The Mercedes Coffin: A Decker/Lazarus Novel (Decker/Lazarus Novels)
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Billionaire Genoa Greeves believes the L.A.P.D. should finally solve the fifteen-year-old execution-style murder of her favorite teacher, Bennett Little—especially now that Hollywood music producer Primo Ekerling has been slain in an eerily similar manner: shot and stuffed into the trunk of his Mercedes Benz.
Lieutenant Peter Decker resents having to commit valuable manpower to a cold case simply because a rich woman says, "Jump!" But when a primary investigator in the Little case, now retired, suspiciously commits suicide hours after he and Decker talk, the detective realizes something evil's connecting the dots in two murders separated by a decade and a half. Wife Rina Lazarus offers a cool, rational outlook, as always, despite her growing concern for her husband's welfare—as past and present collide with a vengeance, catapulting Decker ever closer to the edge of an infinite dark abyss.
I’ll see you later.” ONCE THEY DETERMINED that it was most likely Rudy’s face, they discovered that he’d frequented the place before, one time with a bald head—probably a head cap—and another time with a blond wig. The most recent visit—three weeks ago—showed him wearing a baseball cap with a bomber jacket. “This one…” The clerk hit the photograph with the tips of his fingers. “He likes them with meat.” The clerk was Cecil Dobbins: fifty-eight, five six, two forty with a raging potbelly,
the only person other than her parents who ever gave her a word of encouragement. Smart people have long memories.” She raised an eyebrow and said nothing. “Do you remember her?” Decker asked. “Not at all, but her words don’t surprise me. Ben was always doing things for other people. I’ve never met a more altruistic man in my entire life. Sometimes I almost wish I had discovered a drug habit or a mistress. It would have made him more human. By now, the man has reached Godlike stature in my
touched core issues in the community.” Marge just nodded. “Like you care.” He didn’t try to hide his disdain. “I’m boring you.” “No, you’re not and I do care,” Marge retorted. “Every day that I work I’m acutely aware that there are victims who can’t talk for themselves. I wouldn’t be a homicide detective if all I wanted to do was bust heads. Right now my victim is Bennett Little and that’s why I’m here. Did you ever record with Darnell?” “I’m getting to that. Y’see, Darnell kept asking me to
reception as the Vic chugged through the mountain pass. When he reached the top of the hill, he used his voice-activated earpiece to talk hands-free. Cindy picked up on the third ring. “Are you busy?” he said without introduction. “Just sitting down to a vegetarian club salad.” Decker checked his watch. It was eleven-thirty. “Early lunch?” “Joe’s hungry and the timing works. What’s up?” “I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes. It would be helpful if you had some privacy.” “Hold on.”
we’re both up.” “You have an answer for everything.” “Multitasking is the hallmark of brains in my generation.” She kissed him again. “I love you, Abba. Close the door on the way out.” CHAPTER 35 BY THE TIME Decker made it over to County Jail and went through procedure to gain entrance, Rip Garrett and Tito Diaz were already in the interview cell, sitting on metal chairs, drinking coffee from paper cups. Both of them had on typical detective dress: dark suits, white shirts and dark