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In Grace F. Edwards's second mystery about the adventures of Mali Anderson, former New York City police officer, the sleuth investigates the murder of a popular and beautiful bartender named Thea at a Harlem watering hole. After Anderson's friend Kendrick is arrested for the murder, she sets out to clear his name and find the real culprit. It's hard for anyone to believe that Kendrick, a good natured young man, could have shot a woman in the face point blank. As Anderson unravels the mystery, Edwards provides her readers with a fascinating portrait of everyday life in Harlem. Anderson learns a great deal about the deceased woman's checkered past simply by listening to the gossip in two local beauty salons. Her other sources include the local bookie, Too Hot, and Flyin' Man, a wheelchair-bound former cat burglar whose two dogs propel him through the neighborhood at breakneck speed.
Anderson learns that Thea was a former beauty queen, an aspiring singer, a woman who never got very close to anyone but attracted many men. At the time of Thea's death, she was romantically involved with at least three men: Kendrick, the owner of the bar, and a prominent local politician. All three men are suspects. After a wealthy white woman hires Anderson to investigate Thea's past, the detective doesn't know what to think--but she does know she has to think fast, because people connected to the case are perishing right and left. In this book, Grace Edwards has managed to tell a pretty darn good story and capture the rhythm of life on the streets of Harlem.-- Jill Marquis
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From Kirkus Reviews
``They got my brother!'' hairdresser Bertha Owen screams into ex-cop Mali Anderson's phone at 4 a.m. Kendrick Owen isn't dead, but he might as well be: The corpse in the alley behind the Half-Moon Bar is Thea Morris, Kendrick's fellow bartender and girlfriend, a former beauty queen shot dead on her 33rd birthday. The cops, unmoved by this year's millionth killing in Harlem, like the neatness of tagging Kendrick for the murder. But Bert swears her little brother wouldn't have done such a thing, and Kendrick's voice and acting coach Teddi Lovette, whose race and money are likely to have a lot more pull where it matters, offers Mali $20,000 to get the lowdown on Thea's life. Mali soon finds that there's a lot to learn, most of it pretty low. Thea was pregnant (by Kendrick? by her more upscale lover, veteran senator Edwin Michaels?), grasping, and none too fussy about how she got the money to support the wide swath she was determined to cut in the uptown social circles Edwards (If I Should Die, 1997, etc.) brings to life so well. But when the smoke finally clears--Thea's murder is only the call to arms--the heavy hitters, inevitably, will be people with a lot more to lose, and a lot fewer scruples about how to save it all, than the slain beauty queen and the loyal kid who loved her. More successful as social history than as mystery; the stench of big-city corruption and racist fear is so powerful from the opening scene onward that it's obvious where all the bodies will turn out to be buried. -- Copyright ©1998, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
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