By Howard Engel
Benny Cooperman is a detective with aptitude. This kinder, gentler detective-funny, shrewdpermanent and squeamish approximately violence-is the production of grasp of the style Howard Engel, whose enthusiastic fanatics comprise Ruth Rendell, Donald E. Westlake, Julian Symons, and Tony Hillerman. His readers stretch now to 13 nations, from his local Canada to Japan, England, Germany, Italy, Spain, Denmark, and the united states. In his most modern case, Benny Cooperman is bound that poisonous waste isn't really whatever you need to spend an excessive amount of time considering about-it seriously isn't reliable to your psychological well-being. but if Jack Dowden's widow appeals to Benny to enquire the demise of her truck-driving husband, our favourite gumshoe unearths himself as much as his egg salad-stained lapels within the lethal dust of Kinross Disposals. As he reveals clues-and PCBs-the physique count number rises, and Benny Cooperman does every thing he can't to finish up useless and buried.
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Her appearance didn’t hint at any problems with alcohol. I was glad of that. I’d always liked Teddie. Even at the worst of our dealings with Ross, I’d always felt that she was holding me back, holding her lawyer back, too, for that matter. She was always softening the blow. ” I put some money where the waiter could see it near the nearly empty saucer of salted peanuts. She watched me return my wallet to my pocket. Was she holding on to me? I could feel it as surely as if she had me by the sleeve.
I was burning mad at the way things had happened today. At three o’clock I’d never heard of Jack Dowden. Now the doctor was expecting me to be an expert in everything he touched. Sure, I was out for learning. My ignorance was almost total. Why not? Dr. Carswell watched me go through the waiting room to the front door, judging by the sensation between my shoulder-blades. I walked up Ontario Street, feeling a cold wind blowing off the park. Winter was coming, I thought, as a few rusty leaves blew across my path.
You’re lucky to catch me in, you know. I’m only here for the wedding. ” “Well, between you and me, Benny, I hate to stay cooped up in this town. I don’t know how you handle it. Really I don’t. I mean you’re not so old, you’ve got a portable profession. ” Teddie Forbes had pressed my hand with something of the ancient warmth when she’d arrived in The Snug. She was looking at me so intently that I had to let my eyes wander away to the velvet and leather decor of the room. It was full of overtones of Ireland, from the piped-in music to the foolish leprechauns on the coasters under the drinks.