Poyavlenie Anastasii Vol.., p.1

The People vs. Alex Cross: (Alex Cross 25), страница 1


The People vs. Alex Cross: (Alex Cross 25)

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The People vs. Alex Cross: (Alex Cross 25)


  About the Book

  About the Author

  Also by James Patterson


  Title Page





  Part One: Platinum Damages the Brain

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Part Two: A Killer’s Son

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  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

  Part Three: The Prosecution of Alex Cross

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  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

  Part Four: In Defense of Alex Cross

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  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

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Part Five: All Blondes must Die

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 106

  Chapter 107

  Chapter 108

  Chapter 109

  Chapter 110

  Chapter 111

  Chapter 112

  Chapter 113

  Chapter 114




  Alex Cross has never been on the wrong side of the law – until now. Charged with gunning down followers of his nemesis Gary Soneji in cold blood, Cross is being turned into the poster child for trigger-happy cops who think they’re above the law. Cross knows it was self-defence. But will a jury see it that way?


  As Cross fights for his freedom, his former partner John Sampson brings him a gruesome video tied to the mysterious disappearances of several young girls. Despite his suspension from the department, Cross can’t say no to Sampson. The illicit investigation leads them to the darkest corners of the Internet, where murder is just another form of entertainment.


  As the prosecution presents its case, and the nation watches, even those closest to Cross begin to doubt his innocence. If he can’t convince his own family, how can he hope to persuade a jury? Although he has everything on the line, Cross will do whatever it takes to stop a dangerous criminal … even if he can’t save himself.


  JAMES PATTERSON is one of the best-known and biggest-selling writers of all time. His books have sold in excess of 350 million copies worldwide. He is the author of some of the most popular series of the past two decades – the Alex Cross, Women’s Murder Club, Detective Michael Bennett and Private novels – and he has written many other number one bestsellers including romance novels and stand-alone thrillers.

  James is passionate about encouraging children to read. Inspired by his own son who was a reluctant reader, he also writes a range of books for young readers including the Middle School, I Funny, Treasure Hunters, House of Robots, Confessions, and Maximum Ride series. James has donated millions in grants to independent bookshops and has been the most borrowed author in UK libraries for the past ten years in a row. He lives in Florida with his wife and son.

  Also by James Patterson

  Have you read them all?


  Alex Cross is working on the high-profile disappearance of two rich kids. But is he facing someone much more dangerous than a callous kidnapper?


  Cross comes home to discover his niece Naomi is missing. And she’s not the only one. Finding the kidnapper won’t be easy, especially if he’s not working alone …


  A pair of ice-cold killers are picking off Washington’s rich and famous. And they have the ultimate target in their sights.


  An old enemy is back and wants revenge. Will Alex Cross escape unharmed, or will this be the final showdown?


  Alex Cross faces his most fearsome opponent yet. He calls himself Death. And there are three other ‘Horsemen’ who compete in his twisted game.


  After a series of fatal bank robberies, Cross must take the ultimate risk when faced with a criminal known as the Mastermind.


  As Alex Cross edges ever closer to the awful truth about the Mastermind, he comes dangerously close to defeat.


  Preparing to resign from the Washington police force, Alex Cross is looking forward to a peaceful life. But he can’t stay away for long …


  There is a mysterious new mobster in organised crime. The FBI are stumped. Luckily for them, they now have Alex Cross on their team.


  The stakes have never been higher as Cross pursues two old enemies in an explosive worldwide chase.


  Hollywood’s A-list are being violently killed, one-by-one. Only Alex Cross can put together the clues of this twisted case.


  Haunted by the murder of his wife thirteen years ago, Cross will stop at nothing to finally avenge her death.


  Alex Cross is starting to settle down – until he encounters a maniac killer who
likes an audience.


  When an old friend becomes the latest victim of the Tiger, Cross journeys to Africa to stop a terrifying and dangerous warlord.


  (with Richard DiLallo)

  In a family story recounted here by Alex Cross, his great-uncle Abraham faces persecution, murder and conspiracy in the era of the Ku Klux Klan.


  Investigating the violent murder of his niece Caroline, Alex Cross discovers an unimaginable secret that could rock the entire world.


