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Reading books MYSTERY & CRIMEHowever, all readers - sooner or later - find for themselves a literary genre that is fundamentally different from all others.
An astonishing number of readers read mystery and crime.
The peculiarities of such constant attention to mystery and crime by the most diverse readership has been and remains the subject of numerous studies.
But seriously, a detective mystery should matted the reader. However, readers are very different: some try to guess who the killer is, others try to figure out the killer using mathematical methods, and others prefer to get pleasure only by turning the last page.
On the other hand, the law of the genre requires that a mystery and crime doesn’t cover all areas of a person's life at once. A crime puzzle should not be likened to love or historical novels. Only full concentration on the plot! In the same way, the atmosphere of fear, anxiety and horror gradually thickens in the thriller.
The cornerstone of the reader's well-deserved interest mystery and crime is that the criminal is doomed to suffer the punishment he deserves. This is the logic of the detective form. Otherwise, the reader will be dissatisfied and even annoyed.
Naturally, you can’t create a perfect story of mystery and crime . The author must inevitably sacrifice something of his own, but he must have some higher value that would fundamentally distinguish him from other authors. The works of Hammett, Chandler, McDonald, Cain, Stout, containing such peculiar "Emeralds", from generation to generation remain interesting for millions of fans, young and old.


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Read books online » Mystery & Crime » Missing by Adam Nicholls (top e book reader .TXT) 📖

Book online «Missing by Adam Nicholls (top e book reader .TXT) 📖». Author Adam Nicholls



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>“Well, I bet if you had to hurt someone to save yourself, you could do it.”

The boy gave a half nod. “Maybe. But it would have to be to protect myself.”

The killer smiled. “See. I knew you were special. Here, come with me.” He held out his hand.

“Where are we going?”

“To prove how tough you are, of course.”

After staring at him with some skepticism, Ryan took the man’s hand, completely unaware he’d been manipulated, and that his innocence was about to be lost.

Chapter Forty-Eight

They stood outside the house, ready to kill.

“I’m scared,” Ryan said, staring at the door with panic in his eyes.

“Just be smart, boy.”

A beautiful woman, no older than thirty, opened the door. The brilliant white smile she flashed them was warm and enchanting, a simple gesture of friendliness.

It soon turned to shock when a gun was aimed at her face.

“Shh.” The killer flicked the gun and walked her through the house, leaving the kid to close the door behind them. The woman trembled in fear as she led them into the living room, and she had every reason to be afraid.

They were led into a large room where a squat man with a beer gut sat in awe. The young girl at his feet couldn’t have been any older than eight—just a touch younger than Ryan.

“Who are you?” the man asked, raising his hands at the sight of the gun.

“Just a man trying to teach his kid some new skills.” The killer pointed the gun at the seat next to him and commanded the woman to sit.

She obeyed, and the girl climbed off the floor and into the man’s lap.

“And what’s your name, little girl?”

The man protectively wrapped his arms around his daughter. “That’s none of your—”

The killer fired the gun at a cushion, and everyone in the room jumped. This was power in his hands, and he would use it to get what he wanted. If anyone chose to get in his way, that was their own problem. “I was asking the girl, not you.”

The girl mumbled, “T-Thea.”

“Well now,” the killer said, moving the gun between both parents, “isn’t that a pretty name? Thea, why don’t you come and stand over here with me and little Ryan? You’ll find it’s much, much safer to be on this side of the gun.”

“Please don’t hurt my family.” The woman sobbed, shaking her head.

How pitiful.

“I’m not going to do anything. Thea—here, now.” He snapped his fingers.

“It’s all right, baby,” the man said, encouraging her to move.

Thea slid off his lap and stumbled across the living room.

The killer got down on a knee. “Thea, sweetheart. How old are you?”

“E-eight,” she stammered, shaking terribly.

“Eight! You’re a big girl, then, huh? Tell me, do you love your mom and dad?”

Thea nodded, looking down at her socks.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he said. “Who do you prefer?”

“Please, don’t,” the woman whimpered, now shuffling into her man’s arms.

