Heart of Lies: A Novel

By M.L. Malcolm

Leo Hoffman was born with a gift for languages. When his dreams for the future are destroyed by World War I, the dashing young Hungarian attempts to use his rare talent to rebuild his life, only to find himself inadvertently embroiled in an international counterfeiting scheme. Suddenly Leo is wanted across the European continent for a host of crimes, including murder. Left with no options, he must escape to Shanghai with his lover, carrying with him a stolen treasure that could be his salvation . . . or his death warrant. But the gangsters who control the decadent Asian city have no intention of letting him outrun his past. And when the Japanese invade, one wrong move could cost Leo Hoffman everything he holds dear.

An epic tale of intrigue, passion, and adventure, Heart of Lies heralds the arrival of a remarkable writer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: May 21, 2010
• ISBN: 9780061998010

M.L. Malcolm

M. L. Malcolm has won several awards for short fiction, including recognition in the Lorian Hemingway International Short Story Competition, and a silver medal from ForeWord magazine for Historical Fiction Book of the Year. Malcolm has lived in Florida, Boston, Washington, D.C., France, New York, and Atlanta, and currently resides in Los Angeles.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

BUDAPEST, 1919

He had not spoken to Julia since the day he ended their affair. Now he watched as her dark eyes scanned the hotel lobby, and he had the odd feeling that she was looking for him. Why would she want to see him, now, after nearly three years?

The war had been kinder to her than to most; she was smartly dressed, wrapped in sable, and didn’t have the gaunt look of someone who’d been waiting in line for food. That didn’t surprise him. Countess Julia Katiana Podmaniczky was the type of woman who got what she wanted: one of her many desires had been the surrender of his virginity when he was barely sixteen. Of course the Countess would find a way to thrive during the war.

She caught his eye and approached his desk. He stood and came around it to greet her. Only then did he notice the lines around her eyes and the shadows under her neck, all conspiring to betray her loveliness.

Good evening, Leo, she said, with that familiar, mocking smile.

Are you surprised to see me?

He took her hand and bowed over it, pressing his lips to her slim fingers. No, Countess, not surprised. Enchanted.

Her smile was replaced by one of genuine pleasure, and then, just as swiftly, by a look of apprehension. Leo, we must find a place to talk. Immediately.

Certainly. He could not be rude. She and his foster mother, Erzsebet, were close friends, although he was sure that his endearingly naïve guardian was unaware of Julia’s penchant for illicit sexual adventure. He could not explain to Erzsebet that he did not find it necessary to be polite to his seductress. Escorting the Countess by the arm, Leo led her across the lobby to an office he knew would be vacant at this time of the evening.

Julia waited until they were both seated before she spoke again, and Leo could tell by the look on her face that something truly horrendous was behind her unexpected visit.

Leo, you must not go back to the villa tonight. Something terrible has happened, and it’s too late to do anything except save yourself.

What are you talking about?

Erzsebet and József have been shot.

What? He was standing now, towering over her, his blazing blue eyes demanding a retraction.

Leo, I wish I could say that it were not true— Julia’s voice rose in astonishment as he lifted her by her shoulders, out of the chair and off the ground.

When? Are they alive?

Put me down, Julia demanded, keeping her voice low. If someone heard them and came in, if he created a scene, they could both be lost.

He looked at her as if he did not realize that he held her dangling in the air. Then he lowered her back down and took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure.

Are they alive? he repeated, his voice a toneless staccato.

Julia shook her head.

Who did it?

Counterrevolutionary forces, Julia spat out, her voice drenched in sarcasm. Our ‘secret’ police. The men who are allegedly protecting us from the Rumanians. Then her tone softened.

Leo, I’m sorry. I came as soon as I found out. My husband has connections. Sometimes we find out about these things more quickly than others would. I had to be the one to tell you because… She faltered, and reached up to touch his tormented face. I want to protect you, if I can, from the same fate.

He shoved her hand away. "Protect me? Why didn’t you protect Erzsebet? If you have these connections, why didn’t you use them to protect your friend?"

Because I couldn’t. Your brilliant József was a communist. Erzsebet was a collaborator, whether she realized it or not. She was too delighted playing hostess to members of parliament to care about what politics it involved. She didn’t know that her dinner parties were her death warrant. I tried to warn her. I’m sure you did, too. But Erzsebet was always too willing to believe what she wanted to believe. And she believed in József.

Leo looked away. Julia was right. Hungary had been mired in political and economic mayhem since the Emperor abdicated his throne at the end of the war. Erzsebet Derkovits and her brother, József, had used their influence and what was left of their family fortune to help form a communist government out of the chaos, but Leo did not get involved; in fact, he’d deliberately absented himself from the house whenever meetings took place there. He was not a political person, he said; he felt lucky to have survived two years on the Italian front, and to have found a job as a concierge in a posh hotel when most of the population was starving.

He and Erzsebet should have fled months ago, when the Rumanians invaded and the communist government collapsed. He should have made her leave.

But József would not hear of it. Only cowards flee, he’d said. So they stayed, and now József and Erzsebet had paid the price.

Leo pictured Erzsebet as she had looked this morning, sitting happily at her desk as she made her list of errands for the day. His rage ebbed away. She’d loved him the way his own mother never had. His heart felt like an anvil in his chest.

Julia sensed that his anger was dissipating. Leo, the villa is being watched. In a few days it will be confiscated as government property, the forfeited property of traitors. If you go back you’ll be implicated. There’s nothing you can do now. Nothing except save yourself.

