Murder at the Lanterne Rouge (Aimee Leduc Series #12) [NOOK Book]

Overview

Aimée Leduc is happy her long-time business partner René has found a girlfriend. Really, she is. It’s not her fault if she can’t suppress her doubts about the relationship; René is moving way too fast, and Aimée’s instincts tell her Meizi, this supposed love of René’s life, isn’t trustworthy. And her misgivings may not be far off the mark: Meizi disappears during a Chinatown dinner to take a phone call and never comes back to the restaurant. Minutes later, the body of a young man, a science prodigy and volunteer ...
See more details below
Murder at the Lanterne Rouge (Aimee Leduc Series #12)

Available on NOOK devices and apps  
  • NOOK Devices
  • Samsung Galaxy Tab 4 NOOK 7.0
  • Samsung Galaxy Tab 4 NOOK 10.1
  • NOOK HD Tablet
  • NOOK HD+ Tablet
  • NOOK eReaders
  • NOOK Color
  • NOOK Tablet
  • Tablet/Phone
  • NOOK for Windows 8 Tablet
  • NOOK for iOS
  • NOOK for Android
  • NOOK Kids for iPad
  • PC/Mac
  • NOOK for Windows 8
  • NOOK for PC
  • NOOK for Mac
  • NOOK for Web

Want a NOOK? Explore Now

NOOK Book (eBook)
$10.49
BN.com price
(Save 29%)$14.95 List Price

Overview

Aimée Leduc is happy her long-time business partner René has found a girlfriend. Really, she is. It’s not her fault if she can’t suppress her doubts about the relationship; René is moving way too fast, and Aimée’s instincts tell her Meizi, this supposed love of René’s life, isn’t trustworthy. And her misgivings may not be far off the mark: Meizi disappears during a Chinatown dinner to take a phone call and never comes back to the restaurant. Minutes later, the body of a young man, a science prodigy and volunteer at the nearby Musée, is found shrink-wrapped in an alleyway—with Meizi’s photo in his wallet.

Aimée does not like this scenario one bit, but she can’t figure out how the murder is connected to Meizi’s disappearance. The dead genius was sitting on a discovery that has France’s secret service keeping tabs on him. Now they’re keeping tabs on Aimée. A missing young woman, an illegal immigrant raid in progress, botched affairs of the heart, dirty policemen, the French secret service, cutting-edge science secrets and a murderer on the loose—what has she gotten herself into? And can she get herself—and her friends—back out of it all alive?
Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
At the start of Black’s outstanding 12th novel featuring PI Aimée Leduc (after 2011’s Murder in Passy), Aimée attends a birthday party for Meizi Wu, the girlfriend of René, her agency partner, in the smallest and oldest of Paris’s four Chinatowns. Aimée, who believes the smitten René is rushing the relationship with a virtual stranger, goes to look for Meizi after she disappears from the party. On a snowy, rat-infested street, to Aimée’s horror, she finds the body of Pascal Samour, an adult trade school teacher, half-wrapped in plastic, with Meizi’s photograph in his wallet. Aimée and René are soon immersed in an underworld ring of human trafficking, sweat shops, fake designer goods, and fraud. That the victim turns out to have been conducting cutting-edge experiments in fiber optics adds to the intrigue. Readers will relish realistic villains and an evocative atmosphere that begs for a trip to the City of Lights. 8-city author tour. Agent: Linda Allen, Linda Allen Literary Agency. (Mar.)
From the Publisher
"Outstanding.... Readers will relish realistic villains and an evocative atmosphere that begs for a trip to the City of Lights."—Publishers Weekly (STARRED review)

“The Paris investigator is a perpetual-motion machine, and she’s almost always inappropriately dressed for highspeed galivanting: heels, miniskirts, leopard prints—Aimée never sacrifices style for convenience…. Thickening her plot like a French chef stirring coq au vin, Black throws a murdered scientist, a human-trafficking scandal, the Knights Templar, and revelations about Aimée’s long-presumed-dead mother into the pot, leaving readers nearly as breathless as Aimée, who hurtles her way toward the conclusion. Fans of the series know the formula and don’t mind a bit that it rarely varies. Paris never needs a new look, and neither does Aimée Leduc.” —Booklist

