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Close to Evil von Brown, Peter (eBook)

  • Erscheinungsdatum: 15.05.2013
  • Verlag: First Edition Design Publishing
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Close to Evil

Somebody's been doing the world a favour and bumping off all the City's top bankers. But did that same somebody kill Chrissie Barker? An aging Indiana Jones is hired by a preppy corporate lawyer to find her sister's killer. They have a history these two: utter contempt can best describe her feelings towards him; animal lust his feelings towards her; a thorny relationship that endures right up until the dark and evil conclusion of this on again, off again, investigation. Peter Brown was once Head of Research for a major stock-brokering firm and knows all about the shenanigans that bankers and their paid escorts get up to; knows all about the hollowing out of middle class America by globalization; knows all about the opaque world of thoroughbred horse breeding and racing; and he brings all of that knowledge to bear in this entertaining and fast-paced journey into hell to unearth a killer


    Format: ePUB
    Kopierschutz: watermark
    Seitenzahl: 100
    Erscheinungsdatum: 15.05.2013
    Sprache: Englisch
    ISBN: 9781622873203
    Verlag: First Edition Design Publishing
    Größe: 287 kBytes
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Close to Evil


"Jesus Christ, Jack, how many times I gotta tell you-more aperture. "Specially when your subjects bouncing 'round all over the place like this."

"Didn't know she was a sexual bunjee jumper, did I?"

Al continued to shake his head in disgust.

"Look, you know I'm not great with a camera, but you can see who he is an' you can see who she is an' you can see they're not playing scrabble. Now that's good enough for me, good enough for my client, and good enough for the divorce lawyers."

More head shaking.

"What? C'mon, Al, don't bust my chops here."

"When was your first time, Jack?"

I didn't reply. I wasn't in the mood to play one of Al's little games

"She reminds me of Amelia Soarez, you know. You remember Amelia Soarez?"

Now my interest was piqued. Who could forget Amelia Soarez? Greatly endowed by nature's bounty an image of our voluptuous Brazilian school music teacher of yester-year flashed across my memory bank: Dark haired and big breasted, Amelia Soarez's ample proportions spawned more schoolboy wet-dreams than Natalie Wood, Ann-Margret and Raquel Welch combined.

"Christ, Jack. How could you forget Amelia Soarez?"

"The Music teacher," I said.

Al laughed: "We made lots of music together, Jack. Had me back for extra lessons. Lots of extra lesson..."

"And you still can't play a note," I said. "How come you never told me about this?"

"I wanted to Jack. Believe me I wanted to. But you were such a little snitch in those days. I couldn't take a chance."

"Snitch, hell. You just didn't want me to have any private lessons, you selfish bastard."

Al laughed, quickly changing the subject: "Did I show you my latest invention?"

It took me a while to figure out what the straw-like contraption was all about, but the little white miniature golf balls gave it away.

"A bird's nest?"

"Fit the video cam in here, right....nail it to the tree....bingo you got yourself twenty four hour surveillance."

I could see cuckoos laying eggs in it....cats pawing away at it: "Great invention, Al."

Swinging by the sports bar on the way home, I was still pissed off that Al hadn't told me about Amelia Soarez all those years ago.

"Dolores say when she'll be back?"

"You're the one giving it to her, Jack. You tell me."

"Visiting her mother for a while. All she said."

"Yeah, well your favorite waitress don't start work here again until next Friday." Charlie Bird, manager of the City's finest sports and dining establishment gave me a knowing smile: "Tired of beating your own meat, huh?"

"You got a foul mouth, Charlie."

"Truth hurts, huh?"

The truth was one of my female clients had allowed me to screw her, by way of a small thank you. Golden thighs and teeming breasts it had aroused the animal in me and I couldn't wait for Dolores's return. Sex mattered. Ever and always. Even to a middle-aged fart like me.

"So what'll it be tonight-Cardinals, or the Saints?"

"Three losses in a row. Saints can't lose this one."

"Whatever you say, Champ."

The foul came in the dying seconds of the game. The Saints could still win. Marvelous Marvin was a great player, but under pressure.... well he could sometimes be a little 'iffy'. I couldn't watch. I didn't need to-the groans said it all.

At a little past one in the morni

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