He looked at her dully, not wanting to think about self-preservation, not wanting to accept his loss. She went on.

If you need money—

No, thank you. I’m entitled to rooms at the hotel. Where are…what have they done with the bodies?

I don’t know, Julia lied coolly. She would not let him risk his life for the sake of visiting a corpse. There was one more thing she had to say.

Leo, does anyone here at the hotel know that you’re Jewish? Hoffman is not necessarily a Jewish name.

He seemed surprised by the question. Jewish? I don’t really know. I don’t suppose so. I’ve never had any reason to mention it. Why? What does that matter now?

I hope you’ll understand why I’m telling you this. You must not, under any circumstances, tell anyone that you’re Jewish.

The anger returned to his eyes. Why? What are you saying?

You don’t understand the extent to which these men are motivated by jealousy, by bigotry, by hatred. József and Erzsebet were not killed just because they were communists. They were killed because they were Jews. In all this madness, there’s a chance no one important will make a connection between you and the Derkovits family.

So I’m to hide my heritage to stay alive, is that it?

Is it so wrong to try and stay alive when you’re being persecuted without a reason?

What about honor?

Honor? Honor won’t warm your gravestone, Leo. I know how much Erzsebet loved you, how much you’ve meant to her ever since the day that József brought you home from that pit of a village where you were born. You owe it to her to stay alive.

I owed it to her to keep her from dying.

There was nothing more that Julia could say. He would heed her advice, or not. After a silent moment she made a move to leave, pausing only to murmur, Leo, darling, if you need anything, please—

She watched as a range of emotions flickered across his handsome face: grief, outrage, and, perhaps, a touch of gratitude. Then he was once again all business, holding his hand out to her as if she were a departing hotel guest. Thank you for having the courage to tell me this. Thank you for the warning.

Ignoring his proffered handshake, Julia moved a step closer and closed her hand around his wrist. You won’t go back to the villa?

He shook his head. She breathed a sigh of relief and let go of him. That, at least, was something. Pulling her wrap tightly around her shoulders, she left the office without another word.

Weeks later Leo walked by the magnificent villa on Andrassy Avenue that had been his home for seven years. A brass plate on the door declared it the future offices of the Ministry of the Treasury. So this was another joke that life had played on him; he’d escaped the dismal world of his childhood, only to have a life full of promise depleted of every source of hope. He’d survived the war, only to lose the two people who meant the most to him. He was not yet twenty years old.

ONE

BUDAPEST, 1925

It was said that in Vienna one could spend hours in a coffee house and no one would notice, but that in Budapest, you could live there, and no one would notice. By the time he was twenty-five, Leo Hoffman’s regular table at his favorite coffee house was the closest thing he had to a home.

He first came to the New York Café with Erzsebet, when he was twelve years old and still new to the city: awed by electricity, terrified of riding the subway, and overwhelmed by the ornate majesty of the many magnificent buildings constantly under construction as the newly minted, wealthy Hungarian bourgeoisie worked to turn Budapest into an architectural marvel that would rival the other capitals of Europe. But none of these modern wonders had impressed Leo more than the gilded columns, crystal chandeliers, flashing mirrors, and flawlessly poised waiters of the New York.

Erzsebet had adored the New York, and Leo was delighted whenever she invited him to accompany her there, mostly because the café was such a wonderful place to watch, and to listen. It was the perfect place for conversation, inspiration, and infatuation. Old lovers went there for the express purpose of publically ignoring each other, while at any given moment a dozen new love affairs began to bloom. Arguments in innumerable accents would roll through the expansive room, thicker than the heavy cigarette smoke, as art, politics, and popular fashion were all rigorously critiqued. Discussions begun before lunch merged and mutated throughout the early evening, until the affluent exited and those for whom the coffee house was the night’s entertainment reclaimed their usual tables; then everyone who could afford it returned for a late night supper and a hearty serving of gossip. It was true that there were many, many coffee houses in Budapest (Erzsebet frequently and needlessly explained) but there was only one New York.

When Leo finally returned, a year after Erzsebet’s death, the Grande Dame of Budapest had become an aged, impoverished widow. The linens were worn, the china chipped, the floor in need of repairs. Gone was the vivacity that once filled the air with a charismatic sense of hope; the city’s optimism lay buried in the trenches with the bones of a million men.

He’d been surprised that the head waiter showed him to one of the best tables, close to the front windows with a full view of the formerly elegant room. Perhaps he remembered Leo from the days when he’d show up with Erzsebet for a pre-theater dinner, or perhaps the old man was just pleased to have someone reasonably well-dressed and youthful to show off to anyone passing by, hoping that the sight would remind potential customers of what the New York had once been and entice them to come in, if for no other reason than to share a drink and a memory.

Since then Leo found time to stop by almost every evening. On this night, as he walked in, a familiar figure waved him over.

Leo, wonderful to see you again. Please join me, said Janos Bacso, president of the Magyar Commercial Bank. Leo had met Bacso while courting the man’s daughter two years earlier. He’d expected Maya’s father to object, given that the wealthy banker knew nothing about Leo’s background, about which Leo shared only vague details, not all of them accurate. But the war had changed everything, so much so that a self-made man like Bacso now put more stock in potential than in pedigree when evaluating a prospective son-in-law. He’d seemed comfortable with the match.

