The Black Cat
(New York: Viking Penguin, 2010)
Several weeks have passed since Richard Jury was left bereft and guilt-ridden after the tragic accident of Lu Aguilar. Now she lies in a coma, and Jury wants to stay near her. Instead, he has been tossed a case outside of his jurisdiction, in the village of Chesham, where a beautiful young woman has been murdered in the grounds of a pub called the Black Cat. And the only witness to the murder is the black cat.
Did you see anything?
Jury tried to send the cat a message.
Tell me.
The black cat closed its eyes and told him nothing.
Given her gown–Yves St. Laurent–and her shoes–Jimmy Choo, Jury wonders, Was she rich or wed to riches? She carries no identification, and no one in the village has a clue as to who she is.
Then in London, another murder, another beautifully-got-up woman, this time shoes by Louboutin. And then a third. Jury is stumped: he knows these killings are connected, but if this is a serial killer in London, why commit a murder in Chesham?
Meanwhile, Jury’s nemesis, the brilliant (and crazy?) Harry Johnson continues to delight in goading Jury, leading him into a maze of possibilities or impossibilities. And Johnson, along with his preternaturally astute dog, Mungo, just may be the key to it all.
Written with Martha Grimes’s trademark insight and grace, The Black Cat signals the thrilling return of her greatest character. Superintendent Richard Jury is a man of prodigious analytical gifts and charm and empathy.
