End in Tears (Chief Inspector Wexford Series #20) by Ruth Rendell | Paperback | Barnes & Noble
End in Tears (Chief Inspector Wexford Series #20)

End in Tears (Chief Inspector Wexford Series #20)

3.7 11
by Ruth Rendell
     
 

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The first death could have been an accident.  When Mavis Ambrose is killed by a falling chunk of concrete, the police have no reason to suspect mischief. However, the bludgeoning of the young and gorgeous Amber Marshalson that follows is clearly murder. In the midst of the hottest summer on record, Inspector Wexford is called in to investigate. He discovers

Overview

The first death could have been an accident.  When Mavis Ambrose is killed by a falling chunk of concrete, the police have no reason to suspect mischief. However, the bludgeoning of the young and gorgeous Amber Marshalson that follows is clearly murder. In the midst of the hottest summer on record, Inspector Wexford is called in to investigate. He discovers the two cases may be linked, and that Amber was at the scene of Mavis’s death. When a third body is found, the case takes a disturbing and unexpected turn. The deeper Wexford digs, the darker the realities become, and what he finds leaves him feeling lost in a world absent of morals.

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
“Meticulous and coolly malicious. . . . Flat-out brilliant.” —The New York Times Book Review “An unpredictable denouement. . . . Rendell is in top form here.” —The San Diego Union-Tribune “Suspense and surprise. . . . Rendell displays her incomparable skills to full effect.” —Orlando Sentinel“Once again Rendell provides a thoughtful mystery, persistent suspense and a welcome return to Kingsmarkham.” —The Daily News
Kevin Allman
Rendell casts a particularly wry eye at Wexford's attempts to adapt to particulars of today's world, from unwed mothers to global warming and quite a bit more. At the top of that list is Wexford's extraordinarily politically correct subordinate, Hannah Goldsmith, ever on guard for displays of racism or sexism, who finds herself attracted to an Indian inspector whose courtship manners are strictly Old World. Goldsmith provides the mystery with humor, a touch of romance and its inevitable hairsbreadth escape.
— The Washington Post
Marilyn Stasio
Within the flexible moral framework of Rendell’s world, all it takes is a murder to bring out the nastiness in everyone. She’s flat-out brilliant at using her quintessentially decent detective and his family, along with his colleagues on the Kingsmarkham police force, to test whatever issues happen to be upending the established order. While not as suspenseful as her non-series crime novels or as dark as the psychological thrillers she writes as Barbara Vine, this carefully plotted whodunit functions as both a subtle case study in the criminal aberrations of parental love and a sly object lesson in the evils of intolerance.
— The New York Times
Publishers Weekly
Bestseller Rendell's riveting new novel in her Chief Inspector Wexford series (The Babes in the Wood, etc.) links two disparate worlds-a child-surrogacy ring and the construction trade. A teenage mother, Amber Marshalson, is found dead in the grass outside her home in Kingsmarkham, her skull crushed by a piece of brick. A short time later, Amber's pregnant friend, Megan Bartlow, turns up murdered in a seedy, about-to-be-rehabbed Victorian row house. Suspicions center on a tall man wearing a hooded fleece jacket. Against this sinister backdrop stands Wexford, who's in lion-in-winter mode. He's irked and perplexed by modern life, by the casual way young girls conceive babies, by the sprawl devouring the once-lush Sussex countryside, even by his own fractious family. But he never loses the anger and dedication that propel him to solve crimes and understand evil. While Rendell fans may find this not quite up to the level of her most recent non-Wexford, Thirteen Steps Down (2005), they should be well satisfied. (July) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
Whether writing as Barbara Vine or under her own name, Rendell (Thirteen Steps Down) is an icon in the mystery-writing genre. With more than 50 novels to her credit, she shows no signs of slowing down or losing her touch. In this, her 20th Chief Inspector Wexford mystery, Rendell lays out a complex story of murder in which maternal instinct goes awry. From two seemingly unrelated deaths to an intricate scam promising surrogacy services to hopeful parents, the plot is so complicated (and sometimes happenstance) that even the detectives in the story don't get it until the all-knowing Wexler explains it to them. Rendell continues to amaze with her ability to tie together seemingly unrelated plot lines and throw readers off. The tone is typically no-nonsense, with only a few token side trips into the personal lives of the protagonists. Rendell (and Wexford) fans will enjoy this latest offering, provided they can keep the impressively large cast of characters sorted out. Recommended for all public libraries. Caroline Mann, Univ. of Portland Lib., OR Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
Inspector Reginald Wexford's 20th case, and Rendell's 64th volume, asks who murdered a pair of Kingsmarkham teens no better than they should have been. Last June, a hooded figure tried to kill 18-year-old mother Amber Marshalson by tossing a block of concrete onto her car from an overpass. The resulting accident led to a fatality, but it wasn't Amber. Now, two months later, the killer has struck more effectively. On the way home from the Bling-Bling Club, Amber's been beaten to death with a brick that could have come from anywhere. As Wexford, DS Hannah Goldsmith and their colleagues (The Babes in the Wood, 2003, etc.) methodically begin to interrogate witnesses and potential suspects-the neighbors of Amber's adoring father and hostile stepmother, the friends she went clubbing with, the well-connected family of her baby's father-Rendell sets about bringing each of them to startling life. She lavishes equal care on the members of Wexford's own family, led this time by his daughter Sylvia, who's quixotically determined to carry a baby for her ex-husband, Neil, and his girlfriend, Naomi. Soon enough, the murderer claims a new victim, pregnant shop clerk Megan Bartlow, whose connection with Amber isn't hard to find. But it'll be months before Wexford emerges from an intricate web of red herrings to identify a sadly amateurish scam and a surprising killer. Average for Rendell's distinguished list of whodunits, which makes it just a whisker below state of the art.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780307277237
Publisher:
Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Publication date:
06/26/2007
Series:
Chief Inspector Wexford Series, #20
Edition description:
Reprint
Pages:
336
Sales rank:
722,476
Product dimensions:
5.20(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.70(d)

