So he did not entirely trust Ross.
But then, Parker had never entirely trusted Ross.
CHAPTER
CXIX
The Principal Backer sat in the library of the Colonial Club, sipping a scotch.
Thinking.
Worrying.
Quayle and Mors were gone. They had not availed themselves of the Backers’ assistance in returning to England, choosing instead a route home via Mexico, which suggested a certain lack of trust. And although reports indicated Mors had been injured in the confrontation with Parker, it was also clear that Quayle was in possession of the pieces of his precious fucking Atlas when he left.
The Principal Backer had expended a great deal of time and energy in hampering the search for the Buried God. He had done so with the active collusion of a number of his fellow Backers, each of whom was as eager as he to ensure the continuance of the status quo. They had wealth, power, and influence, all of which they would someday bequeath to the next generation: old blood in new bottles.
But if Quayle was not deranged, and the Atlas could do as he claimed, then the world was already being reordered, its boundaries redrawn in preparation for the coming of the Not-Gods, and the war on the Old. The Backers would not be spared. No one would.
Not unless Quayle was stopped.
CHAPTER
CXX
The funeral of Billy Stonehurst took place on a clear spring morning amid blossoms, birdsong, and rebirth, when no young man should be laid to rest. A choir sang, and handshakes and sympathy were offered to the grieving parents. Afterward, drinks and a buffet were served at a hall in South Portland, not far from the cemetery. During the reception, Bobby Ocean’s wife slapped her husband repeatedly on the face. She subsequently departed, and did not return.
Two weeks later, Bobby Ocean commenced his retirement from business, and initiated the sale of his companies. Two weeks after that, he and his wife announced their separation. By then, Bobby Ocean was already in the process of establishing, in memory of his son, the William Stonehurst Foundation for American Ideas, which would quickly ally itself with the American Freedom Party, American Renaissance, the Council of Conservative Citizens, and the National Policy Institute, among other white-power organizations.
Bobby Ocean had become pure hatred.
* * *
PARKER RAN INTO GORDON Walsh after a movie at the Nickelodeon. Walsh was with a woman Parker didn’t recognize, and he was no longer wearing a wedding ring. Walsh introduced the woman as Jessica, but offered no further details. He and Parker stood outside the theater while Jessica went to the bathroom. It was the first time the two men had spoken properly since Parker’s brief confinement in Augusta.
“I wanted to apologize for calling you a son of a bitch,” said Walsh. “I mean, you are a son of a bitch occasionally, but I wouldn’t like to think it defined you.”
“You should market that as a greeting card.”
“I have others. I’ll just add it to the pile.”
“You see that thing about Bobby Ocean?” said Parker.
“The far-right business? Yeah. No surprise, but still.”
“Not good.”
“No,” said Walsh. He sniffed at the night air. “You smell that?”
Jessica appeared beside Walsh.
“Smell what?” said Parker.
Walsh laid his left hand on Parker’s shoulder, and used his right to point in the direction of Commercial, and the waterfront, and a parking lot still slightly blackened by fire.
“A hint of smoke,” said Walsh. “You shouldn’t have let Louis burn that truck.”
It took Parker a few moments to respond.
“You’re right,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“I shouldn’t have left it to a black man to call out a racist. I should have done it myself.”
CHAPTER
CXXI
The crossword setters for The Times of London took great pride in their work, and rarely invited, or tolerated, outside interference in their puzzles. It took a great deal of convincing, the intervention of an agent of the U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation, and the promise of some small favors to the newspaper’s parent company—and, indeed, to the setters themselves—before the insertion of a very particular set of clues into the cryptic crossword of March 30 was permitted. Even then, rumblings of immense discontent accompanied the inclusion of one clue, because its appearance would require an apology to be made to Times cruciverbalists the following day, with all blame for the error being ascribed to a mysterious, and forever unnamed, assistant.
