by Grimes, Martha

Investigating a double homicide involving a heist at an art gallery and casino, Scotland Yard's Richard Jury teams up with a gang of kids to solve a case with ties to astrophysics, the Tanzanian gem mines, and an act of revenge.

Martha Grimes is the bestselling author of more than thirty books, twenty-four of them featuring Richard Jury. The recipient of the 2012 Mystery Writers of America's Grand Master Award, Grimes lives in Bethesda, Maryland.

Mystery Writers of America Grand Master Grimes' twenty-fourth mystery starring Richard Jury gets off to a breakneck start, with London cab driver Robbie Parsons picking up, first, a well-heeled American couple and dropping them off at an exclusive casino. Robbie then witnesses the couple dropping to the ground, dead from gunshot wounds. His next passenger is the gunman, who orders Robbie to drive through London. Besides the fast action, it's fascinating to see how Robbie uses a London cabdriver's deep familiarity with the streets ("the Knowledge") to keep himself alive. Things span out from here. The gunman escapes into Waterloo Station. Detective Superintendent Jury takes on the case, which moves into Tanzania, Nairobi, Reno, and a London pub. (Longtime Grimes readers will remember that there is always a pub connection.) The flaw in the mystery is that it goes too far afield from Jury's usual stomping grounds, mixing in some of the jumpier elements of spy thrillers with police procedure and somewhat blurring the impact of the action. Still, Jury's devoted readership will find much to enjoy. Copyright 2018 Booklist Reviews.

Detective Superintendent Richard Jury (Vertigo 42, 2014, etc.) joins with the usual friends and relations and a covey of London black cab drivers to unravel a spectacularly public double murder.Moments after cabbie Robbie Parsons drops American astrophysicist David Moffit and his beautiful British wife, Rebecca, in front of the Artemis Club, the exclusive casino/art gallery run by enterprising Leonard Zane, a man steps out of nowhere and shoots the two visitors dead. Even more remarkably, he gets into Robbie's cab, takes it to Waterloo Station, and catches a train to Heathrow without breaking a sweat. Unbeknownst to his passenger, Robbie has alerted his buddies in the black-cab network, and one of them, Patty Haigh, follows the shooter, steals a ticket for his flight to Dubai, chats him up, and ends up traveling in the next first-class pod. Patty, the latest in a long line of Grimes' tough, unflappable, endlessly resourceful preteen female heroes, reflects of her companion, w ho's booked passage under the name Bushiri Banerjee, that "for somebody who shoots people, he was pretty nice." Meanwhile, back in London, Jury is dispatching his old friend Melrose Plant to Nairobi, where Banerjee has flown from Dubai, and planted antiques dealer Marshall Trueblood as a dealer in the Artemis Club while Jury himself tries to figure out why Banerjee felt the need to shoot both Moffits and how their murders might be connected to the remarkably coincidental shooting of one Danny Morrissey in the Metropole, the Reno hotel Zane also owned, eight years ago. Many more coincidences will follow—some actually coincidental, others not so much—seriously denting but never wrecking the mystery at the core of a whimsically digressive adventure in which Jury has to fight for attention, let alone resolution. Grimes' endlessly fertile imagination conjures up new people, places, and episodes that you'll want to hear all about however tangential they end up being to the dubious case that's supposed to tie them all together. Copyright Kirkus 2018 Kirkus/BPI Communications. All rights reserved.

He was a dead man and he knew it.

As soon as he ceased to be of any use to this bastard, the guy would shoot him.

So Robbie Parsons had to keep on being of use.

He was glad he'd earned his medallion; he was grateful for all of those months of routing and re-routing himself around London that had qualified him to drive a black cab.

Robbie had maps in his mind. He would entertain himself, while cruising around looking for a fare, by setting destinations involving landmarks he would either have to pass or not pass in the course of getting to a certain location. Maps in his mind, so no matter where this black guy told him to go (and he'd told him nothing thus far), Robbie knew how to take the longest way round without raising suspicions. The guy behind him wasn't a Londoner, but then most Londoners didn't know sod-all about London, anyway.

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