4.5
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5,617 ratings
SOON TO BE A MAJOR TELEVISION EVENT FROM NBC, STARRING RUSSELL HORNSBY, ARIELLE KEBBEL, AND MICHAEL IMPERIOLI.
“Lincoln Rhyme is more relentless than ever” (People) and Jeffery Deaver delivers “supercharged tension” (USA TODAY) in this New York Times bestselling suspense masterwork.
NYPD criminalist Lincoln Rhyme joins his beautiful protégée Amelia Sachs, in the hunt for the Coffin Dancer—an ingenious killer who changes his appearance even faster than he adds to his trail of victims. They have only one clue: the madman has a tattoo of the Grim Reaper waltzing with a woman in front of a coffin. Rhyme must rely on his wits and intuition to track the elusive murderer through New York City—knowing they have only forty-eight hours before the Coffin Dancer strikes again.
This is a “heart-stopping” (Booklist) thriller from #1 international bestselling author Jeffery Deaver’s “simply outstanding” (San Jose Mercury News) Lincoln Rhyme series!
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ISBN-10
1982140208
ISBN-13
978-1982140205
Print length
432 pages
Language
English
Publisher
Simon & Schuster
Publication date
September 30, 2019
Dimensions
5.5 x 1 x 8.38 inches
Item weight
12.8 ounces
A fool can throw a stone into a pond that a dozen wise men can’t recover.
Highlighted by 114 Kindle readers
Thomas Perkins, special agent in charge of the Manhattan office of the FBI.
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Men love to look at gorgeous women, but nothing intimidates them more.
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ASIN :
B000FBJH7Q
File size :
3291 KB
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Enabled
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"This is as good as it gets....The Lincoln Rhyme series is simply outstanding." – San Jose Mercury News
"Deaver is a master of ticking-bomb suspense." – People
"Intense and heart-stopping...leaves readers gasping at the stunning climax." – Booklist
"Deaver revs up the already supercharged tension by cramming all of the action in The Coffin Dancer into forty-eight hours." – USA Today
"Revelations and reversals punctuate this thriller like a string of firecrackers....Superb plotting and brisk, no-nonsense prose." – Publishers Weekly
"Quick to the punch, The Coffin Dancer is diabolically packed with the good stuff: coverups, mystery, action." – Library Journal
"Fair warning to newcomers: Author Deaver is just as cunning and deceptive as his killer; don't assume he's run out of tricks until you've run out of pages." – Kirkus Reviews
"Readers who like "insider information" on police and FBI lingo will enjoy details Deaver adds to the dialogue." – St. Petersburg Times
Chapter One
When Edward Carney said good-bye to his wife, Percey, he never thought it would be the last time he'd see her.
He climbed into his car, which was parked in a precious space on East Eighty-first Street in Manhattan, and pulled into traffic. Carney, an observant man by nature, noticed a black van parked near their town house. A van with mud-flecked, mirrored windows. He glanced at the battered vehicle and recognized the West Virginia plates, realizing he'd seen the van on the street several times in the past few days. But then the traffic in front of him sped up. He caught the end of the yellow light and forgot the van completely. He was soon on the FDR Drive, cruising north.
Twenty minutes later he juggled the car phone and called his wife. He was troubled when she didn't answer. Percey'd been scheduled to make the flight with him -- they'd flipped a coin last night for the left-hand seat and she'd won, then given him one of her trademark victory grins. But then she'd wakened at 3 a.m. with a blinding migraine, which had stayed with her all day. After a few phone calls they'd found a substitute copilot and Percey'd taken a Fiorinal and gone back to bed.
A migraine was the only malady that would ground her.
Lanky Edward Carney, forty-five years old and still wearing a military hairstyle, cocked his head as he listened to the phone ringing miles away. Their answering machine clicked on and he returned the phone to the cradle, mildly concerned.
He kept the car at exactly sixty miles per hour, centered perfectly in the right lane; like most pilots he was conservative in his car. He trusted other airmen but thought most drivers were crazy.