  Alex Cross is planning his wedding to Bree, but his nemesis returns to exact revenge.


  The President’s children have been kidnapped, and DC is hit by a terrorist attack. Cross must make a desperate decision that goes against everything he believes in.


  Robbery, hostages, terrorism – will Alex Cross make it home in time for Christmas … alive?


  With his personal life in turmoil, Alex Cross can’t afford to let his guard down. Especially with three blood-thirsty killers on the rampage.


  When a dangerous enemy targets Cross and his family, Alex finds himself playing a whole new game of life and death.


  Cross’s family are missing, presumed dead. But Alex Cross will not give up hope. In a race against time, he must find his wife, children and grandmother – no matter what it takes.


  Returning to his North Carolina hometown for the first time in over three decades, Cross unearths a family secret that forces him to question everything he’s ever known.


  Cross steps in to investigate a wave of murders erupting across Washington, D.C. The victims have one thing in common – they are all criminals.

  A list of more titles by James Patterson can be found at the back of this book

  Why everyone loves

  James Patterson and Alex Cross

  ‘It’s no mystery why James Patterson is the world’s most popular thriller writer. Simply put: nobody does it better.’

  Jeffery Deaver

  ‘No one gets this big without amazing natural storytelling talent – which is what Jim has, in spades. The Alex Cross series proves it.’

  Lee Child

  ‘James Patterson is the gold standard by which all others are judged.’

  Steve Berry

  ‘Alex Cross is one of the best-written heroes in American fiction.’

  Lisa Scottoline

  ‘Twenty years after the first Alex Cross story, he has become one of the greatest fictional detectives of all time, a character for the ages.’

  Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child

  ‘Alex Cross is a legend.’

  Harlan Coben

  ‘Patterson boils a scene down to the single, telling detail, the element that defines a character or moves a plot along. It’s what fires off the movie projector in the reader’s mind.’

  Michael Connelly

  ‘James Patterson is The Boss. End of.’

  Ian Rankin

  For Carole—my baby sister, absolutely one of my three favorites, definitely the smartest Patterson




  FROM INSIDE A rambling white Colonial home on a shaded street that smelled of blooming wildflowers, a woman called in a pleasant Southern accent: “TW-Two? Where are you? Mama needs you to go to the store now.”

  There was a pause before she called again. “TW-Two? Deuce?”

  Timmy Walker Jr., TW-Two, also known as Deuce, was twelve and standing just inside the woods that adjoined his backyard.

  Go to the store? Deuce thought. He had better things to do than ride his bike all the way there and back for his mom. As a matter of fact, he had much better things to do.

  The back porch door opened with a creak.

  “Deuce,” his mother called. “C’mon, now. I’ll take you out for an ice cream sundae later?”

  That was tempting, but Deuce stuck to his plan and eased off on a familiar path that led downhill to an old logging road and a creek that meandered through the woods. It was late in the day. The light was slanted, coppery, and the air was still sticky and hot.

  Holding a beat-up old pair of binoculars his granddad had given him, Deuce thought: Hot and sticky. That’s good. Seems there’s way more activity when it’s all hot and sticky this time of day, getting on into night.

  Deuce looked down at his camouflage T-shirt and shorts and thought, I’m dressed perfect. Should be able to get real close, and I’ve got the right gear.

  Mosquitoes whined. He slapped at one that bit his ear, hearing the building thrum of cicadas in the trees and smelling smoke from a distant fire. He dug in his pocket and got out a cigarette he’d taken from his mom’s secret pack.

  He lit it, took a drag, and blew smoke at the mosquitoes. That helped.

  Still smoking, Deuce crossed the creek and kept on the logging trail, which paralleled the waterway for almost a mile before splitting off. He went left, then started uphill, pausing every few moments to listen. Nothing.

  Even so, the boy remained certain he’d see something good tonight. It was late Friday afternoon. Prime time. Late summer. Primer time. And you didn’t always have to hear them first. He’d learned that, hadn’t he?

  When Deuce neared the top of the rise, he put on a camouflage head net that almost matched the T-shirt and shorts. He eased slowly up onto the crest of the hill, peering through the tangle of vines and leaves in the last golden rays of day. Nothing.

