Three, Imperfect Number

Italian Commissario Martusciello investigates two murders, both victims unmarked by violence and in the fetal position, with the aid of a beautiful blind woman who can sense people's fear, guilt, and innocence.

ldquo;The Rinaldi thrills us with a transgressive writing full of allusions and puns that make it intriguing” —The Daily Mirror

“There are books that can pull the reader into their world from the first pages; such is the case of Three, Imperfect Number” — La Gazzetta del Mezzogiorno

“Rinaldi takes the reader into the heart of Naples, one of the western suburbs dear to her, and into the heart of the characters that fill the scene of the novel.” —La Repubblica

“A Neapolitan writer, writing blood and full of surprises, a mystery, a Naples with strong color” — Donna Moderna

Autorentext
Patrizia Rinaldi lives and works in Naples, where she was born in 1960. She is the author of numerous works of crime fiction, all published in Italy. Three, Imperfect Number is her first work to appear in English.

Klappentext

A blind woman leads her Naples police colleagues through the darkness in this distinctive crime thriller.

A report has landed on Commissario Martusciello's desk. The lifeless body of the singer Jerry Vialdi-aka Gennaro Mangiavento-has been found at the Naples football stadium; another corpse, this one a Jane Doe, has been discovered in the Bentegodi Stadium in Verona, hundreds of miles away.
The bodies were left in a fetal position and there are no signs of physical violence: the method and the madness behind it appear to hide some unutterable secret. Conclusion: a daring challenge left by a psychopath for the police-who are stabbing in the dark with no idea where to begin. All except for superintendent Blanca Occhiuzzi: beautiful, blind from birth, forced by the dark that envelops her to perceive the world through only four senses, she feels the fear in people; she feels their guilt and their innocence. It is she who takes Martusciello by the hand, guiding him into the mind of a murderer . . .