In the office of Hudson Air Charters, on the grounds of Mamaroneck Regional Airport, in Westchester, a cake awaited. Prim and assembled Sally Anne, smelling like the perfume department at Macy's, had baked it herself to commemorate the company's new contract. Wearing the ugly rhinestone biplane brooch her grandchildren had given her last Christmas, she scanned the room to make sure each of the dozen or so employees had a piece of devil's food sized just right for them. Ed Carney ate a few bites of cake and talked about tonight's flight with Ron Talbot, whose massive belly suggested he loved cake though in fact he survived mostly on cigarettes and coffee. Talbot wore the dual hats of operations and business manager and he worried out loud if the shipment would be on time, if the fuel usage for the flight had been calculated correctly, if they'd priced the job right. Carney handed him the remains of his cake and told him to relax.
He thought again about Percey and stepped away into his office, picked up the phone.
Still no answer at their town house.
Now concern became worry. People with children and people with their own business always pick up a ringing phone. He slapped the receiver down, thought about calling a neighbor to check up on her. But then the large white truck pulled up in front of the hangar next to the office and it was time to go to work. Six p.m.
Talbot gave Carney a dozen documents to sign just as young Tim Randolph arrived, wearing a dark suit, white shirt, and narrow black tie. Tim referred to himself as a "copilot" and Carney liked that. "First officers" were company people, airline creations, and while Carney respected any man who was competent in the right-hand seat, pretension put him off.
Tall, brunette Lauren, Talbot's assistant, had worn her lucky dress, whose blue color matched the hue of the Hudson Air logo -- a silhouette of a falcon flying over a gridded globe. She leaned close to Carney and whispered, "It's going to be okay now, won't it?"
"It'll be fine," he assured her. They embraced for a moment. Sally Anne hugged him too and offered him some cake for the flight. He demurred. Ed Carney wanted to be gone. Away from the sentiment, away from the festivities. Away from the ground.
And soon he was. Sailing three miles above the earth, piloting a Lear 35A, the finest private jet ever made, clear of markings or insignia except for its N registration number, polished silver, sleek as a pike.
They flew toward a stunning sunset -- a perfect orange disk easing into big, rambunctious clouds, pink and purple, leaking bolts of sunlight.
Only dawn was as beautiful. And only thunderstorms more spectacular.
It was 723 miles to O'Hare and they covered that distance in less than two hours. Air Traffic Control's Chicago Center politely asked them to descend to fourteen thousand feet, then handed them off to Chicago Approach Control.
Tim made the call. "Chicago Approach. Lear Four Niner Charlie Juliet with you at one four thousand."
"Evening, Niner Charlie Juliet," said yet another placid air traffic controller. "Descend and maintain eight thousand. Chicago altimeter thirty point one one. Expect vectors to twenty-seven L."
"Roger, Chicago. Niner Charlie Juliet out of fourteen for eight."
O'Hare is the busiest airport in the world and ATC put them in a holding pattern out over the western suburbs of the city, where they'd circle, awaiting their turn to land.
Ten minutes later the pleasant, staticky voice requested, "Niner Charlie Juliet, heading zero nine zero over the numbers downwind for twenty-seven L."
"Zero nine zero. Nine Charlie Juliet," Tim responded.
Carney glanced up at the bright points of constellations in the stunning gunmetal sky and thought, Look, Percey, it's all the stars of evening...
And with that he had what was the only unprofessional urge of perhaps his entire career. His concern for Percey arose like a fever. He needed desperately to speak to her.
"Take the aircraft," he said to Tim.
"Roger," the young man responded, hands going unquestioningly to the yoke.
Air Traffic Control crackled, "Niner Charlie Juliet, descend to four thousand. Maintain heading."
"Roger, Chicago," Tim said. "Niner Charlie Juliet out of eight for four."
Carney changed the frequency of his radio to make a unicom call. Tim glanced at him. "Calling the Company," Carney explained. When he got Talbot he asked to be patched through the telephone to his home.
