The Author is Dead

By Lynda Bowles

After the death of her father and his partner, Sam Marlow inherits the detective agency along with their male secretary Kelly.

Her first case alone was brought to her, by dignitaries from the British Embassy involving a renowned author who maybe the missing heir to the Duke of Faulkner.

She accepted the case even though it just didn't feel right from the very beginning. Sam, Kelly and Detective John Chambers are drawn into the unseen side of Washington, D.C..

Finding out exactly who this author is thrusts them into espionage and the CIA. Can a female investigator triumph over the international spies and those chasing them?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lynda Bowles
• Release date: Aug 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301434947

Lynda Bowles

Lynda lives in southwest Virginia with her husband of 43 years. She is a breast cancer survivor of 10 years. Mother of two and grandmother of six, she enjoys a quiet peaceful life and spends her time writing and enjoying her grandchildren.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

He put the finishing touches to his signature on the book. Smiling sweetly he handed the book to a little old lady. She smiled back, turned and slowly went out the door. He looked around the bookstore to see if there was anyone else waiting for him. Noting the time, he stood up and stretched.

Boy, this is the easiest job I have ever had to do, he murmured to himself. Just sit here all day pretending I'm a famous author and sign books for his idiot fans. He laughed to himself as he straightened his tie, smoothed out his slacks and looked at his watch. About time for some chow, he thought, I'll have to hurry though so I can be back in time for the evening signing.

After the evening signing, he thought. I'll go back to the bar I found a few days ago; maybe if I'm lucky, I'll find another wild one and we will go back to the hotel for the evening. Might as well take advantage of the plush setting, he thought. Most of the girls around here really go in for the ritzy life style."

He made his way out of the store and down the mall concourse stepping into the men's room close to the mall's entrance. He didn't notice the guy who had been watching and following him all day. As he went in, he had a strange feeling that something wasn't right; he looked around but didn't see anything unusual, Nerves, he thought as he shrugged his shoulders, turning back to the urinal. He stood thinking about the hot luscious girl he wanted to pick up when suddenly, he felt an excruciating pain in the back of his head, then nothing.

The man in the brown suit caught him before he hit the floor. He had to move fast. The train would be coming soon. The body had to be positioned just right to make it look like a jumper. Hurrying to the exit with the body he let people around him think he was assisting a drunk friend in the middle of the day. Since it was Washington, D.C., people were used to seeing well-dressed men staggering around the mall.

He went out the door and down the hall to the subway station. Looking around he positioned the body up against one of the pillars in the station. Just a few more minutes, he thought to himself. The lights above his head started blinking indicating the train would soon be in. As the train came around the corner, he slipped his arm out from underneath the body and pushed.

The sound of crunching bones and muscle filled the air along with the screams of the people waiting on the platform. In the turmoil of the crowd he slipped away. Soon, very soon, everyone would know that the famous author was dead.

Chapter One

Sam sat at her desk going over the mountain of bills her secretary had left that morning. Ever since her partner, Bill Slade, had been murdered in the alley behind their offices, business had slowed down to a trickle. She didn't know how much longer she was going to be able to keep going. Kelly, her secretary, had informed her the day before that if the business didn't pick up soon; he was going to be forced to take another job.

It was starting to look bad for the Marlow and Slade Detective Agency. Bill Slade had been her lifeline when her father, Michael Marlow, had died of a massive heart attack three years before. Sam had been working with her father and Bill since high school on various cases ranging from a simple lost and found to unresolved murder cases. She seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to finding lost objects and clues to murder cases.

It seemed she was always guided to the right spot at the right time to find the answers. Finding clues the police had overlooked was her specialty.

Now that Bill was dead no one seemed to want to hire a female investigator for anything except, trying to catch a promiscuous wife or husband. Cases like that bored her to tears. If a wife or husband wanted to fool around why not accept it, dump the jerk and get on with it. A lot of her past clients found this attitude callous but Sam really didn't care. From experience she knew you couldn't keep someone with you if they didn't want to be there. Her ex-fiance proved that to her a couple of years ago. Her motto now, never let your heart get in the way of a good time. Love'm and leave'm.

God, I must be getting morbid dwelling on the past, Sam muttered to herself, as she sorted through the bills on her desk. She reached over to the intercom and buzzed Kelly.

Yes, Sam what do you need? Kelly answered.

Can you come in here and help go through this mountain of bills you gave me? Maybe between the two of us we can figure out who to pay and who gets the shaft.

Okay Sam, just as soon as I finish setting up your afternoon appointment.

What appointment?

Just hold on a minute, Kelly snapped. I'll tell you all about it in a moment. He turned off the intercom.

Touchy old grouch, Sam murmured. Since Bill had died, Kelly had been getting extremely difficult to deal with. His relationship with Bill had always been a subject that no one would talk about even though it was quite obvious. Kelly had been the one who had discovered Bill's body in the back alley. He wouldn't show how devastated he was, but Sam knew. As the weeks passed and no new evidence had been found, Kelly had become grouchy and more difficult to deal with.