“The pace accelerates as fast as Aimee’s Vespa. The details of the series, Aimee’s love of vintage couture, her love life, and the specter of her mother’s disappearance, all make welcome appearances here. Murder at the Lanterne Rouge is wonderfully plotted, and Cara Black ties together the past and present with élan.” —New York Journal of Books

Praise for the Aimée Leduc series:

"Transcendently, seductively, irresistibly French."—Alan Furst

"Wry, complex, sophisticated, intensely Parisian.... One of the very best heroines in crime fiction today."—Lee Child

"So authentic you can practically smell the fresh baguettes and coffee."—Val McDermid

Library Journal
Murder in the Marais. Murder in Passy. Going strong since 1999, Black's Gallic series has always taken place in a particular district of Paris. But this time the story takes place at the Lanterne Rouge, a restaurant where Aimée meets friend and business partner René and his new Chinese beloved, Meizi, dining with her stern parents. Alas, Meizi is called away by a curious phone call and disappears; when Aimée and René go looking, they find a freshly murdered young man whose wallet contains Meizi's picture. Soon Aimée is scouring Chinatown, discovering a community of cruelly exploited illegal immigrants while also talking to the victim's Armenian great-aunt, who fought in the Resistance. A missing file, a clubby group of friends at the Conservatoire National des Arts et Métiers, a secret about a certain kind of glass, dating from medieval times and set to rock the contemporary world—all figure in this dependably entertaining work. VERDICT Just as there's a change in title (and cover design), so the novel leaves one suspecting that the Aimée Leduc mysteries are about to take a new turn. Always a pleasure to read. [Thirty-city tour.]—Barbara Hoffert, Library Journal
Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781616950620
  • Publisher: Soho Press, Incorporated
  • Publication date: 3/6/2012
  • Series: Aimée Leduc Investigation , #12
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Sales rank: 161,631
  • File size: 3 MB

Meet the Author

Cara Black
Cara Black is the author of eleven previous books in the New York Times bestselling Aimée Leduc series, all of which are available from Soho Crime. She lives in San Francisco with her husband and son and visits Paris frequently.


From the Hardcover edition.
Read More Show Less

Read an Excerpt

Friday Evening

Too small for a bomb, Aimée Leduc thought, nudging
with her high-heeled toe at the tiny red box on the cold
landing outside Leduc Detective’s office. No card. Curious, she
picked up the red gift-wrapped box, sniffed. Nothing floral. A
secret admirer?

The timed hallway light clicked off, plunging the landing
into darkness. She shivered, closed the frosted glass door
behind her, and hit the light switch. The chandelier’s crystal
drops caught the light and reflected in the old patinated mirror
over the fireplace.

For once the high-ceilinged nineteenth-century office was
warm, too warm. The new boiler had gone into overdrive. Her
nose ran at the switch from the chill January evening to a
toasty, warm office. She set down her shopping bags—January
was the season of soldes, the big sales. She’d blown her budget.

Et alors, yogurt and carrots at her desk for the next week.

She slung her coat over the chair and noticed a chip on her
rouge-noir-lacquered pinkie. Zut. She’d have to spring for a
manicure.

The office phone trilled, startling her.

“Tell me you found Meizi’s birthday present, Aimée,” came
the breathless voice of René, her business partner at Leduc
Detective. “The damned jeweler screwed up the delivery.”

“Small red box? You mean it’s not for me?” she joked. She
shook the box and heard a rattle. Maybe those jade earrings
she’d seen him looking at. “You’re serious about Meizi? I mean,
that kind of serious?”

“One day you’ll meet your soul mate, too, Aimée.”

Soul mate? He’d known Meizi what, two months? But
Aimée bit her tongue. So unlike René to rush into something.
A surge of protectiveness hit her. She ought to check this girl
out, see what she could learn from a quick computer background
search. Could be a little ticking bomb, all right.

“Save my life, eh?” René said. “Bring it to the resto, Chez
Chun.”

“But I’m in the middle of a security proposal, René,” she
answered, hoping he didn’t hear the little lie in her voice. She
surveyed their bank of computers, which were running security
checks, updating client systems she’d programmed before she
left. The boring bread and butter of their computer security firm.