* * *
LONDON’S JAMAICA WINE HOUSE, a wood-paneled Victorian pub, lies in St. Michael’s Alley, a pedestrian laneway between Cornhill and Lombard Streets, not far from the Thames. On March 30, shortly after midday, a figure dressed in velvet and tweed sat at a quiet table to the rear, drinking coffee and studying, as was his wont, the Times crossword. The Jamaica was one of his regular haunts, although he had not been seen in its environs for some time, and he appeared more troubled than usual, and was short with the staff.
He was musing on ten down, which read, To pursue, fearful or not, the bird thus flown. A poor but obvious clue, he thought, and well below the usual standards of the setter. It seemed to him that “hunting quail” must be the answer, but the final letter had to be “e,” to allow for “locomotive” (The reason, perhaps, for a murder on the Orient Express), while the second last must surely be “bombshell” (Alarming blast of beauty). But how could the compiler misspell “quail” as “quayle”? There would be complaints about it.
The lawyer Quayle paused. He looked at nine across, another odd clue that had bothered him with the awkwardness of its construction: Jazzes up, but only once the vehicle is secure. That had to be “Charlie Parker.”
He placed circles around the solutions to the two clues in question, isolating four words.
Quayle looked around him. He was alone and unwatched.
The trouble was, he no longer felt alone or unwatched.
He folded the newspaper, and left the Jamaica to lose himself in crowds.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Lieutenant Brian McDonough, formerly of the Maine State Police and now enjoying what I hope will be a very long and happy retirement, kindly answered my questions on procedural matters for this novel. My gratitude also to Stephen McCausland, spokesman for the Maine State Police, for his assistance. Dr. Fergus Brady, my fine physician, clarified medical details for me. Thanks also to Brian Cliff and Mari Rothman for answering some of my odder questions. Any errors and inventions in law or medicine are entirely my own.
As ever, my thanks to my American editor, Emily Bestler, and all at Atria/Emily Bestler Books, including—but certainly not limited to—Judith Curr, Lara Jones, Stephanie Mendoza, and David Brown; my British editor, Sue Fletcher, and all at Hodder & Stoughton, especially Carolyn Mays, Kerry Hood, Swati Gamble, Lucy Hale, Auriol Bishop, and Alasdair Oliver; my agent, Darley Anderson, and his wonderful staff; Ellen Clair Lamb and Kate O’Hearn, for kindness and support; John Dodson and the staff at Trend Digital Media; and David O’Brien, aka Envoy, for composing the fine soundtrack CD that accompanies this novel. Love and gratitude to Jennie Ridyard, Alistair Ridyard, and particularly on this occasion, Cameron Ridyard, who created the new johnconnollybooks.com website. And very nice it is, too.
John Connolly has compiled six previous soundtracks to accompany his novels, mostly comprising songs with a lyrical or thematic connection to his work. The seventh, THE HONEYCOMB WORLD, is a little different, as it features music specially composed and performed by the group Envoy, and inspired by the Charlie Parker novels. The entire suite of music is made up of twenty tracks, and is available as a free download to readers as a thank you for their support for John’s books. To download your copy, go to www.WomanintheWoodsBook.com.
To find out more information about the use of music in the books, and to access Spotify playlists of the earlier soundtracks, go to
www.johnconnollybooks.com/curiosities.
Don't miss any of John Connolly's internationally bestselling thrillers.
When a woman goes missing from the streets of New York, the search for her reveals part of an older mystery with links to an ornate church of bones in Eastern Europe.
The Black Angel
* * *
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The Burning Soul
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The past and the present collide violently when the murder of a woman and her young son have ties to a crime from decades past.
Dark Hollow
* * *
Tortured private investigator Charlie Parker stars in New York Times bestselling author John Connolly's debut thriller.
Every Dead Thing
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"An epic supernatural suspense."--Redbook
A Game of Ghosts
* * *
A shadowy organization known as The Fellowship looms over multiple mysterious deaths in a remote Maine town.
