Articles liés à The Deliverance of Evil
L'édition de cet ISBN n'est malheureusement plus disponible.
Afficher les exemplaires de cette édition ISBN
Extrait :
On the referee’s final whistle, tens of thousands were already in the streets. In a few minutes the traffic was jammed solid, people sitting on car roofs shouting with joy, waving flags, sounding air horns, and beating drums. Columns of red, white, and green smoke were everywhere; the night was painted with the national colors.
Amid this deafening racket, the telephone rang. While Angelo went to answer it, I had an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Alberto looked at me.
“If she hasn’t showed up, you’d better get over there right away.”
His tone was calm, but forceful, leaving no room for argument. It was the same tone my father used when I was little. You must learn to be more responsible, Michele.
“The cardinal says we have to get back there with the office keys.”
Angelo was less drunk now, and more worried.
It was no longer possible to go in the car with the uproar unleashed on the streets, but the complex was fairly close by, so we walked through the celebrating crowds, pushed and shoved by everyone and pushing and shoving everyone back in turn. It was a ridiculous situation: in the middle of the most unbridled joy, there we were like two drunken branches battered left and right in the wind.
It took us twenty minutes. I was in a state of near delirium about the glorious victory and the probable hook-up with Cristiana. The thought of Elisa only crept in every once in a while.
Cardinal Alessandrini and Elisa’s mother were waiting for us. She looked hopeful. We went straight to Building B. Elisa’s window was closed, though the flower still sat on the windowsill. Alessandrini was very tense; Angelo was white as a sheet. The office door was double-locked, as it was supposed to be. Angelo’s hand trembled from tension and alcohol as he opened it. I told everyone to stay out, but the cardinal objected.
Revue de presse :
Amid this deafening racket, the telephone rang. While Angelo went to answer it, I had an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Alberto looked at me.
“If she hasn’t showed up, you’d better get over there right away.”
His tone was calm, but forceful, leaving no room for argument. It was the same tone my father used when I was little. You must learn to be more responsible, Michele.
“The cardinal says we have to get back there with the office keys.”
Angelo was less drunk now, and more worried.
It was no longer possible to go in the car with the uproar unleashed on the streets, but the complex was fairly close by, so we walked through the celebrating crowds, pushed and shoved by everyone and pushing and shoving everyone back in turn. It was a ridiculous situation: in the middle of the most unbridled joy, there we were like two drunken branches battered left and right in the wind.
It took us twenty minutes. I was in a state of near delirium about the glorious victory and the probable hook-up with Cristiana. The thought of Elisa only crept in every once in a while.
Cardinal Alessandrini and Elisa’s mother were waiting for us. She looked hopeful. We went straight to Building B. Elisa’s window was closed, though the flower still sat on the windowsill. Alessandrini was very tense; Angelo was white as a sheet. The office door was double-locked, as it was supposed to be. Angelo’s hand trembled from tension and alcohol as he opened it. I told everyone to stay out, but the cardinal objected.
'[A] passionate portrayal of a corrupt and criminal Italy, from seedy traffickers to the Vatican' The Times. (The Times)
'One of those rare novels that brings together the best elements of literature ... and a nonstop thriller that drives readers relentlessly from first page to last' Jeffery Deaver. (Jeffery Deaver)
'Utterly compelling' Peter May. (Peter May)
'One of those rare novels that brings together the best elements of literature ... and a nonstop thriller that drives readers relentlessly from first page to last' Jeffery Deaver. (Jeffery Deaver)
'Utterly compelling' Peter May. (Peter May)
Les informations fournies dans la section « A propos du livre » peuvent faire référence à une autre édition de ce titre.
- Éditeurriverrun
- Date d'édition2014
- ISBN 10 1848664648
- ISBN 13 9781848664647
- ReliureBroché
- Nombre de pages640
- Evaluation vendeur
(Aucun exemplaire disponible)
Chercher: Créez une demandeSi vous ne trouvez pas un livre sur AbeBooks, nous le rechercherons automatiquement pour vous parmi les livres quotidiennement ajoutés au catalogue.
Créez une demande