By Jeffery Deaver
Unlocking a chilly case with explosive implications for the way forward for civil rights, forensics professional Lincoln Rhyme and his protégé, Amelia Sachs, needs to outguess a killer who has specified a highschool woman from Harlem who's digging into the previous of 1 of her ancestors, a former slave. What buried secrets and techniques from one hundred forty years in the past may have an murderer out for blameless blood? And what chilling message is hidden in his calling card, the hanged guy of the tarot deck? Rhyme needs to count on the following strike or turn into history...
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Extra resources for The Twelfth Card (Lincoln Rhyme, Book 6)
If she handled it well, and she had no doubts on that score, her promotion would be assured. Meanwhile, she had to shake her mood. If the Garge, herself, had morale problems, what about those poor men in the crew? She moved her hand and was in instant contact with the control bridge. The face on the screen was that of a technician, Bakron grade. He was at attention, his eyes showing a sort of wistful respect. He was a fine looking lad on his second deep space blink and Cele had been aware for months that he had developed a passionate attraction for her.
Pooh," Sooly said, her smile fading. "It's always been private property. " "No," Toby answered truthfully. " Sooly asked. "I am employed here. " "You've got to be kidding," Sooly said, her face clouding up. " Toby began. "No one has ever objected before," Sooly said, interrupting in the way of a woman. "I don't understand why the sudden concern. We're not hurting anything. " "There is a new owner," Toby said. , kids," Sooly said, thoroughly angered. An outsider was butting in on something that wasn't any of his business, telling her she couldn't do something she'd been doing for years.
Outside she was utilitarian and clumsy, but inside, except in the engine rooms, which were made hopeless by huge mountains of machinery and which had always been and always would be man's country, she was as smart as a ship of the line and only slightly less plush than Cele's former command, the liner. She could not, of course, come close to the oldest and smallest of the exploration ships in style, comfort or equipment, but then the choice everything went into the expos. If Cele had not entertained every expectation of having an expo ship of her own, and not too far in the future, she could have very easily resented the emphasis put on expos.