Lady in the Lake (eBook)

Laura Lippman (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2019 | 1. Auflage
304 Seiten
Faber & Faber (Verlag)
978-0-571-33946-4 (ISBN)

Infos

**NOW A MAJOR APPLE TV+ SERIES STARRING NATALIE PORTMAN AND MOSES INGRAM** 'A real triumph of storytelling and suspense.' Daily Mail 'A very special kind of twisted genius.' SARAH HILARY 'Complex, hard-hitting and unflinching' Irish Times 'Aching, thoughtful, and compulsively readable.' Vanity Fair A NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER Cleo Sherwood disappeared eight months ago. Aside from her parents and the two sons she left behind, no one seems to have noticed. It isn't hard to understand why: it's 1966 and neither the police, the public nor the papers care much when Negro women go missing. Maddie Schwartz - recently separated from her husband, working her first job as an assistant at the Baltimore Sun - wants one thing: a byline. When she hears about an unidentified body that's been pulled out of the fountain in Druid Hill Park, Maddie thinks she is about to uncover a story that will finally get her name in print. What she can't imagine is how much trouble she will cause by chasing a story that no-one wants her to tell. What readers are saying: ***** 'A twisty, thrilling, mesmerising ride. I couldn't put it down!' ***** 'It was a delight reading this book. I enjoyed the insight into each character. The mystery was always there, but with a different twist.' ***** 'It really grabbed me. . . more than a simple detective novel.' ***** 'The absolute best Lippman to date. . . This novel grabbed me in the first pages and didn't let go.'

Laura Lippman's novels have won many crime fiction prizes, including the Edgar, Anthony, Agatha and eDunnit Awards. Her more recent works include Sunburn, a Waterstones Thriller of the Month in 2018, Lady in the Lake, currently being adapted by Apple TV+, and Dream Girl, shortlisted for the 2022 CWA Ian Fleming Steel Dagger.

Autor

Laura Lippman was a reporter for twenty years, including twelve years at The Baltimore Sun. Her novels have won numerous crime fiction prizes, including the Edgar, Anthony, Nero Wolfe and Agatha awards in the US. As well as featuring in numerous end of year lists, her most recent novel Sunburn (2018) was nominated for the CWA Gold Dagger Award, won the eDunnit Award and was a Waterstones Book of the Month.

Textauszug

October 1965

“What do you mean you’ve invited Wallace Wright to dinner?”

Maddie Schwartz longed to take the question back the second it was out of her mouth. Maddie Schwartz did not act like women in television variety shows and songs. She neither nagged nor schemed. She did not need to hear a Jack Jones song to remind her to fix her hair and makeup before her husband came through the door at day’s end. Maddie Schwartz prided herself on being unflappable. Invite the boss home at the last minute? Surface with two never-before-mentioned cousins from Toledo, show up with an old high school friend? Maddie was always ready for the challenge. She ran her household much as her mother had run hers, with a sly wit and effortless—effortless-seeming—organization.

Unlike her mother, she accomplished these domestic miracles by spending freely. Milton’s shirts went to the best laundry in North Baltimore, although it was miles from her usual routes. (She dropped off, he picked up.) A cleaning girl came twice a week. Maddie’s “famous” yeast rolls were out of a can, her freezer full of staples. She used caterers for the Schwartzes’ most ambitious parties, the New Year’s Day open house for Milton’s colleagues from the law firm and the spontaneous spring party that was such a success that they felt obliged to keep having it. People really loved that party, spoke about it throughout the year with sincere anticipation.

Yes, Maddie Schwartz was good at entertaining and therefore happy to do it. She took particular pride in her ability to throw together a dinner party with almost no warning. Even when she wasn’t enthusiastic about a certain guest, she never kvetched. So Milton was within his rights to be surprised by her peevish tone on this afternoon.

“I thought you’d be excited,” Milton said. “He is a little, well, famous.”

Maddie regrouped quickly. “Don’t mind me, I’m just worried that he’s used to dining in a grander style than I can manage on short notice. But maybe he would be charmed by meatloaf and scalloped potatoes? I guess life is all lobster thermidor and steak Diane when you’re Wallace Wright.”

“He says he knew you a little? Back in school.”

“Oh we were years apart,” Maddie said, knowing her generous husband would infer that Wallace Wright was the older one. He was, in fact, two years younger, a grade behind her at The Park School—and many rungs down the high school social ladder.

He had been Wally Weiss then. Today, one could barely turn on WOLD-TV without being subjected to Wallace Wright. He hosted the noon news show, where he interviewed celebrities passing through Baltimore, and also did “Wright Makes Right,” a relatively new evening segment that took on consumer complaints. Lately, when the beloved WOLD anchor Harvey Patterson enjoyed the rare evening off, Wallace filled in for him.

And, although it was supposed to be a closely held secret at WOLD, Wally also was the voiceless tramp who hosted Donadio, the taped cartoon show that aired on Saturdays. Baltimore’s unimaginative answer to Bozo, Donadio never spoke and his face was hidden beneath layers of makeup. But Maddie had seen through the ruse when Seth watched the show as a child.

Seth was a junior in high school now. It had been years since she’d watched Donadio, or even WOLD. She preferred WBAL, the number one station.

“He’s a nice guy, this Wallace Wright,” Milton continued. “Not full of himself at all. I told you, we’ve been playing singles at that new tennis barn in Cross Keys.”