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

When he lifted it off the seat the backpack felt heavier than when he had first put it into the car. He lowered it on to the soft ferny ground. Then he got back into the driving seat to move the car deep into a cave made by hawthorn bushes and brambles, and the hop vines which climbed over everything in this wood. It was late June and the vegetation very dense and luxuriant.

Getting out again and standing back to take a good look, he could barely see the car. Probably he only saw it because he knew it was there. No one else would notice it. He squatted down, hoisted the backpack up on to his shoulders and slowly stood up to his full height. The movement reminded him of something and it was a moment before he realised what it was: lifting up his little son to sit on his shoulders. A hundred years ago, it seemed. The backpack was lighter than the boy but felt heavier to him.

He was afraid that if he stood upright the pack would jerk him backwards and break his spine. Of course it wouldn’t. It just felt that way. All the same, he wouldn’t stand upright, wouldn’t even try it. Instead, he stooped, bending almost double. It wasn’t far. He could walk like this the two hundred yards to the bridge. Anyone seeing him from a distance in this half-light would have thought him a humpbacked man.

There was no one to see. The twisty country lane wound round Yorstone Wood and over the bridge. He could have brought the car right up to the bridge but that way it would have been seen, so he had driven off the lane along a ride and then through a clearing to find the hop-grown cave. In the distance he thought he heard a car, then something heavier with a diesel engine. They would be on the road below, Brimhurst Lane that ran from Myfleet to Brimhurst Prideaux, passing under Yorstone Bridge ahead of him. It wasn’t far now but it seemed like miles. If his legs gave way he wouldn’t be able to get up again. Would it be easier to drag the backpack? What, then, if he met someone? Dragging something looks much more suspicious than carrying it. He pressed his shoulders back a little and, surprisingly, that was better. There was no one to meet. He could see the lane through the trees and the little stone bridge no one had reinforced with steel or replaced with a brightly painted wooden structure.

Its parapets were low, too low for safety, according to the local paper. The paper was always on about this bridge, and the dangers of the lane and the low parapets. He walked out on to the bridge, squatted down and let the backpack slip off his shoulders to the ground. He undid the flaps and then the zip. Inside, now revealed, was a lump of concrete, very roughly spherical, a bit bigger than a soccer ball. A pair of gloves was also inside the pack. To be on the safe side, he put them on. Though it would never come to anyone examining his hands, it would be stupid to scrape or bruise them.

What light remained was fading fast and with the coming of the dark it grew cooler. His watch told him that it was nine fifteen. Not long now. He lifted up the lump of concrete in his gloved hands, thought of balancing it on the parapet in readiness, then thought again. It wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that someone would come along the path he had used and cross the bridge. Wait for the call, he thought. It won’t be long now.

No traffic had passed along the road below since he had come on to the bridge but a car came now, going towards Brimhurst Prideaux, most probably all the way to Kingsmarkham. He closed his hand over the mobile in his pocket, worried because it hadn’t rung. Then it rang.

‘Yes?’

‘She’s left. You want the number again?’

‘I’ve got it. A silver Honda.’

‘Right.’

‘A silver Honda. Should be along in four minutes.’

He heard the line close. It was dark now. A car passed under the bridge, heading towards Brimhurst St Mary and Myfleet. The road dipped where the bridge passed over it and then twisted to the left, almost a right-angled bend. There were tall trees on the corner with thick ancient trunks and a black and white arrow sign opposite, pointing traffic to the left. A minute had passed.

He moved across to the other side of the bridge, dragging the backpack behind him, and there he bent down, heaved up the lump of concrete, his arms straining, and set it on the parapet. Just as well it wasn’t far to lift it. Another minute gone. A white van with headlights on at full beam came from the Myfleet direction, a car following it, to pass, just behind him, a motorbike coming from Kingsmarkham. He was momentarily blinded by the headlights, held in them, which made him curse. No one should see him. The silver Honda with the number he had memorised would be along soon, very soon. The third minute passed. A fourth.

He hated anticlimaxes. The silver Honda could have taken another route. It was all very well to say it never did but you could never say that, not when it came to the way people behaved. He was facing the way it would come, towards Myfleet. It would pass under the bridge but before it reached the left-hand bend . . . He could see lights in the distance. The lights appeared and disappeared as a hedge or a tree trunk cut them from his view, and appeared again. Two sets of lights, not one car but two, both of them silver, quite close together. One was the Honda but he couldn’t tell which, not from here, not in the dark, but he could read the number or the last three digits.