  He took a step. Nothing. Another step.


  Deuce smiled, hunched over, and snuck forward and downhill toward a clearing at the end of a rutted dirt road. There were beer cans and wrappers strewn about, a brush pile, and, on the far side of the clearing, a lone blue Toyota Camry.

  The engine was off. The windows were down. No music was on. Deuce was sure he knew why the car was there. He lifted the binoculars and peered across the clearing into the Camry’s backseat, where a couple was writhing.

  Deuce saw the naked back of one of them. The girl!


  And blond! More perfect.

  She sat up suddenly; she was seventeen, eighteen—beautiful! Then another topless blonde, younger, very pretty, rose up beside the first one. They began to kiss and caress.


  THE TWELVE-YEAR-OLD THOUGHT he was going to have a heart attack, the scene made him so breathless. Shakily, Deuce lowered the binoculars, dug in his pocket, and came up with an iPhone 4 he’d bought used online. He found the camera icon and pressed it.

  This is going to be epic, Deuce thought. No one will ever forget this one.

  He took a soft step, and then another, which brought him right up to the clearing. He focused a moment on the passionate girls in the backseat of the car but did not raise his binoculars for a closer look.

  He was on a mission now. Deuce thumbed the camera mode to video and pressed Record.

  He stayed just inside the trees, in the shadows, and circled the clearing, going past the brush pile toward the Camry and coming up on it from behind and to its right. He imagined himself a panther and moved slow and careful until the car and the girls were down a bank and slightly below him, not twenty yards away.

  From that angle, he could see the girls were both completely naked. He was flustered, fascinated; part of him wanted to go even closer, right in the backseat if he could. But that wouldn’t get him anywhere, now would it?

  He had them framed perfectly. And the light wasn’t bad at all. He was sure this would be his best effort yet. Two blondes? I’ll be a hero!

  Deuce almost laughed out loud but became transfixed when one girl’s hand left the other one’s breasts and slid south toward—

  The boy heard the
grumble of an engine and looked around. It sounded like a vehicle was coming fast and heading toward the clearing. The girls heard it too and scrambled for their clothes.

  Are you kidding me? Deuce groaned.

  He heard a shriek. He looked back at their car. One of the girls was staring out the window at him.

  “There’s some pervo kid in camo out there!” she yelled. “He’s filming us!”

  Deuce freaked and ran. He bolted deeper into the woods and then arced back the way he’d come, jumping logs, dodging trees, and smiling like he’d just escaped some tower with a king’s jewel in his pocket.

  And in a way, he had, hadn’t he? He glanced at the phone gripped tightly in his hand as he continued to sprint back toward the trail. It wasn’t the epic video he’d hoped for, but it was still—

  Deuce heard a vehicle roar into the clearing and skid to a halt. One of the girls screamed.

  Deuce stopped and looked back. Sweat dripped down his face, and he strained to see the clearing through the thick foliage.

  The boy told himself to go, get home fast, upload the video to his computer, and spend the night reliving his victory before trying to figure out which website to sell it to. But his natural curiosity overwhelmed him, propelled him back toward the clearing’s edge.

  The sun was setting. Shadows were taking the opening in the woods. A white Ford utility van with a souped-up motor was idling next to the Camry, blocking Deuce’s view of the girls.

  He lifted his binoculars, saw the van’s windows were darkly tinted. A magnetic sign on the near side said DISH NETWORK.

  Dish? Out here? Wasn’t that like a—

  “No!” one of the girls shouted from the other side of the van. “Please! Don’t do this! Help! Kid! Help us, kid!”

  Deuce realized she was screaming for him and didn’t know what to do.

  Another scream followed, louder, terror-stricken. One of the girls was sobbing, blubbering, begging for mercy.

  Deuce began to tremble with fear. A voice in his head yelled, Run!

  A car door slammed. The van door slid shut, muffling the girls’ cries.

  I’m probably wrong for taking the video, Deuce thought, but this is seriously messed up. I’ve got to do something.

  He dug furiously in his pocket, came up with a little magnetic doubling lens that he fitted to his phone’s camera lens. He slid the mode to photo for better resolution and zoomed in on the van’s rear license plate, lit by its parking lights, some sixty yards away.

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