Past Due (Victor Carl Series)
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It means something to be a client. It means he gets my loyalty, whether he deserves it or not. It means he gets my absolute best for the price of an hourly fee. It means in a world where every person has turned against him there is one person who will fight by his side for as long as there is a battle to be fought.
Author of the acclaimed novels Fatal Flaw, Bitter Truth, and Hostile Witness, bestselling writer William Lashner crafts dark, witty, engrossing tales of suspense involving one of the most intriguing characters of modern popular fiction: Victor Carl.
A defense attorney who lives his life in shades of gray, Victor Carl fights all the right fights for all the wrong reasons. With a failing legal practice, a dead-end love life, a pile of unpaid traffic tickets, and a talent for mixing it up in tough working-class bars and sparring with obstinate cops, Victor skates on the razor's edge of legal ethics in search of the easy buck. But the one absolute in Victor's life is loyalty, especially to a client—even if he happens to be dead. Like Joey Cheaps, a no-account who takes a knife to the throat down on the waterfront, but not before he shares with his lawyer his part in a terrible crime.
With his client murdered, Victor must search for a killer. But solving the crime means investigating the darkest spot in Joey Cheaps's misspent youth, sending Victor on a twisting journey that leads to a missing suitcase stuffed with money, photographs of a mysterious naked woman, and a Supreme Court justice with a secret to hide. And most dangerous of all, Victor steps into the crosshairs of a vengeful enemy with a past full of pain and a taste for blood.
As thrilling as it is darkly evocative, Past Due is a superb tale of crime and justice that takes the intrepid Victor Carl into brilliant new territory and confirms William Lashner's place among the top suspense writers of our time.
legal and illegal, in Lonnie’s shop feeding the ferocity of the fire. It was Lonnie who had supplied meth to the gang twenty years ago, Lonnie with the wild burning eyes, and I supposed he had gotten back into the business. Coughing all the while, I told a fire captain everything of what I had seen inside and he told me I should tell it to the fire investigators. I told the fire investigators everything of what I had seen inside and they told me to tell it again to the uniformed police. I told
shrugged and took another one. Three bikes. All loaded up, we replaced the chain and were gone. Done. Except Tommy wanted to test the merchandise. “We filled up a gas can at a station and drove out to D.W. Field Park, by Cocksucker Cove—named for obvious reasons—and took out two of the bikes. When we kicked them up, God, they were screaming. I showed him how they worked, this is the gearshift, the clutch, the gas, the break. He was still trying to figure it all out when I stomped into first and
the money. And that doesn’t seem to be you, does it? You’re looking for something else.” “All I wanted was to get back what I lost.” “What was that?” said Straczynski. “Everything you took away from me.” Tommy lunged, but meekly now, the lunge of a man too tired to really try. Straczynski parried with a flick of his wrist. “You were going to jail,” said the justice. “I was going to freedom, but you took it all from me. My love, my life, my money. So that’s what I was trying to get back,
grill, the girl staring forward, stiff and formal in that beast of a car, luminous, unobtainable. She was like something from a different era with her combed hair spilling behind out of a white hair band, her back straight, her pleated skirt. Things were just starting to break down then, the social mores of his own boyhood. Hair was getting longer, kids were wearing dirty jeans and sandals, some just let themselves completely go and were proud of it. It was like clothes and hair and cleanliness,
returned to my office, my expression was suitably somber, the tone of my voice was suitably businesslike. “All right, Miss Blue. We have decided to accept Jacopo’s representation.” “Oh, Victor, thank you. I am so relieved.” “Yes, I’m sure that you are. Tell your boss that I am on the case. I’ll confess judgment right away, just like the note provides, and I’ll set up an expedited deposition of Mr. Manley and I’ll have him in here within the week and I’ll ask him all I need to ask him. Tell your