The Cold Moon: A Lincoln Rhyme Novel

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		The Cold Moon: A Lincoln Rhyme Novel
		The Cold Moon: A Lincoln Rhyme Novel

基本信息·出版社：Pocket Star
·页码：656 页
·出版日期：2007年05月
·ISBN：0743491572
·International Standard Book Number：0743491572
·条形码：9780743491570
·EAN：9780743491570
·装帧：平装
·正文语种：英语
·丛书名：Lincoln Rhyme

内容简介 在线阅读本书

On a frigid December night, an eerie pattern emerges from two equally brutal murder scenes, where a killer's calling card is a moon-faced clock that seemingly ticked away the victims' last moments. From his wheelchair, criminologist Lincoln Rhyme tracks the Watchmaker, a time-obsessed genius. With every passing second, the Watchmaker is moving with razor-sharp precision to his next act of perfectly orchestrated violence -- and Rhyme can't afford to have his trusted partner, Amelia Sachs, distracted by a daunting homicide case of her own. Up against a brilliant madman, Rhyme and Sachs are locked in a blood-chilling race with their deadliest enemy: time itself....
文摘 Chapter One

"How long did it take them to die?"

The man this question was posed to didn't seem to hear it. He looked in the rearview mirror again and concentrated on his driving. The hour was just past midnight and the streets in lower Manhattan were icy. A cold front had swept the sky clear and turned an earlier snow to slick glaze on the asphalt and concrete. The two men were in the rattling Band-Aid-mobile, as Clever Vincent had dubbed the tan SUV. It was a few years old; the brakes needed servicing and the tires replacing. But taking a stolen vehicle in for work would not be a wise idea, especially since two of its recent passengers were now murder victims.

The driver -- a lean man in his fifties, with trim black hair -- made a careful turn down a side street and continued his journey, never speeding, making precise turns, perfectly centered in his lane. He'd drive the same whether the streets were slippery or dry, whether the vehicle had just been involved in murder or not.

Careful, meticulous.

How long did it take?

Big Vincent -- Vincent with long, sausage fingers, always damp, and a taut brown belt stretching the first hole -- shivered hard. He'd been waiting on the street corner after his night shift as a word-processing temp. It was bitterly cold but Vincent didn't like the lobby of his building. The light was greenish and the walls were covered with big mirrors in which he could see his oval body from all angles. So he'd stepped into the clear, cold December air and paced and ate a candy bar. Okay, two.

As Vincent was glancing up at the full moon, a shockingly white disk visible for a moment through a canyon of buildings, the Watchmaker reflected aloud, "How long did it take them to die? Interesting."

Vincent had known the Watchmaker -- whose real name was Gerald Duncan -- for only a short time but he'd learned that you asked the man questions at your own risk. Even a simple query could open the
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