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John Tuccillo (Autor)

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2021 | 1. Auflage
324 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-1393-6 (ISBN)

Infos

John Stella goes to Florida to help in the investigation of the murder of the sister of a good friend in his home of Hamilton, New Hampshire. He gets involved in the corrupt politics of Sarasota and uncovers a plot to kill and then grab the land owned by elderly nursing home residents. Their chosen instrument is a hardened felon they have' sponsored for release from state prison. The conspiracy includes leading politicians, developers and local boosters who are looking to reap large profits from a potential deal to locate an Olympic training facility adjacent to the land they are acquiring. Johnny begins working the case with homicide Detective Sargent Ellie Grasso, with whom he develops an intense personal relationship. After more homicides, they finally identify the conspiritors. In the process, Johnny has several ribs broken and gets beaten over the head a few times. But in the end, they solve the murders and put the bad guys behind bars (some on death row). During this time, Johnny has fallen in love with Sarasota (and Ellie and decides to spend his winters and springs in Sarasota.

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John Stella goes to Florida to help in the investigation of the murder of the sister of a good friend in his home of Hamilton, New Hampshire. He gets involved in the corrupt politics of Sarasota and uncovers a plot to kill and then grab the land owned by elderly nursing home residents. Their chosen instrument is a hardened felon they have"e; sponsored for release from state prison. The conspiracy includes leading politicians, developers and local boosters who are looking to reap large profits from a potential deal to locate an Olympic training facility adjacent to the land they are acquiring. Johnny begins working the case with homicide Detective Sargent Ellie Grasso, with whom he develops an intense personal relationship. After more homicides, they finally identify the conspiritors. In the process, Johnny has several ribs broken and gets beaten over the head a few times. But in the end, they solve the murders and put the bad guys behind bars (some on death row). During this time, Johnny has fallen in love with Sarasota (and Ellie and decides to spend his winters and springs in Sarasota.

Textauszug

Chapter 2

 

John Stella stretched out in the back of the black town car that would take him from Tampa to Sarasota. It was a pleasure to extend his long legs after the flight from Boston. He didn’t fly much, but when he did he had two problems. He was well over six feet tall and the legroom, of course, was insufficient. There was simply no way he could get comfortable. But even more wearing on him was the shoulder room. Years of high school and college summer construction labor had broadened his shoulders and the regular physical training in the police force had bulked them up. So, every flight would up a combination ballet and sumo match with whomever was sitting beside him to see who would get the armrest and who would have to keep his hands up in the air and out of the way. Even burying himself in the Times puzzle couldn’t make him ignore his discomfort. Thank God for aisle seats. Otherwise it would have been a real melee.

 

While he was still physically fit, his more sedentary lifestyle (he laughed when this thought popped into his head, thinking of Coupeville), age and gravity had begun to erode his midsection. Even running as often as he did couldn’t reverse the inevitable.

 

He settled back into the soft seat and looked around him. He wasn’t in New Hampshire anymore. All around him stretched a vast expanse of blue-green water shimmering toward a far horizon under a cloudless sky. The bay was filled with sails, some freighters and even a cruise ship. Closer in to shore, parasailers filled the sky with brightly colored chutes as they twisted to take advantage of the wind and skitter across the water.

 

Off to his right, the remnants of the old bridge, converted in to a fishing pier, were filled with anglers, dangling their lines. They were closely watched by pelicans perched on pilings, letting the fishermen serve as advance scouts. Occasionally, one or two of the birds would take off and glide over the water, then rise straight up and dive straight down, finally surfacing with a bit of lunch. It would have made a great commercial for headache relief. Off to the left he could make out in the far distance the modest skyline of St. Petersburg. In front of him soared the majestic Sunshine Skyway Bridge, a minimalist span of golden yellow that connected the peninsula of St. Pete Beach with mainland at Palmetto.

 

He knew this would be different, but he sat in awe of the openness, the colors and the sheer beauty of it all. You would never see this in New Hampshire where every place seemed hemmed in by forests of towering evergreens, even on the top of Mount Monadnock. He felt whatever was the opposite of claustrophobia, unease in the presence of far horizons. And this just six hours after he been traveling in a van down to the Boston airport in the pre-dawn darkness through sub-freezing temperatures and a landscape of snow. He had come to a place where the sun was shining and the temperature was over 70 degrees. And it was still February! But this was Florida. He knew the reality would fall far short of the scenery.

 

It was a good hour’s drive from the Tampa airport to Sarasota, so he had time to reflect on the chain of events that brought him to Florida, a place to which he had never had the least desire to go, even in the middle of a New England winter. It had started that Saturday morning at Rick’s when he and Frank were bemoaning the state of their beloved Yankees. They hadn’t been together for Saturday breakfast since Johnny had come back from Whidbey Island. He’d gone there to grieve Helen’s death and wound up dealing with another series of murders.

 

“I swear we’re never going to make it to the series again,” grumbled Frank.

