Every Bitter Thing (A Chief Inspector Mario Silva Investigation)

Every Bitter Thing (A Chief Inspector Mario Silva Investigation)

The son of the Venezuelan Foreign Minister is found dead in his apartment in Brasília, the victim of a crime of passion, or so it seems. Due to the high-profile nature of the case, Chief Inspector Mario Silva of Brazil’s Federal Police is called in to investigate. As he delves deeper, he discovers that a chain of murders have occurred throughout Brazil, all with the same MO. They seem to be the work of the same killer—but the victims, of diverse ethnicities, cities of residence, economic classes, and walks of life, have nothing in common. What sinister motive connects these killings? Praise for Every Bitter Thing   “The odd thing about this detective [is that it’s] the elasticity of his ethics, not his essential integrity [that] makes him irresistible.” — The New York Times Book Review   “The book has clever dialogue, a twisting plot and an adventurous glimpse at the seamy parts of Rio de Janeiro, Brasilia and Sao Paulo. The case takes Silva and his team all over Brazil in an engaging, fast-paced story that is hard to put away for the night.” — Minneapolis Star-Tribune “Silva's solid fourth moves briskly, with colorful characters and crackling banter between the detectives.” — Kirkus Reviews   “Mr. Gage is a hell of a good craftsman.” —New York Journal of Books Praise for the Mario Silva series "Gage smoothly expands his focus on the assassination of an ambitious bishop to encompass the controversial and entirely absorbing issue of whether the clergy should involve themselves in the politics of land distribution among the poor." — The New York Times Book Review   "Realistic characters that readers can care about . . . The ultimate story of the haves vs. the have nots." — Detroit Free Press "Highly recommended." — Library Journal , Starred Review "Both a powerful political thriller and gripping crime fiction." — South Florida Sun-Sentinel "Terrifically written, intelligent, and powerfully evocative. Leighton Gage is a master storyteller." —Brian Haig, author of The Night Crew "Achieves both a powerful political thriller and gripping crime fiction in his fascinating debut." — Arizona Daily Star Leighton Gage (1942–2013) was born in New Jersey and had a career in advertising before he turned to writing crime fiction. His seven-book Mario Silva series was inspired by two police officers he knew. Since 1973, he spent part of each year in Santana do Parnaíba, Brazil, where he met his wife, Eide. His books have been translated into French, Italian, Finnish, and Dutch. Chapter One It was Norma Palhares who first steered her new husband toward the offshore oil platforms. At the time, it seemed like a judicious course to follow. In the end, it set their marital ship on the rocks. Jonas would spend only two days a week at home; but the money was good, and he’d only do it for a year or so, just until they had enough saved up to buy a bigger house. But the kids they’d planned on never came, so they’d never needed that bigger house. And, in the meantime, their expenses just kept going up and up. New cars every year, flat-screen televisions all over the house, imported wines, designer clothing, the most expensive restaurants, the finest club in the city, the best hairdressers. Jonas kept bringing the money in, and Norma kept shoveling it out. A year became two, then three. And by the time the divorce became final, they’d been together for more than seven. Jonas moved in with a colleague and began to do what he’d wanted to do for quite some time—embrace the good life. The colleague was another petroleum engineer who had taken a small flat on a busy shopping street in the Leme neighborhood, six blocks from the beach. He, too, had recently separated from his wife and, burdened by child support, would have been happy to have Jonas stay on and help with the rent. But Jonas, who’d managed to conceal a bundle of money from Norma and her lawyer, had no kids and no financial problems. He wanted a place of his own. He settled first in Santa Teresa, taking a small house with a high wall and a big garden. The house, situated in the highest part of Rio’s highest neighborhood, was conveniently located, less than fifty meters from the nearest streetcar stop. The single-story structure was of just the right size: big enough for Jonas’s needs, but small enough to be maintained without a full-time maid. A cleaning lady, who came in three times a week, kept it tidy. From his backyard, Jonas could look down on the mouth of the bay. The headlands, seven hundred meters below, were so close to one another that a Portuguese navigator had once, on a long-ago January day, mistaken them for the entrance to a river. It was he who’d given the place a name it would bear forever after: Rio de Janeiro, River of January. The spectacular view was further enhanced by the Christ Statue up on the Corcovado. The monument, almost forty meters in height, was actually four kilometers away