Manuals and free owners instruction pdf guides. Find the user manual and the help you need for the products you own at ManualsOnline. The Hunting Party on Amazon.com.FREE. shipping on qualifying offers. The Hunting Party. Enter your mobile number or email address below and we'll send you a link to download the free Kindle App. Then you can start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer. The Hunting Party By Lucy Foley (PDF/READ) The Hunting Party: A Novel By Lucy Foley THE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER“My favorite kind of whodunit, kept me guessing all the way through, and reminiscent of Agatha Christie at her best - with an extra dose of acid.” - Alex Michaelides, author of the #1 New York Times bestseller The Silent Patient Everyone's invited.everyone's a.76
Line lifted her camera bag from the passenger seat to make room for her father. As
she knew the way to Jonas Ravneberg’s smallholding, they took her car. Wisting sat
with gritted teeth. Jonas Ravneberg had slipped through his net seventeen years earlier.
Cecilia had been held in his cellar for twelve days while they searched in the wrong
places and looked in the wrong direction.
‘Shouldn’t we phone someone?’ Line asked. ‘Police and ambulance? If it’s him, Linnea
Kaupang may have been locked in the cellar for days.’
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‘We’ll wait till we get there,’ Wisting replied.
He tried to make it all fit. Jonas Ravneberg was an anonymous figure, but had appeared
peripherally in both the Cecilia and Ellen cases. Now he had been murdered himself,
shortly after Rudolf Haglund was released and could produce evidence that he had been
unfairly convicted. But he could not quite let go of the idea that Haglund had abducted
and killed Cecilia Linde, though two perpetrators was a rare occurrence in crimes
of a sexual nature.
Line dropped her speed and turned onto the dirt track. The car skidded from side to
side until the tyres gained a grip and she accelerated forward. Dense trees obliterated
the faint dusk light. The rutted tracks of another vehicle ran ahead of them.
‘Are your colleagues still watching Haglund?’ Wisting asked.
Line nodded grimly. ‘I spoke to them just before I got home. He hasn’t stepped outside
the house all day and his car is in the car port.’
Line shifted down a gear, shooting out of the ruts and bumping over something solid.
Wisting hung on to his seatbelt as they slithered towards the ditch, but she pulled
at the steering wheel, the wheels spun and the car swerved back in line. The track
narrowed, bushes scraped the sides; they rounded the final bend and the smallholding
appeared in front of them. A car was parked in the yard, with mud splashes round the
Line took her foot off the accelerator too late. A man standing beside the barn was
caught in their headlights. ‘Frank Robekk,’ Wisting said.
They stepped from the car, leaving the engine running. Robekk raised a hand to shade
his eyes and they saw he was carrying a flashlight. In the other hand he held something
that looked like a gun. ‘Wisting?’
‘What are you doing here, Frank?’
‘There’s something you need to look at.’ What he was carrying was a cordless drill.
‘What are you doing here?’ Wisting repeated.
‘What we should have done seventeen years ago. Searching this place.’ The barn door
was barred and bolted and fresh splinters of wood lay on the ground. Frank pointed
at one of two holes he had drilled, holding his flashlight to the other. ‘Look inside!’
Wisting put his eye to the hole. It was dark inside, and the light from the torch
spread out in a cone shape, striking the rear of a car, three or four metres inside.
Covered in dust, it looked completely grey. The registration plate was missing, but
the light from the torch found the lightning bolt of the circular Opel logo.
‘When I read that someone called Ravneberg had been killed not long after Rudolf Haglund
was released I remembered the name. From the time my niece went missing. Locating
this place was easy, the rest was simply looking.’
‘What is it?’ Line asked.
‘It’s the car,’ Robekk answered. ‘The car he used when he abducted Cecilia Linde.’
Line bent towards the hole to take a look, but Robekk directed the light towards the
shack at the far end of the yard, where the ancient Saab was parked. ‘We blundered
completely,’ he said. ‘The Saab was spotted when Ellen disappeared, but we didn’t
get the significance. We totally fouled up.’
Wisting scanned the yard for something to break open the barn door. ‘I’ve got tools
in my car,’ Robekk said.
He fetched a crowbar from the boot and handed the flashlight to Wisting. The timber,
old and dry, splintered as Robekk dug at the bolt mountings. He threw himself into
twisting and turning so violently that splinters flew in all directions. There was
a crack and the first bolt fell to the ground, then the second. Five minutes later
all the bolts were off. Frank Robekk threw the crowbar aside and pulled open the massive,
double barn door.
Wisting entered behind him. Grains of corn crunched underfoot. Minute particles of
dust danced in the torchlight beam. The stench of straw and manure filled the air.
The barn had a high ceiling, but the space was only wide enough to park a car. Pickaxes,
spades, rakes and other tools were propped along one wall, together with two cartwheels.
On the other side, dry hessian sacks were piled. A ladder led up to the hayloft.
The car was covered with a thick layer of dust, which Wisting was about to wipe away
when he heard a click. A couple of powerful flashes followed and the room was filled
with light. He glanced at Line who was standing just inside the door.
Frank Robekk opened the rear left-hand door of the Opel. A faded air freshener hung
from the mirror. Otherwise everything was clean and tidy. The key was still in the
Wisting walked round the vehicle. It was rusty, as the witness on the tractor had
described, the rust exacerbated by the years spent in the barn. Round the wheel arches,
large patches had flaked off, and the bracket holding one of the side mirrors had
disintegrated so much the mirror hung by a thread. He halted in front of the boot
and pressed his thumb against the button. It was resistant and made a scraping noise
as it slid down, clicked, and opened with a little creak.
Frank Robekk raised the lid.
A bundle of clothes lay neatly folded on the black rubber mat. A short-sleeved sweatshirt,
trousers, minuscule white underpants and a grey sports bra, beside a pair of running
shoes with white socks pushed inside. At several places in the cramped space, rust
had eaten cracks in the metalwork that, even seventeen years ago, would have been
large enough to drop a little Walkman through.
Wisting turned and looked through the barn door to the main house resting squarely
on thick cellar walls.
Hunting Party or The Hunting Party may refer to:
- Hunting party, a group of people organized to hunt wild game
- Mixed hunting party, a group of hunting birds
- Political parties with a pro-hunting platform such as the French Hunting, Fishing, Nature, Tradition
- The Hunting Party (1971 film), a film directed by Don Medford
- The Hunting Party (2007 film), a film directed by Richard Shepard
- Hunting Party (1959 film), a 1959 West German drama film
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- 'Hunting Party' (Body of Proof), a 2011 episode from the TV series Body of Proof
- 'The Hunting Party' (Lost), a 2006 episode from the TV series Lost
- 'The Hunting Party' (Dead Zone), an episode from the TV series The Dead Zone
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- Hunting Party (novel), a novel by Elizabeth Moon
- The Hunting Party (comics) (Partie de chasse), a graphic novel by Pierre Christin and Enki Bilal
- 'The Hunting Party' (Judge Dredd story), a Judge Dredd story
- The Hunting Party (album), the sixth studio album by American rock band Linkin Park
- The Hunting Party (live album), DVD to the sixth studio album by American rock band Linkin Park