“Lucienne, really—”
He stopped. She had opened her purse, and produced a gun.
“What are you doing, Lucienne?”
Quavering fright in his voice. Rather good, actually. Though the pain helped.
“I want the truth, John.”
“What truth? You’re making all this up.”
“Are you framing me? Are you planning—”
“Lucienne,” he said soothingly, getting up from behind his desk, and walking toward her. “Lucienne, my dear, don’t be silly…”
“Stay away from me.”
She backed off, holding the gun.
“Lucienne, darling, don’t be so suspicious, so absurd…”
“I’m warning you!”
“Lucienne, Lucienne, Lucienne—”
The first shot from the little .22 Derringer hit him in the shoulder, spinning him around to the floor, toppling him, and he thought, Oh, Christ, you missed, you stupid bitch, you missed, can’t you do anything right, you stupid bitch, can’t you even do this?
The next shot penetrated his brain, killing him instantly.
Lucienne stared in horror at the crumpled body and the smoking hot gun in her hand. It had happened so quickly she had not had time to think.
Burgess burst into the room, took it all in, in a glance. “Madam, are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m all right.”
She felt weak, dizzy. She sat in a chair as Burgess bent over Jonathan.
“Is he…”
“Dead,” Burgess said, straightening. He looked at Lucienne.
“Burgess,” she said, “you have worked for me for some time…”
“Yes, madam.”
“I think we can arrange further, very comfortable employment.”
“Madam, I—”
“At a handsome salary, Burgess.”
“Really, I think that—”
“Burgess, name your price.” Her voice was sharp and cold. It stopped him. He hesitated, then smiled. “Shall we say a hundred thousand pounds?”
“Let’s say two hundred.”
“Indeed, madam, that would be most agreeable.”
“Then call the police. Only remember. You never saw me here tonight, you saw a burglar, an unknown man, who was rifling the flat. Understand?”
“You can count on me, madam.”
“I’m sure I can, Burgess.”
She stood to go, and looked toward the doorway.
The maid was standing there, watching them, and looking at the body of Jonathan. Her fist was pressed to her mouth.
She let out one high-pitched scream and ran.
“Burgess. Get her!”
Burgess was too stunned to move.
Lucienne fired at the fleeing girl, but the gun had no accuracy at that range. The maid scampered down the stairs. She flung open the door and ran out into the street, shrieking, “Help! Murder! Police! Help!”
Lucienne ran to follow her, and saw her reach the end of the block, where the frightened girl collided with a bobby.
A moment later, police whistles began to blow.
22. THE VENOM BUSINESS
JANE SAT WITH HIM in the open-air café on High Street, reading the newspaper. It was a bright, cheerful day; the girls were out in their short skirts, walking, talking, being chatted up by the boys.
“Stop staring,” Jane said, without looking up from her newspaper.
“Wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“Wasn’t.”
She turned the page of the paper. “It’s all here,” she said, “all the grisly details.”
“The English love a good murder,” Raynaud said.
“Or two,” she said, “Or three.”
She set the paper aside and looked at him. “Charles,” she said, “were you telling me the truth about all this?”
“Yes.”
“You’re quite sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“Why were you here, at all? Why did you come in the first place?”
“Money,” he said.
“But that doesn’t make sense.”
“It does to me.”
In a quiet voice she said, “I have plenty of money.”
“Yes, but it’s yours. Not mine.”
“It’s legal.”
“So what?” he said, watching a girl with long legs and a Marimekko.
“You mean you really don’t care?”
“Not particularly.”
“Well,” she said, “did you make a lot of money this time?”
“A reasonable amount.”
He hadn’t totaled all the checks yet. But it would probably come to about fifty thousand dollars. Not what it might have been, but still…
“You could be in jail now,” she said, “or dead.”
“But for the grace of God.”
“Charles.” She touched his hand and looked at him seriously. “I wish you wouldn’t be like this.”
“It’s the only way I can be,” he said. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
She accepted it coolly. “I was going to reform you,” she said.
“And I was going to enjoy your attempt.”
“But it won’t work, will it?”
“No,” he said, lighting a cigarette. “It won’t.”
“You’ll never change?”
“Oh, probably I will. When I’m older, and tired.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
A few minutes later, when she got up to leave, she folded her newspaper very carefully and set it down on the table.
“If you ever want to try your hand at catching snakes…” he said.
“Maybe I will,” she said. “Some day.”
“Okay,” he said, nodding.
“Okay,” she said, and walked away, down the street. After a moment she was lost in the crowd of bright young girls in bright cotton dresses. There seemed to be hundreds of girls out that day, all over London. Hundreds of girls.
He felt sad for a moment, and then amused.
And then he laughed.
A Biography of Michael Crichton
Michael Crichton (1942–2008) was a writer and filmmaker, best known as the author of Jurassic Park and the creator of ER. He was born in Chicago, Illinois, and raised in Roslyn, New York, along with his three siblings.