But Leo ultimately stopped short of proposing, even though it would have meant a change of career from hotel concierge to bank officer. A door had closed inside him that Maya could not open. Although he was tempted, he vowed that he would not dishonor her by entering into a marriage based primarily on ambition.

When he heard that Maya was engaged to a young bank officer, Leo reintroduced himself to her father at a regular, late-night card game at the New York. Aloof at first, Bacso’s affability returned after Leo discreetly let him win a significant amount of money. Leo considered it a good investment.

I don’t usually see you here this early, he said as he took the chair Bacso offered him. Are you meeting someone?

After a while. Back at my house.

Leo had to smile; for Bacso to describe his home as a house was quite an understatement. The man had purchased the city home of an aristocrat bankrupted by the war, for a fraction of what it was worth. Leo wondered how Bacso had managed to hang on to his money. Probably diverted it overseas before the real fighting started.

Well I’m lucky to have caught you, then, Leo commented as he signaled for the waiter.

Actually, this might be a lucky break for me, running into you like this. Our fourth cancelled.

Oh?

I’m going to be playing bridge with a couple of visitors this evening. Any chance you could join us? Nothing formal. We’ll be wagering, but the stakes won’t be higher than our usual game. Do you think you could get free?

Are you sure you want to inflict me on people who actually know how to play?

No false modesty, Leo. You’ll hold your own quite well.

I’m flattered you think so. What time should I be there?

Around ten.

I suppose that’s possible.

Excellent. You remember the address?

Of course.

Bacso reached for his wallet, but Leo motioned for him to stop.

Allow me, he said. After such a generous invitation, the least I can do is treat you to a coffee.

Thank you. Bacso stood up. So, we’ll be expecting you.

Leo arrived at precisely ten o’clock. As the butler showed him into the foyer, he was struck again by how very different Bacso’s mansion was from the flamboyant and colorful Beaux-Arts villas of Andrassy Avenue, where he’d lived with Erzsebet and József. These dark stone walls spoke of wealth: old, immense wealth, wealth far removed from its origin and the merit of its masters. The place was luxurious but mirthless. Even the paintings in the entry hall were somber; Leo faced a grave Madonna and child, a gloomy Dutch landscape, and a bloody battle scene featuring the heroic St. Stephen, founder of the kingdom of Hungary, ruthlessly beating back some invading horde nine hundred years ago.

The butler returned to show him into the library. Bacso and two other men whom Leo did not recognize all stood as he entered the room.

So glad you could make it, Leo. Please come in and meet my other guests. James Mitchell, Leo Hoffman.

Bacso was speaking English; Leo assumed that Mitchell was British. When Leo first started at the Hotel Bristol, English had not been his best language. Now he was head concierge, and five years of contact with a constant influx of well-to-do British visitors, none of whom seemed willing to venture out of their native tongue, had greatly improved his fluency.

The pleasure is mine, I assure you, he said as he shook hands with the white-haired gentleman. The man laughed, not a pleasant sound.

If your card game is as good as your English, the pleasure will be mine. You sound exactly like a Brit.

Leo realized at once that Mitchell was an American. The other man, whom Bacso introduced as Lajos Graetz, was clearly not. Leo was struck by the firmness of his grip, and his crisp, military bearing. His hair was the only part of him that seemed to be wearing out as he aged. A soldier, no doubt: most likely a former officer in the Emperor’s army.

Mitchell and Graetz could not have been more different, thought Leo. The former was overfed and a bit coarse, the latter a study in the manners of a bygone era. A very odd pairing.

Neither Graetz nor Bacso spoke English well, but it seemed that they all spoke passable German, so they settled on that as the language of the evening. As Mitchell had implied, Leo was to be the American’s partner, to help smooth over any translation problems. So that explains the sudden invitation. Few people in Budapest spoke passable English.

So, Mr. Mitchell, where are you from? asked Leo as they took their seats at the card table.

Shanghai.

I beg your pardon. Shanghai is in China, is it not? Your accent sounds very American for someone born in China.

I wasn’t born there. I’m most recently from there. From the American Concession, now known as part of the International Settlement.

And what brought you there?

Mitchell sat back in his chair, obviously embarking on a favorite topic of conversation. If you knew anything about Shanghai, you wouldn’t have asked that question. No one goes to Shanghai if he has anywhere else to go. You’d ask, instead, how I managed to leave.

Would you care to explain? Leo inquired, as Bacso began to deal the cards.

Shanghai is a great port city. It’s also the only place in the world one can enter without a passport or a visa, no questions asked, and set up shop, whether you’re a con artist, gun runner, opium dealer, or disgraced industrialist.

Surely there are some legitimate business enterprises?

Well, yes. A lot of factories. Buckets of money to be made in the China trade. Entrepreneurs import goods to the teeming yellow millions and export Chinese goods to the rest of the world. But the law-abiding types have lost out on the most lucrative import, that being the opium that comes from India. It’s been declared illegal to bring it into China. Which makes it all the more profitable, of course.

I see. And in which category do you place yourself? Robber baron? Opium dealer? Entrepreneur?

Mitchell tilted his head back and poured a glass of champagne down his throat. Capitalist, Mr. Hoffman, venture capitalist. I venture where there is money to be made. I made plenty in Shanghai. I hope to have a few years left to make a little more in Hungary.

And I hope to help you make a little for us tonight, Leo remarked, raising his glass to his partner. The cold December wind howled against the windows. The play began.

