Mary, Mary (en español)

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Overview

Somebody is murdering Hollywood's A-list.FBI agent Alex Cross is on vacation when he gets a call from the Director. An actress has been shot outside her home in Beverly Hills. Afterward, an editor for the Los Angeles Times receives an e-mail recounting the murder in shocking detail, signed Mary Smith. Her calling card:"You've got mail."The authorities fear this is only the beginning. Mary Smith is targeting Hollywood stars and power brokers, and she is getting better every time. This case is like nothing Alex has...
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Overview

Somebody is murdering Hollywood's A-list.FBI agent Alex Cross is on vacation when he gets a call from the Director. An actress has been shot outside her home in Beverly Hills. Afterward, an editor for the Los Angeles Times receives an e-mail recounting the murder in shocking detail, signed Mary Smith. Her calling card:"You've got mail."The authorities fear this is only the beginning. Mary Smith is targeting Hollywood stars and power brokers, and she is getting better every time. This case is like nothing Alex has ever confronted before. Could this be the plan of an obsessed fan or a spurned actor, or is it part of something much more terrifying? And how could a woman be capable of these vicious crimes? To track a merciless killer, Alex navigates a world where the stars sip San Pellegrino at the Ivy as hopefuls hover around studio gates armed with 8 X 10 glossies. Members of the A-list fear they're next on Mary's list, and Cross and the LAPD scramble to find a pattern before Mary can send one more chilling update.Filled with the ruthless twists that make his fans hunger for more, Mary, Mary is James Patterson's most sophisticated thriller yet.
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Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble
For the best sleuths, vacations are impossible. This time, FBI agent Alex Cross is relaxing with his family at Disneyland when he gets a call from the director. An A-list actress has been murdered outside her Beverly Hills home. At first, the killing appears to be an isolated incident, but Cross quickly deduces that a star-obsessed serial killer known as Mary Smith is on the loose. Before long, every Hollywood celebrity is running scared, hoping not to become next week's deadly attraction.
Library Journal
In Patterson's 11th Alex Cross thriller (after London Bridges), the FBI agent is asked to investigate a serial killer who targets women with two things in common: they're all connected to Hollywood studios, and they're all the mothers of young children. In each crime, the killer leaves behind three stickers with the letters A, A, and B; shortly thereafter, a Los Angeles Times entertainment columnist receives an email addressed to the victim with an explanation of how she was stalked and murdered. A self-styled "Storyteller," the killer signs these gripping messages with the name "Mary Smith." But is the killer a man or a woman? And has the "story" spun out of control? Complicating the investigation are Alex's own family problems: he's about to lose a custody battle over his youngest son, his other children are being neglected, and his relationship with a female police inspector is at risk. Though lacking the richness and complexity of other psychological thrillers, e.g., Dennis Lehane's Shutter Island, Patterson's story, told in 121 brief chapters, flows effortlessly and with mounting suspense to its final, shocking twist; a fascinating psycho will captivate the author's many fans. Recommended for popular fiction collections. [See Prepub Alert, LJ 7/05.]-Ronnie H. Terpening, Univ. of Arizona, Tucson Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
Superstar psychologist Alex Cross's quality time with his kids is interrupted by...another serial killer!The clever, remorseless miscreant who calls himself the Storyteller has already practiced his lethal skills on three hapless New Yorkers before he begins his career in earnest with a series of killings in L.A. Choosing as his victims women who've neglected their children for successful careers in the entertainment industry, he describes the murders in overheated e-mails he addresses to his victims but sends to hapless entertainment columnist Arnold Griner, signing them "Mary Smith." All right, then, is Mary a woman or a man? The LAPD is baffled, the FBI too, so they yank Alex out of Disneyland, where he's gone to recuperate from his last megadose of murder (The Big Bad Wolf, 2003) and bond with his family while doing his best to duck the attention of a true-crime writer who behaves more like a stalker. Learning that Alex is back on the job despite all his promises, his distraught ex, Christine Johnson, grabs their baby, Little Alex, and stashes him in Seattle, insisting that Big Alex's devotion to his dangerous job is constantly putting an intolerable strain on his loved ones, a charge that has the merit of being demonstrably true. The irony of it all is that Alex's reluctant consultation doesn't slow the Storyteller down a bit. He (or she), undeterred by the superdad angst that substitutes for detection here, just keeps up the torrid homicide rate until fulfilling her (or his) murderous plan. Luckily, the resulting break from falling bodies lasts just long enough for the cops to commit one last, fatal blunder before Alex gets one of the unmotivated brainwaves that makes him "America'sSherlock Holmes."Certainly not the worst of Patterson's clueless mysteries, but still another likely candidate to be filmed as "a big, dopey thriller based on a dopey bestseller."
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9788496778528
  • Publisher: Ediciones B
  • Publication date: 9/1/2008
  • Language: Spanish
  • Series: Alex Cross Series , #11
  • Edition description: Spanish-language Edition
  • Pages: 380
  • Sales rank: 1,436,654
  • Product dimensions: 5.20 (w) x 8.10 (h) x 1.20 (d)

