Table of Contents
Praise for ALIBI
“A finely plotted thriller. This is like
Love Story
with grisly bits and featuring a team drawn straight from another popular TV show:
CSI
. In a word: labyrinthine.”
—Daily Telegraph and Herald Sun
“Outstanding legal thriller . . . equal, if not better, to those written by more celebrated authors worldwide. Sydney Bauer’s first novel,
Undertow
, won the 2007 Davitt Award for Best Crime Novel—I think
Alibi
is even better.”
—Australian Crime Fiction Database
“There are all sorts of tension-filled dramas going on at the same time, all of which are held together under a tight rein . . . And what an ending. You don’t want me to even hint about it, so there’s little else to say except . . . what an ending!”
—Crime Down Under
“Entertaining reading. Intriguing.”
—Gold Coast Bulletin
“This is a well-written and well-paced thriller with enough twists and turns to keep the most jaded reader in attendance.”
—Sunshine Coast Daily
UNDERTOW
“Bauer (the nom de plume of Australian TV executive Kim berly Scott) credibly navigates multiple segments of Boston society as she fashions a complex plot from simple elements.”
—Publishers Weekly
“An impressive debut. Written with urgency . . . The climaxes and about-turns and surprises just keep coming until the final showdown . . . Watch out, Grisham.”
—The Sydney Morning Herald
“A creditable, enthralling legal suspense drama following firmly in the footsteps of Grisham and Patterson.”
—Good Reading
“
Undertow
is all handled with dexterity and no little style . . . [Bauer’s] locations have the right sense of place, her plotting is economical and concise . . . Bauer is credibly packaged.”
—The Australian
“Bauer has done a Grisham, producing a fast-paced and sus penseful legal thriller.”
—The Melbourne Age
“Sydney Bauer has hit the crime scene in fine style with a legal thriller that is confronting, touching on relevant and controversial issues with absolute confidence. This is the kind of story that legal thriller fans everywhere would eat up with a spoon and then go looking for more.”
—Australian Crime Writers’ Association
“One of the most accomplished Australian crime novels to date. Look out, John Grisham.”
—Sisters in Crime Australia
“A deeply compelling political/legal thriller . . . with a series of ingenious twists.”
—Crime Down Under
“Bauer’s eye for detail never lets her down. Her obviously thorough research is carefully integrated and never just for effect.”
—Bookseller and Publisher Magazine
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
ALIBI
A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Pan Macmillan Australia trade paperback edition / 2008
Jove mass-market edition / August 2009
Copyright © 2008 by Sydney Bauer.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form
without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in
violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
eISBN : 978-1-101-10511-5
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PROLOGUE
Saturday, July 11
The Plaza Hotel, New York
“Once there was a young Japanese princess,” said Jessica Nagoshi, the thick cotton sheets now stretching across her middle as she twisted to meet his eye, “who was picked up by a powerful wave and carried to a deserted island far away from her father’s home.” They were in New York, at the Plaza no less—two of the Ivy League elite, hiding out from the rest of the world in the middle of the busiest city on earth.
“The princess was lonely and sad,” she went on, as James turned his head, his arm now reaching across her shoulders so that he might pull her close. “And wished with all her heart that she would be rescued, but many years passed until someone came to her aid.”
Jessica was prone to stories such as these—simple yet telling tales of Japanese folklore that gave him a rare insight into not so much
what
but
how
this clever, complex girl was thinking.
“Let me guess,” said James then, his green eyes lost in her own deep brown ones, the lamps in their executive suite dimmed but the curtains stretched wide apart so that the room was now flooded with the lights of the city beyond. “It was her knight in shining armor.”
“No, James.” She shook her head, and he realized how much he had grown to love the way she would feign frustration at his simplistic “Western” generalizations. “In fact, there were four warriors who came to her aid—one carrying a sword, one riding a crane, a third astride a tortoise and a fourth holding a cherry blossom and wearing the smile of the gods.”
“ ‘
Rescue me and I shall be your bride
,’ said the princess, after which all four warriors stepped forward to state their case.
“And so the warrior carrying the sword said: ‘
Allow me to rescue you, for I have the strength of minions
,’ while the warrior riding the crane argued, ‘
But I sit upon a crane which will assure us a life of good fortune
,’ and the third man, astride the tortoise, promised the princess good health and longevity, while the fourth remained silent, offering her only a branch of cherry blossom as a symbol of life’s transience.”
“So who did she choose?” asked a now intrigued James, shifting on the mattress so that he might rise onto his elbow.
“The fourth warrior of course,” she said. “The only one who would bring her happiness, no matter how short-lived.”
James frowned then, looking down upon her—at her smooth skin and perfect lips, at her dark almond eyes and long black hair, which fell across the pillow in waves. It had only been two months since they first met, and strangely enough, he felt like he knew everything and nothing about her all at the very same time. She was not like the other girls at Deane—the beautiful, well-connected intellectuals, the daughters of old money and the progressive nouveau riche.
“What are you saying, Jess?” he asked after a time. “That you want me to rescue you? That you want me to offer you that cherry blossom and promise you happiness for as long as it will last? Because if you do, I . . .”
“I do not need to be rescued, James,” she said then, as if he had failed to grasp her point. “But the garden I live in is small.”
“I don’t understand,” he replied. “You of all people have the world at your feet.”