The Killing Connection (Dirty Harry, Book 9)
Anything goes in San Francisco, but now it's gone too far! Somebody is carving up beautiful lesbians — and that somebody has the right friends. Only Harry can stop the slaughter, but now both the gays and the cops stand in his way. Will he have time? The answer is at the end of a barrel — a .44 Magnum barrel!
greatest of reluctance. “What does he want? To explain this morning’s ‘Hagar the Horrible’ comic strip?” “Your guess is as good as mine, Harry. Our only instructions were to send you down to McClaren Park.” That wasn’t so bad. The park was less than two miles from the market. “Where in the park?” Harry asked. “The place is more than a mile long.” “The northeast corner,” the homicide sergeant said. “Near the reservoir. He says you can’t miss it. The place is crawling with uniforms and
again? Is there anyplace safe? Is anyone?” Here the reporter paused ominously, then signed off. “Ted Burnett . . . Eyewitness Action News.” Harry went at the set from the bathroom. He just managed to keep himself from putting his leg through the picture tube as anchorman John continued with professional seriousness. “Thank you, Ted. Violence against women is not new in the City by the Bay, but it seems as if it has reached epidemic proportions this year. For background on this story, here’s
Copyright © 1982 by Warner Books, Inc. All rights reserved. Warner Books, Inc., 75 Rockefeller Plaza, New York, N.Y. 10019 A Warner Communications Company Printed in the United States of America ISBN: 0-446-30050-0 First Printing: October, 1982 DIRTY HARRY #9 THE KILLING CONNECTION C H A P T E R O n e Everything looked fine until the girls kissed. Up until then, they simply looked like two girlfriends coming home after a movie or a late dinner. There was nothing unusual
knowing it would do little good. “Just wait for SAFE to make its move.” “What do you think this is?” the captain snorted, pulling his high, plush black chair out. “The Lost and Found Department? Forget it, Callahan. You’re bounced.” He sat down and started reading some reports. “Captain,” Harry said evenly. “Somebody killed that girl last night. It wasn’t me.” McKay raised his head, his eyes veiled. “What are you suggesting, Inspector?” “Angela Mayer was at a SAFE meeting last night.
repeatedly. When Harry cut it away, he found a sponge taped in place over her knotted pantyhose which was forced between her lips. The fading bruises of the rape were joined by brand new ones which split her lower lip and nearly closed one eye. Her sweater was practically torn off her body with many more welts beneath the tears on her torso. A wide, custodial broom had its base propped against the dressing room wall in such a way that the handle was pushed between Kimberly Byrnes’ outstretched