The keeper of lost causes [electronic resource (EPUB eBook)] / Jussi Adler-Olsen . Saved in: Main Author: Adler-Olsen, Jussi. Corporate Author: OverDrive Inc. Jussi Adler-Olsen - [Department Q 02] - Disgrace (The Absent One) (epub) - dokument [*.epub] JUSSI ADLER-OLSEN Disgrace Translated by K. E. Semmel. Jussi Adler-Olsen is Denmark's #1 crime writer and a New York Times bestseller. His books routinely top the bestseller lists in Europe and have sold more than.
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Miserable wretches. Kimmie tried to sneak past her, heading directly for the stairwell to Reventlowsgade, but Tine had spotted her.
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Hey, wait up, damn it,' she managed in a sniffling moment of lucidity, but Kimmie didn't respond. Rat-Tine wasn't good in open spaces. Only when she sat on her bench did her brain function reasonably.
She was, however, the only person Kimmie could tolerate. The wind whipping through the streets that day was inexplicably cold, so people wanted to get home quickly. For that reason, five black Mercedes idled in the taxi queue by the train station's Istedgade entrance. She thought there'd be at least one remaining when she needed it.
That was all she wanted to know. She dragged the suitcase across the street to the basement Thai shop and left it next to the window. Only once before had a suitcase been stolen when she'd put it there. She felt certain it wouldn't happen in this weather, when even thieves stayed indoors.
It didn't matter anyway. There was nothing of any value in the suitcase. She waited only about ten minutes at the main entrance to the station before she got a bite. A fabulously beautiful woman in a mink coat, with a lithe body not much larger than a size 8, was leaving a taxi with a suitcase on hard rubber wheels. In the past Kimmie had always looked for women who wore a size 10, but that was many years ago. Living on the street didn't make anyone fat. While the woman concentrated on the ticket machine in the front entrance, Kimmie stole the suitcase.
Then she made off towards the back exit and in no time was down among the taxis on Reventlowsgade. Practice makes perfect. There she loaded her stolen suitcase into the boot of the first taxi in the queue and asked the driver to take her for a short ride. From her coat pocket she pulled out a fat bundle of hundred-krone bills.
In about an hour they would return and pick up her old suitcase. By then she would be wearing new clothes and another woman's scent.
No doubt the taxi driver's nostrils would quiver for an entirely different reason then.
When flying business class, there were any number of women who had no objections to hearing about his Lamborghini and how fast it could drive to his domicile in the fashionable suburb of Rungsted. This time he'd set his sights on a woman with soft hair gathered at the nape of her neck and glasses with heavy black frames that made her look unapproachable.
It aroused him. He'd tried speaking to her, with no luck. Offered her his copy of The Economist, the cover of which featured a backlit nuclear reactor, only to be met with a dismissive wave. He ordered her a drink that she didn't touch. By the time the plane from Stettin landed on the dot at Kastrup Airport, the entire ninety valuable minutes had been wasted. It was the kind of thing that made him aggressive. He headed down the glass corridors in Terminal 3 and upon reaching the moving walkway he saw his victim.
A man with a bad gait, headed determinedly in the same direction. Ditlev picked up his pace and arrived just as the old man put one leg on the walkway.
Ditlev could imagine it clearly: He would have gladly carried out this fantasy in reality. That was the kind of person he was. He and the others in the gang had all been raised that way.
It was neither invigorating nor shameful. If he'd actually done it, in a way it would have been that bitch's fault. She could have just gone home with him. Within an hour they could have been in bed.
It was her bloody fault. His mobile rang as the Strandmolle Inn appeared in the rear-view mirror and the sea rose once again, blindingly, in front of him. It was Ulrik. When exactly? The 10th of September.
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Around 9 p. We didn't find her. But you know how he is. He wasn't any help. How did she look? Thinner than she used to be. But she reeked. Of sweat and piss. That was the worst thing about Kimmie. Not only could she disappear for months or years, but you never really knew who she was. Invisible, and then suddenly alarmingly visible. She was the most dangerous element in their lives.
The only one who could truly threaten them. He snapped on the light, letting his gaze fall on his desk, the top of which was covered in swollen stacks of case files; the urge to close the door and get the hell out of there was powerful. It didn't help that, in the midst of all this, Assad had planted a bunch of gladioli big enough to obstruct a medium-sized street.
