Red Leaves
From the internationally bestselling author of The Bronze Horseman, the tale of an Ivy League campus devastated by the intractable mystery at the heart of a student’s deathFour students and their relationships lie at the core of this dazzling novel of mystery, murder and suspense, set in a snowbound Ivy League college. Their focal point is brilliant basketball star Kristina Kim – apparently happy and stable, but soon revealed to have hidden secrets.When she is found dead in the snow, it falls to local detective Spencer O’Malley, a man who had half fallen in love with her, to investigate the crime. The spotlight falls on her three closest friends… and a story as gothic and intense as a modern-day Wuthering Heights begins to unravel.
Читать Red Leaves онлайн беплатно
PAULLINA SIMONS
RED LEAVES
Harper
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by Flamingo an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1997
Copyright © Paullina Simons 1996
Paullina Simons asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.
Source ISBN: 9780006550570
Ebook Edition © MARCH 2015 ISBN: 9780007396689 Version: 2015-03-09
For my Kevin,
and for Bob Tavetian, you’re in our hearts
Contents
CHAPTER FOUR: In the Woods and on the Wall
CHAPTER SIX: Disposition of the Estate
CHAPTER SEVEN: Constance Tobias
At Greenwich Point Park, where the saltwater air from Long Island Sound fused with the earthy smell of fallen leaves, two children climbed stairs leading to what once was a castle. They were alone.
Earlier they had walked past the parking attendant, who seemed to know them well and waved them on with a smile. The park was large and it was a long walk to where they wanted to be, but the sun shone and it was still warm. The girl carried a white-and-red paper bag, while the boy carried his baseball cap and a kite. They walked around the western end of the bay and found a picnic table near the beach. The girl immediately wanted to take off her shoes and feel the smooth stones under her feet, but the boy said no. He wanted to eat first. She sighed and sat down. They ate. The girl didn’t sulk for long; she was happy to be here.
Afterward, she kicked off her white canvas shoes, stood, and happily headed for the water. Many of the stones were covered with slimy moss, but she didn’t mind. She picked up some of the scattered mussels around the beach and inspected them. She threw down the open ones, remembering what her father had told her: ‘If they are open, it means they are dead and no good.’ She put the closed black shells in her bag. The boy brought over some crabs, and she put them in her bag also.
For fifteen minutes, they tried to figure out if the moving ripples in the bay about fifty yards away were waves or otters. The girl said they were otters, but the boy laughed. Waves, he told her, just waves. She wasn’t convinced. From a distance, they looked like they had black backs and were diving in and out of the water. They dove in place, so maybe he was right, though she didn’t want him to be right. He thought he was always right. Besides, it would be fun to think they saw otters in their park.
The girl headed back up to the path. He ran past her, pulling her hair along the way. She moved her head away from him but hastened her step, trying to skip on the stones.
She was a pretty girl. Her short hair clung neatly to her head. Her impeccably tailored white blouse was starched, and her jeans were ironed and creased. Her white jacket didn’t have any grime on the sleeves as is common for children her age. Her canvas shoes were bleached white and the laces looked new. Taking off her shoes and walking on the slimy moss was the only sloppy childlike luxury the girl would allow herself.
The girl liked the picnic part and the kite-flying part on the other side of the sprawling park. It was the in-between part that made her slightly weepy. She wished they could be at the green field already, unwinding the kite string. When the kite was high in the air, the girl would let go the string and run after the boy, yelling, ‘Higher, higher, higher…’
Fall was her favorite time of year, especially here, where the fierce salt wind blew over the red leaves of the white oaks.
