette next to her.

Great. Just Aimée’s luck someone showed up in her jacket tonight. For a moment Aimée made eye contact with the woman. Blunt blonde shocks of hair framed her face. She favored Aimée with an intense stare. The vein in her temple stood out in her otherwise perfectly made-up face.

“Wouldn’t you know it!” Aimée said to her.

“Things could get worse. The woman shrugged, as if wearing the same outfit as her neighbor were the least of her worries. Aimée noticed the frightened look in her eyes before she averted her face.

Around them, illuminated by red glass Etruscan-style sconces, Parisiens drank, dined, and smoked. This upscale resto, formerly a meat market, with its exposed beams and rusted meathooks, was booked weeks ahead. But her client, Vincent Csarda, head of Populax, an agence de publicité, never had trouble getting a table.

Tinkling glasses and the waiters’ shouts made it difficult for Aimée to hear Vincent’s words. Vincent, the brains behind his advertising agency, who was sitting across from her, stabbed his slithering ziti con vongole as he spoke.

“But I’m just the mec stuck in the middle. My agency subcontracted this Incandescent campaign only two weeks ago,” he said. His short coifed hair and red bow tie were out of place in this fashionably dressed late evening dinner crowd. He was not quite Aimée’s height. Vincent, who was in his mid-thirties, was a nervous type. She figured he was gaunt from overwork and espresso. She wished it worked that way for her.

Aimée knew she should be home preparing her apartment for the construction crew and packing her bags. She was torn between bolting for a taxi or listening to more of Vincent’s excuses as he sat across from her.

Tiens,” Vincent said, “was it my fault Incandescent was a front and laundered money for gun runners?”

“Vincent, the courts see it differently,” Aimée said, wishing he would accept the facts. But Vincent demanded control. Total control. Didn’t they all? “E-mail and downloaded documents constitute judicial evidence. We have to turn over your Opera marketing campaign file for the domestic and Russian tour.”

“But my Opera marketing campaign doesn’t relate to them. I refuse to let this investigation tarnish my firm’s reputation.”

She mustered a small smile. After all, he was a paying client. “My connection at the Judiciare says a subpoena’s imminent,” she said. “Count on it. It would be better to give them your hard drive voluntarily.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d regretted her best friend Martine’s referral. Martine and Vincent were partners in Diva, a new magazine. Martine, former Madame Figaro editor, savvy and connected, did the work and Vincent was the financial backer. Martine had been crazed, getting ready for the launch this week.

The woman next to them ground out her cigarette. She drummed her long purple fingernails on the table, then lit another and set it in the ashtray.

Aimée recognized the nail color—Violet Vamp, advertised as urban armor for girls on the go—as one she’d been meaning to buy herself. She tried to ignore the curling smoke. She’d quit smoking four days ago.

Again.

Aimée’s chipped nails, Gigabyte Green, needed a manicure. At least her sun-streaked hair and tan, from a week in Sardinia, helped her fit in with the sophisticated crowd.

Had everyone found the same boutique on rue Charonne? And coughed up the equivalent of the boutique’s rent for the supposed “one-of-a-kind” clinging side-buttoned dress with matching jacket? Aimée had only been able to afford the jacket with mahjong buttons, unlike her neighbor who wore the knockout matching sheath as well.

Scents of fresh basil and roasted garlic drifted from the next table. When Aimée looked over again, the woman had propped her menu against an ashtray and disappeared.

Laughter erupted from the bar. Nearby, chairs scraped over the floor tiles. Time to work out this agreement, smooth Vincent’s feathers, and get him to cooperate, Aimée concluded. Then she could leave.

“Dragging in my firm will give rise to rumors,” said Vincent. “Damaging rumors.”

Mentally, she agreed. Why be an appetizer served up before the main course in a foreign arms investigation? But once la Procuratrice got something on her court docket, it stayed there.

“Vincent, be calm. We hand over the hard drive. . . . ”

“I’m paid to deal with my client’s information,” he interrupted. “Not you. Not the Judiciare. They have no right to see my records or client database.”

She wanted to deflect his anger, focus on the ongoing computer security issues. “Here’s good news. We set up new fire-walls so Hacktivistes pose no threat to Populax,” she said, pouring sparkling Badoit mineral water into his glass. He worried about hackers constantly.

Читать дальше

Шрифт:

Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «Murder in the Bastille»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «Murder in the Bastille» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё не прочитанные произведения.


Отзывы о книге «Murder in the Bastille»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «Murder in the Bastille» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.