By James Patterson
In the course of an intimate ceremonial dinner, a cat burglar breaks into the house of A-list actor Marcus Dowling. whilst his spouse walks in at the thief, the placement fast teeters uncontrolled, leaving an empty secure and a dull physique.
The similar evening, a lady and her baby baby are ruthlessly gunned down in an deserted storage. The killer hasn't left a shred of proof, apart from a foreboding and cryptic message: WCF, the letters written in blood-red letters.
With deranged killers at the unfastened Detective Lindsay Boxer calls at the Women's homicide membership to assist her cease the insane killers. yet anyone is leaking details to the press--details that purely these at the inside of may possibly understand. As allegations fly that Lindsay is the resource, she has to wonder--how a lot she will be able to belief her closest buddies?
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Extra info for The 9th Judgment (Women's Murder Club)
Jacobi and that i were shot in an alley no longer faraway from right here, and we either nearly died. I handed streets I’d labored as a uniformed cop, a firstclass pizzeria that I’d brought Joe to your time in the past, and a bar the place Conklin and that i occasionally got here to wind down after a double shift. I became onto Geary and drove previous Mel’s Drive-in, the place I used to hang around with Claire after we have been either novices, the 2 folks guffawing away our frustration at being women in a man’s global. I felt tears collecting in my eyes, no longer from the hoops the killer was once making me bounce via yet from nostalgia, the aching stories of occasions with my sturdy and liked buddies, and from the sensation that i used to be vacationing candy scenes from my earlier for the final time. The disembodied voice of a guy who’d wasted 3 younger moms and their babies spoke once more. “Hang the telephone over the rearview replicate, lens pointing at you. ” i used to be at a stoplight on the intersection of Van Ness and Geary. once I hung the telephone at the replicate and seemed into the pea-sized camera’s eye, the Lipstick Killer acknowledged, “Take off your shirt, sweetmeat. ” “What’s this, now? ” “I advised you. No questions. ” I understood. He used to be checking me for a twine. First my handbag, then my jacket, my sneakers, and the briefcase. Now this. I took off my shirt. “Throw it out the window. ” I complied. none of the skeezy pedestrians regarded up. “Do an identical along with your skirt. ” “The mild is eco-friendly. ” “Pull over and park. That’s a sensible girl,” the killer stated. “Take off that skirt and toss it. And now your bra. ” I felt in poor health, yet I had no ideas. I unhooked my bra and dropped it out the window as directed. The killer whistled, a wolf name of appreciation, that sicko, and each a part of my psyche damage from the degradation. now not the least of which used to be that this murdering, child-killing girl hater had boxed me in and outmaneuvered the complete SFPD. not anyone knew the place i used to be. “Good lady, Lindsay. Very, first-class. Now, hold the telephone round your neck and let’s get going. the simplest is but to come back. ” bankruptcy sixty four I instructed THE previous Impala up and down winding roads, then onto Lombard, the main curvaceous highway of all, a vacationer magnet that rose upward, cresting at Hyde, giving me a billion-dollar view, reasons why San Francisco may be one of many seven wonders of the realm. I’ve noticeable this landscape repeatedly, yet this was once the 1st time I’d didn't be dazzled through the complete expansive sight of San Francisco Bay, Alcatraz, Angel Island—and then, in a flash, i used to be hurtling down the steep, twisting plunge of Lombard road. there have been extra instructions in my ear, statement approximately how cool it felt to permit me do the riding whereas he obtained to sightsee and consider his funds. in the meantime i used to be preventing at each pass road, hunching my shoulders, praying that nobody might detect a bare-breasted girl heading down the most scenic drives within the country. I checked my mirrors and swiveled my head at intersections, trying to find Jacobi, Conklin, Chi, somebody. I’ll admit it.