Siberian Light

Zusatztext A savage triple murder in a small Siberian town. A man and a woman thrown together in the crime's brutal aftermath. A shattering secret explodes on the world's last frontier.... "White creates a psychological setting that is as lurking and dark as anything conjured up by John LeCarre." --The Atlanta Journal and Constitution "Great writing.  .  .wonderful reading." --Nelson DeMille "A well-thought-out tale of intrigue! love and--finally--hope." --The New York Times Book Review Informationen zum Autor Robin White has been an oil-well roughneck! oil-well-logging engineer! science writer! community energy planner! and an architect by vocation! an instrument-rated pilot by avocation.  He has lived all over the United States and in Europe! including Russia and Siberia.  He now lives near Monterey! California! with his wife. Here it comes.  There.  Now.  Hold it. Gregori Nowek felt the violin take over and sing with its own voice as the last notes of the Khachaturian adagio radiated from his fingers and melted into the kitchen walls.  Water trembled in a glass as he drew the bow.  Look up and see Nina's photograph on the wall.  Admit it: it wasn't just a picture.  It was a shrine. Half the bow is gone.  The E flat note is endless.  He's not even sure he's making it.  The sound creates itself.  It resonates everywhere.  It fills his ears.  But not his eyes. The photo.  Nina sits surrounded by sunflowers, their radiant heads bowed low with late summer fullness.  They seem interested in what she's about to say.  She smiles, one hand to sweep back an unruly lock of hair.  Nina, his wife, so he ought to know.   Wait! Let me straighten this first!   But there's nothing. The note nears its end.  It's 1997 and Nina's three years dead.  Nowek closed his eyes and pressed the violin to his cheek.  The polished wood tickles his sparse beard.  There.  Ready?  End it.  Now. The E flat echoed through him for a few seconds and then faded.  The adagio from the great Gayne   ballet had been Nina's favorite short piece.  He'd played it well.  Not perfectly. Long ago his teacher cautioned that striving for perfection was the surest way to kill beauty.  In real beauty there is always something wrong.  Thus, he used to say to Nowek, it can be proven that life in Russia is more beautiful than any other place. His father had a different view.  He'd said that life is different, but the violin never betrays you.  The more you give to it, the more it gives back.  He also told Nowek that making your living grinding horsehair on stretched gut demanded an excellent ear and a highly developed sense of the absurd. It wasn't so different being mayor of Markovo. As he snapped the velvet-lined case on the instrument, the telephone hanging on the kitchen wall jangled. He picked it up.   "Ya sluchayu." "Grisha!"  It was Arkady Volsky, the presidential representative down in Irkutsk.  He'd once been a coal miner.  He still shouted as though yelling "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" down an open shaft.  As Moscow's official watchdog for the state of Irkutsk, a loud voice still came in handy.  "I'm interrupting you?" "No."  He looked at his watch.  Nearly eight.  "Not now.  What is it, Arkasha?  My driver will be here any second." "That's good because I need you to go somewhere this morning.  You've heard about Andrei Ryzkhov?" "What about him?" "He's dead.  Murdered.  It happened last night.  There's still some confusion." "Over whether he's dead?" Mafiyas, thought Nowek. "Funny.  Two of your militia were also killed." Two more.  He didn't have any militia to spare.  Finding men willing to work for rubles was hard.  Finding men willing to risk their lives for them was impossible.  "What happened?" "I'm working from a very sket...

Product details

• Authors: Robin White
• Publisher: Dell Publishing Inc.
• Languages: English
• Product format: Paperback / Softback
• Released: 27.11.1998
• EAN: 9780440224600
• ISBN: 978-0-440-22460-0
• Subject: Fiction > Narrative literature