The Koch Conspiracy

By Ary S. Jr.

After a serial killer " terrorizes his city, crime reporter Lucien makes it his personal mission to uncover the killer's identity and see him brought to justice. His relentless investigating leads Lucien to Neville Koch, an eccentric billionaire with a disturbing appetite for inflicting pain. In a climactic showdown, Koch is shot dead by a SWAT team as Lucien watches.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ary S. Jr
• Release date: Jan 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223721673

Ary S. Jr.

Ary S. Jr. is a Brazilian author who writes about various topics, such as psychology, spirituality, self-help, and technology. He has published several e-books, some of which are available on platforms like Everand, Scribd, and Goodreads. He is passionate about sharing his knowledge and insights with his readers, and aims to inspire them to live a more fulfilling and meaningful life.

Book preview

The Koch Conspiracy

Introduction

Rain pattered on the cobblestone streets of Paris; the city’s bright lights blurred through the foggy dusk. Lucien Dupont gazed out the window of his private investigator’s office, puffing on his pipe as he watched the darkened silhouettes of people hurry past below. It was a cold, damp night in October 1930, perfect for mystery and malfeasance.

This weather suited Lucien’s mood. He took another drag on his pipe and reviewed the case file open on his desk—a case of blackmail, threats, and missing money. Somewhere in the gloom, a jazz saxophone wailed a lonely tune. Lucien tapped his foot, thinking of his client, Madame Renard, who would arrive any minute pleading for help.

Madame Renard belonged to Parisian high society, the glittering world of champagne, dancing, and jazz. But behind the gilded façade lay secrets, deception, even danger. Lucien knew. He saw what respectable people wanted to hide behind their fashionable clothing and polite smiles.

In his line of work, Lucien encountered all types: cheating spouses, corrupt businessmen, art thieves, and con artists galore. But this case left Lucien unsettled. The cryptic notes, violent warnings to back off. Was someone testing him?

The phone rang, jarring Lucien from his thoughts. He crossed the office in three quick strides and answered.

Lucien Dupont speaking.

Monsieur, she is early. Madame Renard is here for her seven o’clock appointment. His secretary’s tense voice matched Lucien’s own mood.

Send her in, Lucien said. He straightened his tie, smoothed his wavy black hair, and adjusted his vest, preparing to meet the society woman who had secured his investigative services at a handsome price. When money and secrets intersected, things often ended messily.

The door opened. His secretary, Nicole, ushered in a tall, beautiful woman in an elegant black dress with matching hat and gloves. Lucien caught a hint of her floral perfume as she entered. Her azure eyes met his, gleaming with intensity. She clutched a beaded handbag under one arm.

Madame Renard, please come in, Lucien said in a low voice. He took her gloved hand and gestured to a leather chair across from his desk. May I offer you some cognac?

She shook her head slightly and perched on the edge of the seat. He noticed she was trembling. From the cold? Or fear? He retook his own chair and opened the case file, flipping through notes from earlier interviews concerning her case.

Tell me what has happened since we last spoke, he said, giving her his full attention. The saxophone played on faintly in the background.

Madame Renard removed one sleek glove and reached into her handbag, withdrawing a sealed envelope. Lucien recognized the stationary. His jaw tightened as she handed it over.

I received this earlier today, she said. Along with a dead canary in my dressing room.

Lucien scanned the letter and set it atop the open case file. The message was short but chilling: A pretty bird who sings too loudly often meets an untimely end.

His pulse quickened but he kept his expression neutral. This case had taken an ominous, potentially deadly turn. Powerful people wanted Madame Renard silenced. Permanently.

It seems our adversary is through making threats, Lucien said. And is now taking lethal action.

She shuddered at his words but lifted her chin bravely. Lucien felt a stir of admiration for this woman who refused to back down when confronting evil forces, whatever secrets she harbored. There was steel beneath the graceful exterior.

The clock ticked as the saxophone’s lonely tune filled the tense silence. Finally, Lucien stood and went to gaze out the rain-streaked window into the dim Parisian night, considering their next move. Footsteps, tires swishing on wet pavement, distant laughter floated up. Life went on as darkness gathered.

Whoever is behind this is now utterly ruthless, Lucien said over his shoulder. I shall redouble efforts to uncover the truth and identify those threatening you.

He turned to face Madame Renard. Shadows accentuated the angles of his face, making him appear cunning, mysterious—a man at home in the night.

But you must fully reveal what you know—all players embroiled in this nasty affair, every detail of their transgressions, he pressed. No more secrets, no matter how scandalous. A life hangs in the balance.

Her eyes flashed. My own.

With a terse nod, Lucien went back to his seat. Yes, Madame. Your existence." 

Madame Renard sat very straight, gathering courage. At last, she began unraveling a salacious tale of greed, lust and ambition run amok among Paris’s upper crust.

Lucien listened intently, mentally sorting characters, mapping relationships, deducing significance as she talked. The case was even more twisted than he had believed; an ethical cesspool hidden behind glamour and old money. Feuds, betrayals, dangerous liaisons. And talk of a mysterious red leather ledger packed with incriminating details about prominent people. Its whereabouts unknown since its owner was found floating beneath a bridge two days ago...

As Madame Renard’s shocking story intensified, the saxophone’s song grew more plaintive. Through his dim office windows, the faint gaiety of Paris by night seemed far removed from deceitful doings and violent acts unfolding in shadows. 

Black eyes bright, Lucien leaned forward. Tell me everything, don't hold anything back. There's not much time left.

Chapter 1

The Mysterious Fire

Flames engulfed the interior of Chez Rouge, hottest jazz club in Paris. Patrons stampeded for exits while staff raced to fight the raging fire. Within minutes, fire brigade sirens wailed through the fashionable Saint-Germain district. Billows of black smoke poured out the club’s blown-out windows and its red door as the entire building became an inferno. 

Lucien Dupont was just finishing a late supper at Café de Flore a few blocks away when he glimpsed the ominous glow in the sky. He tossed some francs on the table and grabbed his coat and hat, exiting into the unseasonably warm April night.

As he approached Chez Rouge he slowed, stunned. Only an hour before he had shared drinks with the owner, Marcel LeRouge, in the packed, vibrant club. Now shrieking fire engines and ambulances lined the narrow street. Water hoses blasted through broken glass amid flames snapping as high as second-story windows. The red façade above the blackened doorway crackled and buckled as firemen shouted orders, aiming their hoses at the heart of the inferno.

Lucien stood helplessly watching firemen drag charred corpses from the wreckage—black ashy lumps that were recently living, breathing humans filled with mirth. Even police who had seen it all blanched as sheeted stretchers loaded with bodies were gingerly placed in ambulances. 

Scanning the features of surprised survivors, the notorious detective startled cops. Marcel, no. Lucien, fearing the worst, turned around and searched for clues in a dark lane next to the destroyed structure. Had Marcel managed to get away? Was he still imprisoned inside? Surely the obstinate old fox was still alive? 

Suddenly a violent fit of coughing erupted nearby.