Five minutes later Kelly Carson walked into her office and sat down in the chair in front of her desk. He was a tall willowy, blonde man in his early forties, handsome in a distinguished way, very immaculate in dress and always correct in his manners both professionally and socially. He was always calm, cool and collected, never allowing anyone to know what he was thinking or feeling. He made the perfect secretary for a detective agency giving an air of complete confidentiality and efficiency. Sam on the other hand was a muscular, petite, brown eyed brunette with a fiery temper, living on her emotions and gut feelings most of the time. If she didn't like what was going on she told you. Blunt and to the point, her father always said, never let your client doubt a word you say, make sure everything was out in the open, no hidden agendas. Sam had always lived her life this way.

Okay, Sam, you have an appointment at 2:00 p.m. this afternoon. We have to get your desk in order and you need to have your hair done before your clients arrive. They are very influential people in Washington, D.C. and you need to put your best foot forward. I've made an appointment with Charlie at 11:00 a.m. to give you the works. Thank God, you had your hair trimmed last week. Kelly informed her, as he looked her over from head to toe.

What do you mean I need my best foot forward? What kind of people are we dealing with–other than the fact they are very influential in Washington, D.C.?

They are liaisons with the Embassy of the United Kingdom.

Oh, a couple of Mr. hoity-toities from England, Huh?

Please, Samantha have a little respect. The liaisons can put you in the black with the little project they have for you, and goodness knows you certainly can use it. Kelly snapped at her as he sat down. After your hair appointment come straight back to the office, I will have your best blue suit back from the dry cleaners. God I hope they got that stain out. You can change here. That way you won't be late for your appointment. Understand me? I know I am only your secretary, but I have been around here long enough to see you grow from a dowdy, pig-tailed child, into a very mature, attractive young woman. I want to help maintain the dignity of your father's and Bill's business for as long as possible.

Okay, Kelly, okay, Sam chuckled, it was nice having the mother hen back. After weeks of moping and grouching around it was great to have him back to normal. Yes, Mama Kelly, I will be a good girl, mind my manners and look very prim and proper for the ambassadors.

Not ambassadors—liaisons, Kelly corrected. Now, get moving so you can be finished and back by 1:30 p.m., No later. I don't want you to be rushing in here at 1:55 trying to get your clothes on. I want you to be presentable by 2:00. Move it!

Sam picked up her purse, keys and started toward the door laughing. She turned at the door and said in her snootiest voice, Kelly, my dear, can we have a spot of tea prepared for our dignitaries.

Kelly raised his eyebrows at her as she closed the door.

Sam returned to the office at 1:15, and noticed Kelly on the phone again, completely preoccupied with his conversation. He nodded at her and she went into her office. On the couch was her blue suit and white blouse fresh from the dry cleaners. Attached to them was a sticky-note saying to quickly put them on and make sure there were no runs in her stockings. Sam shook her head and changed. As she was putting her shoes back on the intercom buzzed on her desk.

Yes, Kelly, she answered.

Ms. Marlow, your 2:00 o'clock appointment has arrived.

Thank you, Mr. Carson, please send them in. Sam quickly sat down in her chair, straightened her clothes and prepared a smile for the dignitaries.

Kelly opened the door, ... In walked three very distinguished gentlemen. Something was odd about these guys. They seemed stiff like the British, but yet, not quite right. They appeared to be confused about what was going on. Sam rose from her chair and walked in front of her desk.

The first gentleman to walk in was a very tall thin man with reddish hair and freckles everywhere, he reached out shook her hand gently.

How do you do Ms. Marlow, I am very happy to meet you. Let me introduce my friends to you. This is Mr. O'Toole, indicating a small wiry man with beady eyes and a bald head. This is Mr. Davis, nodding at a short stocky gentleman with a receding hairline as he stepped forward.

I am Mr. Green. We are here on a very important mission that we know only you can resolve.

Sam looked at them, nodded her head and asked them to be seated. She turned to Kelly and asked, Kelly would you please bring in the tea for our dignitaries and come back with your steno pad. I would like for you to take notes during our meeting.

Kelly looked at her, smiled, nodded his head and went back out the door.

The three gentlemen sat down in their chairs only after Sam returned to her seat behind her desk.

Mr. Green said, We are under the impression this is the Marlow and Slade Detective Agency.

Yes, it is. I'm Ms. Marlow. My partner, Bill Slade, has recently died. I am still running the agency now, just as if he was still here. Is there a problem with this, Sir?

Oh no, no, no! You misunderstand me, I was just trying to reconfirm information that we have regarding your detective agency. If you don't mind, my partners and I would like to ask a few questions regarding your procedures for investigations. You understand?

