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Nemesis: A Harry Hole thriller (Oslo Sequence 2)
 
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Nemesis: A Harry Hole thriller (Oslo Sequence 2) [Format Kindle]

Jo Nesbo , Don Bartlett
4.0 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (2 commentaires client)

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Descriptions du produit

Extrait

Part I



1
The Plan
I’m going to die. And it makes no sense. That wasn’t the plan, not my plan, anyway. I may have been heading this way all the time without realising. It wasn’t my plan. My plan was better. My plan made sense.

I’m staring down the muzzle of a gun and I know that’s where it will come from. The messenger of death. The ferryman. Time for a last laugh. If you can see light at the end of the tunnel, it may be a spit of flame. Time for a last tear. We could have turned this life into something good, you and I. If we had followed the plan. One last thought. Everyone asks what the meaning of life is, but no one asks about the meaning of death.



2
The Astronaut
The old man reminded Harry of an astronaut. The comical short steps, the stiff movements, the dead, black eyes and the shoes shuffling along the parquet floor. As if he were frightened to lose contact with the ground and float away into space.

Harry looked at the clock on the white wall above the exit. 15.16. Outside the window, in Bogstadveien, the Friday crowds hurry past. The low October sun is reflected in the wing mirror of a car driving away in the rush hour.

Harry concentrated on the old man. Hat plus elegant grey overcoat in dire need of a clean. Beneath it: tweed jacket, tie and worn grey trousers with a needle-sharp crease. Polished shoes, down at the heel. One of those pensioners of whom Majorstuen seems to be full. This wasn’t conjecture. Harry knew that August Schulz was eighty-one years old and an ex-clothes retailer who had lived all his life in Majorstuen, apart from a period he spent in Auschwitz during the War. And the stiff knees were the result of a fall from a Ringveien footbridge which he used on his daily visits to his daughter. The impression of a mechanical doll was reinforced by the fact that his arms were bent perpendicularly at the elbow and thrust forward. A brown walking stick hung over his right forearm and his left hand gripped a bank giro he was holding out for the short-haired young man at position number 2. Harry couldn’t see the face of the cashier, but he knew he was staring at the old man with a mixture of sympathy and irritation.

It was 15.17 now, and finally it was August Schulz’s turn.

Stine Grette sat at position number 1, counting out 730 Norwegian kroner for a boy in a blue woollen hat who had just given her a money order. The diamond on the ring finger of her left hand glistened as she placed each note on the counter.

Harry couldn’t see, but he knew that in front of position number 3 there was a woman with a pram, which she was rocking, probably to distract herself, as the child was asleep. The woman was waiting to be served by fru Brænne, who was loudly explaining to a man on the telephone that he couldn’t charge someone else’s account unless the account holder had signed an agreement to that effect. She also informed him that she worked in the bank, and he didn’t, so on that note perhaps they should bring the discussion to a close.

At that moment the door opened and two men, one tall, the other short, wearing the same overalls, strode into the bank. Stine Grette looked up. Harry checked his watch and began to count. The men ran over to the corner where Stine was sitting. The tall man moved as if he were stepping over puddles, while the little one had the rolling gait of someone who has acquired more muscle than he can accommodate. The boy in the blue hat turned slowly and began to walk towards the exit, so preoccupied with counting money that he didn’t see the two men.

‘Hello,’ the tall man said to Stine, banging down a black case on the counter. The little one pushed his reflector sunglasses in place, walked forward and deposited an identical case beside it. ‘Money!’ he said in a high-pitched squeak. ‘Open the door!’

*
It was like pressing the pause button: all movement in the bank froze. The only indication that time hadn’t stood still was the traffic outside the window. And the second hand on the clock, which now showed that ten seconds had passed. Stine pressed a button under her desk. There was a hum of electronics, and the little man pressed the counter door against the wall with his knee.

‘Who’s got the key?’ he asked. ‘Quick, we haven’t got all day!’

‘Helge!’ Stine shouted over her shoulder.

‘What?’ The voice came from inside the open door of the only office in the bank.

‘We’ve got visitors, Helge!’

A man with a bow tie and reading glasses appeared.

‘These gentlemen want you to open the ATM, Helge,’ Stine said.