“Take a taxi, Aimée,” he said, his voice pleading. “Please.”

Meizi must have something his previous girlfriends from the
dojo didn’t. Better to check her out in person. Aimée put the
box in one coat pocket and dug through the other for her cell
phone.

“A taxi, with this traffic? Métro’s faster, René.”

She grabbed her leopard-print coat and locked the office door.

Twenty minutes later she ran up the Métro steps, perspiring
and dodging commuters. Frustrated, she found herself at the
exit farthest from where she wanted to be, by the Romanesque
church that was now the Musée des Arts et Métiers. Harmonic
Gregorian chanting wafted in the cold air and drifted into the
enveloping night. Petals of snow lodged like nests of white
feathers in the bare-branched trees. What a night, the temperature
falling, a storm threatening in the clouded sky. The
frigid air sliced her lungs, shot up the mini under her coat.

Great. She hadn’t thought her wardrobe through, as usual.
René had better appreciate this. Listen to sense and slow
things down.

She ran across the boulevard into the medieval quartier,
still an ungentrified slice of crumbling hôtel particuliers, narrow
cobbled streets lined by Chinese wholesale luggage and jewelry
shops. Red paper lanterns hanging from storefronts shuddered
in the wind. From a half-open door she heard the pebble-like
shuffling of mah-jongg tiles. This multi-block warren comprised
the oldest and smallest of the four Chinatowns in Paris.
Few knew it existed.

She reached Chez Chun, the oldest or second-oldest building
in Paris, depending on whom you talked to, sagging and timbered
beside a darkened hair salon.

Inside Chez Chun a blast of garlic, chilis, and cloying Chinese
pop music greeted her. The resto, an L-shaped affair, held
ten or so filled tables. Roast ducks dangled behind the takeout
counter. Not exactly an intimate dining spot.

René cornered her at the door. “Took you long enough,
Aimée.” René, a dwarf, was always a natty dresser. Tonight he
wore a new silk tie and a velvet-collared wool overcoat tailored
to his four-foot height.

“Work, René,” she said. “I’m still running programs.”

He raised his hand. “Routine. We’re good till Monday.”

She’d never seen him like this. For once work took second
place.

“Yet look who came out in the cold,” she said, wiping the
snow from her collar. “Why so nervous?”

“Her parents.”

“Use your famous Friant charm,” she said under her breath.
She pulled the gift from her coat pocket. “But why rush this,
René?”

René reached for the box, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Time to listen to my heart, Aimée.”

At the table, Meizi, her black ponytail bobbing, smiled at
them. A warm smile that reached her eyes. “René said you’d be
joining us. We ordered, I hope you don’t mind.” Petite, not
much taller than René, she wore jeans and a green sweater as
she stood ladling abalone soup into small bowls. “Love your
coat, Aimée. Meet my parents.”

Bonsoir,” Aimée said politely.

The unsmiling Monsieur and Madame Wu stared at her.
“My parents speak Wenzhou dialect,” said Meizi with an
apologetic shrug. “I’ll translate.”

Aimée grinned, determined to thaw the atmosphere. Her
black-stockinged thigh caught on the plastic-covered seat.
Under the disapproving stare of Madame Wu, she remembered
René’s complaints about how Meizi’s parents insisted on chaperoning
their dates.

René set the present on the table beside the steaming soup.
“Happy birthday, Meizi.”

Aimée tried not to cringe. Even if it was only earrings, it
was too soon. René was nuts, or crazy in love.

Madame Wu turned and spoke to her husband. Aimée heard
her sharp intonation, and could imagine what was being said.

But Meizi’s face lit up in happiness as she untied the bow
and opened the jewelry box. To Aimée’s surprise, it was a ring.
A pearl ring, luminous and simple. “How thoughtful, René,”
Meizi gasped. “I lost my other ring at the dojo.”

He winked. “I hope the next one will sparkle more.”

Meizi blushed.

Madame Wu pulled the reading glasses down from her
short, very black hair—dyed, Aimée could see—and shook her
head. Round-faced Monsieur Wu, who was much older, averted
his gaze.

Were they criticizing René’s gift or objecting to the relationship?
Perhaps they didn’t want their daughter involved
with a dwarf? Despite her own reservations, Aimée felt a pang
for René.