They were at least an hour into the game, with Leo and Mitchell well ahead, when Graetz commented, So, Mr. Hoffman, Janos tells me that you have a gift for languages.

He’s too kind.

There’s no need for humility. Five languages fluently, is that correct?

At the moment, yes.

At the moment, you say. How long does it take you to learn a new language?

Not long.

Extraordinary. And do you translate?

Do you mean written, or simultaneous verbal translation?

Either.

I’m afraid my verbal skills exceed my ability to reproduce languages on paper.

Meaning?

I’m proficient at verbal translation, much slower at written transcription.

So it’s the ear you were born with.

Yes, as you put it, ’the ear’ is what I was born with. Leo had the awkward sensation that he was being put through his paces. He looked at Bacso, whose face revealed nothing. He was concentrating on his cards.

Graetz did not stop. To be able to learn a new language so quickly, now that is a valuable talent. There are many opportunities for a man of your ability.

There weren’t after the war.

But it’s been five years. Things are improving. We’re back in the League of Nations. The currency has stabilized. You’re wasting your time working in a hotel.

I have no complaints. It’s a good enough job, and I’ll have the opportunity to move into upper-level management eventually.

Come come, Mr. Hoffman. Is that all the ambition you have? To be the manager of a hotel?

No one had played a card in several minutes. Leo was beginning to feel like a mouse caught in a trap when Bacso finally joined the conversation.

Leo, you’re here on my recommendation. I know you to be an intelligent young man and a loyal Hungarian, who served our country honorably in the Great War.

Honorably maybe, but not voluntarily.

Bacso made a dismissive gesture. No Hungarian fought voluntarily. But the Hapsburgs have drawn us into war for the last time. The last conflict finally freed us from our Austrian yoke, and it’s time for us to take advantage of our freedom. At the moment our country is weak, but we can make it strong again. We’d like to offer you an opportunity, a business opportunity, to help us do so.

Are we discussing patriotism or capitalism?

Both, said Mitchell, chortling. Bacso shot him a curt look before continuing.

You are familiar, I’m sure, with the terms of the Treaty of Trianon?

No more so than the average person.

You must know the cursed pact cost Hungary seventy percent of her territory, and limited our country’s armed forces to thirty-five thousand men, Graetz interjected, his thin face quivering with agitation.

That much I did know.

Which leaves us unable to defend ourselves in the event we face another threat from Rumania or Yugoslavia, Bacso explained.

But do we face such a threat? Leo’s question, innocently posed, set off a chain reaction around the table.

Always.

The French will not rest until they see us under Serbian rule.

The Rumanians are salivating over the agricultural capacity of our heartland.

Do you really think you can rely on that asinine League of Nations to protect you?

The point is this, Bacso said at last, readiness is the best deterrent. The resources we need are the new, automatic weapons being developed in the United States and Soviet Russia. There are, of course, strict controls on the shipments of such armaments. But there is the possibility—I can tell you no more—the possibility that our soldiers could obtain a supply of these advanced weapons through, shall we say, unofficial channels.

Leo looked back at him, puzzled. What does this have to do with me? Shouldn’t this be done through the government?

Graetz leapt in again. That’s just the problem. The government is powerless to act. We must rely on private individuals to accomplish what our hamstrung politicians cannot.

I have no interest in becoming an arms dealer. Leo rose from the table. Bacso reached out and grasped his arm.

What have you done lately of which you’ve been proud, Leo? the older man asked. Arranged a picnic? Hired a driver? Do you not think that the gift God gave you should be used for a nobler purpose? Does the future of your country mean nothing to you?

The words stung. Leo sat back down. What would you expect me to do?

The other men exchanged glances. Graetz answered. Simply this. We will have a meeting, very soon, of the people who could, in theory, supply the weapons, those who could, conceivably, transport them, and the men who are willing to pay for them. They come from different countries, including Switzerland, Soviet Russia, Germany, and America. Having you at that meeting will enable us to communicate effectively. Of course, you’ll be sworn to secrecy.

So you need me to translate? That’s all? Surely there’s someone else who can do this.

No one with your proficiency. Without you we would have to have several interpreters present. The more people who know about this, the more dangerous it becomes for all of us.

But couldn’t you merely agree to speak the same language, as we’ve been doing all evening?

Again, the men exchanged glances. This time it was Bacso who spoke.

You see, Leo, we need you to do more than just be at the meeting. We need for you to eavesdrop, telephonically, on the other participants, after the actual meeting, to make sure that we aren’t being betrayed.

Telephonically? Is that really possible?

Graetz nodded. The technology exists.

And, Mitchell added, You’ll be very, very well compensated for your services. In fact, if you perform well in this capacity, it could lead to great things for you. Yes indeed, great things.

Leo thought for a moment. Was it such a terrible crime to disobey unjust laws that had been forced down Hungarian throats? If they were caught, they’d go to jail. But wasn’t his current life a prison of sorts, anyway? Five years ago he’d abandoned the idea that he could use his talents to create a dazzling life, and settled instead for the limited satisfaction he could achieve by mastering the details of an unimportant one. He spent his days fulfilling the shallow whims of the wealthy. Maybe it was time to take a chance on something. He felt a flash of excitement, a feeling he’d not had in a long time. It felt good.

