Death in a Strange Country (Commissario Brunetti, Book 2) by Donna Leon
By Donna Leon
Early one morning Commissario Guido Brunetti of the Venice Police confronts a grisly sight while the physique of a tender guy is fished out of a fetid canal. the entire clues aspect to a violent mugging, yet for Brunetti the rationale of theft turns out altogether too handy. while whatever is stumbled on within the victim’s condominium that means the lifestyles of a high-level conspiracy, Brunetti turns into confident that someone, someplace, is taking nice pains to supply a ready-made way to the crime.
Rich with surroundings and great plotting, Death in an odd Country is a wonderful novel in Donna Leon’s chilling Venetian secret sequence.
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Additional info for Death in a Strange Country (Commissario Brunetti, Book 2)
Henry Calloway shook his head. “Oh, there was just that once. One of the neighborhood bums spent the night camped out on the steps here and took a piss in the doorway before he left. The doc claimed I hadn’t cleaned it up good enough. Held up the rent until it passed inspection. ” Unfortunately, it wasn’t a discrepancy at all. It seemed totally in character, considering what we had learned so far about Dr. Frederick Nielsen. Calloway wasn’t about to let us leave. “Heard someone say he’s been dead in there over the weekend,” he went on.
I meet at least one on every case. These turkeys thrive on morbid curiosity. They like to view crime scenes for themselves, preferably while the smell of spilled blood still hangs heavy in the air. Having a murder committed in his building would give Henry Calloway a lifetime’s worth of grist for barstool conversations. I suppressed a shudder. I don’t like the Henry Calloways of the world, but occasionally they prove useful. Big Al was the one who gave Calloway his chance to shine. ” Calloway straightened his shoulders, puffed out his chest, and drew himself to full attention.
She’s supposed to be there by two, but she’s always early. ” When Rachel disappeared into the kitchen to serve the coffee, I stuffed the remainder of my tofu sandwich in my jacket pocket. Al caught me in the act and gave me a quick wink just as our hostess returned. ” she demanded. “Nothing,” Big Al said. ” Telling fibs comes naturally to Detective Allen Lindstrom. During lunch I had deliberately delayed our questioning in hopes of dealing with Rachel alone. I had a hunch she’d be far more communicative once Daisy was out of the way.