“Lovely, non?” Aimée said, trying to ease the almost palpable
tension.

“Try it on, Meizi,” René urged.

Aimée noticed the look René and Meizi shared. Lost in
each other. She nudged René. He ignored her.

Madame Wu spoke sharply, and Meizi translated. “My parents
say you’re too kind, René.”

Aimée doubted that. Meizi slipped the ring on her fourth
finger. “Parfait.” Aimée noticed the bitten nails, the worn
calluses on Meizi’s fingertips. Meizi set the ring back in the
box and passed out the steaming soup bowls. A large serving
for René.

Meizi’s phone vibrated on the table. She glanced at the
number and pushed her chair back. “I’ll be right back.”

René’s hand paused on his soupspoon. “Can’t you talk later,
Meizi?”

“Won’t take a moment,” she said. As Meizi went to the
door, Aimée noticed her backward glance, her beetled brow,
before she stepped outside.

The Wus, not ones for conversation, tucked into the soup.
Poor René. Aimée imagined the dinners he’d shared with the
humorless Madame and Monsieur Wu. Had she read Meizi, a
dutiful daughter, all wrong? A young waitress cleared their
bowls, leaving Meizi’s, and brought a platter of fragrant roasted
duck with shaved scallions. At least five more minutes passed.

“Where’s Meizi?” René asked, holding off from serving himself.

“Meizi, oui.” Madame Wu nodded, her chopsticks working
at morsels of duck.

Aimée wished Meizi hadn’t left them in this awkward situation.
She shot René a look. He flipped his phone open, hit
Meizi’s number on his speed dial.

A stooped older woman wearing a stained apron entered
the resto. Madame Wu exchanged an uneasy look with Monsieur
Wu as the old woman made her way to their table.

“Who’s this, another relative?” Aimée asked.

“The busybody who sells tofu and groceries next to her
uncle’s place.” René frowned. “Meizi’s not answering her
phone.”

Suddenly, the old woman shouted in Chinese. Madame Wu
dropped her glasses on the table.

The old woman continued, bellowing, frantic. Loud murmurs
and the clattering of chopsticks filled the resto. Surprised,
Aimée saw diners throw money on their tables, heard chairs
screeching back in haste over the linoleum. As if at some mysterious
signal, people reached for their coats and fled in a mass
exodus.

Madame and Monsieur Wu stood in unison. Without a
word they left the table and were out the door of the resto
without their coats. Not only rude, but unnerving.

The ring in the red velvet box sat by the teapot, forgotten.
Like Meizi’s coat on the back of her chair.

“But what’s happening?” René said, bewilderment on his face.

Aimée rubbed her sleeve on the fogged-up window to see
outside. A red glow reflected in the ice veining the cobble
cracks. Firemen, an ambulance, the police?

The young waitress by the door turned down the pop music.

“What’s the matter?” Aimée asked her.

“Trouble.”

“Trouble as in a robbery?” Jewelry stores abounded in the
quartier, which had once been the diamond-cutting district.

“The old lady said murder.”

“Murder? But who?”

The waitress shrugged. Her fingers worried a tattered menu.
“Behind the luggage shop.”

Aimée sat up. “The luggage shop around the corner?”

The waitress nodded.

Meizi’s parents’ shop. A terrible feeling hit her. Meizi?

René had pulled on his coat and was already halfway to the
door. Aimée scooped the jewelry box into her pocket, left a
wad of francs on the table, and took off behind him.

• • •

Filled with dread, Aimée hurried down the street,
following René past the dimly lit Le Tango, a dance club emitting
a reverberating drumbeat. No one stood outside. It was too
cold for the usual drunken brawls. A horn blared streets away.

A flash of red disappeared around the corner. Madame Wu.

Aimée glimpsed a few Chinese people crowding the short
walkway behind the luggage shop. The dark walkway between
the buildings was crowded with garbage bins, wood palettes,
old cart wheels, the view ending in a dim red lantern shining
on back stairs. Not a hundred yards from the resto. Her shoulders
tightened.

“Meizi lives here above the shop.” René panted, his breath
frosting in the cold. The windows he pointed to were dark.
Where were the Wus?

