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Ropa Vieja
Ropa Vieja
Ropa Vieja
Ebook30 pages28 minutes

Ropa Vieja

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About this ebook

A trade paperback collection of 16 short stories, some new, some published before, all together for the first time, featuring Tess Monaghan, New York Times Bestselling author Laura Lippman’s acclaimed private eye

For the first time together in one collection is a mix of brand new Tess Monaghan short mysteries as well as previously published, award-winning short stories.

Split into three parts—Girls Gone Wild (seven stories about girls behaving badly); Other Cities, Not My Own (four stories about places outside of Baltimore); My Baby Walks the Streets of Baltimore (four stories and a profile)—the inimitable Tess Monaghan, along with some old friends and new faces, is back solving crime.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHarperCollins
Release dateFeb 3, 2009
ISBN9780061846564
Author

Laura Lippman

Laura Lippman was a reporter for twenty years, including twelve years at the Baltimore Sun. Her novels have won almost every prize given for crime fiction in the United States, including the Edgar, Anthony, Nero Wolfe and Agatha awards. She lives in Baltimore with her husband, the writer David Simon who created hit TV series The Wire and Homicide: Life on the Street.

Read more from Laura Lippman

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Book preview

Ropa Vieja - Laura Lippman

Ropa Vieja

From the Short Story Collection

Hardly Knew Her

Laura Lippman

Contents

Begin Reading Ropa Vieja

About the Author

Books by Laura Lippman

Copyright

About the Publisher

ROPA VIEJA

The best Cuban restaurant in Baltimore is in Greektown. It has not occurred to the city’s natives to ponder this, and if an out-of-towner dares to inquire, a shrug is the politest possible reply he or she can expect.

On the fourth day of August, one such native, Tess Monaghan, was a block away from this particular restaurant when she felt that first bead of sweat, the one she thought of as the scout, snaking a path between her breasts and past her sternum. Soon, others would follow, until her T-shirt was speckled with perspiration and the hair at her nape started to frizz. She wasn’t looking forward to this interview, but she was hoping it would last long enough for her Toyota’s air conditioner to get its charge back.

The Cuban Restaurant. Local lore about the place—and it had all been dredged up again, as of late—held that another name had been stenciled over the door on the night of its grand opening many years ago. The Havana Rum Co.? Plantain Plantation? Something like that. Whatever the name, the Beacon-Light had gotten it wrong in the review and the owner had decided it would be easier to change the name than get a correction. It had, after all, been a favorable review, with raves for the food and the novel-for-Baltimore gas station setting. If the local paper said it was The Cuban Restaurant, it was willing to be just that, and the new name was

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