Robert Crais - Joe Pike 02 The First Rule
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Table of Contents
ALSO BY ROBERT CRAIS
Chasing Darkness
The Watchman
The Two Minute Rule
The Forgotten Man
The Last Detective
Hostage
Demolition Angel
L.A. Requiem
Indigo Slam
Sunset Express
Voodoo River
Free Fall
Lullaby Town
Stalking the Angel
The Monkeys Raincoat
G. P. PUTNAMS SONS
Publishers Since 1838
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York,
New York 10014, USA Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East,
Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin
Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephens Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of
Penguin Books Ltd) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road,
Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia
Group Pty Ltd) Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre,
Panchsheel Park, New Delhi-110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ),
67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division
of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd,
24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Copyright 2010 by Robert Crais
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed
in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or
encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors rights. Purchase only
authorized editions.
Published simultaneously in Canada
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Crais, Robert.
The first rule / by Robert Crais.
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-16328-3
1. Pike, Joe (Fictitious character)Fiction. 2. Cole, Elvis (Fictitious
character)Fiction. 3. Married peopleCrimes againstFiction.
4. Home invasionCaliforniaWestwoodFiction. 5. Drug trafficCaliforniaLos
AngelesFiction. 6. Private investigators
CaliforniaLos AngelesFiction. I. Title.
PS3553.R264F
813.54dc22
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
http://us.penguingroup.com
for my friend,
Harlan Ellison,
whose work, more than any other,
brought me to this place.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Pat Crais, Aaron Priest, Neil Nyren, Ivan Held, and Tim Hely Hutchinson. Jon Wood, Susan Lamb, and Malcolm Edwards. Eileen Hutton. Mark and Diane, for taking the Egg. Gregg and Delinah. Jeffrey Lanebecause hes cool. Frank, Toni. Bill Tanner, Brad Johnson, Lynne Limp. Damon and Kate, as always. The Plum Brothers: Alan Night Train Brennert, William F. Slow Hand Wu, Michael Bardwulf Toman, and Michael Fastball Cassutt. Otto. Shelby Rotolo. Eileen Bickhambecause I care. Chip, Gene, Roger, and Joenow I know. Stan Robinson. Gregory Frost. Tim Campbell. Lois, Vic, Coop, Biljon, Mike A, and Mike B. Jerry. April. Don Westlake. Betsy Little, Steve Volpe.
All of them helped.
The organized criminal gangs from the fifteen republics of the former Soviet Union are governed by what they call the Vorovskoy Zakonthe thieves codewhich is comprised of eighteen written rules. The first rule is this:
A thief must forsake his mother, father, brothers, and sisters. He must not have a familyno wife, no children. We are his family.If any of the eighteen rules are broken, the punishment is death.
Please
Please
Please
Someone be that hard thing
For me
DECONSTRUCTED CHILD
FRANK MEYER CLOSED HIS COMPUTER as the early winter darkness fell over his home in Westwood, California, not far from the UCLA campus. Westwood was an affluent area on the Westside of Los Angeles, resting between Beverly Hills and Brentwood in a twine of gracious residential streets and comfortable, well-to-do homes. Frank Meyermore surprised about it than anyone else, considering his backgroundlived in such a home.
Work finished, Frank settled back in his home office, listening to his sons crash through the far side of the house like baby rhinos. They made him happy, and so did the rich scent of braising beef that promised stew or boeuf bourguignon , which he never pronounced correctly but loved to eat. Voices came from the family room, too far away to make out the program, but almost certainly the sound of a game show on television. Cindy hated the nightly news.
Frank smiled because Cindy didnt much care for game shows, either, but she liked the background sound of the TV when she cooked. Cindy had her ways, that was for sure, and her ways had changed his life. Here he was with a lovely home, a growing business, and a wonderful familyall of it owed to his wife.
Frank teared up, thinking how much he owed that woman. Frank was like that, sentimental and emotional, and had always been that way. As Cindy liked to say, Frank Meyer was just a big softy, which is why she fell in love with him.
Frank worked hard to live up to her expectations, and considered it a privilegebeginning eleven years ago when he realized he loved her and committed to reinventing himself. He was now a successful importer of garments from Asia and Africa, which he resold to wholesale chains throughout the United States. He was forty-three years old, still fit and strong, though not so much as in the old days. Okay, wellhe was getting fat, but between his business and the kids, Frank hadnt touched the weights in years, and rarely used the treadmill. When he did, his efforts lacked the zeal that had burned fever-hot in his earlier life.
Frank didnt miss that life, never once, and if he sometimes missed the men with whom he had shared it, he kept those feelings to himself and did not begrudge his wife. He had re-created himself, and, by a miracle, his efforts had paid off. Cindy. The kids. The home they had made. Frank was still thinking about these changes when Cindy appeared at the door, giving him a lopsided, sexy grin.
Hey, bud. You hungry?
Just finishing up. What am I smelling? Its fabulous.
Pounding footsteps, then Little Frank, ten years old and showing the square, chunky build of his father, caught the doorjamb beside his mother to stop himself, stopping so fast his younger brother, Joey, six and just as square, crashed into Little Franks back.
Little Frank shouted, Meat!
Joey screamed, Ketchup!
Cindy said, Meat and ketchup. What could be better?
Frank pushed back his chair, and stood.
Nothing. Im dying for meat and ketchup.
She rolled her eyes and turned back toward the kitchen.
Youve got five, big guy. Ill hose off these monsters. Wash up and join us.
The boys made exaggerated screams as they raced away, passing Ana, who appeared behind Cindy. Ana was their nanny, a nice girl who had been with them almost six months. She had bright blue eyes, high cheekbones, and was a fantastic help with the kids. Another perk of Franks increasing success.
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