By Teresa Solana
One other day in Barcelona, one other slimy politician's spouse is suspected of infidelity. Lluis Font discovers a portrait of his spouse in an exhibition that leads him to finish he's being cuckolded via the artist. involved purely in regards to the power political fallout, he hires twins Eduard and Pep, inner most detectives with a meant knack for aiding the rich with their "dirty laundry." Their workplace is decorated with fake doorways resulting in nonexistent inner most rooms, a mysterious secretary who's constantly away, and a damaged notebook computer picked up in the street. The case turns gruesome while Font's spouse is located poisoned via a marron glacé from a field of goodies introduced anonymously.
This is a deftly plotted, bitingly humorous secret novel. A satire of Catalan politics and a desirable perception into the lifestyles and behavior of Barcelona's population, diurnal and nocturnal.
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Additional resources for A Not so Perfect Crime (Borja & Eduard, Book 1)
Or words to that effect. ” At that second session I noticed that the tie-line had been put up in the backyard. Allison had gotten someone else to do it. She was not a woman who was willing to have her desires thwarted. The last time I had seen her had been in early December. Ginger had turned nine months and we’d started her strict training regimen—sit, stay, heel, down at a distance, down while running full speed, coming when called—pretty heady stuff. Oh, and fetching Allison’s slippers. And she was great at all of it.
Her wild, uncontrolled energy was now totally focused on me. “Wow, she’s sitting,” said Allison. ” I thought Allison, like a lot of people, especially many dog trainers, would have trouble understanding this. But she didn’t. She tilted her head, smiled, and said, “Where were you when I was a kid? You could have done wonders training my parents. ” We had a laugh over that and then began our ﬁrst training session: basic puppy stuff; housebreaking, how to deal with mouthing of the hands and chewing on the furniture.
There’s always a certain amount of shortterm memory loss after any concussion. ” She had a puzzled look on her face. “Was Mrs. ” The sheriff said, “Sam, go on home and get cleaned up. Then put your uniform on and get back out here. I’m gonna need you to keep the press and any lookie-lous off the prop- A N OSE FOR M URDER 39 erty. ” Jamie—ever the doctor—asked Kirby, “Are you all right, Sam? ” Kirby grunted an embarrassed grunt. ” He shook his leg twice, pulled a toothpick out of his big forest-green parka, jammed it in his face, then stepped around Flynn and towered over me.