Crichton graduated summa cum laude from Harvard College and received his MD from Harvard Medical School. As an undergraduate, he taught courses in anthropology at Cambridge University. He also taught writing at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.
While at Harvard Medical School, Crichton wrote book reviews for the Harvard Crimson and novels under the pseudonyms John Lange and Jeffery Hudson, among them A Case of Need, which won the Edgar Award for Best Mystery in 1969. In contrast to the carefully researched techno-thrillers that ultimately brought him to fame, the Lange and Hudson books are high-octane novels of suspense and action. Written with remarkable speed and gusto, these novels provided Crichton with both the means to study at Harvard Medical School and the freedom to remain anonymous in case his writing career ended before he obtained his medical degree.
The Andromeda Strain (1969), his first bestseller, was published under his own name. The movie rights for The Andromeda Strain were bought in February of his senior year at Harvard Medical School.
Crichton also pursued an early interest in computer modeling, and his multiple-discriminant analysis of Egyptian crania, carried out on an IBM 7090, was published by the Peabody Museum in 1966.
After graduation, Crichton was a postdoctoral fellow at the Salk Institute for Biological Studies, where he researched public policy with Dr. Jacob Bronowski. He continued to write and published three books in 1970: his first nonfiction book, Five Patients, and two more John Lange titles, Grave Descend and Drug of Choice. He also wrote Dealing or The Berkeley-to-Boston Forty-Brick Lost-Bag Blues with his brother Douglas, and it was later published under the pseudonym Michael Douglas.
<
br /> After deciding to quit medicine and pursue writing full-time, he moved to Los Angeles in 1970, at the age of twenty-eight. In addition to books, he wrote screenplays and pursued directing as well. His directorial feature film Westworld (1973), involving an innovative twist on theme parks, was the first to employ computer-generated special effects.
Crichton continued his technical publications, writing an essay on medical obfuscation published by the New England Journal of Medicine in 1975 and a study of host factors in pituitary chromophobe adenoma published in Metabolism in 1980.
He maintained a lifelong interest in computers and his pioneering use of computer programs for film production earned him an Academy Award for Technical Achievement in 1995. Crichton also won an Emmy, a Peabody, and a Writers Guild of America Award for ER. In 2002, a newly discovered dinosaur of the ankylosaur group was named for him: Crichtonsaurus bohlini.
His groundbreaking, fast-paced narrative combined with meticulous scientific research made him one of the most popular writers in the world. His novels have been translated into thirty-eight languages, and thirteen have been made into films. Known for his techno-thrillers, he has sold more than 200 million books. He also published four nonfiction books, including an illustrated study of artist Jasper Johns, and two screenplays, Twister and Westworld.
Crichton remains the only person to have a number one book, film, and television series in the same year.
He is survived by his wife, Sherri; his daughter, Taylor; and his son, John Michael.
Crichton and his younger brother, Douglas, co-authors of Dealing or The Berkeley-to-Boston Forty-Brick Lost-Bag Blues, which was published under the pseudonym Michael Douglas.
Telegram from Harvard College announcing Crichton’s acceptance, May 4, 1960. (Courtesy of the Office of the General Counsel of Harvard University.)
Lowell House Harvard yearbook photo, 1961. (Courtesy of Harvard Yearbook Publications and Harvard University Archives.)
Crichton as an anthropology major at Harvard College.
“Peabody Papers.” (Reprinted from “A Multiple Discriminant Analysis of Egyptian and African Negro Crania” in Craniometry and Multivirate Analysis, Papers of the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, Vol. 57, No. 1, 1966, courtesy of the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, Harvard University.)
Harvard Crimson article featuring Crichton, March 1969. (Courtesy of the Harvard Crimson.)
Crichton as a postdoctoral fellow at the Salk Institute, 1969.
A photo of Crichton for his memoir Travels.
Crichton hiking while doing research for his novel Micro.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1969 by John Lange
Cover design by Andrea C. Uva
Cover illustration by Omar F. Olivera and Theresa Burke
978-1-4532-9930-2
This edition published in 2013 by Open Road Integrated Media
345 Hudson Street
New York, NY 10014
www.openroadmedia.com
EBOOKS BY MICHAEL CRICHTON
FROM OPEN ROAD MEDIA
Available wherever ebooks are sold
Open Road Integrated Media is a digital publisher and multimedia content company. Open Road creates connections between authors and their audiences by marketing its ebooks through a new proprietary online platform, which uses premium video content and social media.
Videos, Archival Documents, and New Releases
Sign up for the Open Road Media newsletter and get news delivered straight to your inbox.
Sign up now at
www.openroadmedia.com/newsletters
FIND OUT MORE AT
WWW.OPENROADMEDIA.COM
FOLLOW US:
@openroadmedia and
Facebook.com/OpenRoadMedia
Venom Business Page 35