This one I found surprisingly sophisticated. The plot quite complex.
Private eyeLew Archer finds himself the confidant of a wealthy, violent family with a load of trouble on their hands – including an oil spill, a missing girl, a lethal dose of nembutal, a six figure ransom and a stranger afloat, face down, off a private beach.
It’s an easy read murder mystery with a charming protagonist.
“She was a large woman,” Lippman writes. “OK, fine. She was fat.” But Mrs. Blossom is comfortable with her body although she occasionally feels self-conscious when she senses others are judging her.
She is in her late 60s now, widowed and a grandmother, but thanks to a winning lottery ticket she found in a parking lot, she has money for the first time in her life. One of the things she does with it is take her first trip to Europe.
On the cross-Atlantic flight, and again when she reaches Paris, younger men begin showing Mrs. Blossom a great deal of attention. She rather likes this, although she wonders if they might be after her money. But soon, after she boards the cruise ship to tour the Seine, she becomes aware that she is being followed. Eventually her stateroom is ransacked and a stranger tries to mug her. …
In Painters Mill, Ohio, the Amish and “English” residents have lived side by side for two centuries.
But sixteen years ago, a series of brutal murders shattered the peaceful farming community. A young Amish girl named Kate Burkholder survived the terror of the Slaughterhouse Killer . . . but ultimately decided to leave her community.
A wealth of experience later, Kate has been asked to return to Painters Mill as chief of police. Her Amish roots and big-city law enforcement background make her the perfect candidate. She’s certain she’s come to terms with her past―until the first body is discovered in a snowy field.
Kate vows to stop the killer before he strikes again. But to do so, she must betray both her family and her Amish past―and expose a dark secret that could destroy her.
The small city of Ubud has developed a serious tourism industry, promoted as an arts and culture centre.
More than three million foreign tourists each year, many of those NOT YOUNG. (Youth are on some beach instead.) I saw many families with young kids, as well.
It was no “Magic Bus” experience. They did this trip the hard way — independently.
They didn’t have the first Lonely Planet guide, rather only the first BIT (“Bible of the East”), a free half a dozen or so duplicated foolscap sheets stapled together with no cover.
Rick’s posted travel photos of himself and best pal Gene reflecting on how the journey through Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, and Nepal changed his life.
My own travels in Europe 1976 in an orange Volkswagen van were a piece of cake compared with the Hippie Trail. I had no interest — though a High School friend, Ian Baird, did end up in Kathmandu drinking Chai and eating pie on Freak Street. He got quite sick as did almost all the westerners who tried that adventure.