Helge Klementsen stared vacantly at the two men dressed in overalls, who were now on his side of the counter. The tall one glanced nervously at the front door while the little one had his eyes fixed on the branch manager.

‘Oh, right. Of course,’ Helge gasped, as if he had just remembered a missed appointment, and burst into a peal of frenetic laughter.

Harry didn’t move a muscle; he simply let his eyes absorb every detail of their movements and gestures. Twenty-five seconds. He continued to look at the clock above the door, but from the corner of his eye he could see the branch manager unlocking the ATM from the inside, taking out two oblong metal dispensers and handing them over to the two men. The whole thing took place at high speed and in silence. Fifty seconds.

‘These are for you, pop!’ The little man had taken two similar metal dispensers from his case and held them out for Helge. The branch manager swallowed, nodded, took them and slotted them into the ATM.

‘Have a good weekend!’ the little one said, straightening his back and grabbing the case. One and a half minutes.

‘Not so fast,’ Helge said.

The little one stiffened.

Harry sucked in his cheeks and tried to concentrate.

‘The receipt . . .’ Helge said.

For one protracted moment the two men stared at the small, grey-haired branch manager. Then the little one began to laugh. Loud, reedy laughter with a piercing, hysterical overtone, the way people on speed laugh. ‘You don’t think we were going to leave here without a signature, do you? Hand over two million without a receipt!’

‘Well,’ Helge said. ‘One of you almost forgot last week.’

‘There are so many new bods on deliveries at the moment,’ the little one said, as he and Helge signed and exchanged yellow and pink forms.

Harry waited for the front door to close again before looking at the clock once more. Two minutes and ten seconds.

Through the glass in the door he could see the white Nordea security van drive away.
Conversations between the people in the bank resumed. Harry didn’t need to count, but he still did. Seven. Three behind the counter and four in front, including the baby and the man in overalls who had just come in and was standing by the table in the middle of the room, writing his account number on a payment slip. Harry knew it was for Sunshine Tours.

‘Good afternoon,’ August Schulz said and began to shuffle in the direction of the front door.
The time was exactly 15.21.10, and that was the moment the whole thing started.


When the door opened, Harry saw Stine Grette’s head bob up from her papers and drop down. Then she raised her head again, slowly this time. Harry’s attention moved to the front door. The man who had come in had already pulled down the zip of his boiler suit and whipped out a black-and-olive-green AG3. A navy blue balaclava completely covered his face, apart from his eyes. Harry started to count from zero.

The balaclava began to move where the mouth would have been, like a Bigfoot doll: ‘This is a hold-up. Nobody move!’

He hadn’t raised his voice, but in the small, compact bank building it was as if a cannon had gone off. Harry studied Stine. Above the distant drone of traffic he could hear the smooth click of greased metal as the man cocked the gun. Her left shoulder sank, almost imperceptibly.

Brave girl, Harry thought. Or maybe just frightened out of her wits. Aune, the psychology lecturer at Oslo Police College, had told them that when people are frightened enough they stop thinking and act the way they have been programmed. Most bank employees press the silent robbery alarm almost in shock, Aune maintained, citing post-robbery debriefings where many could not remember whether they had activated the alarm or not. They had been on autopilot. In just the same way as a bank robber has programmed himself to shoot anyone trying to stop him, Aune said. The more frightened the bank robber is, the less chance anyone has of making him change his mind. Harry was rigid as he tried to fix on the bank robber’s eyes. Blue.

The robber unhitched a black holdall and threw it over the counter. The man in black took six paces to the counter door, perched on the top edge and swung his legs over to stand directly behind Stine, who was sitting still with a vacant expression. Good, Harry thought. She knows her instructions; she is not provoking a reaction by staring at the robber.

The man pointed the barrel of the gun at Stine’s neck, leaned forward and whispered in her ear.
She hadn’t panicked yet, but Harry could see Stine’s chest heaving; her fragile frame seemed to be struggling for air under the now very taut white blouse. Fifteen seconds.
She cleared her throat. Once. Twice. Finally her vocal cords came to life:

‘Helge. Keys for the ATM.’ The voice was low and hoarse, com­pletely unrecognisable from the one which had articulated almost the same words three minutes earlier.