And Bacso’s words had touched his pride. He’d told these men the truth; he picked up new languages very quickly. But in fact his ability to make sense of new sounds and turn them into words was just one aspect of his talent. Leo paid attention not only to the words a man used, but also to the motion of his hands, the posture of his body, and the way he held

Reviews for Heart of Lies

[datrappert · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

After receiving this book as an early reviewer, it took me a long time to get around to reading and reviewing it, but I'm glad I did. The fact is, I have so many books double-stacked on my shelves, that I just lost it for a while!This is a fascinating story of an enigmatic Hungarian, Leo Hoffman, a wizard at learning languages, who becomes naively involved with revolutionaries in Hungary and ends up fleeing to Shanghai in the 1920s--the only place in the world someone like him could go without a Visa.I will avoid plot spoilers, but before fleeing from Paris, where the revolutionaries had taken him to act as a translator, he falls madly in love with a German girl. Communication is no problem, since Leo speaks German and French, which she also speaks, as well as Russian, English, and Hungarian. In any case, the rest of the book concerns the trials and tribulations of Leo, the girl, and their daughter in Shanghai and beyond up until the eve of America's entry into World War II. Of course, the war had affected Shanghai long before that, turning it from the paradise of adventurers into a dangerous place where the large international community found itself caught in the growing war between China and Japan, not to mention the conflict between the Chinese Nationalists and Communists. Those who could get out did, but others, like Leo and Shanghai's growing Jewish community, were stuck.Ms. Malcolm has thoroughly researched her history, and the story is woven around a series of true events starting in Hungary and extending into China. Having been privileged to live in Shanghai for a couple of years and having studied its history, this was a big attraction of the book. However, it was also an annoyance, since my foreknowledge left me waiting (literally) for the next bomb to drop. However, for someone not so familiar with the history of Shanghai, that shouldn't be a problem and the book will even be educational.The other main problem I had with the book was that its last third was greatly accelerated as if the author had a limited number of pages allotted or was in a hurry to get finished. As the focus of the book shifts from Leo to his wife to his daughter, some of the strength of the story is lost, although the power of the events depicted is still captivating. I will also admit to falling spell to the books more sentimental aspects and being moved (though not quite to tears) on a couple of occasions. There is a lot of great stuff here and Ms. Malcolm is an excellent storyteller.As the book speeds to its conclusion, it becomes evident that a sequel is needed, and the author confirms this in the interesting interview at the end of the volume.

[iubookgirl · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Though the decisions made in Heart of Lies have far greater consequences, I found some similarity between it and the last book I reviewed, The Privileges. Both are the story of a man doing what he thinks he must in order to protect the people he loves. In Heart of Lies, we follow Leo Hoffman from 1919 shortly after the close of World War I to 1939 and the dawn of World War II. The future Leo expected for himself vanishes following World War I. When an opportunity for advancement comes his way, he takes the chance. Unfortunately for Leo, things do not work out the way he planned. Instead, he must flee to Shanghai and find a way to rebuild his life with the woman he loves.Malcolm did a great deal of research to ensure the historical accuracy of the novel and it shows. The horrible events of the era are faithfully depicted and make the extremely difficult decisions Leo must make easier to accept. There were moments when I was on edge waiting to see if Leo could survive the setback currently facing him. The final pages had me sobbing. Despite Leo's flawed character, I found myself rooting for him every step of the way.I didn't realize until the end that Malcolm was setting up a series of books. The next is called Heart of Deception and comes out in April 2011. I look forward to following the saga of Leo's life and hope you will join me on his journey.

[yourotherleft_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Leo Hoffman has a gift for languages, and that's where his problems begin. As Heart of Lies begins, Leo has contented himself with using his talent to coddle the rich guests of the Budapest hotel where he works as a concierge, pleased to have a steady job in the wake of World War I. Little does Leo know, when the father of an old flame approaches him about a meeting with a group of powerful men, that his life is about to be turned totally upside down. Within a few days, Leo has met (at first sight) his one true love, been unintentionally involved in a major crime, and comitted a major crime of his own. With his life and his new love in jeopardy Leo flees to the one place he knows where no one will ask questions about his past, Shanghai. Leo will do anything to make the happily ever after he promised Martha, his young German lover, but when the Chinese civil war rocks the international settlements of Shanghai, Leo's carefully constructed life begins to crumble.There are two halves to the whole of Heart of Lies, the love story half and the international intrigue half, and one is vastly more compelling than the other. Leo getting caught in the treacherous web of Hungarian fascists, making his way to Shanghai and building his fortune through precarious business dealings with the most dangerous of men, and his ascent to social prominence among the elite of Shanghai are the stuff of great storytelling. The characters Leo is up against are deliciously evil, and Leo is a sympathetic, if conflicted and not altogether righteous, hero as he navigates a new world that never seems quite far enough from his former one. Malcolm brings many locales to glittering life from Paris at Christmas to the wild contradictions that made up early 20th century Shanghai.He took Martha's hand in his and led her back to the all but empty dance floor. They paused for an instant to catch the rhythm of the music. Then with one quick step backward, Leo and Martha floated into the dance. They moved in effortless unison, gliding in swift circles around the room, stepping and turning as though the music emanated from them, as if their dance granted the spectators permisson to share, for a moment, the magic of their special union.Unfortunately, the love story didn't live up to the standard set by the rest of the book. Leo spends only a day or two with Martha, but it only takes hours for him to decide that she is the only one for him. While the idea of a love at first sight tale beginning in Paris at Christmastime is terribly romantic, Leo and Martha's love story comes off as shallow at times and as overdramatically unrealistic at others. It is not until the two reunite in Shanghai and the occasional reality begins to set in amid their wedded bliss that the couple begins to seem genuine. For the first portion of the book, the two main characters are much more compelling and realistic apart than they are together. When they come together, all rationality falls away and the loving platitudes and sweet nothings they level at each other border on the cringeworthy. Fortunately, however, the history and the intrigue come out on top and render Heart of Lies an overall good read that I found difficult to put down until I'd turned the last page.