As he waited, Carney and Tim went through the litany of the pre-landing check.
"Flaps approach...twenty degrees."
"Twenty, twenty, green," Carney responded.
"Speed check."
"One hundred eighty knots."
As Tim spoke into his mike -- "Chicago, Niner Charlie Juliet, crossing the numbers; through five for four" -- Carney heard the phone start to ring in their Manhattan town house, seven hundred miles away.
Come on, Percey. Pick up! Where are you?
Please...
ATC said, "Niner Charlie Juliet, reduce speed to one eight zero. Contact tower. Good evening."
"Roger, Chicago. One eight zero knots. Evening."
Three rings.
Where the hell is she? What's wrong?
The knot in his gut grew tighter.
The turbofan sang, a grinding sound. Hydraulics moaned. Static crackled in Carney's headset.
Tim sang out, "Flaps thirty. Gear down."
"Flaps, thirty, thirty, green. Gear down. Three green."
And then, at last -- in his earphone -- a sharp click.
His wife's voice saying, "Hello?"
He laughed out loud in relief.
Carney started to speak but, before he could, the aircraft gave a huge jolt -- so vicious that in a fraction of a second the force of the explosion ripped the bulky headset from his ears and the men were flung forward into the control panel. Shrapnel and sparks exploded around them.
Stunned, Carney instinctively grabbed the unresponsive yoke with his left hand; he no longer had a right one. He turned toward Tim just as the man's bloody, rag-doll body disappeared out of the gaping hole in the side of the fuselage.
"Oh, God. No, no..."
Then the entire cockpit broke away from the disintegrating plane and rose into the air, leaving the fuselage and wings and engines of the Lear behind, engulfed in a ball of gassy fire.
"Oh, Percey," he whispered, "Percey..." Though there was no longer a microphone to speak into.
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Jeffery Deaver
Jeffery Deaver is an international number-one bestselling author. His novels have appeared on bestseller lists around the world. His books are sold in 150 countries and translated into over twenty-five languages. He has served two terms as president of Mystery Writers of America, and was recently named a Grand Master of MWA, whose ranks include Agatha Christie, Ellery Queen, Mary Higgins Clark and Walter Mosely.
The author of over forty novels, three collections of short stories and a nonfiction law book, and a lyricist of a country-western album, he’s received or been shortlisted for dozens of awards. His "The Bodies Left Behind" was named Novel of the Year by the International Thriller Writers association, and his Lincoln Rhyme thriller "The Broken Window" and a stand-alone, "Edge," were also nominated for that prize. "The Garden of Beasts" won the Steel Dagger from the Crime Writers Association in England. He’s also been nominated for eight Edgar Awards by the MWA.
Deaver has been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the Bouchercon World Mystery Convention, the Strand Magazine’s Lifetime Achievement Award and the Raymond Chandler Lifetime Achievement Award in Italy.
His book "A Maiden’s Grave" was made into an HBO movie starring James Garner and Marlee Matlin, and his novel "The Bone Collector" was a feature release from Universal Pictures, starring Denzel Washington and Angelina Jolie. Lifetime aired an adaptation of his "The Devil’s Teardrop." NBC television recently aired the nine-episode prime-time series, "Lincoln Rhyme: Hunt for the Bone Collector."
You can find out more about Jeffery on his website www.jefferydeaver.com, Facebook page facebook.com/JefferyDeaver, and follow him on Twitter @JefferyDeaver.
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Customer reviews
4.5 out of 5
5,617 global ratings
Razzle Dazzle - Mary Kerran
5
The Coffin Dancer
Reviewed in the United States on May 25, 2024
Verified Purchase
What a ride. You will not be able to put it down. As as usual, the ending will blow your mind!!!
Gerry Krag
5
Love, love love Lincoln
Reviewed in the United States on August 12, 2024
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Great story with lots of drama. Understanding the ins and outs of the private air line industry adds to this story. Highly recommended.