Milton was a bit of a name-dropper and just silly enough to be impressed by playing tennis with a television personality, even one known as the Midday Fog because of his distinctive baritone. Sweet, starstruck Milton. Maddie could not begrudge his tendency toward hero worship, given how much she had benefited from it. Eighteen years into their marriage, he still had unguarded moments in which he gazed at her as if unsure how he had ever won such a prize.

She loved him, she really did, they had a harmonious life together and while she publicly made the right lamentations about their only child’s heading to college in two years, she actually couldn’t wait. She felt as if she had been living in one of those shoebox dioramas Seth had built—she had built, let’s be honest—in grade school, and now the lid was coming off, the walls breaking down. Milton had started taking flying lessons recently, asking how she felt about a second home in Florida. Did she like the Atlantic side or the gulf? Boca or Naples?

Are those the only choices? Maddie had found herself wondering. The two sides of Florida? Certainly the world is bigger than that. But she had only said that she thought she would like Naples.

“See you soon, darling.” She hung up the phone, allowed herself the sigh she had kept at bay. It was late October, the High Holy Days finally over. She was tired of entertaining, exasperated by disruptions to her routines. Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur were supposed to be a time to reflect, take stock, but Maddie couldn’t remember the last time she had been able to go pray before breaking the fast. The house had finally returned to normal and now Milton wanted to bring a guest home, Wally Weiss of all people.

Yet it was essential to impress Wallace Wright with dinner. The chicken breasts thawing in the fridge would keep another day. And meatloaf, even with scalloped potatoes, wasn’t the note she wanted to hit. Maddie knew a clever way to make a beef casserole that everyone loved; maybe it wasn’t Julia Child, but there were never leftovers. No one guessed that the key ingredient was two cans of Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup, plus several generous splashes of wine. The trick was to surround such a casserole with things that suggested elegance, planning—biscuits from Hutzler’s bakery, which Maddie kept in the freezer for just this reason; a cheeseless Caesar salad that Milton would dress at the table, then chop using the same technique as the waiters at Marconi’s. She would send Seth to Goldman’s for a cake. It was a chance to practice his driving, after all. She would tell him that he could have whatever fast food he wanted, too. He would choose trayf, no doubt, but Milton asked only that they keep a kosher home.

Maddie checked the bar, but they were always well stocked. There would be two rounds of cocktails before dinner—oh, she would do something clever with nuts, or maybe serve pâté on toast points—wine flowing through dinner, brandy and cognac after. She didn’t remember Wally drinking much, but then she hadn’t spoken to him since the summer she was seventeen. Nobody drank then. Everybody in Maddie’s crowd drank now.

He would be different, of course. Everyone changes, but pimply teenage boys especially so. They say it’s a man’s world, but you’ll never hear anyone claim it’s a boy’s world. That realization had been brought literally home to Maddie when Seth entered high school. She had told him to be patient, that he would sprout to his father’s height, that his face would be smooth and handsome, and her prophecies had already come to pass.

She could never have said the same thing to Wally. Sad little Wally, how he had yearned for her. She had used that yearning, when it was to her advantage. But then, that’s what girls do, that’s the power available to them. Who was he kidding? He may have been taller, the pimples gone, the hair tamed, but everyone in Northwest Baltimore knew he was a Jew. Wallace Wright!

Was Wally married? Maddie recalled a wife, possibly a divorce. The wife wasn’t Jewish, she was pretty sure of that. She decided to balance the table with another couple, the Rosengrens, who would provide the wide-eyed wonder that Maddie would have a hard time faking. She could never see Wallace without seeing Wally. Would it be the same for him? Would he see the Maddie Morgenstern that lurked inside Maddie Schwartz? And would he consider the new version an improvement? She had been a beautiful girl, there was no use pretending otherwise, but terribly, almost tragically naive. In her twenties, she had lost herself to raising a baby, risked frumpiness.

At thirty-six, she had the best of both worlds. She saw a beautiful woman in her mirror, still youthful, but able to afford the things that kept you looking that way. She had one streak of silvery hair, which she had decided to consider incongruous, dashing. She plucked the rest.

When she opened the door to Wally that evening, his open admiration was delightful to see.

“Young lady, is your mother at home?”

That irritated her. It was such obvious flattery, something one would say to a simpering grandmother who wore too much rouge. Did Wally think she required that kind of buildup? She tried to hide her frostiness as she served the first round of drinks and snacks.

“So,” Eleanor Rosengren said after gulping her first highball, “did you really know each other at Park?” The Rosengrens, like Milton, had gone to public high school.

“A little,” Maddie admitted with a laugh, a laugh meant to signal: It was so long ago, let’s not bore the others.

“I was in love with her,” Wally said.

“You were not.” Laughing,...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 23.7.2019
• Verlagsort: London
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror ► Historische Kriminalromane
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror ► Krimi / Thriller
• Schlagworte: 1960s • adultery • American Dirt • Baltimore • blood orange • Civil Rights • druid hill • Harlan Coben • historical mystery • Karin Slaughter • Lee Child • lisa jewell • Mark Billingham • Martina Cole • Megan Abbott • newspaper reporter • One of us is lying • police scandal • stephen king books • The Silent Patient • where the crawdads sing
• ISBN-10: 0-571-33946-8 / 0571339468
• ISBN-13: 978-0-571-33946-4 / 9780571339464