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The Rag and Bone Shop
By: Robert Cormier , Robert J. HeisseBook Publisher: Random House
Imprint: Random House Children's Books
Format: ePub Encrypted (DRM)
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Twelve-year old Jason is accused of the brutal murder of a young girl. Is he innocent or guilty? The shocked town calls on an interrogator with a stellar reputation: he always gets a confession. The confrontation between Jason and his interrogator forms the chilling climax of this terrifying look at what can happen when the pursuit of justice becomes a personal crusade for victory at any cost.
From the Hardcover edition.
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| Title of eBook: The Rag and Bone Shop | |
| Release Date: 12-04-2001 | |
| Allowed Countries (hover) | |
| Publisher: Random House Children's Books |
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
| Parent title | The Rag and Bone Shop |
|---|---|
| Encrypted (DRM) | Yes |
| SKU | 9780385729925 |
| File size | 148 |
| Internet Security | n/a |
| Printing | Not allowed |
| Copying | Not allowed |
| Read aloud | No Sys requirements Download reader |
| Devices | Samsung Tablet, Apple Ipad & Iphone, Barnes & Noble Nook, Kobo eReader, Aluratek Libre, Iliad, Nokia, Blackberry, Hanlin |
| Note | ePub, short for electronic publication is one of our favorites and should be yours for a couple of reasons. ePub offers reflowable text giving you flexibility to manipulate how the content is presented. Moreover, lots of cool features are now being developed for the reader like advanced video and audio. ePub is now an industry standard, so all of the "non-propreitary" hardware manufacturers are now supporting it. |
The Rag and Bone Shop
Part I
“Feeling better?”
“I guess so. My headache’s gone. Is there a connection?”
“Maybe. They say confession’s good for the soul. But I don’t know if it eliminates headaches.”
“Am I supposed to say I’m sorry now?”
“The fact that you confessed indicates a degree of sorrow.”
“Is that enough?”
“That’s up to you, Carl. What you did can’t be erased, of course.”
“I know. They’re dead. Gone. Can’t bring them back. But—can the sin be erased?”
“I can’t tell you that. I’m not a priest.”
“But I confessed to you.”
“Yes, but I can’t give you absolution.”
Pause.
“Are the police coming?”
“They’re waiting outside.”
Trent shut off the tape player and leaned back in the chair, kneaded the flesh above his eyebrows. In the silence of the office, he still heard Carl Seaton’s voice, all cunning gone, penitent, full of regret. Trent had sat across from him for four hours, under the harsh light of a 100-watt ceiling bulb, in the small cluttered office. The relentless questions and answers, the evasions and rationalizations, the eventual admission (not the same as a confession), and, finally, the confession itself.
The Trent magic touch at work, as a newspaper headline had once proclaimed. But Trent felt no particular magic now, no thrill of accomplishment. Too many confessions? Like Carl Seaton’s? Having induced Carl to confess (that old Trent magic has you in its spell), Trent had had to l...
“Feeling better?”
“I guess so. My headache’s gone. Is there a connection?”
“Maybe. They say confession’s good for the soul. But I don’t know if it eliminates headaches.”
“Am I supposed to say I’m sorry now?”
“The fact that you confessed indicates a degree of sorrow.”
“Is that enough?”
“That’s up to you, Carl. What you did can’t be erased, of course.”
“I know. They’re dead. Gone. Can’t bring them back. But—can the sin be erased?”
“I can’t tell you that. I’m not a priest.”
“But I confessed to you.”
“Yes, but I can’t give you absolution.”
Pause.
“Are the police coming?”
“They’re waiting outside.”
Trent shut off the tape player and leaned back in the chair, kneaded the flesh above his eyebrows. In the silence of the office, he still heard Carl Seaton’s voice, all cunning gone, penitent, full of regret. Trent had sat across from him for four hours, under the harsh light of a 100-watt ceiling bulb, in the small cluttered office. The relentless questions and answers, the evasions and rationalizations, the eventual admission (not the same as a confession), and, finally, the confession itself.
The Trent magic touch at work, as a newspaper headline had once proclaimed. But Trent felt no particular magic now, no thrill of accomplishment. Too many confessions? Like Carl Seaton’s? Having induced Carl to confess (that old Trent magic has you in its spell), Trent had had to l...
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