The Midnight Club
A stunningly brilliant psychopathic killer who has skillfully eluded the police from London to Paris to New York. A beautiful woman journalist suddenly in grave danger. An unorthodox New York detective whose motive for stopping the killer couldn't be more personal or emotional.
new place, taking everything in, making connections and mental notes. There were two sleek, black Sony videotape cameras. One wall was covered with stacks of videocassettes, hundreds of cassettes in black boxes. The blue-movie history of Allure? A complete library of tender and touching moments? He asked the $64,000 question next. “Was this room being used last night?” There was nothing like having a homicide filmed to help catch the murderer. “I don’t know, Lieutenant. I don’t remember seeing
undercover police work. Well, it’s different. It disorients you. You’re not sure which side you’re on.” The deputy police commissioner listened and he nodded. Parker remembered that Mackey had always been a good listener, a rabbi inside the department. “You’re on the right side of the law. You’re still on the side of the angels. Don’t worry about that, Isiah. What the hell choice did we have? What choice did they give us?…They were practicing their goddamn street law. The Colombians had their
emergency room at Lenox Hill Hospital, one of the city’s best facilities. Stefanovitch had gone there with his unconscious friend, traveling in the back of a speeding EMS ambulance. He’d watched as the Bear was finally pronounced dead. When a policeman or fireman arrives in critical condition at a New York hospital, the best doctors and nurses usually assist, trying everything to save the injured officer. There was nothing any of them could do this time. The shock and sadness of the emergency
rewarded for their diligence and patience. “That’s them now. They’re here. Blue Mercedes.” A man named Jimmy Burke spoke softly inside the Escort. He straightened himself behind the car’s steering wheel. He gestured down Ninety-ninth Street, toward a town house known to the men in the Escort as Allure. The four-story town house was overshadowed by the neighborhood’s taller and more stately apartment buildings. Discreet and inconspicuous, its midblock location allowed visitors to slip in and
transformers to Austin; Sarah renewing some casual, New-York-apartment-style relationships with the other tenants. Watching Sam, Sarah felt as if the life she’d been leading lately was completely unreal. “I think we’d better scoot,” she finally called over to Sam. He said good-bye to his friend, suggesting they have a hard ball catch out in the back alley after school. The superintendent usually let them play there—unless he was working on the water pipes, which he seemed to paint or scrape