The Silent Whispers: Sam Mercer P.I. Investigations, #3

By R.E. Knight

The Silent Whispers (Book 3 in the Series)

In the dark underbelly of the city, whispers of a terrifying new threat emerge. Detective Sam Mercer thought he had seen it all, but when a series of inexplicable, silent deaths begins to plague the West End, he finds himself drawn into a conspiracy that reaches into the shadows of his own past. Victims are found dead in their homes, their faces frozen in terror, with no signs of struggle and no sounds recorded. It's as if the very air around them conspired to kill.

The Silent Whispers (Book 3 in the Series)

In the dark underbelly of the city, whispers of a terrifying new threat emerge. Detective Sam Mercer thought he had seen it all, but when a series of inexplicable, silent deaths begins to plague the West End, he finds himself drawn into a conspiracy that reaches into the shadows of his own past.

 

Teaming up once again with the determined Evelyn Blackwood, Mercer delves into the sinister world of WhisperNet—a long-abandoned government project designed to weaponize sound. As they uncover the dark secrets of the project, they realize that its deadly technology has been revived by a shadowy figure known only as "The Whisperer." With the lives of countless innocents at stake, Mercer and Blackwood must navigate a web of deception, betrayal, and murder to stop The Whisperer's plan.

 

Their investigation takes them from the grimy streets of the city to the hidden labs of brilliant but twisted scientists, and finally to a remote, fortified estate where the mastermind behind WhisperNet is pulling all the strings. Along the way, they confront old allies, new enemies, and a conspiracy that threatens to engulf the entire nation in a silent reign of terror.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.E. Knight
• Release date: May 19, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224990221

Book preview

Chapter 1: A Deadly Silence

The city was a symphony of noise, from the constant hum of traffic to the distant wail of sirens. It was a cacophony that masked a thousand secrets, and I had made it my business to uncover them. Tonight, however, the usual clamor seemed muted, as if the city itself was holding its breath.

I sat in my office, nursing a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. The neon sign outside my window flickered intermittently, casting a sickly green glow across the room. My desk was cluttered with case files, but one in particular had my full attention. It was an odd case—no signs of foul play, no evidence of any kind, yet people were turning up dead in their homes, their faces contorted in terror.

The first victim was a middle-aged man named Thomas Price. He was found in his apartment, sitting in his favorite armchair. His eyes were wide open, staring at something only he could see. The autopsy revealed no signs of struggle or injury; it was as if he had simply died of fright. His neighbors reported hearing nothing unusual, no cries for help, not even a whisper.

Since then, there had been five more victims, each found in the same condition: dead, with an expression of abject horror, and no sound or struggle to indicate what had happened. The police were stumped, and that’s where I came in.

I was reviewing the details of the latest victim, a young woman named Sarah Johnson, when the phone rang. It was Evelyn Blackwood, my partner in crime-solving and, lately, my confidante.

Sam, you need to see this, she said, her voice tense.

Where are you? I asked, already grabbing my coat.

I’m at Sarah Johnson’s apartment, she replied. You won’t believe this.

I’m on my way, I said, hanging up and heading out the door.

The night air was cool and damp, the remnants of a recent rainstorm lingering in the air. I drove through the city streets, the lights blurring past as I made my way to the West End. Sarah Johnson’s apartment was in a quiet, unassuming building, the kind where people kept to themselves and didn’t ask too many questions.

I found Evelyn waiting for me outside. Her face was pale, and her eyes held a look of unease that I had rarely seen.

Evelyn, what’s going on? I asked, stepping out of the car.

Come inside, she said, leading the way.

The apartment was modest but well-kept. The police had already been through, but the scene was still eerily undisturbed. Sarah’s body had been removed, but