“It’s all right,” the killer said, provoking the kid. “Come, whisper it in my ear. I won’t tell.”

Still not crying, Thea stepped forward and leaned into the killer’s ear, whispering as quietly as she could. The killer found this amusing—everyone had a favorite parent, just as every parent had a favorite child. They just didn’t like to admit it.

“Mommy?” The killer yelled her secret. “You prefer Mommy?” And with a slight jerk of the hand, he aimed the gun at the woman and squeezed the trigger. The bullet exploded from the barrel and her face froze in shock, then she looked down at the patch of red spreading at her gut.

“You son of a bitch!” The man leapt to his feet, tears welling in his eyes. He’d reacted even more strongly than his daughter, who only sobbed quietly to herself.

“Sit the fuck down,” the killer said. “Right now, or I’ll make this very painful for you.”

The man hesitated, then sat beside his dead wife.

“Ryan, you’re up.”

The boy shuffled forward, also shaking, and undoubtedly vulnerable now.

Chuckling, the killer placed the gun in his hand. “You want to feel that power? It’s easy. You have the power in your hand, therefore you are the power. You see what we did here tonight? I bet this man would do anything to make sure his daughter is safe.”

Ryan chewed his lip.

“Go ahead, ask him.”

He stared at the floor, trying to think of something to say, then looked up, pointing the gun at the crying man whose life had been destroyed only moments ago. “Poke yourself in the eye,” Ryan said but made it sound like a question.

“W-What?”

“You heard the kid,” the killer said. “Do as you’re told.”

Creasing his brow, the man lifted a quivering finger in front of his face, then jammed it into his tear-soaked eye. He screamed a curse as he did so, then covered his eye with his hand.

Ryan began to laugh hysterically. “That’s funny!”

“That’s right,” the killer told him. “And you made him do it by coming here with me and holding the gun. What does that mean?”

“Hmm. That I’m… smart?”

“Exactly!” The killer applauded him, taking his hands off Thea for only an instant. “Now, shoot the man, or I’ll shoot you.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You said you could kill to protect yourself. I’m telling you now that you’ll die if you don’t kill this man.” And I might just be walking out of here alone.

Ryan made a sound that kids do when they’re terrified. “I… I don’t think I can.”

“Oh, sure you can. Just point and shoot. Pretend he’s your daddy. Remember him? The one who kept making you feel stupid? The one who kept saying you’re nothing compared to your sister?” He kneeled, leaning close to the boy’s ear. “The daddy who isn’t even looking for you? Pretend this is him, and let him know how you feel.”

“You’re a fucking bastard!” Ryan screamed at the man through gritted teeth, imagining his father as instructed. “I hate you!”

“Again,” the killer demanded. “Tell him again.”

“I hate you! I hate you!”

“Shoot him!”

The gun went off in Ryan’s hand, then dropped to the floor with a clunk. The girl screamed at the deafening gunshot and tried to run, but the killer held her shoulder tighter.

“Yes!” He hadn’t expected the boy to cave in so soon, but it was beautiful.

“What did I do?” Ryan asked, stumbling back toward the wall.

“You showed your true strength, kid. But the real question is, what to do with little Thea? What do you think, hmm?”

The girl wriggled and struggled, trying to escape the killer’s grasp.

With tears in his eyes, Ryan looked at her thoughtfully.

Then he made his decision.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Mason headed up the path with Evie at his side and the revolver in his pocket.

“You sure this is the right place? It looks too neat.”

Mason’s gaze swept across the ceramic gnomes dotted across the lawn and the water feature that stood in the center of the grass. She might be right, he thought, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be careful.

They knocked on the door, Mason keeping his finger coiled around the trigger.

“Just let me do the talking,” Evie told him.

An elderly woman opened the door, surprising them both. She was tall, with gray hair and purple-rimmed glasses. Were it not for her confusion at the serious-looking couple on her doorstep, she might have been more welcoming. “Yes?”

Evie paused. “I’m sorry, we were expecting a man.”

“Last I checked, dear, I was all woman.”

Mason took over, handing over a picture of the killer. “Do you

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