Private Oz (23 page)

I OPENED MY eyes and saw a man’s face. It took the shape of my cousin Mark’s. I felt an instant stab of déjà vu. Slowly, my senses returned. I could feel the coolness of cotton sheets. The room was lit with natural light, curtains pulled back across a window in the opposite wall.

Everything came to me in a rush.

“You were very lucky.”

“I feel like I’ve been here before,” I managed to say.

Mark smiled. That’s when the vision of the past shattered.

“What’s the damage this time?” I said flatly, giving my cousin a baffled look.

“Oh, perforated intestine … and she just nicked your spleen.”

I lifted the sheet and saw a bandage across my abdomen. “I got off light,” I said cautiously.

“I got off lighter, Craig … Thanks to you. And you were unarmed!”

“You shitting me?”

Mark grinned and looked down at his feet. “I don’t want to go out and choose curtains with you, Craig, but to be
honest … I’m worn out with this constant war. God. It was all a long time ago. We’ve both lost …” He trailed off and looked into my face.

I sensed the numbing effect of painkillers. “How long have I been out?”

He glanced at his watch. “Thirty-five, thirty-six hours.”

I slowly pulled myself up in the bed. “What’s happened?”

“Julie O’Connor’s under armed guard in intensive care.”

“And Greta?”

“She’s fine. In shock, but unharmed. Nasty cut in her back. She was here earlier – but you were still out. You’re her hero!”

I produced a small laugh. “Ow! Christ!”

“Only hurts when you laugh right, Craig?”

“It was a close one.”

“Sure was.” He looked at me seriously. “But it’s over … right?” And he fixed me with his eyes.

I nodded and lay back on the pillows. “So look … the O’Connor woman … she was driven by pure jealousy, yeah?”

“Only partly. Seems there was more to it than that. One of my guys found out something very interesting this morning. Three months ago, Julie O’Connor was the victim of a botched operation – a tuboplasty or something like that. It was to … I dunno … unblock her Fallopian tubes or some shit. Guess who the gynecologist was?”

“Cameron Granger … Of course!”

“Your girl Darlene’s managed to get a lot of background stuff from the woman’s scrapbook. O’Connor was desperate to have children and when the op went wrong it went spectacularly wrong!”

“She was infertile?”

“Totally. Her life fell apart. She was already living on the breadline in Sandsville. Her boyfriend, Bruce Frimmel, left her. She killed him. It gave her the taste for doing it some more, I guess. And it was all made worse because of where she worked. In her scrapbook she refers to the Bellevue Hill women as ‘whores’. She thought they were little more than prostitutes – leading lavish lives thanks to rich husbands.”

“That would explain the money inserted in the victims – a symbolic gesture.”

“Not just money, Craig.
Fake money
… for what she saw as fake women, fake wives.”

“Isn’t it amazing though?” I said. “The killer takes it out on other women. She didn’t try to kill the person who caused all the trouble in the first place, Dr. Granger.”

“Seen it before. O’Connor displaced the blame. That’s why I said earlier it was exaggerated by the place she worked in. Deep down, repressed for years, she
was
envious of the women she saw each day in Bellevue Hill. Being messed up by Granger pushed her over the edge.”

“We’ll probably never know what the original spark could have been.”

“Actually, we do. That girl of yours, Darlene, is shit hot. She found out Julie was traumatized in childhood. There was a file on her at St. Joseph’s Psychiatric Hospital. Julie spent some time there almost ten years ago – she’d been living on the streets, raped, mugged. According to the reports, she claimed her mother had tortured her as a child. The authorities tried to check the story but the woman, Sheila O’Connor, had moved abroad.”

“So she was seeking some twisted revenge?”

“I guess.”

I took a deep breath and gazed across to the window. “And Cameron Granger got away with it.”

“Well, not altogether. He lost his wife.”

I nodded, sighed heavily.

“And,” Mark went on, “one of my sergeants – Howard Tindle … a good kid – he sniffed a rat.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“The hospital Granger works in closed ranks, protected the bastard. They covered up his malpractice with O’Connor. They assumed she was too naive and too dumb to do anything about it. And, in a way, she was. But the truth will come out now. Granger’s finished.”

