A Cold Treachery
(Sprache: Englisch)
Inspektor Rutledge muss in den Norden Englands, um einen rätselhaften Mordfall zu klären: In einem abgelegenen Farmhaus wurde die Elcott-Familie am Küchentisch umgebracht. Nur ein Junge namens Josh scheint überlebt zu haben, doch er ist verschwunden. Nichts...
Leider schon ausverkauft
versandkostenfrei
Buch (Kartoniert)
7.90 €
Produktdetails
Produktinformationen zu „A Cold Treachery “
Inspektor Rutledge muss in den Norden Englands, um einen rätselhaften Mordfall zu klären: In einem abgelegenen Farmhaus wurde die Elcott-Familie am Küchentisch umgebracht. Nur ein Junge namens Josh scheint überlebt zu haben, doch er ist verschwunden. Nichts deutet auf einen Raubüberfall hin, denn es sind keinerlei Kampfspuren zu finden.
Klappentext zu „A Cold Treachery “
Stunning . . . the tragic sweep of Todd s historical mysteries grows more expansive with each novel. The New York Times Book ReviewCalled out into the teeth of a violent blizzard, Inspector Ian Rutledge faces one of the most savage murders he s ever encountered. He might have expected such unspeakable carnage on the World War I battlefields where he d lost much of his soul and his sanity but not in an otherwise peaceful farm kitchen in remote Urskdale. Someone has murdered the Elcott family without the least sign of struggle. But when the victims are tallied, the local police are in for another shock: One child is missing. Now the Inspector must race to save a young boy before he s silenced by the merciless elements or the even colder hands of the killer who hides in the blinding snow.
Praise for A Cold Treachery
Todd s Ian Rutledge mysteries are among the most intelligent and affecting being written these days. Washington Post Book World
Brilliant. Chicago Tribune
Traditional mystery lovers who prefer their whodunits enriched with psychological insight will heartily embrace A Cold Treachery. . . . A superb effort. Publishers Weekly (starred review)
Brilliantly conceived and elegantly executed. Strand magazine
Lese-Probe zu „A Cold Treachery “
CHAPTER ONEThe North of England
December 1919
He ran through the snow, face into the swirling wind, feet pounding deep trenches into the accumulating drifts. Rocks, their shapes no longer familiar under the soft white blanket, sent him sprawling, and he dragged himself up again, white now where the snow clung, and almost invisible in the darkness. He had no idea what direction he had taken, enveloped by unreasoning panic and hardly able to breathe for the pain inside him. All he could hear was the voice in his head, shouting at him--
"You will hang for this, see if you don't. It's my revenge, and you'll think about that when the rope goes round your neck and the black hood comes down and there's no one to save you--"
The sound of the shot was so loud it had shocked him, and he couldn't remember whether he had slammed the door behind him or left it standing wide.
He could still smell the blood--so much of it!--choking in the back of his throat like feathers thrown on a fire. He could feel the terror, a snake that coiled and writhed in his stomach, making him ill, and the drumming wild in his head.
They would catch him. And then they'd hang him. There was nothing he could do to prevent it. Unless he died in the snow, and was buried by it until the spring. He'd seen the frozen body of a dead lamb once, stiff and hard, half rotted and sad. The ravens had been at it. He hated ravens.
Half the countryside knew he'd been a troublemaker since the autumn. Restless--unhappy--growing out of himself and his clothes. They'd look at what lay in that bloody room, and they'd hate him.
He was crying now, tears scalding on cold skin, and the voice was so loud it seemed to be following him, and he ran harder, his breath gusting in front of his face, arms pumping, pushing his way through the snow until his muscles burned.
"You'll hang for this--see if you don't----!"
He would rather die in the snow of cold and exhaustion than with a rope around his neck.
... mehr
He'd rather run until his heart burst than drop through the hangman's door and feel his throat close off. Even with the ravens eating him, the snow was cleaner. . . .
"You'll hang for this--see if you don't----!
That's my revenge . . . my revenge . . . my revenge. . . ."
CHAPTER TWO
Paul Elcott stood in the kitchen beside Sergeant Miller, his face pale, his hand shaking as he unconsciously brushed the back of it across his mouth for the third time.
"They're dead, aren't they? I haven't touched them--I couldn't--Look, can we step outside, man, I'm going to be sick, else!"
Miller, who had come from a butcher's family, said stolidly, "Yes, all right. The doctor's on his way, but there's nothing he can do for them." Except pronounce them dead, he added to himself. Poor souls. What the devil had happened here? "We might as well wait in the barn, then, until he's finished."
Elcott stumbled out the door. He made his way to the barn, where he was violently sick in one of the empty horse stalls. Afterward he felt no better. He could still see the kitchen floor--still smell the sickening odor of blood--
And the eyes--half closed--staring at nothing the living could see.
Had Gerald looked at Hell? He'd said the trenches were worse--
He sat down on a bale of hay, and dropped his head in his hands, trying to regulate his breathing and hold on to his senses. He should have sent the sergeant back alone. He'd been mad to think he could face that slaughter again.
After a while, Sergeant Miller came across to the barn, and the doctor was with him, carrying a lantern. Elcott lifted his head to nod at Dr. Jarvis. He cleared his throat and said, "They didn't suffer, did they? I mean--no one lingered--"
"No. I don't believe they did," the do
"You'll hang for this--see if you don't----!
That's my revenge . . . my revenge . . . my revenge. . . ."
CHAPTER TWO
Paul Elcott stood in the kitchen beside Sergeant Miller, his face pale, his hand shaking as he unconsciously brushed the back of it across his mouth for the third time.
"They're dead, aren't they? I haven't touched them--I couldn't--Look, can we step outside, man, I'm going to be sick, else!"
Miller, who had come from a butcher's family, said stolidly, "Yes, all right. The doctor's on his way, but there's nothing he can do for them." Except pronounce them dead, he added to himself. Poor souls. What the devil had happened here? "We might as well wait in the barn, then, until he's finished."
Elcott stumbled out the door. He made his way to the barn, where he was violently sick in one of the empty horse stalls. Afterward he felt no better. He could still see the kitchen floor--still smell the sickening odor of blood--
And the eyes--half closed--staring at nothing the living could see.
Had Gerald looked at Hell? He'd said the trenches were worse--
He sat down on a bale of hay, and dropped his head in his hands, trying to regulate his breathing and hold on to his senses. He should have sent the sergeant back alone. He'd been mad to think he could face that slaughter again.
After a while, Sergeant Miller came across to the barn, and the doctor was with him, carrying a lantern. Elcott lifted his head to nod at Dr. Jarvis. He cleared his throat and said, "They didn't suffer, did they? I mean--no one lingered--"
"No. I don't believe they did," the do
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Charles Todd
CHARLES TODD is the author of The Murder Stone, A Fearsome Doubt, Watchers of Time, Legacy of the Dead, A Test of Wills, Wings of Fire, and Search the Dark. He lives on the East Coast, where he is at work on the next novel in the Inspector Ian Rutledge series.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Charles Todd
- 2005, 416 Seiten, Maße: 10,5 x 17,4 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Bantam Books
- ISBN-10: 0553586610
- ISBN-13: 9780553586619
Sprache:
Englisch
Kommentar zu "A Cold Treachery"
0 Gebrauchte Artikel zu „A Cold Treachery“
Zustand | Preis | Porto | Zahlung | Verkäufer | Rating |
---|
Schreiben Sie einen Kommentar zu "A Cold Treachery".
Kommentar verfassen