En savoir plus
Zusatztext "Enjoyable...This is a good entry point for newcomers to this long-running series."-- Publishers Weekly Informationen zum Autor Stuart Woods Klappentext In the latest thriller from perennial fan favorite Stuart Woods, Stone Barrington faces down a persistent rival. Stone Barrington is nearing his New York City abode when he stumbles into trouble. As it turns out, a new client is in danger-and with both business and the safety of the city at stake, Stone has no choice but to get involved. It's soon clear that a complicated scheme is being hatched, and the source remains enigmatic…but it's only a matter of time before he and Stone must each show their hands. From ritzy Manhattan high-rises to the lush serenity of the Connecticut countryside, the game of cat-and-mouse can end with only one victor. Story Locale: New York City, Connecticut Series Overview: A New York City cop turned rainmaker for a white-shoe Manhattan law firm, Stone Barrington handles the most sensitive cases of upper-crust intrigue and government intelligence. Leseprobe ONE Stone Barrington was headed down Second Avenue in the heaviest rain he could remember. Fortunately, he was in a taxi. He was also about a third of a block from his street. The traffic on the cross street had come to a complete halt, and thus, so had Second Avenue, and Stone had an appointment with a new client in five minutes. "I think I'd better get out here," he said to the driver. "What's that? I can't hear you." The rain was hammering on the cab's roof, making a horrific noise. "I'm going to get out!" Stone shouted, shoving some money through the plexiglass screen. "You're gonna drown!" the driver shouted. "I have an umbrella!" Stone shouted back, opening the rear door. He stuck the umbrella out first and got it open, then he stepped into the street and kicked the door shut behind him. He was ankle deep in water, but he made it to the sidewalk, which was marginally better. As he rounded the corner, the traffic on the cross street suddenly began to move, and turning onto his street, he looked up the block and saw a man kicking something on the sidewalk. His vision was not helped by the rain, but it looked as though a dog was being abused. Stone simultaneously started to trot and close his umbrella, wrapping the tab around it and securing it, while the rain began drumming on his hat. Then he realized that the lump on the sidewalk was a man. "Hey!" Stone shouted at the kicker. The man looked up at him; he was wearing a ski mask. Stone ran at him-giving little thought to the size of the man, which was large-and drew back the umbrella. He swung at the man, connecting with his left arm, near the shoulder, and heard a shout of pain. The umbrella was golf-sized and had a thick wooden shaft, topped by a heavy, brierwood curved handle. Stone swung again, aiming at the head. The handle caught the man on the chin, but not solidly, since he was now withdrawing. Stone thought of pursuing him, but the man on the ground let out a loud groan, gaining Stone's attention. He opened the umbrella and held it over the victim. "Can you hear me?" Stone shouted. "Yes," the man said, nodding. Blood was being washed off his face by the rain. "If I help you, can you get up?" "Maybe." Stone held out his left hand, and the man grabbed it and struggled to his feet. "Hold on to my arm," Stone said. "It's just a few doors." They shuffled up the street together, taking small steps. At the door, Stone found he couldn't ring the bell without letting go of the umbrella, so that was what he did. He leaned on the bell and heard a continuous ringing. A moment later, Joan Robertson, his secretary, opened the door, sized up the situation, and took the man off Stone's hands. He grabbed the umbrella, closed it, and ste...