Aimée fought a rising panic, picking her way through Chinese
people of all ages, mumbling and scraping their feet on
the ice.

“Has someone been . . . ?” Aimée’s question was interrupted
by a woman’s piercing scream. People jostled her shoulder as
they ran away, their footsteps thudding on the snow. Shivering
in the cold and full of misgivings, Aimée crossed the now
deserted walkway.

Not Meizi, non . . . don’t let it be Meizi.

A rat, fat and brown, its tail the length of its long, wet,
furred body, scurried down the steps over the new-fallen snow.
It left a trail of red in its wake.

At the foot of the crumbling stone stairs by Meizi’s door, a
man’s snow-dusted trouser-clad leg sprawled from a wooden
palette. She gasped. Bits of gnawed, bloody flesh, orange peels,
and black wool threads trailed in the snow. Good God. Her
stomach lurched. The rat.

Aimée couldn’t peel her horrified gaze from the corpse,
which was half wrapped in clear plastic, the kind used to secure
merchandise to palettes. The man’s matted red hair, prominent
nose, and cheekbones all melded, smooth and tight, under the
clear plastic. Her gaze traveled to his wide, terrified eyes, then
to his mouth, frozen open in a snowflake-dusted scream.

She stumbled and caught herself on the ice-glazed wall.
Who was he? He hadn’t been here long, judging by the light
coating of snow. Where was Meizi?

Mon Dieu,” René said, stepping back. He took a few steps
and pounded on Meizi’s back door.

No answer.

Aimée gathered up her long leopard-print coat and stepped
with care around the dirtied snow, avoiding the overturned
garbage bin’s contents.

Her insides churned. She shouldn’t have looked at the eyes.

A pair of black-framed glasses lay in the snow beside his
gnawed calf. Crinkled papers, a half-open wallet. Using a dirty
plastic bag to cover her hands, she picked the wallet up. No
cash or credit cards. Cleaned out.

“Come on, Aimée,” René said. “The flics will handle this.
We have to find Meizi.”

Wedged deep in the wallet’s fold she found a creased Conservatoire
des Arts et Métiers library card with an address and
the name Pascal Samour. The photo showed a younger version
of the pale face in plastic before her.

She turned the card over.

“Put that down, Aimée,” René said.

Stuck to the other side of the library card by gummy adhesive
was a smudged photo of a Chinese girl with a glossy ponytail.
Meizi. “But look, René.”

He gasped, and his face fell. He stepped back, shaking his
head. “I don’t understand.”

She caught her breath. “He knew Meizi, René. What if
she . . .”

“You think she’s involved?” he sputtered. “Impossible.”

He punched numbers on his cell phone. “She’s still not
answering. She’s in trouble.”

At that moment, wide flashlight beams blinded Aimée. She
stumbled, dropped the wallet. Static and voices barked from a
walkie-talkie: “First responders, truck thirteen. Alert medical
backup we’re in the walkway.”

“Someone reported this incident,” the pompier medic
shouted, his blue anorak crunching with snow. “Was that you?”

Aimée shook her head.

His colleague brushed past her with his resuscitator equipment.
He pulled on latex gloves, took out clippers and snipped
the plastic away, revealing that the man’s wrists were bound
behind him. The medic felt the man’s carotid artery. A formality.
He shook his head.

A shout erupted. A bedraggled figure came down a side staircase
shaking his fist. He wore a matted fur coat, a sleep mask on
his forehead, and orange slippers. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Aimée hadn’t noticed the crumbling stairs, the brickedup
windows. Or the Permis de Demolir sign on the building.
Condemned.

“How many times have we told you to stay in the shelter,
Clodo?” said the second medic.

“They took my wine,” the homeless man said in a rasping
voice.

She wondered why the rats hadn’t chewed him, too.“Did
you hear anything? Or see this man attacked, Clodo?”

“Every night I hear the angels sing. Then the devils come.
Like you.” A loud burp.

Clochards.” The medic shrugged. “Guess this is one for the
flics.” His partner packed away the resuscitator.

