"JONES, J.V. - THE BARBED COIL" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jones J. V)

a mini-incendiary device. Police speculate they broke into the
security deposit vault after this attempt failed. As yet there are no
leads.

This is a very professional job, said Lt. Janile Peralla of the
Special Investigation Division. These men knew what they were doing.
They knew which lines to cut, they knew where all the alarm devices
were situated. They came fully equipped.

George Bonnaheim, president of the bank, has offered a $10,000 reward
for tips leading to the recovery of the security deposit boxes. These
thieves have stolen fragments of people's lives, he said. There's no
telling what is in those boxes? (See BOXES on Page A-3)

ONE

down to enjoy her breakfast, Tessa ettling

McCamfrey skimmed over the first few pages of the Union-Tribune.
Headlines, photo captions, and advertisements were the only things she
stopped for. She could see and read the smaller type of the art ides
and editorials, but she didn't like to concentrate on the characters
for very long. Their size made her nervous.

Leaning over her white, laminated desk, Tessa grabbed her bacon
sandwich from its place by the phone. As always before she bit into
the toasted English muffin, she took a peek inside, checking that
everything was just right. She liked to see the grain of the meat.

Satisfied, she took a bite of the sandwich, then flicked the paper to
the next page. Hum she mumbled to herself as her gaze flicked across
the headline STILL NO SIGN OF THE MISSING BOXES. How long had it been
now? A month? Six weeks? They'd probably never turn up again.

Just as Tessa threw the paper on the desk, the phone rang. Her body
stiffened for the briefest moment. Three more rings, and then the
brand spanking new Sony Deluxe Home Answering System clicked into
action. Cassette wheels turned, appropriate lights blinked, then a
voice that was not Tessa's own advised the caller, Our family isn't at
home right now. Please leave a message after the tone and we will call
you back.

Tessa grimaced. Our family. She really should replace the prerecorded
message with one of her own. Even as the thought occurred- to her, she
knew she'd never change it. She never could bring herself to do
anything that needed to be done.

An efficient beep sounded and was quickly replaced by a soft male
voice. Tessa?... Tessa? Are you there? A pause followed, and when
the voice came again it had lost some of its softness to frustration.