Very well, Sir, if you don't mind waiting until my secretary returns, I will be happy to answer any and all questions you have. This way Kelly will be able to take it all down, so there won't be any confusion later on in case you have some questions or you are not satisfied with the results of the case.

Very good, very good, said Mr. Green. That sounds very appropriate to me. We will wait for your sweet little secretary to return, he sneered at her.

Sam looked at him angrily and started to inform him what she thought of his investigation and where he could stick his snide remarks. Fortunately, Kelly returned with the teacart just in time to save her from having to do just that. Sam was surprised to see the cart. There had never been one in the office before and Sam had no idea where Kelly had dug this one up.

Ah, the tea is here, Kelly would you please play mother and pour the tea for us, Sam asked. Kelly looked at her for a few seconds before he proceeded to pour out the tea in tiny china cups. She couldn't imagine where he had found the tea set. He must have raided his own china cabinet, it was the only explanation she could come up with. Once everyone had received their cups of tea and had gone through the procedure of getting the cream, sugar and lemon they all relaxed as Kelly sat down beside Sam with his pad and pencil.

Now, Mr. Green, you were beginning to ask me how I go about investigating. Can you tell me what, or whom I will be investigating? This will give me a better idea on how to answer your questions on procedures.

Thank you Ms. Marlow, I believe I will turn everything over to Mr. O'Toole, who will give you the details of whom we are looking.

Thank you, Sam smiled, gritting her teeth. She was getting tired of being nice to these pompous asses, every time she looked at one of them she wanted to wipe the silly smirks off their faces. Since Kelly was sitting beside her and had already kicked her shin twice she decided it would be best to mind her P’s and Q’s and get on with the meeting.

Mr. O'Toole turned to her, pulling out a little notebook, turning it to a certain page he began as if he were reading a script, We are here to find the missing heir of the Duke and Duchess of Faulkner that was kidnapped 25 years ago. We are trying to reunite him with his family, in order for him to take his rightful place in society. He was kidnapped from the Faulkners when he was six years old while they were visiting friends in New York City. The last information we had was a newspaper clipping from the Washington Post about three months ago. A friend of the family saw his picture in the paper and recognized a resemblance to his father. She immediately contacted the father and showed him the newspaper clipping. It appears that he was on a book tour promoting his latest novel. The last known address was the Colombian International Hotel here in Washington, D. C., Room 245. That is all the information we have been able to find.

Well, this is different, Sam acknowledged. How can you be sure this author is the man you are looking for? You said it had been twenty-five years since the kidnapping, people change a lot during that period of time especially children. What name is the author using?

Well, Mr. Davis spoke up, he is using the name of William Joseph Jefferey. Jefferey is the maiden name of the Duchess of Faulkner. William is his father's name and Joseph is his grandfather's name on his mother's side. It seemed a bit unusual that a perfect stranger would use all three of these names and resemble the Duke. Mr. Davis took a sip of tea and leaned back in his chair looking smug.

I see, Sam said, making eye contact with each of the men. Before we go any further, would you mind showing me your credentials? Just as a safeguard, you understand. I would like to be sure I am dealing with the Embassy.

Not at all my dear, Mr. Green said. All three of them looked at each other, pulled out their wallets and showed the Embassy identification cards along with their visas for six months in the United States. Their attitude was bizarre most foreign dignitaries or liaisons usually became huffy and gave her a hard time when she asked for identification.

"Thank you, sirs, now if you can give me some more information we will see what we can do to try and find Mr. Jefferey.

O'Toole looked at Green and nodded; Green looked at Davis and nodded; Davis looked at Mr. O'Toole and nodded.

This was becoming a bit monotonous as far as Sam was concerned. It seemed the three had only one brain between them and they were all afraid to use it.

Mr. Green spoke again, Mr. Jefferey was last seen in the book signing promotion at, uh—I believe you call it Crystal City at 4:00 o'clock Wednesday, September 12th. No one has seen him since. We had arranged with his agent to meet with him for lunch and present him with the information on his background when he disappeared. It is imperative that we find him as soon as possible. You see the Duchess is in bad health and she wants to see her son before she passes on. You do understand that this must be kept totally confidential. There must not be any leaks. We would not want the Duchess to get her hopes up and then have them dashed to the ground.

I understand, Mr. Green, Sam said. Before we go any further let's go over a few financial details.

By all means my dear, Mr. O'Toole spoke up. We are prepared to offer you a $1,000.00 a day plus expenses for as long as it possibly takes for you to find Mr. Jefferey. If you take the case, that is?

Sam looked at Kelly and he raised his eyebrows, a thousand dollars a day, she thought, My God she could be out of debt in a few weeks. She turned to O’Toole and stood up saying," Thank you Mr. O’Toole, we will be happy to take your case. We are asking for a retainer fee just to keep things legal. Any information that I