Kindle Customer
5
This book is an astonishing must read!!
Reviewed in the United States on April 24, 2015
Verified Purchase
The book happens to be the second book of the Lincoln Rhyme series that I’ve read. I enjoyed the first book so much I immediately purchased the second one after finishing it. “The Coffin Dancer,” started a bit slow, but the pace picked up about a quarter of the way into the book. The book wasn’t what I expected, and that is not a bad thing. It’s much different from the first book and that shows the experience, creativity, and versatility of the author, Jeffery Deaver.
Throughout the book I felt as though I was sitting in a movie theater, or I was actually one of the characters. There were several surprises and sudden plot twist that mentally knocked me off balance. They left me asking myself, “How did he do that?” Jeffery Deaver has proven to be an extremely clever author. He is a master of deception.
There are many scenes in the book that held me in suspense for several pages. The suspense caused my heart to race, and my hairs to stand up. In one scene I had to go to the bathroom badly, but I held it until I finished the chapter. I nearly wet myself.
The story takes place in New York City which is where the main character, Lincoln Rhyme’s office/home is located. The location made the book even better for me. Being a native New Yorker I had a very good mental picture of the scenery. Lincoln Rhymes office/home is just across the street from the famous, historical Central Park.
I didn’t feel sorry for Lincoln Rhyme in this book as I did for him in the first book of the series. There weren’t any tear jerking scenes concerning his situation. Lincoln Rhyme is a quadriplegic. Lincoln Rhyme is a brilliant criminalist, and he is well rounded, but like most men he can’t figure women out. Rhyme didn’t seem to do as much detailed investigations as he did in the first book, but it took nothing away from the book. The investigations that he did was so detailed I’m inclined to believe Jeffery Deaver has a homicide detective helping him with his work.
I fell in love with Rhyme’s partner Amelia Sachs in the first book. Although, I am still in love with Amelia I have reason to believe she has cheated on me in this book. Amelia didn’t seem to be as introverted in this book as she was in the first book. I got to know Amelia a little better in this book; I saw the real Amelia Sachs. She did all the things a typical women that is in love would do. I saw Amelia’s Jealousy and temper tantrums. Amelia is an extraordinary women. She’s a courageous sharp shooter, and she is becoming a good criminalist. Amelia actually solved some of the puzzles in the investigations by herself. I love the way the author revealed how she has developed in time.
The sub characters seemed to be more involved in this story then the first one. Fred Dellray, a federal detective was a character in a plot twist that left me scratching my head. Detective Bell was involved in a suspenseful, nerve racking shoot out with the villain.
There were a few farfetched scenes; I won’t spoil it for you. I’ll just say, “There’s no way it could have happened like that.” At one point the characters were in trouble while on an air plane. In order for me to get a good understanding of the amount of trouble the characters were in I would have had to have had some aviation knowledge, and be quick with arithmetic. I was confused. I had to stop and do the math several times. That took a lot away from the story. At that point I was prepared to give the story three stars.
Near the end of the story when I found out who the villain in the story was I forgot all about the arithmetic, aviation, and farfetched scenes. I sat there in front of my kindle with my jaw slacked, and eye lids wide open in surprise. I had to give the two stars back. Jeffery Deaver is a brilliant author. I just want to shake his hand.
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16 people found this helpful
Paul S. Person
5
Twisty
Reviewed in the United States on February 1, 2024
Verified Purchase
Time has moved on from the first book, and our hero is re-established as a forensic investigator. When his past comes back in the form of a prior adversary, the Coffin Dancer, he pulls out all the stops. The story is exciting, the characters are intriguing, and the finale is a complete shock. Enjoy!
Judith T.
5
the Collin Dancer
Reviewed in the United States on April 26, 2024
Verified Purchase
Second time I read this and was surprised how much I forgot, I read it too fast the first time trying to get to the end but Jeffery Deaver books are like red wind, take your time twirl the red liquid, take a small sip hold it in your mouth and notice the notes. Guess I should reread more of his books.
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