By Ed McBain
Murders ensue each day within the immense undesirable urban. They're now not the sort of great deal, you recognize. even if the sufferer is a urban councilman besides often called Lester Henderson.
yet this can be the 1st time fats Ollie Weeks of the 88th Precinct has written a singular, ah definite. known as report back to the Commissioner, it follows a crafty detective named Olivia Wesley Watts, who, except being lady and narrow, is just like fats Ollie himself. whereas Ollie's responding to the squeal concerning the lifeless councilman, his leather-based dispatch case is stolen from the again of his vehicle -- and in it, the one reproduction of his helpful manuscript.
Joined by way of Carella and Kling from the neighboring 87th Precinct, Ollie investigates the murder with all of the beautiful crudeness, insensitivity, and resolution for which he's well-known. however the robbery of his first novel fills Ollie with a renewed ardour for old school detective work.
Following the exploits of 1 of Ed McBain's such a lot cherished detectives, this energetic and complex novel -- the fifty-second within the award-winning 87th Precinct sequence -- may be his top e-book but.
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Additional resources for Fat Ollie's Book (87th Precinct, Book 52)
Yes, my dear,” he had said softly, trying his best to sound as certain as she was. ” She was staring deeply into his eyes now. Her body may have been as limp as a dish towel, but her gaze still carried that same strength that could some how always force him to look at her. “For me, Heaven isn’t far away. I won’t have to wait long. But you, my love, you will. You’ll have to wait. You’ll have to live out the rest of your life, spending years—maybe decades—without me. ” She smiled as playfully as her condition would allow.
Surface ships were used to ﬁghting in formations and took pride in the disciplined uniformity of their maneuvers. Assuming the Selfridge and the O’Bannon had each put ﬁve torpedoes in the wa ter to add to Chevalier’s ﬁve, the Japanese ships now had a small armada of ﬁfteen torpedoes speeding in their direction. Tremain had hardly had time to digest the thought when a deafening salvo blasted the night apart. The Chevalier’s main gun battery had engaged. The deck shook from the simultane ous reports, until Tremain thought the whole ship might shake apart.
It was the Chevalier’s captain, undoubtedly shaking his head in disgust. 26 R. CAMERON COOKE The rugged destroyer captain was probably wondering why he ever agreed to give this rubber-legged submariner a ride to Australia. Of course, what these surface sailors did not understand— Tremain concluded, to make himself feel better—was that a little staggering was understandable in a submariner, since the cramped bridge of a submarine never allowed a man to walk thirty paces in a straight line. “He’s laughing at you, sir,” Fabriano said suddenly, boldly, almost like a challenge.
Fat Ollie's Book (87th Precinct, Book 52) by Ed McBain