“Good,” I said with genuine feeling.

IN A WAY, history was repeating itself.

It was the day after I was released from hospital. I was in my car taking Justine to the airport, driving along the same road I’d traveled three years ago. There was a beautiful woman beside me, but no child in the back. And I was a very different person.

The airport was packed. Justine checked in and I walked with her to the Departure Zone, the scanners and security guys just a few feet away.

“It’s been eventful,” I said.

“Can’t deny that, Craig.”

“You’ve been a great help. If ever you feel like a break from the LA office …”

“I might seriously consider that.”

“Wish Jack my best, yeah?”

“I will.”

She walked through passport control. I watched her turn and wave and I thought … “Jack Morgan, you are one lucky guy.”

I WALKED INTO the conference room at Private HQ and the team applauded me. Hadn’t expected that.

I surveyed the gathering – Johnny, Mary, Darlene and Colette – the core of my life and my work.

“Thanks,” I said rather weakly. “Not sure why I deserve it …”

“I think we all deserve a pat on the back, actually,” Johnny said.

“It’s been one hell of a first week!” I replied. “So, how have things wound up?”

“Geoff Hewes was buried yesterday afternoon,” Mary began. “Pam Hewes is back home with her kids. I called in to see if there was anything … Of course it’ll take her months to recover fully.”

I nodded. “And what about Graham Parker?”

“Seventeen stitches and a very rock ’n’ roll scar. Micky’s fine. Spent a night in hospital after his party, but no permanent harm done. He’s rehearsing for a big tour. Out of gratitude, he’s helping Parker settle his gambling debts. Katia is being deported.”

“But what about the song you told me about? The one describing his own death. Why did he even write that?”

Johnny shrugged. “I think it was purely an artistic gesture. He felt helpless, controlled by ‘the suits’. He’s a sensitive guy, but that sensitivity had slipped into paranoia. His phenomenal drug intake couldn’t have helped!”

“And what about Hemi?”

“He’s up and running … well waddling.”

We all laughed.

“He’s mighty pissed though … as you would imagine!” Johnny added.

“I heard you bumped into Al Loretto’s boy, Jerry.”

“Yeah, I did. He was helpful in making me realize what a mess Parker had gotten himself into.”

“And you’ve heard nothing from his dad?”

“The cameras have gone again from the brothels, apparently. Loretto got his way in the end, of course.”

“And I reckon if the bouncer hadn’t got to Geoff Hewes first,” Mary commented, “Loretto wouldn’t have given him another chance.”

“They were lining up for the guy!”

“Word got out about the lovely Ken Boston,” Darlene commented. “He’s resigned.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What about the Ho family, Mary?”

“Dai was under observation in hospital. He was severely traumatized. His father has booked him in for plastic surgery. The police here are liaising with the Hong Kong authorities. They’re after the big boss, Fong Sum, but I’m pretty sure they’re wasting their time.”

“Untouchable?”

“For the moment. Ho is just relieved his son was saved. He now wants to have the case of his wife’s murder reopened. He’s convinced twelve years ago a bent cop was in the pocket of the Sydney Triads and buried evidence. He’s sure the Triads killed Jiao. He wants to prove it
and
to identify those involved.”

“Good luck to him!” I said leaning back in my chair. “Well, sounds like we’ve had a few positive results. Not bad for our first week!”

“And why shouldn’t we have?” Darlene asked.

I smiled. “Yeah, you’re right. Why shouldn’t we have?”

“Oh, there are these, though,” Johnny added and pushed a small pile of papers toward me across the conference table.

I glanced at the top one. The words: “Roads and Maritime Services” printed in the top right corner … speeding tickets.

I lifted my eyes and saw the entire team grinning at me.

“Looks like I might have to call in a favor,” I laughed.

JAMES PATTERSON is one of the best known and biggest selling writers of all time. He is the author of some of the most popular series of the past decade: the Women’s Murder Club, the Alex Cross novels and Maximum Ride, and he has written many other number one bestsellers, including romance novels and stand-alone thrillers. He lives in Florida with his wife and son.

