Product Description

A Reg Wexford mystery. The Chief Inspector could discover no motive, no reason and no suspect for Mrs Hathall's daughter-in-law's murder - all he had were his own intuitive suspicions. Probably Angela Hathall really had picked up a stranger, and that stranger had killed her. But why the doubt?

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #109845 in Books
• Published on: 1994-04-21
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 224 pages

Excerpted from Shake Hands for Ever by Ruth Rendell. Copyright © 1994. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter 1

The woman standing under the departures board at Victoria station has a flat rectangular body and an iron-hard rectangular face. A hat of fawn-coloured corrugated felt rather like a walnut shell encased her head, her hands were gloved in fawn-coloured cotton, and at her feet was the durable but scarcely used brown leather suitcase she had taken on her honeymoon forty-five years before. Her eyes scanned the scurrying commuters while her mouth grew more and more set, the lips thinning to a hairline crack.

She was waiting for her son. He was one minute late and his unpunctuality had begun to afford her a glowing satisfaction. She was hardly aware of this pleasure and, had she been accused of it, would have denied it, just as she would have denied the delight all failure and backsliding in other people brought her. But it was present as an undefined sense of well-being that was to vanish almost as soon as it had been born and be succeeded on Robert’s sudden hasty arrival by her usual ill-temper. He was so nearly on time as to make remarks on his lateness absurd, so she contented herself with offering her leathery cheek to his lips saying:

There you are then.

'Have you got your ticket?' said Robert Hathall.
She hadn’t. She knew that money had been tight with him for the three years of his second marriage, but that was his fault. Paying her share would only encourage him.
'You’d better go and get them,' she said, 'unless you want us to miss the train', and she held even more tightly her zipped up handbag.

He was a long time about it. She noted that the Eastbourne train, stopping at Toxborough, Myringham and Kingsmarkham, was due to depart at six-twelve, and it was five past now. No fully formed uncompromising thought that it would be nice to miss the train entered her mind, any more than she had consciously told herself it would be nice to find her daughter-in-law in tears, the house filthy and no meal cooked, but once more the seeds of pleasurable resentment began germinating. She had looked forward to this weekend with a deep contentment, certain it would go wrong. Nothing would suit her better than that it should begin to go wrong by their arriving late through no fault of hers, and that their lateness should result in a quarrel between Robert and Angela. But all this smouldered silent and unanalysed under her immediate awareness that Robert was making a mess of things again.

Nevertheless, the caught the train. It was crowded and they both had to stand. Mrs Hathall never complained. She would have fainted before citing her age and her varicose veins as reasons why this or that man should give up his seat to her. Stoicism governed her. Instead, she planted her thick body which, buttoned up in a stiff fawn coat, had the appearance of a wardrobe, in such a way as to prevent the passenger in the window seat from moving his legs or reading his newspaper. She had only one thing to say to Robert and that could keep till there were fewer listeners, and she found it hard to suppose he could have anything to say to her. Hadn’t they, after all, spent every weekday evening together for the past two months? But people, she had noticed with some puzzlement, were prone to chatter when they had nothing to say. Even her own son was guilty of this. She listened grimly while he went on about the beautiful scenery through which they would soon pass, the amenities of Bury Cottage, and how much Angela was looking forward to seeing her. Mrs Hathall permitted herself to a kind of snort at this last, a two-syllabled grunt made somewhere in her glottis that could be roughly interpreted as a laugh. Her lips didn’t move. She was reflecting on the one and only time she had met her daughter-in-law, in that room in Earls Court, when Angela had committed the outrage of referring to Eileen as a greedy bitch. Much would have to be done, many amends would have to be made, before that indiscretion could be forgotten. Mrs Hathall remembered how she had marched straight out of that room and down the stairs, resolving never – never under any circumstances – to see Angela again. It only proved how forbearing she was that she was going to Kingsmarkham now.

Customer Reviews

Here I am again, reviewing another book by Ruth Rendell...
Shake Hands For Ever - a novel which takes its title from a work by Michael Drayton - is very much a Wexford novel. There's not a lot of Burden here at all, instead Rendell turns her full attention to the character of Wexford, and his frustration when he comes upon a case which he feels he knows the answer to, but cannot prove. Until, one year after it occurs, new information starts turning up...

Robert Hathall is bringing his overbearing, overcritical mother home to meet his second wife Angela, a woman whom Mrs Hathall clearly detests (mainly for the fact that she thinks she split up her son's first marriage). Angela was supposed to meet her husband and mother-in-law at the train station, but didn't turn up. Eventually, the two make their way home, and discover her dead body, strangled on the bed. Having cleaned the house immaculately for the impending visit, there is almost nothing to go on.

This is not really a whodunnit, as pretty early on Wexford decides he knows who did it. All he has to do is prove it, and the why, and the how. But it proves an impossible task, and when he is warned off the case by his superior, for "harassing" his chief suspect, Wexford undertakes some private investigations of his own...

