The Shape of Snakes - Tapa blanda

"Harrowing. . . . These complex characters can be cunning, deceitful, even mad-which is exactly what makes them such absorbing company." --"The New York Times Book Review " "Minette Walters is a master at building engrossing tales around a single, life-shattering event." --"The Washington Post Book World" "An intricate, unpredictable, and engrossing tale of passion and revenge." --"The San Diego Union Tribune" "A harrowing thriller. . . Seethe[s] with rage and violence . . . A terrific example of psychological suspense." --"Chicago Tribune" "" "No other first-division crime novelist, in such a short career, has written with such thematic variety. The only factors that unite her works are a penchant for dark psychological perception - and their excellence." -"The Times," London "Walters peels the layers from everyone's terrible secrets. The results are stunning." -"Winnipeg Free Press" "Minette Walters has emerged as one of the [mystery] genre's superior writers. Her novels are probing and intelligent, her characters riveting and her plots subtle and demanding." -"Ottawa Citizen" "From the Hardcover edition." " No other first-division crime novelist, in such a short career, has written with such thematic variety. The only factors that unite her works are a penchant for dark psychological perception - and their excellence." - "The Times," London " Walters peels the layers from everyone' s terrible secrets. The results are stunning." - "Winnipeg Free Press" " Minette Walters has emerged as one of the [mystery] genre' s superior writers. Her novels are probing and intelligent, her characters riveting and her plots subtle and demanding." - "Ottawa Citizen" "From the Hardcover edition."

Exposing the horrifying consequences when communities ignore the people who need them the most, The Shape of Snakes is the psychological mystery from crime queen Minette Walters. November 1978. Britain is on strike. The dead lie unburied, rubbish piles in the streets - and somewhere in West London a black woman dies in a rain-soaked gutter. Her passing would have gone unmourned but for the young woman who finds her and who believes - apparently against reason - that Annie was murdered. But whatever the truth about Annie - whether she was as mad as her neighbours claimed, whether she lived in squalor as the police said - something passed between her and Mrs Ranelagh in the moment of death which binds this one woman to her cause for the next twenty years. But why is Mrs Ranelagh so convinced it was murder when by her own account Annie died without speaking? And why would any woman spend twenty painstaking years uncovering the truth - unless her reasons are personal . . . ?