Teeter-Totter between Lust and Murder…an excerpt…
With Teeter-Totter between Lust and Murder, I continue the “Detectives Chen and Castilblanco Series.” The sleuths of The Midas Bomb and Angels Need Not Apply will embroil you in action and suspense yet again. As a mystery novel (my first), it is a dark probing into the nexus the crime underworld sometimes enjoys with the rich and powerful. Chen is arrested for the murder of a senator in circumstances that seem to leave no doubt of her guilt, but Castilblanco helps prove her innocence. With this new crime novel, I continue the saga of your two favorite detectives as they and their companions fight the corrupting influence of the illegal weapons trade. Available soon. Here is an excerpt:
***
“That’s one mixed-up kid,” said Chen as we tried to flag a taxi.
“Maybe you were the only sane one who went to bed with the bastard,” I said.
“You manage to praise me and insult my choices at the same time, Rollie. That’s very efficient of you.”
A taxi stopped, she climbed in, and slid to the street side of the seat. I followed her. The cabby took Central Park North to Fifth.
“I’m assuming it wasn’t his power or money, so I’m at a loss. But I’ll apologize.” I raised my hands in defeat. “I don’t think she did it.”
“I know you like Drach for the murder. He does seem to be key. Unless it was the hot dog vendor.” The slight smile meant she accepted my apology. “I take it you don’t like any of the ex-wives or girlfriends. Besides Drach, who else could it be?”
“Well, there’s Kingsman and the old lady. And how ‘bout Grasso?”
“I think Grasso leads to Drach. Maybe we should determine who told him to put out the contract on me.”
A motorcycle pulled parallel with us. Single rider dressed as messenger. Not carrying packages, though.
“Down!”
Safety glass shattered as bullets slammed into the car. The driver slumped, the car spun and rolled, we flipped twice, slid upside-down into a crowd, and ended by destroying a hydrant on Fifth between 92nd and 93rd.
My window was intact, so I used my Glock to break it. I decided on second thought I would never fit through it. I pushed down the door handle and gave the door a kick with both feet. After the third time, it popped open. We crawled out.
The driver was dead. Chen was cut by flying glass. I was OK but pissed. We backed away when the gas tank exploded.
Two uniforms came running. We flashed our badges.
“Didn’t happen to see anything, did you?” I said.
“Heard the shots,” said one. “I think it was a guy on a cycle. Delivery guy, maybe?”
“Call it in—backup, EMTs, coroner, the whole nine yards. Then do some crowd control and start finding witnesses. I want a license number and description. The guy didn’t have a helmet.”
“That’s against the law now,” said the younger cop.
Maybe New York’s finest but not the brightest? My expression wasn’t sympathetic. Chen smiled.
***
In libris libertas….
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