Meet the Author

James Patterson
James Patterson
Not making any bones about his bid for success, James Patterson once declared he wanted to be known as “the king of the page-turners.” While that may seem like a pretty grand ambition, Patterson is as worthy of that title as any author working today.

Biography

James Patterson had been working as a very successful advertising copywriter when he decided to put his Masters degree in English to a somewhat different use. Inspired by bestselling hair-raising thrillers like The Day of the Jackal and The Exorcist, Patterson went to work on his first novel. Published in 1976, The Thomas Berryman Number established him as a writer of tightly constructed mysteries that move forward with the velocity of a bullet. For his startling debut, Patterson was awarded the prestigious Edgar Award for Best First Mystery Novel—an auspicious beginning to one of the most successful careers in publishing.

A string of gripping standalone mysteries followed, but it was the 1992 release of Along Came a Spider that elevated Patterson to superstar status. Introducing Alex Cross, a brilliant black police detective/forensic psychologist, the novel was the first installment in a series of bestselling thrillers that has proved to be a cash cow for the author and his publisher.

Examining Patterson's track record, it's obvious that he believes one good series deserves another…maybe even a third! In 2001, he debuted the Women's Murder Club with 1st to Die, a fast-paced thriller featuring four female crime fighters living in San Francisco—a homicide detective, a medical examiner, an assistant D.A., and a cub reporter. The successful series has continued with other numerically titled installments. Then, spinning off a set of characters from a previous novel (1998's When the Wind Blows), in 2005 he published Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment. Featuring a "flock" of genetically engineered flying children, the novel was a huge hit, especially with teen readers, and spawned a series of vastly popular fantasy adventures.

In addition to continuing his bestselling literary franchises, Patterson has also found time to co-author thrillers with other writers—including Peter de Jonge, Andrew Gross, Maxine Paetro, and Howard Roughan—and has even ventured into romance (Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas, Sam's Letters to Jennifer) and children's literature (santaKid). Writing at an astonishing pace, this prolific author has turned himself into a one-man publishing juggernaut, fulfilling his clearly stated ambition to become "the king of the page-turners."

Good To Know

Patterson's Suzanne's Diary For Nicholas was inspired by a diary his wife kept that tracked the development of their toddler son.

Two of Patterson's Alex Cross mysteries (Along Came a Spider and Kiss the Girls) have been turned into films starring Morgan Freeman; in 2007, a weekly television series premiered, based on the bestselling Women's Murder Club novels.

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    1. Hometown:
      Palm Beach, Florida
    1. Date of Birth:
      March 22, 1947
    2. Place of Birth:
      Newburgh, New York
    1. Education:
      B.A., Manhattan College, 1969; M.A., Vanderbilt University, 1971
    2. Website:

Read an Excerpt

Mary, Mary


By James Patterson

Little, Brown

Copyright © 2005 James Patterson
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0-316-15976-X


Chapter One

ACT ONE, SCENE ONE, the Storyteller thought to himself, and couldn't hold back a dizzying rush of anticipation. The truth was that ordinary people committed perfect crimes and perfect murders all the time. But you didn't hear about it for the simple reason that the killers never got caught.

And neither would he, of course. That was a given in the story he was about to tell.

Which didn't mean that today wasn't nerve-racking. Actually, this was the most intense moment in the past couple of insane years for him. He was ready to kill somebody, a complete stranger, and he had figured out that New York City was the right place for his first.