Harry couldn’t see him, but he knew that Helge had heard what the robbe...

Revue de presse

"This tale of revenge has twists galore, and enough humanity in it to keep it grounded... A master at work" (Time Out)

"A superb novel. Intricate, truly gripping plot...elegant simplicity. Bravo! - as they say in Norway" (Evening Standard)

"Nesbo's storytelling abilities are incomparable" (USA Today)

"Many authors know how to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Jo Nesbo's one of the few who keeps them there" (Linwood Barclay)

"Nesbo sets a cracking pace... A series of spectacular plot twists leads to a thrilling finale. Highly recommended" (Guardian)

Détails sur le produit

  • Format : Format Kindle
  • Taille du fichier : 924 KB
  • Nombre de pages de l'édition imprimée : 482 pages
  • Pagination - ISBN de l'édition imprimée de référence : 0307355756
  • Editeur : Vintage Digital (1 avril 2010)
  • Vendu par : Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ASIN: B003QXMYVG
  • Synthèse vocale : Activée
  • X-Ray :
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 4.0 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (2 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: n°21.756 dans la Boutique Kindle (Voir le Top 100 dans la Boutique Kindle)
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Commentaires client les plus utiles
3.0 étoiles sur 5 un bon cru 11 avril 2014
Format:Format Kindle|Achat vérifié
Des multiples changements et un fin surprenant. Nesbo est toujours aussi agréable à lire. Heureusement qu'il y en a encore pas mal à lire!
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5.0 étoiles sur 5 Nemesis 8 octobre 2013
Format:Broché|Achat vérifié
Great book received promptly in good nick, five stars well merited.
I I I I I I I I I
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Commentaires client les plus utiles sur Amazon.com (beta)
Amazon.com: 4.2 étoiles sur 5  492 commentaires
135 internautes sur 144 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Kindle version missing a page 22 septembre 2011
Par Jennifer Grace Dawson - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Format Kindle|Achat vérifié
I hate leaving a review like this because it has nothing to do with the quality of writing, which I find compelling and evocative. The Kindle edition is missing page 261 (which is the beginning of the last chapter in a section and therefore almost the worst possible page to miss). I looked all over Amazon's site and could not find a means to report this so here it is, for all to see.

Buyer beware of the missing "page"!
165 internautes sur 180 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 "What he no longer had was a conscience he could live with." 6 octobre 2010
Par Michael J. Ettner - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié
[NOTE added 09/07/2013:] - Because of a coding error on Amazon's part, Amazon has merged the customer reviews of Jo Nesbo's detective novel, "Nemesis", with the customer reviews of Philip Roth's "Nemesis." This affects both books' product pages and it is confusing to potential readers of each book. Amazon is aware of the snafu but hasn't yet corrected the problem. The review below relates to Philip Roth's "Nemesis".]

One thing the prospective reader may want to know is that Philip Roth's "Nemesis" is an old-fashioned novel. The book has the glow of a twilit, though painful, reminiscence. It is set in the Jewish Weequahic section of Newark during the war year of 1944. Roth imagines the community suffering through a devastating polio epidemic that cruelly maims and kills its youngest members. The protagonist is Bucky Cantor, a young man, a stalwart common man, whose decision whether to remain at or abandon his post as summer playground director will have fateful consequences.

Very early in his career Roth sent to Saul Bellow a draft of a short story he was trying to get published, asking for comments and advice. Bellow replied: "My reaction to your story was on the positive side of the scale, strongly. But mixed, too. I liked the straightness of it, the plainness." A half century later, Roth's new novel respects Bellow's preference. Direct, straight and plain, "Nemesis" unfolds in a manner you may not immediately associate with Roth. It is as if, having chosen to set his tale in the mid-twentieth century, Roth decided to set aside the signature style and quirks he's perfected in the last few decades, and, instead, hark back to the American literature of that earlier period, embracing its feel and direction. For me, that embrace is one of the pleasures of this short novel.

