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.
“No. Look, my ankles are breaking and my legs are numb. Cut me some slack here so we can talk, okay?”
“No. And just so you’ll know, there’s only one door over there and it’s locked. This little cabin is deep in the woods, far from anyone else, so if you feel like it you can scream until you’re hoarse. If you manage to get outside, good luck. Watch out for rattlesnakes, copperheads, bears, and coyotes, not to mention some heavily armed Bubbas who don’t care for people of color.”
“And I’m supposed to feel safer in here with you?”
“You have no phone, wallet, money, or shoes. I left your pistol in your hotel room, but I have two hidden just over there. I prefer not to use them.”
“Please don’t.”
“How much does Lacy know?”
Jeri stared at the fire and tried to think clearly. If she told the truth, she might endanger Lacy. But, if she told the truth and convinced him that Lacy, and now the FBI, knew everything, he might indeed disappear. He had the means, the money, the contacts, the brains to vanish.
He asked slowly, “How much does Lacy know?”
“She knows what I’ve told her about Verno, Dunwoody, and Kronke. Beyond that, I have no idea.”
“That’s a lie. You obviously know about your own father, Eileen, Danny Cleveland. And you expect me to believe you haven’t told Lacy.”
“I can’t prove them.”
“You can’t prove anything. Nobody can!”
He reached and grabbed one strand of rope and quickly looped it around her neck. He held both ends with his hands and applied a little pressure. Jeri recoiled but couldn’t get away. He was practically on top of her, his face two feet from hers.
He hissed, “Listen to me. I want them in order, one name after the other, beginning with your father.”
“Please get off me.”
He pulled tighter. “Don’t make me.”
“Okay, okay. My father was not the first, was he?”
“No.”
“Thad Leawood was the first, then my father.” She closed her eyes and began sobbing, loud, anguished, uncontrolled. He backed away and let the rope dangle from her neck. She buried her face in her hands and bawled until she finally caught her breath. “I hate you,” she mumbled. “You have no idea.”
“Who was next?”
She wiped her face with her forearm and closed her eyes. “Ashley Barasso, 1996.”
“I didn’t kill Ashley.”
“That’s hard to believe. Same rope, same knot, the double clove hitch you probably learned in scouts, right Bannick? Did Thad Leawood teach you the double clove hitch?”
“I didn’t kill Ashley.”
“I’m in no position to argue with you.”
“And you missed one.”
“Good.”
He stood and walked to the fireplace where he tossed in some more files. When he turned his back, she yanked the rope off her neck and flung it across the room. He picked it up and returned to the stool in front of her, fiddling with the rope.
“Go on,” he said. “Who was next?”
“Who did I miss?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“Good point. I don’t care anymore, Bannick.”
“Go on.”
“Eileen Nickleberry, 1998.”
“How’d you find her?”
“By digging through your past, same for all of them. A victim is found strangled with the same rope, tied tight with a weird knot, and eventually the information gets into the FBI clearinghouse on violent crime. I know how to access it. I have some contacts. I’ve done it for twenty years, Bannick, and I’ve learned a lot. With a name, I start the research, most of which leads to dead ends. But persistence pays off.”
“I can’t believe you found me.”
“Am I talking enough?”
“Go on. Next?”
“You took off a few years, a little hiatus, not unusual in your sick world, and tried to go straight. Couldn’t do it. Danny Cleveland was found strangled in his home in Little Rock in 2009.”
“He had it coming.”
“Of course he did. Exposing corruption by good reporting should always be a capital offense. Got him. Another notch in the old belt.”
“Go on. Next.”
“Two years ago, Perry Kronke was found dead in his boat, roasting in the hot summer sun, blood everywhere. He pissed you off when you were twenty-four and he didn’t offer you a job, like every other summer clerk. Another capital offense.”
“You missed another.”
“Forgive me.”
“Go on.”
“Verno and Dunwoody last year in Biloxi. Verno beat you in court when you were a hotshot young lawyer, so of course he deserved to die. Dunwoody showed up at the wrong time. No remorse for his family? Wife, three kids, three grandkids, a wonderful man with lots of friends. Nothing whatsoever, Bannick?”
“Anybody else?”
“Well, that story in the Ledger included Mal Schnetzer, rather recent vintage. Killed only a week ago somewhere near Houston. Seems as though your paths crossed, same as all your victims. I haven’t had time to look at the Schnetzer murder. You’re killing so fast these days that I can’t keep up.” She paused and looked at him. He was listening to her, as if amused.
Keep talking, she told herself. “Why is it, Bannick, that serial killers often get busy at the end? Do you read about them, the others? Are you ever curious about how they operate? Ever pick up pointers or strategies from their stories, most written after they’re caught or dead, I might add. Well, I’ve read them all, and often, but certainly not always because God knows there’s no real method to this madness, they feel trapped and lash out by speeding up. Kronke, then Verno and Dunwoody, now Schnetzer. That’s four in just two years.”
“Just three in my book.”
“Of course. Dunwoody doesn’t count because he never insulted you, or pulled a gun, or embarrassed you in class.”
“Shut up.”
“You told me to keep talking.”
“Now I’m telling you to shut up.”
“I don’t want to, Bannick. I’ve lived in your miserable life for so long and I never dreamed I would one day be able to have a chat like this and tell you what a miserable scumbag I think you are. You’re a coward. Your crimes took no courage.”
“You said that in one of your silly poems.”
“I thought they were rather clever.”
“And quite stupid. Why did you bother with them?”
“Good question, Bannick. Not sure I have the answer. I just wanted to lash out myself, I guess. Maybe as a way to torment you. I want you to suffer. And now that the end is near I can’t believe that it’s you who’s on the run, hiding here in the woods, planning to kill one last time. Your game is over, Bannick; so is your life. Why don’t you surrender like a man and take your punishment?”
“I said shut up.”
“There are so many things I want to say.”
“Don’t say them. I’m tired of your voice. If you want to talk next week, then shut up now.”
He abruptly stood, walked to her, sat on the stool, again with their knees almost touching. She pulled back as far as possible, certain he was about to strike. He reached for his pocket and pulled out two burner phones. “I’m going to get Lacy. I want her here with you. We’ll have us a nice long conversation and I’ll find out how much she knows.”
“Leave her alone. She’s done nothing but her job.”
“Oh really? She’s called in the FBI.”
“Leave her alone. Blame me, not her. She had never heard of you until I entered her life.”
He showed her both phones and said, “These are yours. Not sure which one will work, but I want you to call Lacy and arrange a meeting. Tell her you have a piece of evidence that will prove beyond all doubt that I’m the killer, but you can’t discuss it over the phone. It’s urgent and she must meet with you now.”