90. Dan called me

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My book publishing blog, with murder mysteries woven through it.

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Dan from Writers House (the literary agency) called. “Did you hear?”

“What?”

“Fred’s agency got a submission. The manuscript gets Freddy killed.”

I paused, then went ahead and said it, “I like it.” 

“Me too,” chuckled Dan.

Freddy had crossed both of us.  He couldn’t be trusted. Publishing would be better without him.

“So, did they catch the guy?” I asked Dan, because the police were now in daily touch with the leading literary agencies and publishing houses.  “Did they follow-up on whatever mailing address or phone number was on the submission’s cover letter?”

“There was no phone number and the mailing address was an empty lot in Harlem.  Same with a manuscript over at Harper.  In which John Ferrone gets killed.  No phone number, address is same empty lot.”

“But what about—”

“And no fingerprints.”

“Damn,” I paused, “so he’s still out there.”

“Yep. But in these cases, Fred and John are still alive.  The guy’s mixing things up.  Now he’s just scaring us all.”

We were both quiet.  Thinking. 

Then Dan said, “Your annoyed police friend, Detective Rocco has a theory.”

“Which is?”
“He’s nuts.”

They can’t catch this guy.  It’s scary. 

I’m nervous, right along with the rest of the industry. 

  

Tomorrow:  Boston and a final farewell to Randy