"Robb, J D - In Death 08 - Midnight In Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robb J D)

wounds around his wrists and ankles indicated that he'd been bound. But it
hadn't been the beating or the burns that killed him.
The rope used to hang him was still around his neck, digging deep into
flesh. Even that wouldn't have been quick, she decided. It didn't appear that

his neck had been broken, and the burst vessels in his eyes and face signaled
slow strangulation.
"He wanted you alive as long as possible," she murmured. "He wanted you
to feel it all."
Kneeling now, she studied the handwritten note that was flapping gaily in
the wind. It had been fixed over the judge's groin like an obscene loincloth.
The list of names had been printed in careful square block letters.
JUDGE HAROLD WAINGER
PROSECUTING ATTORNEY STEPHANIE RING
PUBLIC DEFENDER CARL NEISSAN
JUSTINE POLINSKY
DOCTOR CHARLOTTE MIRA
LIEUTENANT EVE DALLAS
"Saving me for last, Dave?"
She recognized the style: gleeful infliction of pain followed by a slow,
torturous death. David Palmer enjoyed his work. His experiments, as he'd called
them when Eve had finally hunted him down three years before.
By the time she'd gotten him into a cage, he had eight victims to his
credit, and with them an extensive file of discs recording his work. Since then
he'd been serving the eight life-term sentences that Wainger had given him in a
maximum-security ward for mental defectives.
"But you got out, didn't you, Dave? This is your handiwork. The torture,
the humiliations, the burns. Public dumping spot for the body. No copycat here.
Bag him," she ordered and got wearily to her feet.
It didn't look as though the last days of December 2058 were going to be
much of a party.
The minute she was back in her vehicle, Eve ordered the heat on full
blast. She stripped off her gloves and rubbed her hands over her face. She would
have to go in and file her report, but the first order of business couldn't wait
for her to drive to her home office. Damn if she was going to spend Christmas
Day at Cop Central.
She used the in-dash 'link to contact Dispatch and arrange to have each
name on the list notified of possible jeopardy. Christmas or not, she was
ordering uniformed guards on each one.
As she drove, she engaged her computer. "Computer, status on David
Palmer, mental-defective inmate on Rexal penal facility."
Working.... David Palmer, sentenced to eight consecutive life terms in
off-planet facility Rexal reported escaped during transport to prison infirmary,
December nineteen. Man-hunt ongoing.
"I guess Dave decided to come home for the holidays." She glanced up,
scowling, as a blimp cruised over, blasting Christmas tunes as dawn broke over
the city. Screw the herald angels, she thought, and called her commander.
"Sir," she said when Whitney's face filled her screen. "I'm sorry to
disturb your Christmas."
"I've already been notified about Judge Wainger. He was a good man."