 

“Cheer up, buddy. It’s not nearly as bad as the early 70’s, or for that matter the early 90’s,” countered Johnny. “All it’s going to take is for the Steinbrenners to open their checkbook and we’ll be right back. What bothers me is that the damn Red Sox are already spending like drunken sailors and may get back there before we do.”

 

He thoroughly enjoyed these Saturdays with Frank. He always showed up early so he could do the Times puzzle before Frank got there and today was no different. He didn’t know how he could get along without his daily dose of Will Shortz, and he didn’t want to find out. He and Frank had met thirty years earlier on the job in Philadelphia. Eventually, they’d both found their way to Hamilton, Frank as Chief of Detectives and Stella as a professor at Windham College. They shared the experience of law enforcement, similar backgrounds on the streets of Queens and a devotion to the Yankees.

 

Even though Hamilton was just a small college town in southern New England, it was far from uneventful for them. Since they both arrived in Hamilton, Johnny had saved Frank’s job and his marriage by cracking a couple of murder cases. Frank had saved Johnny’s life twice, once in Hamilton when Al Deering, having killed Johnny’s wife, Helen, was about to shoot him, and once out in Washington state by calling in the FBI from three thousand miles away.

 

Just then Vi, the best waitress at Rick’s, came over, looking like shit. Her eyes were red, her body slumped.

 

“Vi, what’s the matter?”

 

She sat down beside them and began crying, deep sobs of grief.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m trying to hold it together, not to fall apart. But I just can’t handle it. Sue is dead. My sister was killed, in her own home!”

 

They got her to calm down a bit and she told them the story of a burglary gone wrong and the act of violence that had snatched her sister from her. She told the story of going down to Sarasota to identify the body and then arranging for the funeral and burial.

 

Johnny spoke. “Vi, I am so sorry. The only thing I can say is that these things sometimes happen. There are some really bad guys out there whose lust for drugs or money causes them to hurt innocent people.”

 

Vi drew herself up. The grief was still there but now it was joined by a hint of indignation. “Johnny, I told you six months ago about how Sue was afraid because of what she knew about what was going on down there. I asked you to help. You didn’t. Now this.”

 

“Wait a minute.” It was Johnny’s turn to be indignant. “I didn’t cause Sue’s death, and I told you I would help when I could, so don’t go blaming me. I’ve been a little busy with my own problems.”

 

Vi’s face softened. Now there was only sadness. “I’m sorry I said that. It was the grief talking. I know you did what you had to. I really miss her and I need to know why she was killed and who killed her. Now, I’m asking again. Can you help find her killer?”

 

“Vi, that’s like looking for a needle in a haystack when that haystack is in a farmer’s field a couple of counties over where you’ve never been. Besides, I’m sure the local police are doing everything that can. This was probably done by a junkie looking for drugs.”

 

“When I was down for the funeral I spoke with the lead detective on the case, Sergeant Ellie Grasso. She told me that she was suspicious that this was more than a break in, that Sue may have been targeted.”

 

Frank chimed in. “Ellie Grasso? Is she about five-eight, good-looking with dark hair and a slight build?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Johnny, I think that’s Ellie Grasso from Philadelphia. Remember her? Worked out of Street Crime and then the Detective Bureau. I worked two or three cases with her. A sharp detective.”

 

“Yeah, I think I do.”

 

“Johnny, will you help? I mentioned your name to her and I think she recognized it.”

 

“I honestly don’t know what I can do. I can’t just barge into an investigation like this.”

 

Frank spoke. “It’s OK. I know Ellie well. I’ll square it with her.” Johnny looked at him sharply, Just back from almost getting killed on the other coast and now Frank’s dragooning me into going to Florida to look at another killing. But he had promised Vi he’d help, so he pretty much had to.
 

“I guess I have no choice. OK, Vi, I’ll do what I can.”

 

So here he was, being driven through an alien—though very pleasant—landscape to a place he’d never been before—or ever thought he would be—to meet a police detective he only vaguely knew to work on a homicide that may or may not have been random. Oh, well. He owed something to Vi, so he’d take a quick look and then go home and let the locals take care of things. He’d only be here a couple of days. He’d packed accordingly.

 

They got to Sarasota a little after noon and the driver dropped Johnny off at police headquarters. He asked for Detective Grasso at the desk, and sat down to wait. The building was very new with a two-story lobby with a lot of green-tinted glass. The walls were lined with old photos of Sarasota and a gallery of what looked like former police chiefs. A thick glass partition with a window slot separated the reception desk from the public. He shared the lobby with a middle aged black woman sitting at a desk apparently filling out some sort of form and a young, shabbily dressed couple. The man was sitting with his head in his hands and the woman was stroking his back and crooning into his ear. Johnny guessed that they were there to clear up some troubles with the law. As he sat there, policemen were entering and leaving the headquarters. From...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 30.11.2021
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-10: 1-6678-1393-5 / 1667813935
• ISBN-13: 978-1-6678-1393-6 / 9781667813936