The straightforward narrative of "Nemesis," which follows the traditional path of exposition, rising action, conflict, and aftermath, eschews the inventive and experimental course Roth took in some ambitious novels of the 1980's and 1990's, notably "The Counterlife" and "Operation Shylock." The surprisingly plain voice of the new novel, narrated not by some maniacally garrulous Nathan Zuckerman type, but by an even-tempered, practical-minded witness (who later reveals himself to have been one of the Newark child polio survivors) imparts a classic balance to the proceedings. Also un-Roth-like is the absence of ethnic satire (the Jewish community is lovingly portrayed). Readers expecting to encounter Roth's comical eye for the worst in people, a celebration of joyous rebellion, a sexual adventurousness, will be disappointed. Also, though fulminating anger abounds (Bucky repeatedly shakes his fist at a God "who spends too much time killing children"), that energy may not be enough to change the final verdict of some readers who will find the book lackluster and timid.

In its style (simple and earnest) and in its themes, "Nemesis" reminds me of the classic mid-20th century American fiction that has long been a staple of high school English classes -- especially the books, stories and plays featuring common men, ordinary Joes, who meet tragic ends. "Nemesis" shares with Steinbeck's "The Pearl," Hemingway's "The Old Man and the Sea," and Thornton Wilder's "The Bridge of San Luis Rey," the theme of the vicissitudes of fate and the contingency of our existence. Roth shares with those authors and their social realist contemporaries -- the writers who commanded the stage when he was young -- an interest in the way the world at large shapes our private lives, and how accidental forces shape individual destiny. If you still have a fondness for those books -- maybe because they were the vehicles through which you first learned to read intensely and interpret critically -- then you are bound to like "Nemesis."

"Nemesis" is unafraid to tackle the moral dimensions of our actions and lives. By book's end we have come to realize all of us are carriers of disease -- "bringers of crippling and death" -- if not in a literal sense then in the form of anger, suspicion, self-pity, greed and selfishness. Roth raises anew the old questions: What is our responsibility to our fellows? Are we all to blame? One is reminded of Arthur Miller, especially the stark examination of these issues in his play, "Incident at Vichy," set in World War II. Are we left with the impossible choice between either resigning ourselves to the suffering of others or taking on a responsibility whose dimensions doom us to failure?

Time will tell, but "Nemesis" could emerge as the one classic Roth novel all should read.
64 internautes sur 69 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Gritty European Police Series Continues 26 janvier 2009
Par Brian Baker - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié
In the tradition of the great European crime novels like "The Laughing Policeman", "Smilla's Sense of Snow" and Philip Kerr's Bernie Gunther series, Nesbo continues with his Harry Hole novels in this terrific new entry.

Hole, struggling with his alcoholism as well as his new love relationship and the death of his partner, finds himself caught up in trying to solve a murderous bank robbery while trying to convince his superiors that his partner's death is - contrary to their belief - still unsolved and that he should be allowed to pursue an investigation into it.

This is a compelling entry in the series, with rich characterizations and impeccable plotting.

The only thing that readers should be aware of is that the novels of the series published in English thus far have been translated and published out of sequence; this is actually the second book of the series, though it's come out in English third, and the plot line about his partner's murder was resolved in the third book - which was actually the first one published in English (The Devil's Star). Did you follow that?

If so, dig in and enjoy.
68 internautes sur 74 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Hard Boiled Crime Fiction - Served Cold 14 janvier 2009
Par Gary Griffiths - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié
If you're a fan of complex police drama, intelligenty written and cleverly crafted, then the talented Norwegian author Jo Nesbo's crime fiction should find a place on your bookshelf. "Nemesis" is the third English translation of Nesbo's tales of Oslo police inspector Harry Hole, chronologically fitting in between the two previous US releases, "The Redbreast" and "The Devil's Star" - both excellent and well worth finding and reading.

"Nemesis" starts with Hole painstakingly reviewing the surveillance video of an Oslo bank robbery that escalates to murder at the hand of the coldly proficient perp, an obvious professional who leaves nothing to chance, his face concealed with a baklava, his voice unprintable, no fingerprints, no fibers, few clues of any kind to crack the case. But from Jo Nesbo's pen, a mere bank robbery, even if seemingly unsolvable, is pedestrian. So to compensate, the author spins multiple and apparently disconnected story lines into hapless Harry's investigation and life, resulting in a near epic tale of crime that, while a bit confusing at times, is exactly the kind of convoluted crime mystery that will keep you glued to the pages, scratching your head, and by the end marveling through an expected series of whiplashing twists and Holmes-like deductive reasoning.

