Cocktail Talk: Death of a Dutchman
I’ve had only one other Magdalen Nabb Cocktail Talk, even though I’ve now read four of her books starring Marshal Guarnaccia, a persistent marshal in the Carabinieri (the second police force in Italy, one that grew out of the military and has a sometimes helpful, sometimes less relationship with the Polizia di Stato). The books take place in Florence, a city I’ve visited and loved lots, so I should really have a few more of Cocktail Talks from said books – here’s hoping the future leads to that very occurrence, especially as I find myself very fond of the Marshal, whose steady, non-flashy, neighborhood cop-y sense and regular Italian sensibility are very enticing in a way. Not to mention that he interacts with barmen serving Campari, which I always like to read about.
“Let’s hope not. I don’t want any shoot-outs with terrorists taking place in my bar, thanks.”
And he, too, began to scan the innocent-looking tourists.
“Rubbish! That sort of thing only happens in Rome . . .”
But both them touched the metal edge of the counter to ward off evil, and the barman, dropping ice-cubes into three Camparis for an outside table, kept an eye on the Marshal’s broad back.
–Magdalen Nabb, Death of a Dutchman
