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Lawrence Block, A Long Line of Dead Men

Das Buch mit dem vielleicht ungewöhnlichstem Plot von allen fasziniert mich immer wieder, auch weil die Identität des Mörders so unerwartet und doch so logisch erscheint. Und auch der Schluß ist völlig anders als zu erwarten war und lässt das Buch vollends aus der Reihe tanzen. Diesmal schaffte ich es von Anfang bis Ende bei meiner Taschenbuchausgabe zu bleiben. Leicht war es aber nicht.

Einen unübersetzbaren Witz wollte ich endlich mal hier festhalten, neben einem anderen Zitat:
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"God, it's such a guy thing," Elaine said. "Thirty-one grown men sitting around wooden tables eating meat and checking for chest pains. You can just about smell the testosterone, can't you?"
"I'm beginning to understand why they didn't tell their wives about it."
"I'm not putting it down," she insisted. "I'm just pointing out, how intrinsically masculine the whole thing is. Keeping it all a secret, only seeing each other once a year, talking solemnly about Important Subjects. Can you imagine the whole club composed of women?"
"It would drive the restaurant crazy," I said. "Thirty-one separate checks."
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We were in our apartment now. "I don't know," she said, slipping both arms around my waist. "What's the difference between mashed potatoes and pea soup?"
"Anybody can mash potatoes."
"I already told you that one, huh?"
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(Lawrence Block, A long line of dead men, 1994)