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With no clues as to the murdered woman's identity, all Wexford has to go on is his imagination. The body found under the hedge was that of a middle-aged woman, biggish and gaunt. The grey eyes were wide and staring, and in them, Detective Chief Inspector Wexford thought he saw a sardonic gleam, a glare, even in death, of scorn. But that must have been his imagination, and his imagination was almost all he had to go on. The woman was a stranger. Her handbag held little more than three keys on a ring and forty-two pounds in a new wallet. There was nothing to give him her address, her occupation or even her identity — let alone any clues that might lead to her killer. The woman was dead but, as Wexford knew only too well, death by murder is, in a way, not an ending but a beginning. From the Trade Paperback edition.
Buchkauf
A Sleeping Life, Ruth Rendell
- Sprache
- Erscheinungsdatum
- 1992
- product-detail.submit-box.info.binding
- (Paperback)
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- Titel
- A Sleeping Life
- Sprache
- Englisch
- Autor*innen
- Ruth Rendell
- Verlag
- Random House UK
- Erscheinungsdatum
- 1992
- Einband
- Paperback
- Seitenzahl
- 192
- ISBN10
- 0091743249
- ISBN13
- 9780091743246
- Reihe
- Inspektor Wexford
- Schlagwörter
- Belletristik, Krimi & Thriller, Krimi, Thriller, Britische Literatur, Klassische Krimis, Detektive
- Originaltitel
- A sleeping life
- Bewertung
- 3,75 von 5 Sternen
- Beschreibung
- With no clues as to the murdered woman's identity, all Wexford has to go on is his imagination. The body found under the hedge was that of a middle-aged woman, biggish and gaunt. The grey eyes were wide and staring, and in them, Detective Chief Inspector Wexford thought he saw a sardonic gleam, a glare, even in death, of scorn. But that must have been his imagination, and his imagination was almost all he had to go on. The woman was a stranger. Her handbag held little more than three keys on a ring and forty-two pounds in a new wallet. There was nothing to give him her address, her occupation or even her identity — let alone any clues that might lead to her killer. The woman was dead but, as Wexford knew only too well, death by murder is, in a way, not an ending but a beginning. From the Trade Paperback edition.