The Killing Kind
* * *
A private investigator examines his own haunting past and all that he has ever believed about his parents—and himself.
The Lovers
* * *
The Reapers are the elite of killers, the best at their trade, but the sins of one assassin's past are about to be visited upon him, for someone is now hunting him . . .
The Reapers
* * *
Private detective Charlie Parker investigates a case that has its origins in a Nazi concentration camp during the Second World War.
A Song of Shadows
* * *
An old evil is haunting a strange and isolated community, where a group of men rule by terror, intimidation, and power.
A Time of Torment
* * *
"This frightening work of darkness and beauty . . .is not to be missed."—Bookreporter.com
The Unquiet
* * *
In the dark reaches of Maine's North Woods, a group of Iraq War veterans are engaged in a ruthless smuggling operation. But what they have unleashed is far more dangerous than even they realize . . .
The Whisperers
* * *
An old adversary is about to take his revenge on private investigator Charlie Parker, and a final reckoning is underway in a place where the paths of the living and the dead converge, a place known only as the White Road.
The White Road
* * *
"Compulsively readable."--New Orleans Times Picayune
The Wolf in Winter
* * *
Deep in the Maine woods, a wrecked plane is discovered. It was never reported missing, and there are no bodies, but what is conceals is powerful beyond comprehension . . .
The Wrath of Angels
* * *
ORDER YOUR COPIES TODAY!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JOHN CONNOLLY is the author of the Charlie Parker series of mystery novels, the supernatural collections Nocturnes and Night Music, the Samuel Johnson trilogy for younger readers, The Book of Lost Things, and (with Jennifer Ridyard) the Chronicles of the Invaders series. He lives in Dublin, Ireland. For more information, see his website at JohnConnollyBooks.com, or follow him on Twitter @JConnollyBooks.
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Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/John-Connolly
Facebook.com/EmilyBestler
@EmilyBestler
THE CHARLIE PARKER STORIES
EVERY DEAD THING
DARK HOLLOW
THE KILLING KIND
THE WHITE ROAD
THE REFLECTING EYE
(NOVELLA IN THE NOCTURNES COLLECTION)
THE BLACK ANGEL
THE UNQUIET
THE REAPERS
THE LOVERS
THE WHISPERERS
THE BURNING SOUL
THE WRATH OF ANGELS
THE WOLF IN WINTER
A SONG OF SHADOWS
A TIME OF TORMENT
A GAME OF GHOSTS
OTHER WORKS
BAD MEN
NOCTURNES
NIGHT MUSIC
THE BOOK OF LOST THINGS
he: A NOVEL
THE SAMUEL JOHNSON STORIES (FOR YOUNG ADULTS)
THE GATES
THE INFERNALS
THE CREEPS
THE CHRONICLES OF THE INVADERS (WITH JENNIFER RIDYARD)
CONQUEST
EMPIRE
DOMINION
NONFICTION
BOOKS TO DIE FOR (EDITED BY JOHN CONNOLLY AND DECLAN BURKE)
PARKER: A MISCELLANY
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Connolly, John, 1968– author.
Title: The woman in the woods / by John Connolly.
Description: First Emily Bestler Books/Atria Books hardcover edition. | New York : Emily Bestler Books, 2018.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017058422 (print) | LCCN 2018001546 (ebook) | ISBN 9781501171949 (eBook) | ISBN 9781501171925 (hardback) | ISBN 9781501171932 (trade paperback)
Subjects: LCSH: Parker, Charlie “Bird” (Fictitious character)—Fiction. | Private investigators—Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Thrillers. | FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General. | FICTION / Literary. | GSAFD: Suspense fiction. | Mystery fiction.
Classification: LCC PR6053.O48645 (ebook) | LCC PR6053.O48645 W66 2018 (print) | DDC 823/.914—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017058422
ISBN 978-1-5011-7192-5
ISBN 978-1-5011-7194-9 (ebook)
John Connolly, The Woman in the Woods
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