Although I don't think Shake Hands for Ever is quite the one of the best Wexford novels - it is beautifully focused, yes, but as this is mainly a "Wexford must prove his theory" novel, there aren't a great range of characters, although those that are are as well-drawn and fascinating as ever - it is still very fine indeed. It boasts, of the Wexford books anyway, possibly Rendell's finest last-chapter shock of her career. It's an excellent crime/mystery novel, which even though we think we know what is going on, is far from predictable, and the story goes deeper than we at first think. The prose is sharp, and socially aware as ever. Ominous and dark, too, brilliantly balanced by some moments great humour. Rendell's almost vicious wit is often glossed over, not even noticed, by most reviewers, but it is another of those things which make her so special. Her latest book, The Rottweiler, was full of it, and it was marvellous!

Before I conclude, let me mention something: of Rendell's 40+ titles from this publisher, would you like to guess how many are now freely available, abundant in the bookshops, readily in print? The answer is 12, of which Shake Hands For Ever is one. 12 books from 40 (they're reprinting 6 (none of which are Wexford, by the way!) in July, to bring the total to 18). I think that is absolutely appalling. A travesty. It actually upsets me somewhat! I must now offer my obligatory plea: to rectify this, please send an email to her publisher random house! I know I mention this all the time, and must sound obsessive about it, but 12 out of 40 is quite frankly unacceptable. Consider all those readers who will never enjoy the full Rendell experience...

To sum up, Shake Hands For Ever is, though not the very very best, a great Wexford novel from Ruth Rendell - one who all fans of hers must read.

I can't get enough of Ruth Rendell
This story begins with a murder, as do most of Rendell's books featuring super sleuth Chief Inspector Wexford. Wexford is puzzled by the seemingly motiveless slaying of a young homemaker. The woman and her husband are new to the area, none of the neighbours have had anything to do with the victim. Their relationship must be new too, as the victim is unknown to her mother-in-law who discovers the body. We are drawn, as usual, into Wexford's investigation. He still has the doleful Mike Burden as his loyal assistant. This story, like others featuring these two detectives, brings us up to date on their private lives. Rendell brings her characters to life and their families are crucial to the background of the series.

Sharp, focused mystery
Shake Hands For Ever - a novel which takes its title from a work by Michael Drayton - is very much a Wexford novel. There's not a lot of Burden here at all, instead Rendell turns her full attention to the cahracter of Wexford, and his frustration when he comes upon a case which he feels he knows the answer to, but cannot prove. Until, one year after it occurs, new information starts turning up...

Robert Hathall is bringing his overbearing, overcritical mother home to meet his second wife Angela, a woman whom Mrs Hathall clearly detests (mainly for the fact that she thinks she split up her son's first marriage). Angela was supposed to meet her husband and mother-in-law at the train station, but didn't turn up. Eventually, the two make their way home, and discover her dead body, strangled on the bed. Having cleaned the house immaculately for the impending visit, there is almost nothing to go on.

This is not really a whodunnit, as pretty early on Wexford decides he knows who did it. All he has to do is prove it, and the why, and the how. But it proves an impossible task, and when he is warned off the case by his superior, for "harassing" his chief suspect, Wexford undertakes some private investigations of hiw own...

Although I don't think Shake Hands for Ever is quite the one of the best Wexford novels - it is beautifully focused, yes, but as this is mainly a "Wexford must prove his theory" novel, there aren't a great range of characters, although those that are are as well-drawn and fascianting as ever - it is still very fine indeed. It boasts, of the Wexford books anyway, possibly Rendell's finest last-chapter shock of her career. It's an excellent crime/mystery novel, which even though we think we know what is going on, is far from predictable, and the story goes deeper than we at first think. The prose is sharp, and socially aware as ever. Ominious and dark, too, brilliantly balanced by some moments great humour. Rendell's almost vicious wit is often glossed over, not even noticed, by most reviewers, but it is another of those things which make her so special. Her latest book, The Rottweiler, was full of it, and it was marvellous!

Before I conclude, let me mention something: of Rendell's 40+ from this publishers, would you like to guess how many are now freely available, abundant in the bookshops, readily in print? The answer is 12. 12 books from 40 (they're reprinting 6 (none of which are Wexford, by the way!) in July, to bring the total to 18). I think that is absolutely apalling. A travesty. It actually upsets me somewhat! I must now offer my obligatory plea: to rectify this, please send an email to her publisher randomhouse! I know I mention this all the time, and must sound obsessive about it, but 12 out of 40 is quite frankly unacceptable. Consider all those readers who will never enjoy the full Rendell experience...

To sum up, Shake Hands For Ever is, though not the very very best, a great Wexford novel from Ruth Rendell - one who all fans of hers must read.