So back to those parallel threads. With Harry's beloved Rackel and son Olav off to Moscow to settle an ugly child custody case, Harry reluctantly succumbs to an almost-innocent dinner invitation of Anna, an ex-lover. The next morning, Harry awakes in what is apparently an alcohol-induced blackout with no memory of events of the previous twelve hours. This becomes a rather inconvenient issue when Anna is found dead in her apartment the next morning. While chasing down leads to the bank heist with criminologist Beate Lonn, Harry surreptitiously probes the death of Anna which, while ruled a suicide by the Oslo PD, Harry finds nagging incongruities, keeping them to himself but wanting the truth. While the introverted Beate Lonn pulls critical bank job clues from grainy video, Harry's solo investigative efforts into Anna's death wind their way into the mysterious and potentially deadly gypsy culture, including the most intriguing relationship between cop and incarcerated villain since "Silence of the Lamb's" Clarice Starling sparred with the brilliantly demented Hannibal Lecter.

Nesbo rises above the pack in crime writing with convincing characters and unusual themes, set against an appropriately gritty, dark, and dank Scandinavian backdrop. Hole is the interesting but not uncommon pulp cop - an alcoholic, a loaner an unrepentant maverick, the bane and joy of his beleaguered boss's professional life. But the real magic here is Nesbo's painstaking attention to detail and plot development, a master of foreshadow and deception, hiding critical clues for the reader in the most unlikely places, while building momentum for a climax as cerebral as it was suspenseful.

One final recommendation: if you haven't read any of Nesbo's Harry Hole novels, it would be best to start with "Redbreast", followed by this one, saving "The Devil's Star" for last. While each novel does stand on its own, Nesbo has the fiendishly clever habit of leaving some unfinished threads in each of these tales, so reading them out of sequence can be a bit unsettling. In any event, just do yourself a favor and subject yourself to the not-so-guilty pleasures of this accomplished crime writer.
73 internautes sur 81 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 The Strangeness of Fate 5 octobre 2010
Par Tyler Jones - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié
Philip Roth reimagines history like no other author alive. He takes true events and displaces them, adding his own blend of imagination and plausibility.
Though "Nemesis" is placed in the same category in Roth's bibliography as "Everyman", "Indignation", and "The Humbling", it actually falls closer to "The Plot Against America" in terms of plot and style.

There was no polio epidemic in New Jersey in 1945, but Roth imagines one, and then proceeds to tell us of its devastating effects, not just on those stricken with the disease, but also a young man who witnesses these events. Bucky Cantor is a twenty-three year Physical Education teacher, and unlike some of Roth's other heros, is not a tormented intellectual, but rather a solid individual, truly injured at what is happening to the children around him. Gradually, as the epidemic spreads, Bucky begins asking himself questions for which there are no answers.

This is one of the first books in which some of Philip Roth's infamous outrage is directed at the divine. In past novels, it is almost always men and women (usually women) who are the source of the protagonist's crises. But this time, the nemesis is a disease, a germ which cannot be killed at this point in history. It is nameless, faceless, and silent. Roth recognizes that we as human beings require an enemy, someone to blame for the inexplicable happenings in our lives. Who better than God to point the finger at when young children, not old enough to yet be stained by guilt, are ravaged by pain and then die? There is an extremely powerful passage that takes place at a funeral in which Bucky begins to harbor his doubt of the Almighty.

Rather than summarize the plot, I will say that Fate in this novel is a blood hound on the scent of our young hero. A sensitive man who cannot understand why God would allow such suffering.

In the later short novels, Roth has been a writer obsessed with Death and its various forms, both self inflicted and random. How we view life through the lens of impending Death is the subject of "Nemesis" - an apt title considering the hero is uncertain who the enemy is. Is it God, Fate, himself, the disease? Or is it simply Life, that chews us up and spits us out, mindful of no one?

The prose, as always, is some of the most precise in the English language. Roth is an author sure of himself and his abilities and "Nemesis" is a worthy addition to the Roth cannon.
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