He turned and looked directly into Assad's lively, shiny, brown eyes. His thin, black hair flared in all directions in a sort of welcoming way. Assad was ready for another round at the police station's altar, worst luck for him.
Bloody police reform. Carl would soon need a GPS to find his way to the homicide chief's office. He had been away for only three lousy weeks, and yet there were at least five new faces glaring at him as if he were an alien. Who the hell were they? The pale green surfaces reminded him of a cross between an operating room and a crisis-control centre in a Len Deighton thriller. From every angle, corpses with sallow, lost eyes stared down at him.
Maps, diagrams and personnel schedules were arranged in a multicoloured confusion. It all seemed depressingly efficient. That doesn't sound good,' Carl replied, dropping into a seat opposite his boss. Next Friday at 10 a. You remember, right? Her name is Rose. Afterwards he stood outside the homicide chief's door trying to lower his arched brow. It's said that bad news comes in clusters.
Bloody right it does. At work for only five minutes and he'd already been informed that he'd have to serve as mentor for a new employee. Not to mention act as some kind of hand-holding guide for a herd of mountain apes, which he'd happily forgotten all about. The hag didn't glance up from her keyboard.
He knocked lightly on the desk. As if that would help. Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. Whoever invented black dye hadn't lived in vain, he thought. They both had tousled, coal-black and ultra-short hair, with jet-black eyes and sombre, dark clothes. The resemblance was damned uncanny. What happened to you, Lis?
Isn't it pretty? Carl shifted his attention to the other woman, who stood on mile-high heels. She gave him a smile that could have taken anyone down a peg.
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Once again he glanced at Lis, noting the striking likeness between the two women, and wondered whose image had inspired whom. She's been here for a few weeks, cheering us secretaries up with her infectious humour. Now I'll entrust her to you. Take care of her, Carl.
He managed to win a week's reprieve and then he would have to welcome the girl down in Department Q. Right beside Carl's office was the utility closet that housed lengths of traffic spikes and equipment they used to cordon off crime scenes.
Marcus Jacobsen explained how it had already been cleaned and furnished. Rose Knudsen was his new colleague in Department Q, and that was final. Whatever the homicide chief's motives were, Carl didn't like them.
And she's been at Station City for the past year. Then the last few weeks she's been Mrs Sorensen's substitute, who of course is back now. Well, there was some internal hullabaloo. Nothing that relates to us.
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And she's a good one. That's not so nice.
You'll have to say that one more time, Carl. Then he gulped a substance smelling of mint tea that he'd poured into his cup.
The case you put me on top of while you were away, I couldn't get very far with. I looked here and there and all impossible places, but the case files have all gone missing during the moving mess upstairs. Gone missing? No shit? But all right - something good had happened today, after all. But then I looked a little through the piles of folders and found this one.
It's very interesting. As he opened the file, Carl puffed his cheeks with air and slowly exhaled. The case was quite old. Jussi Adler- Olsen made his debut as a non- fiction writer in , and as a fiction writer in The Hanging Girl In the middle of his usual hard- won morning.
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In , he made his debut as a non- fiction writer. The Keeper of Lost Causes is dark, atmospheric, and compelling. Epub 8 torrent download locations thepiratsite. Direct download via HTTP available as well. DMT 8 torrent download locations thepiratsite. Purity is a very enjoyable read- I guessed some of the mystery but not all.
Aus Ober- Ramstadt am Torrent files directly from the indexed sites. Download eBooks by author Jussi Adler- Olsen. Jussi Adler- Olsen: Bei eBook. Jussi Adler- Olsen is a Danish author of Scandinavian crime fiction. Audible Download Audiobooks:. Adler- Olsen, Jussi.The New York Times and internationally bestselling author returns with an astonishing and sinister case for Department Q All fifteen-year-old Marco Jameson wants is to become a Danish citizen and go to school like a normal teenager.
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Carl's nemesis is his new boss, and he's saddled Department Q with an unwelcome addition. Jussi Adler- Olsen. Pogrzebany by Jussi Adler-Olsen Synopsis: When Marco discovers a dead body-'proving the true extent of Zola's criminal activities-'he goes on the run.