James is passionate about encouraging both adults and children alike to read. This has led to him forming a partnership with the National Literacy Trust, an independent, UK-based charity that changes lives through literacy.

MICHAEL WHITE is the bestselling author of eight novels and twenty-eight non-fiction titles. His books have been translated into forty languages. He was shortlisted for the Aventis Prize in 2002 for his book Rivals and longlisted in 2006 for
The Fruits of War
. His latest book is
The Kennedy Conspiracy
.

In a previous incarnation, Michael was a member of the Thompson Twins. He lives with his wife and four children in Perth.

Private

James Patterson
& Diane Paetro

A new Patterson series based around an L.A. private investigator.

Jack Morgan is a war hero. Returning home from Afghanistan after being wounded, Jack is called into California State Prison to visit his father, Tom, who is serving a life sentence for extortion and murder. Before being incarcerated, Tom ran a private investigation firm called ‘Private’. Tom wants Jack to re-start the company, to make it great again, and gives him access to a $15 million dollar account in the Cayman Islands to do it with.

Five years later and Jack has set up offices spanning the globe.Private’s services are much sought-after and Jack has clients ranging from movie stars to politicians. Jack is keen to keep the business legal and not fall into the same traps as his father. But when the mob come calling, they are not easy to refuse.

On a rare night off accompanying a client to the Golden Globe awards, Jack receives a phone call from school friend Abbie Cushman. Abbie’s wife has been murdered and he desperately needs Jack’s help. The murder is brutal and with no apparent motive; fingers begin pointing towards Abbie. Jack is certain that Abbie didn’t kill his wife, but he will have to work night and day to prove it.

Meanwhile, Jack’s second-in-command at Private, Justine Smith, is helping the L.A.P.D. in a serial killer investigation. Over the past two years, twelve school girls from the same area in L.A. have been murdered. The killings are highly professional and so far the Police have no leads whatsoever. Justine has been called in to make use of her experience and Private’s resources. A breakthrough is desperately needed, because these killings show no signs of stopping

OUT NOW!

Private London

James Patterson
& Mark Pearson

A hard-hitting thriller set in the London office of the world’s most exclusive detective agency.

For Hannah Shapiro, a beautiful young American student, this particular nightmare began eight years ago in Los Angeles, when Jack Morgan, owner of Private – the world’s most exclusive detective agency – saved her from a horrific death. She has fled her country, but can’t flee her past. The terror has followed her to London, and now it is down to former Royal Military Police Sergeant Dan Carter, head of Private London, to save her all over again.

In central London, young women are being abducted off the street. When the bodies are found, some days later, they have been mutilated in a particularly mysterious way. Dan Carter’s ex-wife, DI Kirsty Webb, is involved in the investigation and it looks likely that the two cases are gruesomely linked.

Dan Carter draws on the whole resources of Private International in a desperate race against the odds. But the clock is ticking … Private may be the largest and most technologically advanced detection agency in the world, but the only thing they don’t have is the one thing they need – time.

James Patterson’s white-knuckle rollercoaster has just reached London. Buckle up, it’s one hell of a ride!

OUT NOW!

Private Games

James Patterson
& Mark Sullivan

A new thriller in the no. 1 bestselling Private series based around the London 2012 Olympic Games.

The Olympic Games have arrived in London, and the world is waiting in eager anticipation of the biggest event in global sport. The preparations have gone flawlessly and the stage is set for one of the greatest Olympic Games of the modern era. However, one man is plotting to destroy the Games. Having waited years for this chance, he is ready to exact his vengeance.

When Sir Denton Marshall, key member of the London 2012 organising committee, is found decapitated in his own back garden, Peter Knight, head of the London branch of Private, is called to the scene. Private have been hired to run the security operations at the Games, so Sir Denton was a client. He was also Knight’s mother’s fiancé.

Having only recently lost many friends and colleagues at Private London in a fatal plane crash, this new personal grief threatens to push Knight over the edge. But when it becomes clear that this attack was not an isolated incident, Knight realises that he cannot afford to crack under the pressure – the fate of the Olympics rests solely on his shoulders.

OUT NOW!