Brenner and God (Melville International Crime)
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Introducing one of Europe's most widely popular detective series
Wanting out of high-stress detective work, Simon Brenner takes a calming job as a chauffeur, shuttling a two-year-old girl back and forth in a soothing ride along the Autobahn between her father, a construction tycoon in Munich, and her mother, an abortion doctor in Vienna.
Except then one day he stops at a gas station to buy the little girl a chocolate bar and comes back to find she’s been kidnapped . . . and suddenly he’s out of a job, thoroughly stressed out, and a detective again.
With no shortage of leads—both the father’s latest development and the mother’s clinic are under siege by protestors—Brenner makes his way through a powerful cast of characters and a growing pile of bodies to solve the crime in the only way he knows how: By being in precisely the right place at the worst possible time.
Told with sharp-edged wit, suspense that’s even sharper, and one of the most quirky, hilarious, and compelling narrative voices ever.
with you.” “There are easier ways to go about it.” “I wanted to make sure that we weren’t being shadowed.” And at that moment, as the man offered him his hand, it occurred to Brenner where he’d read the heading “Zone of Transparency.” “Sebastian Knoll,” the man chipperly introduced himself. I don’t know if it was because of the sleepless night in the holding cell at the police station, or simply the state of shock Brenner had been in for thirty hours now, that could explain why he suddenly
he’d felt refreshed upon waking up. He lay there so delicately covered, bundled, and swaddled, all in clean white, where a man might get to thinking, you see, you could live like this if you bought into marriage. And it wasn’t just the bedding he was covered with that was white but also the bed frame that cradled him on all sides like he was a newborn. Or let’s put it this way: Brenner was just now realizing that he’d fallen asleep in the bathtub last night, and slept so soundly that there had
but the doctor hardened at his remark, and it wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d driven straight to the Hotel Imperial. “I just meant,” Brenner said, “if they were that poor. Twelve years old and life already screwed up. You’ve got to help. You can’t just force morality about becoming a mother on a child like that. Women used to die because of illegal abortions!” “I didn’t come to you for consolation,” she interrupted him. “My problem is that I can’t tell the police. I was even prepared to.
ear and weariness in his bones and medicated sleep in his veins—Brenner couldn’t understand what Milan could possibly mean. “What does that mean, ‘she’ll be back there in no time?’ ” he murmured into his sweaty pillow. And Milan said, “If she keeps on like this, she’ll be pregnant again in no time.” “Aha,” Brenner said, excitement tugging on his hair and the sleeping pill tugging on his leaden toes. “But nothing to worry about,” Milan said. “Nothing for you to worry about, or nothing for her
non-loves, non-conversations, non-thoughts! I’ll say it up front to all of them, walk right in, my door is wide open for you! It’s always difficult with existences. That’s where the problems start. And they stop with the people who’ll drag another person through the shit. Because of a video! And Brenner with no idea what’s even on the video. But before you go conjuring thoughts into existence now, too, along the lines of maybe Reinhard with the goat or Congressman Stachl with the rabbit, I can