Murder On Fifth Avenue

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Frank hated answering stupid questions from goo-goos when he was in the middle of an investigation. He looked up from interviewing one of the employees of the warehouse that had been robbed last night. This brand-new police officer didn’t even look old enough to shave. “What?”

“I have a message for you from the chief.” The way he was puffing, he must’ve run all the way from Police Headquarters to deliver it.

“Which chief?”

“Chief O’Brien.”

Frank straightened. He didn’t dare ignore a message from the chief of detectives. The young man held out a piece of paper, and Frank snatched it from him. Unfolding it, he read the message. Felix Decker requests your presence at the Knickerbocker Club immediately. O’Brien had given the address and signed it.

Frank swore. Felix Decker might not be the richest, most powerful man in the city, but he was rich and powerful enough, and he knew all the men who were richer and more powerful than he was. He also knew the chief of detectives, the chief of police, and the mayor. Most of all, he knew Frank. And Frank knew Felix Decker’s daughter, Sarah Brandt, which was the real reason Decker knew Frank would jump when Decker called.

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