Race Against the Killer

By Neal Chadwick

Race Against the Killer

Neal Chadwick

The size of this book corresponds to 112 paperback pages.

An illegal race from coast to coast – and one of the drivers is a killer!

Neal Chadwick's novels are thrillers in a class of their own - hard, action-packed and surprising in resolution. Investigators on the trail of unscrupulous criminals.

Neal Chadwick is a pen-name of Alfred Bekker.

Alfred Bekker is a well-known author of fantasy novels, crime novels and books for young people. In addition to his great book successes, he has written numerous novels for tension series such as Ren Dhark, Jerry Cotton, Cotton reloaded, Kommissar X, John Sinclair and Jessica Bannister. He also published under the names Neal Chadwick, Henry Rohmer, Conny Walden and Janet Farell.

Cover picture: Tony Masero

• Language: English
• Publisher: Casssiopeia-XXX-press
• Release date: Jul 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386021544

Book preview

Race Against the Killer

Neal Chadwick

Published by Casssiopeia-XXX-press, 2018.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Race Against the Killer | Neal Chadwick

Also By Neal Chadwick

Race Against the Killer

Neal Chadwick

The size of this book corresponds to 112 paperback pages.

An illegal race from coast to coast – and one of the drivers is a killer!

Neal Chadwick's novels are thrillers in a class of their own - hard, action-packed and surprising in resolution. Investigators on the trail of unscrupulous criminals.

NEAL CHADWICK IS A pen-name of Alfred Bekker.

Alfred Bekker is a well-known author of fantasy novels, crime novels and books for young people. In addition to his great book successes, he has written numerous novels for tension series such as Ren Dhark, Jerry Cotton, Cotton reloaded, Kommissar X, John Sinclair and Jessica Bannister. He also published under the names Neal Chadwick, Henry Rohmer, Conny Walden and Janet Farell.

Cover picture: Tony Masero

Copyright

NEAL CHADWICK IS A PEN-NAME OF ALFRED BEKKER

A CassiopeiaPress Book: CASSIOPEIAPRESS, UKSAK E-Books and BEKKERpublishing are Imprints by Alfred Bekker

by Author

© of this issue 2016 by AlfredBekker/CassiopeiaPress, Lengerich/Westphalia.

ORIGINAL WETTLAUF MIT DEM KILLER

All rights reserved.

www.AlfredBekker.de

[e-mail]

1

The sports car made the engine howl and came within a maximum distance of two metres of the Porsche in front of it. The two-lane road ran like a line through the landscape. A column of three trucks approached from the front. The sports car accelerated, pulled into the left lane, raced headlong towards the trucks and accelerated. The driver apparently stepped on the gas pedal.

But the Porsche accelerated as well.

Neither of the two opponents was willing to give in.

The sports car pushed itself half a car length ahead of the Porsche. But that wasn't enough to make a turn.

The first of the trucks already honked and slowed down. But twenty tons could not be stopped so easily, especially since the following vehicles could not see anything of the danger.

Seconds more and there was a frontal crash between the sports car and the truck, whose driver now had his hand on the horn and his foot on the accelerator pedal.

2

Shortly before a collision with the truck, the sports car managed to get a three-quarter car length advantage over its Porsche colleagues. To avoid a crash with the trucks, he pulled to the right.

Meanwhile, the truck driver stepped on his heels. The tires blocked. The following truck could not brake in time and drove into the front vehicle from behind and pushed it forward.

The Porsche also braked. Tires squealed.

Meanwhile, the sports car had touched the left fender of the Porsche. That was enough to throw him off course. The Porsche broke out to the right, turned around completely once, then got another push through the approaching truck, which then finally coned the Porsche from the road and let the side embankment slide down.

The sports car, on the other hand, had just managed to get into the right lane in time to avoid being hit and crushed by the column of trucks pushed into each other.

In the meantime, the third truck had also hit the rear of the column. The first one began to roll, stood crosswise and the following pushed it off the road where it finally landed on its side.

Only the sports car was still on the track. He accelerated.

The side window has been lowered.

The driver held up a stinky finger.

He also sounded his horn.

The driver had the triumph march set up by Verdi as a horn signal.

3

Mr Jonathan D. McKee, the head of the FBI Field Office New York made a very serious face. He pressed a button on the beamer's remote control with which the video sequences of his laptop were projected onto the wall and turned to us.

The image of the sports car, whose driver raised his finger up in a provocative manner, solidified. The harmonically simplified horn version of Verdi's triumphal march broke off.

Besides Milo and I, Clive Caravaggio and Orry Medina and the office workers Max Carter and Nat Norton also took their seats in the simple seating furniture in Mr McKee's office.

Mandy came in and served her famous coffee.

Someone seems to have the same taste in cars as you, my colleague Milo Tucker whispered to me, while Mandy dropped the tray and handed out the cups of hot coffee. 

Mr McKee waited until his secretary had left the room. 

You have just seen a video sequence of how to download it from the Internet. Participants of illegal car races let themselves be filmed with their heroic deeds and place the pictures then also still in the net, in order to boast with it. As you could see, these pictures were taken from a helicopter...

Illegal, partly transcontinental races were a problem the FBI had to deal with time and again. And our field office had also often had to deal with this in the past. Year after year, the FBI, in cooperation with local police authorities, tried to stop these races. But it was like running between the rabbit and the hedgehog. The hedgehog, in this case the organizers of these races, were always there before we could intervene.

The so-called Cannonball races were held on normal roads and time and again completely uninvolved road users were killed or seriously injured by the reckless overtaking manoeuvres and the completely excessive speed at which they were driven.

In particular, owners of luxurious sports cars saw the opportunity to finally take their racing sleds out for a ride.

Another important factor was the money. The entry fees alone were sometimes 40,000 dollars and more. Astronomical sums beckoned for the winner. And even more could be earned through betting and betting manipulation.

And that was the main interface of these races on organised crime.

I hope the guy in the sports car is now sitting on Rikers Island or in Utica and has been banned from driving for life, commented our colleague Clive Caravaggio on the scene Mr McKee had just shown us. The flaxen Italian-American was the second man in the field office after Mr McKee. He just shook his head.

The man who drove the sports car is actually in custody for several years, reported Mr McKee. His name is Roger Petaffsky and he was given a few years' humming because two people died in another accident. It happened about twenty kilometers from where the pictures you just saw were taken.

How can you put such shots on the net and believe that you won't get caught afterwards, Orry said uncomprehendingly. Our Indian colleague took a sip of coffee.

I suppose vanity is greater than fear of prison! Milo believed.

The fact is that thousands of such video sequences can be found on the Internet, reported our office worker Max Carter from the Investigation Department. As far as conclusions can be drawn about criminal acts and the perpetrators can be identified, they will also be brought to justice. But that's not as easy as you might think. Firstly, the perpetrators usually make sure that they are not recognizable themselves and, in addition, false number plates are often used. In the case of Mr Petaffsky, however, he has transformed himself through his urge for self-portrayal. Max stood up and reached out his hand. If you'll just give me the beamer, Mr. McKee.

Please! said our boss and gave the