By Carsten Stroud
One other evening falls on big apple urban. A sufferer screams. A siren wails. Eddie Kennedy is on his beat. He's a gold defend murder detective, and his subsequent week of investigations is a trip you'll always remember.
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Extra info for Close Pursuit: A Week in the Life of a New York Homicide Cop
Finally, the chance to try out my interview techniques. I hoped I wouldn’t come oﬀ as a hard-ass, and I bestowed my most sincere smile on David. ” His words tumbled out like a child’s wooden blocks. “Sam and I met last summer working at the resort oﬀ Highway 79. ” He closed his eyes. “She waited tables in the clubhouse and wasn’t impressed with me in the least. I fell for her, fell hard. ” His awkward chuckle was sweet. ” I lit a cigarette. ” “We dated, neither of us expecting much since Sam was only sixteen.
His teeth sparkled in the insurance salesman smile I’ve always hated. I should’ve said something friendly, but tact really wasn’t my strong suit today. ” The glass rattled as the outside door banged shut, courtesy of my well-placed kick. I would’ve been better oﬀ staying in bed. Kevin called Tuesday night to remind me of the meeting time with Shelley. By his clipped tone, either he was unhappy Ray had answered the phone, or was still ticked oﬀ from my parting shot on Saturday. Either way, I didn’t feel I owed him an apology.
Although, he had granted himself bonus points for stealth when faced with her distrustful youth. Despite her adolescent pleas, one clean slice under the soft meat of her chin and she’d 28 bled out as neatly as last season’s antelope. Icy water had puriﬁed the gash discoloring his knuckle. The little whelp had lashed his skin in a ﬁnal, desperate act. He’d worn the mark with pride; worthy prey often scarred him as reminder of a hard fought victory. A splash and shove later, she drifted away like she’d never been.
Close Pursuit: A Week in the Life of a New York Homicide Cop by Carsten Stroud