By Jane Wenham-Jones
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Compliment for the Havana Quartet:
“Havana purple, one other winner from sour Lemon Press. ”—The big apple Times
“Overlaid with a wealthy smoky patina, an environment that reeks of slums and riches, cigar smoke and unique perfumes. ”—The Independent
“Talk approximately unforeseen discoveries, the Havana Quartet is a revelation. With a nod to Key Largo and a digital bow to The Maltese Falcon, those novels are finally in regards to the redemptive nature of timeless friendship and the possibly damaging nature of timeless love. ”—The Atlantic Monthly
“Drenched with that beguiling otherness so attractive to enthusiasts of mysteries of alternative cultures, it is going to additionally attract those that relish the sultry lyricism of James Lee Burke. ”—Booklist
The fourth identify of the prize-winning Havana Quartet.
Twenty-four-year-old Lissette Delgado was once overwhelmed, raped, after which strangled with a towel. Marijuana is located in her house and her cloth wardrobe is suspiciously past the technique of a highschool instructor. Lieutenant Conde is stressed by means of “the optimum authority” to finish this research quick while probability leads him into the hands of an attractive redhead, a saxophone participant who stocks his love for jazz and scuffling with fi sh.
This is a Havana of crumbling, grand structures, secrets and techniques hidden in the back of pale doorways, and corruption. For an writer dwelling in Cuba, Leonardo Padura is remarkably outspoken concerning the failings of Fidel Castro’s regime. but this can be a eulogy of Cuba, its lifetime of tune, intercourse, and the nice friendships of these who elected to stick and struggle for survival.
On a chilly evening presently prior to Christmas, an immigrant highway seller is killed in Venice's Campo Santo Stefano. the closest witnesses to the development are the travelers who were looking the man's wares earlier than his loss of life -- faux purses of each clothier label -- yet they've got obvious not anything that would be of a lot aid to the police.
Whilst the physique of guy is located in a canal, broken by way of the tides, sporting no pockets, and donning just one shoe, Brunetti has little to paintings with. No neighborhood has filed a missing-person record, and no resort visitors have disappeared. the place used to be the crime scene? and the way can Brunetti determine the fellow whilst he can’t exhibit images of his face?
Books on Tape- Collector's variation- nine- ninety min tapes. An Adam Dalgliesh secret. whilst Dr Lorrimer performed scientist, he was once chilly and cold. whilst he performed corpse, he was once chilly and bloody. What did he comprehend that made anyone kill him? .. .. input Adam Dalgliesh, leader inspector of Scotland backyard. Dalgliesh seems at humans and occasions clinically.
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Additional info for Perfect Alibis
I would never have left you, I don’t think,” Troy said. ” “Oh for a day or two. But I always came back. I’ve never been able to talk to anyone like we used to talk. ” The hairs on her arms tingled. She looked back at his face. It was true. They had liked each other very much. She used to tell Rose all the time. “But he’s my best friend,” she would say. ” She wore the words like a comfort blanket, kept them around her chilled shoulders as she waited through the night for him to come home, as she left for work leaving him to sleep away the mornings.
Come off it. You mean you’re attracted to women who want to make something of their lives and so, by virtue of that, they eventually get sick of keeping you and move on. ” He shook his head sorrowfully. ” He gave a shout of laughter. The sound struck her hard in the stomach and desire surged through her all over again. She wanted to knock the grin from his face. “When you asked for money from the flat, George wanted me to send you an invoice. ” Her voice suddenly sounded mean in a way she hadn’t intended.
She didn’t look or see his expression, only heard the scrape of his 51 chair on the tiles and found herself held against his chest. Christ! She pressed her cheek into his shirt, feeling the soft fabric of his collar, the stubble of his chin, breathing in what was suddenly a familiar scent. He held her tightly and for a wild, giddy moment as she felt the heat, she imagined them tugging the clothes from each other and making mad passionate love on the kitchen table. Mmmmmn… Then he put his hands either side of her face to pull it up towards him and reality thumped down hard between them.