Stu Heinrichs was the kind of guy who drank beer with your
dad and let you drive his DeLorean. He took you to baseball games and bought
you lunch and didn't yell when you puked in his car. But he wasn’t a good guy
then, and he’s not a good guy now—something ex-state cop Dan Spalding always
knew but kept forgetting on purpose.
Now when a twenty-year old porn star takes a deliberate
header off Stu’s luxury yacht with Dan as a witness, he’s caught in a web of
murder and media outrage with more questions than answers.
Answers that just might leave Dan cold and dead at the
bottom of Carnal Cove.
As the body count mounts, the blitz is on, and Dan Spalding
puts his life, love, and passion for vintage vinyl records on the line in a
wild gambit to blow up the past and gain a future.
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A NEW FREE CRIME STORY
FROM RICHARD PROSCH
THE LUCK OF FRANKIE IRISH
November 9, 1965: More than 53 years ago, my mom—six
months pregnant with me—was stuck in JFK International Airport when the
lights went out. Nobody expected the grid to be down for long, but the blackout
stretched through the night into the next morning. At JFK, people drove cars up
to the windows to shine headlamps into the terminal. Mom remembered a nice
elderly couple who stood up and insisted she sleep on a bench while they
watched over her. The old guy rolled up
his jacket as a pillow, and his wife shared her candy. Mom had several stories
from that night, all good, all filled with the kindness and reasoned ingenuity
of strangers. She never tired of telling about it. Me, I was in the dark
anyway.
A few years ago I read Herbert Asbury’s terrific book, The
Gangs of New York—which inspired a mid-century wiseguy character named Frankie.
He bounced around between stories for a while until one day, I realized Frankie
was at the airport on November 9.
I had to write the following story to find out why he was
there.
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