Murder in Montmartre by Cara Black

By Cara Black

Parisian P.I. Aimée Leduc strives to transparent the identify of a youth pal, now a policewoman, who is charged with capturing her partner

Aimée Leduc is having a foul day. First, she comes domestic from paintings at her Paris detective organisation to benefit that her boyfriend is leaving her. She is going out for a drink together with her buddy Laure, a police officer, yet Laure’s patrol associate, Jacques, interrupts, asserting he must consult Laure urgently. the 2 depart the bar, and once they don’t go back, Aimée follows Laure’s direction and reveals her sprawled on a snowy rooftop, now not faraway from Jacques, who's bleeding from a deadly gunshot wound.

When the police arrive, they arrest Laure for homicide. not anyone is drawn to supporting Aimée work out the reality. As she chases down more and more harmful leads within the attempt to loose her buddy, Aimée stumbles right into a internet of Corsican nationalists, separatists, gangsters, and artists. may Jacques’s homicide and Laure’s arrest join a bigger cover-up?

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When I leave in the morning, I don’t know if I’ll come back. ” “You’re on patrol, just want you wanted,” Aimée said, noticing the pin on Laure’s lapel. ” Laure had left paperwork behind and was now assigned to active duty. Patrolling wasn’t a job Aimée thought wise for her. They’d had endless discussions over it. Laure’s need to prove herself— whether it arose from her complex over the harelip that had marred her appearance until the operation, or from her desire to match her father’s decorated service—hadn’t changed.

Lucien’s cousin’s great-aunt had married a distant relation of Félix Conari’s. Félix wasn’t even Corsican, but in Corsica family meant everything. Clan ties and family connections from the thirteenth century still governed the island. The code was strong. The basics still operated in Paris. ” Félix gestured Lucien to a curved blond wood sculptural chair. ” SOUNDWERX. The European recording giant! Lucien blinked in surprise. “You have a unique sound, haute cool,” Félix told him. ” It was an offer Lucien hadn’t even dreamed of.

Building trust and gaining an informer’s confidence takes time. Little by little, laying the groundwork. I’m teaching you, remember? ” Her reluctance wavered. Jacques winked. ” She ignored her misgivings as she pulled a wool cap over her thick brown hair, determined to discover what had made Jacques’s upper lip glisten with perspiration, what had made him twitch. Place Pigalle, deserted by pedestrians, lay behind them. Only the sex-club barkers who rubbed their arms while greeting the taxis pulling up in front of their doorways were still out.

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