It all begins on a Monday, when four people board an elevator in a Manhattan ofﬁce tower. Each presses a button for their ﬂoor, but the elevator proceeds, nonstop, to the top. Once there it pauses for a few seconds, but the doors don't open. Instead, the elevator begins to descend ﬂoor-by-ﬂoor. Then it plummets.
Right to the bottom of the shaft.
It appears to be a random accident... But on Tuesday, it happens again, in a different Manhattan skyscraper. And then Wednesday brings yet another tragic high-rise catastrophe. In only three days, one of the most vertical cities in the world — and the nation's capital of media, ﬁnance and entertainment — is plunged into chaos.
Clearly, this is anything but random. This is a cold, calculated bid to terrorize the city. And it's succeeding. Fearing for their lives, thousands of men and women working in ofﬁces across the city refuse to leave their homes. Commerce has slowed to a trickle. Emergency calls to the top ﬂoors of apartment towers go unanswered.
Who is behind this? Why are they doing it? Are these deadly acts of sabotage somehow connected to a ﬁngerless body found on the High Line? Two seasoned New York detectives and a straight-shooting journalist race against time to uncover the truth before the city's newest, and tallest, residential tower has its ribbon-cutting on Friday night. (From Doubleday Canada)
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From the book
Stuart Bland figured if he posted himself close to the elevators, there was no way he could miss Sherry D'Agostino.
He knew she arrived at the offices of Cromwell Entertainment, which were on the thirty-third floor of the Lansing Tower, on Third between Fifty-Ninth and Sixtieth, every morning between 8:30 and 8:45. A car was sent to her Brooklyn Heights address each day to bring her here. No taxi or subway for Sherry D'Agostino, Cromwell's vice president of creative.
Stuart glanced around nervously. A FedEx ID tag he'd swiped a couple of years ago when he worked at a dry cleaner got him past security. That, and the FedEx cardboard envelope he was clutching, and the FedEx shirt and ball cap he had bought online. He kep tthe visor low on his forehead. There was every reason to believe the security desk had been handed his mug shot and been advised to keep an eye out for him. D'Agostino — no relation to the New York grocery chain — knew his name, and it'd be easy enough to grab a picture of him off his Facebook page.
From Doubleday Canada by Linwood Barclay ©2019. Published by Doubleday.
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