[zibilee_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

After a secret assignation gone wrong, Leo Hoffman is headed to Shanghai to begin life anew. But just before leaving Europe, Leo meets the alluring and irresistible Martha, who he has to leave behind in his haste to escape. After settling in Shanghai, Leo sends for Martha, who makes the difficult passage by herself to share her lover's new fortune. Soon Leo and Martha are living in delicious style in 1920's Shanghai, sharing the best of what life has to offer them. But Leo is not being completely truthful with Martha and has to keep the real reason for his fortune a secret from her. When Martha gives birth to a daughter, the little family seems to be on the path to true happiness. Then one day, a horrible accident wipes away all of their shared happiness and the couple's young daughter, Maddy, is shuttled off to America with Leo's promise that he will soon join her. But things in Leo's past hold him back and he is not able to leave Shanghai as planned. This forces Maddy into the clutches of a selfish and scheming woman who desires Leo above all else. When the events of Leo's life finally leave him free to make the journey to America, he finds that Maddy has grown beyond her love for him and he must make a painful decision that will have repercussions for father and daughter alike. In this historical tale of intrigue, one man must make very difficult decisions regarding the life he longs to leave behind and the daughter who lives only for his love.I don't know what it was about this book. Usually, I love historical dramas that showcase places and times with which I am less familiar, but in the case of this book I think there was some kind of disconnect. While I found the story interesting enough and the characters were agreeable and intriguing, I felt that somehow this book missed its mark with me.One of the problems I had with this book was the fact that I couldn't really get invested in the characters' plights. They all seemed very one-dimensional and their emotions just didn't resonate off the page. There were times I found it hard to empathize with the characters because they didn't seem to reflect any deep feelings at all and they never seemed to reflect upon their emotions. I think the problem was that they never had any meaningful perceptions and revelations about their emotional situations. They never grew as a result of their experiences and instead remained static and unmovable. As as reader, I was told that Leo felt sad dejected, and hurt, but I never really bought it because he just seemed so disaffected all the time. It was definitely a case of telling instead of showing and because of this most of the characters seemed less than sincere.I really liked the plot of the book for the first two-thirds, but when the accident happened and the book focused more on Maddy and her plight in America, I began to lose interest. I felt that the story had taken a turn and the characters I had grown to like were being replaced by the sad plight of a child. This was not bad per se, its just not what I had been expecting and I found myself wanting to skim these sections, although I did not. One thing that hampered me with Maddy is that I felt she was very spoiled for most of the middle section of the book and she seemed almost precocious at times. When her fortunes turned, I just couldn't scare up a lot of sympathy for her and her plight. I did not get on well with her and the fact that the book focused so much on her during its closing section made me feel a little disgruntled.Although some things didn't work well for me, there were some great aspects that I really enjoyed about the book. First off, I felt that there was a lot of good intrigue sprinkled throughout the plot and things were far from predictable. I liked the way the action that centered around Leo's business dealings was so clearly delineated and full of suspense. I was rooting for his success and disentanglement during these sections and felt that the author did a wonderful job of perking up the plot through the uses of Leo's particular problems and his reactions to them. I also really liked the relationship between Leo and Martha. Leo was incredibly romantic at times, and as a reader, it was nice to see a man who was not too masculine to be tender within the pages. Though he did some things that I was not exactly thrilled with, I found Leo's love for Martha to be one of the brighter spots of the book.In writing this review, I realize that the main reason for my disconnect with the book is probably because the story tried to straddle too many genres. At first, it seemed like a historical mystery and suspense story but then it quickly morphed into a tale of domestic intrigue. Towards the end, the tale moved more into the realm of melodrama. I think any one of these would have been fine had the author stuck to it, but the effect of placing them all into one story made the book feel disorganized and overcrowded. I think the rapid shifts of perspective and storyline were a bit confusing to me and it was hard to feel connected to any of the stories because of it. While I did like the book, I was not wowed by it and would probably not continue on and read the sequel.Though this book didn't really work for me, I do believe that it might work for other readers out there. If you are fond of stories that feel very fluid and that will keep you guessing, then this is the book for you. I also think those who love a good love story might like this book. While I found the story to be a little less interesting to me, I do feel that there are some things that the author really excelled at in the book and because of that, I am glad to have read this novel.

[vivalaerin · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I wasn't quite sure what to expect when I started this novel. It was good; I really enjoyed Malcolm's style of storytelling and it was easy to connect to the characters as people. I think I was expecting more of a spy story, and it kind of morphed into a romance. Which is also not the whole story. Martha and Leo were an incredible couple, but I wanted more intrigue about Leo's work all over. It was interesting to read a story about the daily life of a family between the world wars. It just showed the ways that people can be connected no matter their place in the world. I want to know more about Leo's life as a spy, past and present, as well as how Maddy will grow up. She really is a perfect combination of her parents, and I want a sequel to see how they move on.

