December 24th 2007 11:41 am

Irish Lace

Irish LaceDidn’t the clever little priest bring back all kinds of memories with this book of his? First, he mentioned a little Hungarian restaurant across the street for St. Benedict’s church. Now, I’ve never been to any such Hungarian restaurant, but St. Ben’s was my mother’s and my grandmother’s parish… and didn’t my mother get married there? Didn’t my father propose to her during Mass on the Feast of the Assumption right there? And didn’t my grandmother suffer through the guitar masses with me there because she loved me so?

And didn’t his man Billy Hernon live on Hollywood Avenue right around the corner from my apartment on Ridge Avenue? Though, there the clever little priest got it wrong, because that neighborhood has never been park of Lakeview. I was never clear if I was living in Uptown or Rogers Park… but never was it Lakeview.

Ah, and didn’t the fine officers of the CPD take our man Dermot to St. Joseph’s Hospital where I worked in the laboratory for a couple of years on the night shift? And didn’t I just love working there?

All and all, a fine and clever mystery staring the fey Nuala Anne. Maybe Greeley will stop writing out the words to the lovely tear-jerking song, Molly Malone, for haven’t we seen it now at least two or three times in each of the Nuala Anne novels?

If you’re a fan of mysteries… if you’re Irish… if you’re Catholic… if you’re from Chicago… and especially if you’re an Irish Catholic fan of mysteries from Chicago, you’ll want to read this one.

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Irish Lace

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