As soon as he had given a great push to the lump on the parapet and felt it drop, he knew he had aimed at the wrong car. The crash was huge, like a bomb. The first car, the one he had hit, ploughed into a tree trunk, its bonnet burst open, its windscreen gone, half its roof caved in. It seemed to have split and exploded. The car behind, undamaged until this point, crashed into its rear and its boot lid sprang open. That was the silver Honda which had been his quarry. As its driver got out of it, screaming, her hands up in the air, he knew he had failed.

He waited no longer but picked up the backpack and moved, looking back once to see the leading car burst into flames. In the brilliant light which illuminated everything he saw for the first time the woman he had tried to kill.

Meet the Author

Ruth Rendell has won numerous awards, including three Edgars, the highest accolade from Mystery Writers of America, and three Gold Daggers, one Silver Dagger, and a Diamond Dagger for outstanding contribution to the genre from England's prestigious Crime Writer's Association. She lives in London.

Brief Biography

Date of Birth:
February 17, 1930
Place of Birth:
London, England
Education:
Loughton County High School for Girls, Essex

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End in Tears (Chief Inspector Wexford Series #20) 3.7 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 11 reviews.
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bklvr2 More than 1 year ago
Ruth Rendell had a great idea for End in Tears, and it held my interest until the very end, where it completely fell apart. Inspector Wexford and her other characters were well-drawn, as usual, and interesting, but the "solution" was so unbelievable, contrived, and weak that it spoiled the book for me. It was very compelling up until that point, and I couldn't put it down. What a disappointment! I have read nearly all of Ruth Rendell's books, and this ending was not up to her usual high standards. I especially recommend Speaker of Mandarin, From Doon with Death, and Sins of the Fathers, all by Ruth Rendell.
JessLucy More than 1 year ago
It's incredibly difficult to choose just one Ruth Rendell novel as a favorite, because they are all so wonderful! End in Tears is flawlessly written, captivating and disturbing. I get so excited when Rendell (and her alter-ego Barbara Vine) puts out another book that I rush out to buy it, turn off the phone and settle in for the weekend. This novel definately delivers; when I turned the final page and read the last paragraph I just sat, stunned. If you like her style, I would also recommend: Acid Row, the Devil's Feather, and the Shape of Snake by Minette Walters. Also, you may like Morag Joss, Anita Shreve and Alexander McCall Smith. Under the name Barbara Vine, I loved The Brimstone Wedding, A Fatal Inversion, and A Dark-Adapted Eye.
moortina More than 1 year ago
This is a mystery with characters who are relevant and fascinating to all ages. Ruth Rendell manages to include us all in her tale and also shows a poignant understanding of the social challenges we all have to deal with. The mystery is challenging and the solution somewhat surprising - but shouldn't be...Strongly recommend!
GailCooke More than 1 year ago
Everyone loves a British whodunit, especially when it comes from the redoubtable pen of Ruth Rendell. This is the 20th story with Inspector General Reg Wexford as the lead character, and time hasn't dimmed his appeal. He may not be a hero to his younger colleagues at the Kingsmarkham police station in Sussex but he is to millions of listeners/readers throughout the world. One reason for his popularity may be his accessability - it's a struggle for him to follow doctor's orders, a losing battle to make him exercise regularly, he has problems with his daughter, and he's not very good at avoiding temptation, although he does sit on his hands when in a pub to avoid the tempting bowl of cashew nuts. As in previous tales he is accompanied by friend and fellow officer Mike Burden. End In Tears focuses on the killing of two young women. At first the deaths seem unrelated. In the initial fatality a hunk of concrete was shoved off an overpass onto a car beneath. Months pass and then another murder - Amber Marshalson is cruelly, almost sadistically beaten to death late at night as she returns from a round of nightspots. Her killer was seen waiting for her, but not identified. Investigation reveals that Amber was driving her car directly behind the car that was crushed. Further, the two cars closely resembled each other. It is also learned that the two women had traveled to Germany together. Burden immediately assumes that drugs are somehow involved. Wexford thinks otherwise. It is now obvious that someone had gone to great lengths to make sure that Amber was dead. But, who and why? Broadway, television and cinema actor Daniel Gerroll has an impressive list of appearances to his credit, including the films Chariots of Fire, Big Business, and 84 Charing Cross Road. British by birth he has a deft way with accents. Gerroll has the voice for this Sussex based mystery. He delivers his tale with polish and just enough world-weariness for the often perplexed Wexford. - Gail Cooke
Guest More than 1 year ago
As usual with Rendell, she has presented exciting and well rounded characters. Unlike many authors, Rendell provides depth to not only her protagonist, Wexford, but to the other members of his investigative team, creating a very realistic atmosphere. The plot is complex with numerous twists and an unexpected red herring. The lack of use of current technology that most police have available is the only issue that kept the ranking to 4 stars. In all other respects, End in Tears is an exciting and beautifully constructed work.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Hey