By Donna Leon
As Venice stories a debilitating heatwave, Commissario Brunetti escapes town to spend time together with his kin. For Ispettore Vianello, in spite of the fact that, the elements is the very last thing on his brain. apparently his aunt has turn into enthusiastic about horoscopes and has been chickening out quite a lot of funds from the family members company. no longer figuring out what to do, he consults Brunetti and asks permission to path her.
Meanwhile, Brunetti gets a trip from a chum who works on the Commune. it appears discrepancies were happening on the Courthouse regarding a pass judgement on and an usher with a wonderful music checklist. Intrigued, Brunetti asks Signorina Elettra to determine what she will be able to whereas he's away.
When information reaches Brunetti that the usher from the Courthouse has been viciously murdered, he returns to enquire. yet why may anyone desire a reliable guy lifeless, and what may well his dying need to do with the Courthouse discrepancies?
Read or Download A Question of Belief (Commissario Brunetti, Book 19) PDF
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Additional info for A Question of Belief (Commissario Brunetti, Book 19)
He remembered now, too, that Pekach had just made captain. Now that he was a captain, the cop thought, Pekach was probably going to have to get rid of the pigtail. Captains don’t work undercover; neither do lieutenants, and only rarely a sergeant. The cop remembered a story that had gone around the bar of the Fraternal Order of Police. A Narcotics Lieutenant (obviously, now Pekach) had been jumped on by the Commissioner himself for the pigtail. Pekach had stood up to him. If he was supposed to supervise his undercover men working the streets, the only way he could do that was, from time to time, to go on the streets with them.
Harry, aside from his astonishing flatulence, was a nice enough guy, but he was not too bright. What Amay had just called in was not the sort of job that should be assigned to detectives like Harry the Farter, if there was to be any real hope to catch the doer. The name below Harry the Farter’s on the wheel was that of Richard B. “Dick” Hemmings, who was, in Mort Shapiro’s judgment, a damned good cop. Shapiro opened the shallow drawer in the center of his desk, and took from it a report of a recovered stolen motor vehicle, which had come in several hours before, and which Detective Shapiro had “forgotten” to assign to a detective.
And said Hail Marys,” she said. ” “He wasn’t wearing a T-shirt,” she said, “an undershirt. I saw that much. He was barechested. He was hairy. ” “No! Kneeling, squatting, over me. Over my head. ” “He told me to suck it,” she said, bitterly. ” “Was he erect? ” “No,” she said. “No. ” “What? Oh. No. ” “After a while he took it out, and sat back on his heels and ... ” “You said he was hairy,” Hemmings asked. “Did you notice anything else? Were there any scars on his body? Any marks? Any tattoos? ” “He pushed me with the knife and made me open them,” she said.
A Question of Belief (Commissario Brunetti, Book 19) by Donna Leon