The Judge’s List
- Автор: Гришэм Джон
- Серия: Lacy Stoltz #2
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Doubleday/Random House
- ISBN: 978-0-385-54602-7
- Жанр: Триллеры
Электронная книга - «The Judge’s List». Краткое содержание книги:
Then she meets a mysterious woman who is so frightened she uses a number of aliases. Jeri Crosby’s father was murdered twenty years earlier in a case that remains unsolved and that has grown stone cold. But Jeri has a suspect whom she has become obsessed with and has stalked for two decades. Along the way, she has discovered other victims.
Suspicions are easy enough, but proof seems impossible. The man is brilliant, patient, and always one step ahead of law enforcement. He is the most cunning of all serial killers. He knows forensics, police procedure, and most important: he knows the law.
He is a judge, in Florida — under Lacy’s jurisdiction.
He has a list, with the names of his victims and targets, all unsuspecting people unlucky enough to have crossed his path and wronged him in some way. How can Lacy pursue him, without becoming the next name on his list?
The Judge’s List is by any measure John Grisham’s most surprising, chilling novel yet.
Jeri walked to her kitchen and took a diet soda from the fridge. She popped the top, took a drink, and returned to the sofa and her laptop. She wrote: Okay, I’m in. Send what you have. Thanks.
My pleasure. In fifteen minutes.
Driving along the Gulf Coast on Interstate 10, Mobile was only an hour from Biloxi, but the two towns were in different states, different worlds. Mobile’s Press-Register had few readers next door, and Biloxi’s Sun Herald had even fewer subscribers in Alabama.
Jeri was not surprised that the Mobile press had not covered a double murder sixty miles away. She opened her laptop, turned on her security VPN, and began searching. On Saturday, October 19, the front page of the Sun Herald was covered with breaking news of the twin homicides. Mike Dunwoody was a well-known builder around Biloxi and along the Gulf Coast. There was a photo of Mike taken from his company’s website. He left behind his wife, Marsha, two children, and three grandchildren. His funeral arrangements were incomplete when the story was published.
Of Lanny Verno, much less was known. He lived in a trailer park somewhere near Biloxi. A neighbor said he had been there for a couple years. His live-in girlfriend came and went. One of his employees said Lanny was from somewhere in Georgia but had lived all over the place.
In the days that followed, the Sun Herald worked hard to keep the story fresh. The police were incredibly quiet and offered almost nothing. No one in the Dunwoody family would venture a word. The funeral was at a large church and drew a crowd. Reporters were kept away by deputies, at the request of the family. A distant cousin of Verno’s showed up to reluctantly claim the body and take it back to Georgia. He cursed a reporter. A week after the murders, Sheriff Black held a press conference and divulged absolutely nothing new. A reporter asked if any portable phones were retrieved from the bodies, and this drew a firm “No comment.”
“But isn’t it true that two cell phones were recovered from a postal box in the town of Neely?”
The sheriff looked like someone had just revealed the killer’s name, but managed to recover with a stern “No comment.”
Virtually every other question was met with the same response.
The lack of cooperation by the sheriff fueled gossip that something big was coming down, that perhaps they were so tight-lipped because they were closing in on the killer and didn’t want to spook him.
Nothing happened, though, and the days dragged into weeks and months. The Dunwoody family posted a reward of $25,000 for any information about the murders. This attracted a rash of calls from nuts who knew nothing.
The Verno family was never heard from.
At midnight, Jeri was drinking strong coffee and preparing for another sleepless night at the computer. KL sent his summary along with a copy of the official violent crime report the Mississippi state police had filed with the FBI.
She had been down this road many times and did not look forward to opening another file.
12
BJC was governed by a five-person Board of Directors, all retired judges and lawyers who had found favor, or something along those lines, with the Governor. The big donors and heavy hitters were awarded appointments far more prestigious than BJC — college boards and gaming commissions and such, gigs with nice budgets and perks that allowed the chosen ones to travel and rub elbows with the powerful; whereas BJC board members got meals, rooms, and fifty cents a mile. They met six times a year — three in Tallahassee and three in Fort Lauderdale — to review cases, hold hearings, and occasionally reprimand judges. Removal from office was rare. Since the BJC’s creation in 1968, only three judges had been kicked off the bench.
Four of the five board members gathered late Monday morning for a scheduled meeting. The fifth seat was vacant and the Governor was too busy to fill it. His last two invitations had been declined by his chosen appointees, so he said screw it. Meetings were held in a borrowed conference room at the Supreme Court because the BJC suite was too depressing to take over for the day.
The first item on their agenda was a ten o’clock appointment with the director, a private, one-hour recap of the agency’s caseload, finances, personnel, and so on. It had become an unpleasant ritual because Charlotte Baskin had one foot out the door and everyone knew it.
After going through the motions with her, the members were scheduled to take up the docket of pending cases.
Lacy was thankful she had nothing on the docket and would not appear before the board. Her Monday began like most others and required the usual pep talk to herself about hustling to the office and, as the senior investigator, arriving with lots of smiles and encouragement and excitement about serving the taxpayers. But the pep talk didn’t work, primarily because she was still mentally at the beach and by the pool. She and Allie had enjoyed three long lunches, with wine, and plenty of naps and sex and long walks along the water’s edge. At some point they had agreed that they should forget the future for the time being and simply live in the moment. Worry about the important stuff later.
Once she was away from him, though, she began to ask herself the question that had nagged her since Friday: If he gave me a ring, what would I do with it?
The answer was elusive.
At 9:48 another email arrived, again from Jeri. There had been at least five over the weekend, all ignored until now. Lacy had put off the difficult conversation long enough. She had learned long ago that procrastination only made the task more unpleasant. On her cell phone, she punched one number. No answer. No voicemail. She tried another one. Same result. She was quickly losing patience with the cloak-and-dagger as she punched the last number she had for Jeri.
“Hi, Lacy,” came the pleasant but tired voice. “Where have you been?”
And how is that any of your business? She swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and replied, “Good morning, Jeri. I trust this line is secure.”
“Of course. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Yes. You’ve called and emailed all weekend, I see.”
“Yes, we need to talk, Lacy.”
“We’re talking now, on Monday. I thought I explained to you that I do not work on weekends and I asked you not to call or email me. Right?”
“Yes, you’re right, and I’m sorry, but this is really important.”
“I know it is, Jeri, and I have some bad news. I met again with my boss and presented the allegations, and she was adamant. We will not get involved in a murder investigation. Period. As I have already told you several times, we are not equipped or trained for that kind of work.”
A pause. One that would be brief because, Lacy knew Jeri was not accustomed to taking no. Then she said, “But I have the right to file a complaint. I’ve memorized the statute. I can do so anonymously. And by law the BJC is required to spend forty-five days assessing the allegations. Right, Lacy?”
“Yes, that’s the statute.”
“Then I’ll file a complaint.”
“And my boss says we will immediately refer it to the state police for investigation.”
Lacy waited for a sharp rebuke, one that Jeri had no doubt worked on. She waited and waited and finally realized the call was over. Jeri had abruptly ended it and walked away.