[morryb_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

My presupposition in reading this book, was that it was a historical novel along with intrigue, action and adventure. The truth is, it is a romance novel that makes an attempt to have some of these elements. The primary focus was the romance and the relationships, and I found the romance to be sophomoric and lacking any depth. It was a guy sees girl and immediately falls for her and is in love with her. They have a conjugal date which afterwords the woman immediately falls for the man and know he is the only one who can maker her happy. Al. l this and she never tells anyone about him. Not her father, not her sister, and no friends. Leo comes across as unlikable and Martha comes across and dim witted and shallow. It seemed like it could have been a really good story. But the main focus of the romance, which just had no depth to it, dragged the story down.

[jkruger_19 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I got a copy of M.L. Malcolm’s new book, Heart of Lies at BEA. I am a huge fan of historical fiction and this new book has become one of my all time favorites. Malcom has an amazing ability to develop rich interesting characters who you come to care about as if they were real people. Heart of Lies also includes a variety of historical details which brings this interesting period of world history to life. The result is a deeply moving love story filled with adventure and set in a momentous period of history. I learned new things about the exodus of Jewish immigrants from Europe to Shanghai before World War II. My only regret is the book ended too soon with many more stories to tell. I am informed that a sequel is in the works to be published next year and I can’t wait.

[tararay_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Heart of Lies is riveting! I COULD NOT PUT IT DOWN! My usual taste for books is a quick-read murder mystery, and historical fiction makes me yawn, but Heart of Lies drew me in and kept me up late into the night reading. M.L. Malcolm’s writing style is fast-paced and her characters are deep and introspective, (brilliant dialogue) but the story doesn’t linger too long in one place. The action is intense, and the love scenes are very tasteful *blush*. I’m now addicted to Leo’s and Martha’s romance and can’t WAIT until the sequel to the book, but Hollywood will make a movie out of Heart of Lies before the sequel to the book IT’S THAT GOOD. Do yourself a favor and buy this book - find a cozy corner on the couch or a soft spot in the sand under a beach umbrella – and get ready to teleport to WW I and WW II Europe and Asia.

[girlwithafacee · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Heart of Lies is an intriguing story. The author seamlessly switches back and forth between many points of view. The constantly rising and falling action keeps your attention tightly, while the storyline remains believable. A story of love, pain, and war - placed far away from the majority of stories heard written about this era - Heart of Lies is purely unique.

[keristars_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

When I saw this novel listed on ER, I was interested in the promise of an intrigue-type plot, involving some suspense and mystery and lots of historical grounding. What I got was a romance novel with a historical setting and a little bit of a "running from the law" plot for flavor.By not expecting the romance plot, I was pretty much blindsided when it rushed in and displaced everything to do with Hungarian Communists or Leo's linguistic skills or secret smuggling rings. I couldn't understand why it was so important to the story I had thought I was reading, and I kept expecting it to develop into something completely different than it did - at least, until a solid two thirds of the way through the novel, when I finally realized the nature of the book. It took me quite some time to feel comfortable reading this, and not just because I was confused by the book not meeting the expectations I had from the copy on the back cover. For one, a lot of the dialogue and narrative felt awkward, though it didn't seem to be wrong or anything. It just didn't feel like it had a natural cadence - I wasn't sure if it was because of Malcolm's writing style, or if it was a reflection of the way people spoke in the 1920s, or if it was intended to remind the reader that the characters weren't speaking English. The other big reason was that I didn't like any of the characters. I didn't particularly feel interested in learning more about them, and I couldn't sympathise with Leo. Actually, I kind of wanted to smash his face in from the beginning, I disliked him so much. And I was never entirely sure if he was meant to be unlikable, or if there was a disconnect between what Malcolm intended and what I was reading.In the end, I feel that the strongest points of this book are the things based on historical fact, rather than the fictional events and characters. The most compelling parts were of Shanghai in the last third, once General Chiang has been introduced, and the residents begin to be wary of a Chinese civil war - and then, later, once the Japanese begin their attack.

[solestria · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I was excited to read Heart of Lies; it sounded original and interesting, spanning Europe, Shanghai and America prior to World War II. The places and historical background is indeed quite well-researched.However, the plot, characters and writing leave much to be desired. Leo, the main character, is set up when getting involved with unsavory characters, and I could see the set-up coming from the start. The author really lost me when Leo falls in love at first site with Martha in Paris; he sees her outside and is prepared to run after her.The events seem orchestrated by the author, instead of occurring as part of the story; much of it feels like a deus ex machina, where the author intends for X thing to happen, and so arranges for it. The events seem contrived, obvious, and lacking any sense of realism.The same can be said of the characters. They're all given notable characteristics, but not actual personalities. I found it impossible to emotionally connect with any of them or what they were going through.Overall, while not a hard read, this book was a little tedious. The author clearly shows some promise with historical research, but could use a good deal of work with everything else.

[fuzzy_patters · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

The author did a very nice job of researching historical events such as the Hungarian counterfeiting scam of the 1920s and the 1937 bombing of Shanghai. According to the author's interview at the library, she did most of her research in the library using primary sources on microfiche, which I enjoyed as a history major in college. It is refreshing to see someone do their own work rather than relying on internet information that is not always accurate.She uses this historical research to drive a plot in which Leo Hoffman, a Hungarian national who speaks five languages, is used in several nefarious international plots that lead to love, heartbreak, and final redemption. The history serves to make the plot more interesting, which it needs. Malcolm's characters get to be wooden and it is difficult to make a connection with them as a reader. This novel would not stand by itself without the historical research, which was the most interesting part of it.Additionally, the novel seems to be very shallow. Other then a general theme of forgiveness, there is little that a reader can take away from this novel except for escape from real life for a few hours. In this regard, it is not much better than most of the escapist television that is on during prime time television on the major television networks. Malcolm is planning a sequel, but I doubt that I will read it because I was not particularly impressed with Heart of Lies outside of the interesting slice of history.

