Chapters (118)
- Title Page
- Welcome
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- THE POISONWOOD TREE
- Chapter 1
- THE QUEUE
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Robert Moreno Homicide
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- CHAMELEONS
- 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
- SLICE
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- THE MILLION-DOLLAR BULLET
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Robert Moreno Homicide
- 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
- SMOKE
- 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
- MESSAGES
- Chapter 93
- Chapter 94
- Chapter 95
- Chapter 96
- Chapter 97
- Chapter 98
- WHEN YOU MOVE…
- Chapter 99
- The Recipes of Jacob Swann
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Jeffery Deaver
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
- Contents
- Copyright
“Yes, yes, that is true. I didn’t want to come in to work, though. I would rather have stayed on the missing student case but I need the money…Now, I don’t have much time. I bought a phone card, ten minutes. Let me explain about the Moreno case and my involvement. You see, I have been on the waiting list to move to our Central Detective Unit for some time. It’s always been my goal to be a detective. Well, last week a supervisor told me that I had been selected for a junior position at CDU. And, far more surprising, that I would be given a case to supervise—the Moreno homicide. I had believed it would be a year or more before I would even be considered for the unit. And to be given a case myself? That was unthinkable. But I was, naturally, delighted.
“Then I was told I’d been selected because the case was merely administrative at that point. A cartel was behind the death—as I told you before. Probably from Señor Moreno’s home country of Venezuela. Certainly the sniper had already left the country, returned to Caracas. I was to gather the evidence, take some statements at the inn where Señor Moreno died and send the file to the Venezuelan national police. I would be the liaison if they wished to come to Nassau to investigate further. Then I was to assist some senior detectives running the case of the other murder I mentioned.”
The prominent lawyer.
More clanging, shouting. What was it, a slot machine payoff?
There was a pause and then Poitier called to someone nearby. “No, no, they’re drunk. Just watch them. I’m busy. I must make this call. Escort them out if they get belligerent. Call Big Samuel.”
Back to Rhyme: “You are suspecting conspiracy at the top, dark intrigues, to quash the Moreno investigation. In a way, yes. First, we must ask, why would the cartels want to kill him? Señor Moreno was well liked in Latin America. The cartels are businessmen first. They would not want to alienate the people they need for workers and mules by killing a popular activist. My impression—from some research I have done—is that the cartels and Moreno tolerated each other.”
Rhyme told him, “Like I told you, we feel the same.”
The corporal paused. “Señor Moreno was very outspoken against America. And his Local Empowerment Movement, with its anti-U.S. bias, was growing in popularity. You know that?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And he had connections with organizations that had terrorist leanings. This is no surprise either, I’m sure.”
“We’re aware of that, as well.”
“Now, it occurred to me that perhaps—” His voice lowered. “—your government wished this man dead.”
Rhyme realized he’d been selling the corporal short.