Anthology

Baltimore Noir (Akashic Noir)

Baltimore Noir (Akashic Noir)

Laura Lippman

Language: English

Pages: 257

ISBN: 1888451963

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Bestselling mystery queenpin Laura Lippman and cohorts dissect their own city with a vengeance.

Aickman's Heirs

The Furthest Horizon: SF Adventures to the Far Future

The Mammoth Book of Locked-Room Mysteries and Impossible Crimes

Knitting Pearls: Writers Writing About Knitting

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

that was it.” He showed me the headline in the News-Post: “Sandbox Killer in Deathbed Confession.” A caption below it read, “Accomplice Sought.” “You’re next,” he said. What if Knucks said that I was with him? I had seen things like that happen in the movies and heard about them on my radio stories. The cops told lies about what people said so they could get other people to confess. “Not me,” I said. “Paper says he had somebody with him. My guess is it was you.” “Not me,” I said, but I

photographs your uncle—” “Yoshi.” “Your Uncle Yoshi sent me. Beautiful!” “Thank you,” Tania said. Her face was hot. It did not feel like her face at all. “Don’t thank me,” Gary said, placing a heavy shoulder bag and a smaller, flatter case on the bed, then turning back toward her and clasping his hands in front of his chest. “I should thank you, Tania. For giving me this chance.” Gary smiled, nodded his head, made a little bow toward her. He was maybe thirty-five, but looked younger, with a

Jews. They don’t move here looking for big-city lights. Wherever they settle, even if it’s New York or L.A., they build their own small town.” Again that quick touch. “Take you. Your address says you live in Baltimore, but I know that you’re really from the village of Park Heights. It might as well be a thousand miles from anywhere. You shop at your own stores, eat in your own restaurants, keep with your own kind. It’s true, isn’t it?” She nodded. “Especially for the girls,” he said. “I mean,

she was just a little thing, no more than 5’2", barely one hundred pounds. I used to carry her to bed and, well, show her other ways I could manipulate her weight. She liked me to sit her on the marble counter in her master bath, far forward on the edge, so I was supporting most of her weight. Because of the way the mirrors were positioned, we could both watch, and it was a dizzying infinity, our eyes locked into our own eyes and into each other’s. I know guys who call a sink fuck the old

been killed by a head-on collision while driving on pills down to Ocean City. It had been a mistake to come back here, Weeks thought. What could he possibly find but sadness? The old story of the middle-aged man who tries in vain to find the lost spirit of his youth in a place that’s forever changed. It was pathetic, ridiculous. What he should do is just turn around now, go back to his car, and forget this absurd quest. Head back out the 95 and dive into the safety of his king-sized bed at the

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