[rjrutstein · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

This novel has some interesting plot ideas which I found poorly fleshed out, the characters seem thin, and the prose is pedestrian. I cannot recommend this book. This writer has potential,but I do not feel this book was worth publishing. I think a good editor would have had much of this book reworked.

[buchowl · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Enjoyable book.It follows the formula of:Leo is charming, sophisticated and has a gift for learning languages.That's good.No, that's bad. Those qualities cause him unknowingly to become involved with a counterfeiting ring.That's bad.No, that's good. He meets Martha, the love of his life, due to that involvement.That's good.No, that's bad. He is framed for a crime and has to flee Europe leaving Martha behind perhaps never to meet again.That's bad.No, that's good. He manages to escape and is eventually able to reconstruct his life (after a fashion).And so on......Fast paced and beautifully set in pre-World War II Europe and Asia, the love story of Leo and Martha is passionate and heart wrenching. The story epitomizes the saying "Fate makes fools of us all" and shows that morals and principles are often sacrificed on the altar of survival. Leo has to make impossible choices and Martha becomes an unwitting pawn to fate and yet their love manages somehow to survive it all....almost.I very much enjoyed reading this book. M.L.Malcolm writes the characters honestly yet sympathetically and perfectly captures the flavor of the time. I was reminded of stories I heard as a child from German and Hungarian relatives. The only problem I had with the book was that the climax of the story came somewhat before the ending and the plot line was not as strong after that. I kept thinking that it was being set up for a sequel and it turns out I was right (Malcolm confirms that in "Conversation with M.L.Malcolm" in the back of the book). This plot line problem was relative due to the strength before the climax.I recommend this book for anyone who likes books about international intrigue, historical fiction set in the time between the two World Wars and mostly for those who enjoy a really good love story. Good read and I look forward to the sequel.

[addictivelotus · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I found this to be a good light read; something of a palate cleanser, actually. After a long term of heavy graduate school reading and research texts, I always welcome a quality piece of fluffy literature and I believe that is what I found in "Heart of Lies".Following Leo Hoffman through the time period between WWI and WWII is an exciting little adventure. While I get the sense that Malcom wants him to appear dark and anti-heroic, I found him to actually be a likable character (if only by the virtue that he seems to have some personality something his poor love-interest Martha seems to sorely lack) -- his crimes all being out of necessity or pure naivety. I think this darkness could have been fleshed out with more attention to his often alluded to back-story, but that may have thrown off the novel's already delicate pacing.Overall, while "Heart of Lies" did have some issues namely in the form of pacing and character cliches (for example, the Irish family in New York fit nicely into almost every stereotype that exists), I still found the book enjoyable. I read it quickly and probably could have finished in one sitting. Pure cotton-candy commercial fiction to be sure, but sometimes that's just what you need.

[maebsly · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I was so excited to read Heart of Lies. The back cover description sounded exciting and full of action with intrigue and international chases but the cover is somewhat misleading. There isn't much action at all, and in fact it moves kind of slow. The majority of the book seems to focus more on the relationship between Leo and Martha which was one never-ending cliche after another. That is true for a lot of the story (the crooked cop was short and fat with a badly cut suit). The writing seemed to jump around a bit and is at times inconsistent. The casual use of a certain racial slur throughout the book was off-putting and didn't seem necessary, even though it may have been tolerated during the period in which the book was set.I really wanted to feel something for the characters but they didn't seem to have enough depth. Leo really had no personality and Martha seemed just simple and flighty (but the reader is reminded numerous times how beautiful she is).The story does have good points though: The premise is really good and the little bits of history randomly thrown in are interesting.

[hairball_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The premise of this book is interesting, but the execution is a bit lacking.Heart of Lies follows Leo Hoffman from the end of WWI to the 1939 and the beginnings of WWII (a sequel is in the works, apparently). He's a Zelig-like character, showing up in a number of interesting places at interesting times, including Hungary, Paris, Shanghai, Hong Kong, and New York. Hoffman is supposed to be "morally challenged," but ultimately motivated by the deep love he feels for the woman he falls in love with at first sight in Paris. That love story, in many ways, is the book's downfall: the portions dealing with Hoffman and Martha tend towards the hackneyed and unbearable. As for his morality, he's incredibly naive for a man whom various factions are intent upon acquiring as a spy--he's less amoral than a combination of just trying to survive and sometimes not the brightest bulb. (One feels, when reading this novel, that if he were a brighter bulb, the book would not be able to move along.)The author dips in and out of the twenty years from 1919-1939, so the narrative is episodic: happy times! bad times! But it also focuses on various characters--albeit briefly, which doesn't always work in a book of such a short length. (The typesetting looks almost double-spaced; granted, it's a prepub proof, but that doesn't mean it will be longer post-pub.) I felt like the book was lacking--as if more attention could have been paid to the characters and the places, and less to the truly tedious love story.