“You’re going to leave him like that?” René shivered beside
her in the footprinted snow. Aimée scanned the ground, but
the wallet with Meizi’s picture had disappeared.
Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 16 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(10)

4 Star

(2)

3 Star

(0)

2 Star

(2)

1 Star

(2)

Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation

Reminder:

  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on BN.com. It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

 
Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously
Sort by: Showing all of 16 Customer Reviews
  • Posted March 7, 2012

    a terrific Paris mystery

    A great, fast-paced mystery set in Paris and full of wonderful Frenchified detail.

    I have read all of Cara Black's mysteries, and this is the best one yet.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 5, 2012

    Aimee Leduc Delivers

    Another great novel by Cara Black. I love reading her mystery novels set in Paris. This one has an interesting plot
    and is fast paced like her other novels. Can't wait to read the next one.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted April 5, 2012

    compelling, enthralling, a must read Paris Aimee Leduc mystery adventure!

    I waited so long for this book and was not disappointed. Aimee, Rene, and Saj continue their adventures. This is a wonderful series, and I hope it never ends.

    Ms. Black can develop more characters as she writes additional books. I would hope, identification and development of characterizations, i.e. Aimee's mother; Morbier's deep secrets; Melac's dedication to Aimee;Rene's filial and romantice love for Aimee. Ms. Black may also wish to include additional neighborhoods in Paris for her next novels.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 26, 2012

    Fantastic like usual!!!

    Another great Aimee Leduc book! Now the long wait for the next book to be written. This book has everything that an Aimee fan would want...vintage designer attire, Paris history, action, bad boys, murder, mystery and some new tidbits about Aimee's family. Keep the series coming Ms. Black!!!!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 29, 2013

    Silk

    A girl wolf walks in

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 7, 2013

    Scarletberry

    Licks his chest.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 3, 2013

    Nightkit

    Run,greystone! Fatal is coming to kill you!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 16, 2013

    Lalalalalalalalalalalalalala

    Smurfs

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 18, 2013

    Farrow

    Hey I am back!

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 8, 2013

    Greystar

    *Gets up* have to do a clan meeting

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 15, 2012

    Love Cara Black's writing.

    This is a recent discovery of Cara Black's Aimee Leduc Series, my first being Murder in the Marais. Aimee's character is fresh and delightful. She definitely embodies the typical French woman who is self-confident and fearless. Cara's crime mysteries are suspenceful and interesting to the end. She vividly stransports us into the heart of Paris as well as its simier side with an authenticity that seems to escape many writers. She is definitely one of my new favorites.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted June 18, 2012

    more from this reviewer

    Chinese Checkers

    The latest Aimee LeDuc mystery has one plot intertwined with two themes. To begin with, we are introduced to a young Chinese woman, Meizi, with whom Aimee’s business partner, Rene, is deeply infatuated. She turns out to be an illegal immigrant, and Aimee determines to find out more about the woman to protect Rene before it might be too late. At the same time, a young Frenchman is found murdered just outside the restaurant where Aimee, Rene and Meizi and her parents were dining.

    During the dinner Meizi receives a phone call and abruptly leaves, disappearing, immediately becoming a suspect in the murder. The victim it develops has made a unique discovery, and Aimee, together with Rene and their part-time geek, Saj, have to somehow find out what it was, while Aimee attempts to protect Meizi from an impending sweep of Chinatown by the police and find the killer.

    Once again the author provides a sweeping panorama of the City of Lights, and perhaps a lot of Aimee’s fashion acquisitions (but after all, isn’t that what Paris, to some degree, is all about?). Smoothly written and tightly plotted, the novel once again raises the question of whether Aimee will ever meet her mother, who is a wanted woman. Good reading, and recommended.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted April 28, 2012

    A NEW TWIST IN MYSTERY WRITING

    THIS IS THE FIRST BOOK THAT I HAVE READ BY THIS AUTHOR. YHE AUTHOR BRINGS IN THE QUESTION OF INCARCERATION OF VARIOUS IMMIGRANT GROUPS AND LABOR PROBLEMS. I HAD A HARD TIME PUTTING THE BOOK DOWN EVEN WHEN OBVIOUSLY SLEEPY.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 6, 2012

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted March 7, 2012

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted December 10, 2012

    No text was provided for this review.

Sort by: Showing all of 16 Customer Reviews

If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
Why is this product inappropriate?
Comments (optional)