Lightning (87th Precinct, Book 37) by Ed McBain

By Ed McBain

The town could be a unusual position, jam-packed with ordinary attractions. occasionally chilling attractions. yet not anything might organize the detectives of the 87th Precinct for the sight of a murdered younger girl, a member of a neighborhood collage music workforce, putting from a lamppost. Nor may they be prepared for the scoop that a similar evening, one other lady is raped for the 3rd time—by a similar guy. situations, perpetrators, one chilling evening.

Can the detectives of the 87th, with support from fats Ollie Weeks and Rape Squad Decoy Eileen Burke, positioned them in the back of bars for stable? The staff doesn’t have a lot time, since it basically takes a second for lightning to strike again.

One of Ed McBain’s grittiest installments of his famed 87th Precinct sequence, Lightning is a masterpiece of suspense, brooding depth, and creative plotting that elevates crime fiction to its maximum attainable airplane.

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Additional resources for Lightning (87th Precinct, Book 37)

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The rug, I thought, might give me a clue as to where the box had come from. Most trainers and some owners have their initials embroidered or sewn in tape in large letters on the corners of their horse rugs. If there were initials on this one, it would be easy. I picked it up. It was pale fawn with a dark brown binding. I found the initials. I stood there as if turned to stone. Y. It was my own rug. Pete, when I ran him to earth, looked in no mood to answer any questions needing much thought. He leaned back against the weighing-room wall with a glass of champagne in one hand and a cigar in the other, surrounded by a pack of friends similarly equipped.

I said, as he lapsed into silence again. ' I told him about the wire. He listened with a calm, unsurprised expression, but his grey eyes were bleak. ' said Pete. 'Can't say I blame you. I can't help you much, though. There's only one thing… Bill told me he'd had a telephone call which made him laugh. But I didn't listen pro- perly to what he said - I was thinking about my horses, you know how it is. It was something about Admiral falling. He thought it was a huge joke and I didn't go into it with him to find out what I'd missed.

I don't know,' I said, perplexed and more interested in Joe's troubles than I had been before. The phone call was inconsistent, I thought, with the notes. One ordered business as usual, the other promised revenge. 'I wonder if Joe always tells the truth,' I said. 'Highly unlikely,' said Dane, dismissing it. One of the Stewards came and reminded us that even after the Champion Hurdle, drinking in the weighing room itself was frowned on, and would we please drift along into the changing room. Dane did that, but I finished my drink and went outside.

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