It almost happened just outside a basement restroom in Bloomingdale's, but he didn't feel right about the location.

Too crowded, even at half past ten in the morning.

Too noisy, and yet not noisy enough to provide the proper distraction.

Plus, he didn't like the idea of trying to escape out onto the unfamiliar territory of Lexington Avenue, or especially down into the claustrophobic IRT subway tunnels. When it felt right, he'd know it, and act accordingly.

So the Storyteller moved on and decided to catch a flick at the Sutton Theater on East 57th Street, a funky, run-down place that had obviously seen better days.

Maybe this was a good place for a murder. He liked the irony, even if he was the only one who got it. Yes, maybe this was going to work out great, he thought as he sat in one of the two small auditoriums inside.

He began to watch Kill Bill Volume 2 with seven other Tarantino aficionados.

Which one of these unsuspecting people would be his victim? You? You? You there? The Storyteller spun the tale inside his head.

There were two loudmouths in identical New York Yankees baseball caps, worn backward, of course. The irritating morons didn't shut up once through the interminable ads and trailers. They both deserved to die.

So did an atrociously dressed elderly couple, who didn't talk to each other at all, not once in fifteen minutes before the houselights went down. Killing them would be a good deed, almost a public service.

A fragile-looking woman, early forties, seemed to be having the shakes two rows in front of the moldy oldies. Bothering no one-except him.

And then a big black dude with his sneakered feet up on the seat in front of him. Rude, inconsiderate bastard in his old-school Converses that must have been at least size fourteens.

Next, a black-bearded movie nerd who probably had seen the movie a dozen times already and worshipped Quentin Tarantino, of course.

Turned out, it was the bearded wonder who got up about halfway through the movie, just after Uma Thurman was buried alive. Jesus, who could walk out on that classic scene?

Duty-bound, he followed, a couple of seconds behind. Out into the dingy hall, then into the men's room, which was located near theater two.

He was actually shaking now. Was this it? His moment? His first murder? The beginning of everything he'd dreamed about for months? Make that years.

He was pretty much on autopilot, trying not to think about anything except doing this right, then getting in and out of the movie theater without anybody noticing his face or too much else about him.

The bearded guy was standing at the urinal, which was kind of good news, actually. The shot was nicely framed and art-directed.

Wrinkled, grungy black T-shirt that said NYU FILM SCHOOL with a clapsticks logo on the back. Reminded him of a character out of a Daniel Clowes comic book, and that graphic shit was hot right now.

"And ... action!" he said.

Then he shot the poor bearded loser in the back of the head, watched him drop like a heavy sack to the bathroom floor. Lie there-nothing moving. The blast roared through his head in the tiled room, louder than he'd dreamed it would be.

"Hey-what the? What happened? Hey!" he heard, and the Storyteller whirled around as if there was an audience watching him in the men's room.

Two guys from the Sutton Theater crew had entered behind him. They must have been curious about the noise. And how much had they seen?

"Heart attack," he said, blurted it out, tried to sound convincing. "Man just fell over at the urinal. Help me get him up. Poor guy. He's bleeding!"

No panic, no affect, no second thoughts whatsoever. Everything was pure instinct now, right, wrong, or indifferent.

He raised his gun and shot both theater workers as they stood walleyed and dorky at the door. He shot them again when they were down on the floor. Just to be careful. Professional.

And now he was really shaking, legs like J-E-L-L-O, but trying to walk very calmly out of the men's room.

Then out of the Sutton Theater onto 57th, heading east on foot. Everything outside feeling completely unreal and otherworldly, everything so bright and brassy.

He'd done it. He'd killed three people instead of just one. His first three murders. It was just practice, but he'd done it, and you know what? He could do it again.

"Practice makes perfect," the Storyteller whispered under his breath as he hurried toward his car-his getaway car, right? God, this was the best feeling of his life. Of course, that didn't say much for his life up to now, did it?

But watch out from here on, just watch out.

For Mary, Mary, quite contrary.

Of course, he was the only one who got that. So far, anyway.

(Continues...)



Excerpted from Mary, Mary by James Patterson Copyright © 2005 by James Patterson . Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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