致命的白色
最新书摘：
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Kevin2022-05-30She pictured his expression over the gun, as he had asked her why women thought there was any difference between them: the mother whom he called a whore, the stepmother he had seduced, Robin, whom he was about to kill so that he didn’t have to enter hell alone. Was he ill in any sense that would put him in a psychiatric institution rather than the prison that so terrified him? Or had his dream of patricide been spawned in the shadowy wasteland between sickness and irreducible malevolence? (Epilogue)
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Kevin2022-05-30But Billy didn’t move. The skin and bone might have aged, but his face betrayed the fear and hopelessness of a small, motherless child whose sanity had been broken by the men who were supposed to protect him. Strike, who had met countless rootless and neglected children during his rackety, unstable childhood, recognised in Billy’s imploring expression a last plea to the adult world, to do what grown-ups were meant to do, and impose order on chaos, substitute sanity for brutality. Face to face, he felt a strange kinship with the emaciated, shaven-headed psychiatric patient, because he recognised the same craving for order in himself. In his case, it had led him to the official side of the desk, but perhaps the only difference between the two of them was that Strike’s mother had lived long e...
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Kevin2022-05-30She watched Matthew struggling to find words that might save him, but the seconds slid by, and it was too late for real incredulity, for astonished innocence, for genuine incomprehension. (55)
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Kevin2022-05-30Now, though, reason and experience rolled up their sleeves, ready to conduct a professional post-mortem on the remembered conversation, methodically disinterring the unmistakable signs of Charlotte’s perennial will to shock and her apparently insatiable need for conflict. (52)
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Kevin2022-05-30A concealed door opened, and Drummond emerged: a curious-looking man, whose ascetic features of pinched nose and black brows were enclosed by tolls of fat around chin and neck, as though a puritan had been engulfed by the body of a jolly squire. (49)
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Kevin2022-05-30‘There are worse childhoods,’ said Strike.…‘Plenty of people go through worse than having a party girl for a mother,’ he said, ‘and they don’t end up committing murder. Look at Billy Knight. No mother at all for most of his life. Violent, alcoholic father, beaten and neglected, ends up with serious mental illness and he’s never hurt anyone. He came to my office in the throes of psychosis, trying to get justice for someone else.’…But Robin had the impression that even now, Izzy could not equate the pain of Raphael and Billy. The former’s suffering would always evoke more pity in her than the latter’s, because a Chiswell was innately different to the kind of motherless boy whose beatings were hidden in the woods, where estate workers lived according to the laws of their kind. (Epilogue)
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Kevin2022-05-30The idea that this incident should have been reported to either police or social work seemed not to have occurred to Izzy, or indeed her father. It was as though Jack o’Kent and his son were wild creatures in the wood, behaving, regrettably, as such animals naturally behaved. (42)
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Kevin2022-05-30‘Pringle. That’s what they call the eldest grandson. Fizzy’s got three children,’ Robin explained, ‘Izzy was always banging on about them: Pringle, Flopsy and Pong.’‘Jesus Christ,’ muttered Strike. ‘It’s like interviewing the Teletubbies.’ (41)
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Kevin2022-05-30Strike turned off the light, closed his eyes and sank, once more, into uneasy dreams of the empty house where squares of unfaded wallpaper bore witness to the removal of everything of value, but this time he walked alone, with the strange sensation that hidden eyes were watching. (52)
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Kevin2022-05-30Strike had a sudden feeling that he was being watched. Ossie, the bolder of Nick and Ilsa’s kittens, was sitting at the kitchen window, beside the kitchen taps, staring through the window with eyes of pale jade. His gaze felt judgmental. (36)
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Kevin2022-01-03Like a tongue probing a pair of ulcers, Strike’s thoughts kept returning fruitlessly to the Knight brothers: Jimmy, charismatic, articulate, thuggishly good-looking, a chancer and a hothead, and Billy, haunted, filthy, unquestionably ill, bedeviled by a memory no less dreadful for the fact that it might be false.
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Kevin2022-01-03There was no question of anybody challenging his right to sole occupancy of a table made for four. Strike was large enough, and surly enough in appearance to make even this group of civil servants doubt their ability to negotiate a compromise.
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Kevin2022-01-03The pub was tucked away on a junction of centuries-old back streets — Old Queen Street, Cockpit Steps — amid a motley collection of quaint, sedate buildings that stood at oblique angles to each other.
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gao2020-01-29和他們忽然相互擁抱一樣，他們又忽然分開，淚水紛紛滑下，有那麼瘋狂的一瞬間，史崔克很想說：「跟我走。」但有話永遠不會被說出口或被忘記，他知道，這句話就是其中之一。「再連絡。」他又重複再說。他試著微笑，但微笑使他的臉頰疼痛，他揮揮裹著繃帶的手，頭也不回地繼續下樓。她目送他離開，一面拚命擦拭臉上的淚水。如果他對她說「跟我走」，她知道她會，但然後呢？蘿蘋哽咽，用手背擦拭鼻子，再度撩起裙子，緩緩上樓回到她的丈夫身邊。
