Gerald W. Darnell

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'The Concrete Jungle' is offered in all ebook formats and in paperback at your favorite bookstore or online.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XZ0TANK


   Jack Sloan, an ex-Miami cop turned Private detective, is in serious trouble. Down his luck with a gambling addiction that threatens to shred the new leaf he's turned over, his debts to drug dealers are about to get him the beating of his life, or worse.  Life in the concrete jungle isn't easy, and Jack contemplates taking drastic action until a knock on his door makes all his troubles disappear. He suddenly has a new client with a simple problem and loads of money to resolve it - or that's how it seems.

   As the nightmare escalates, Jack Sloan finds trouble around every corner of Miami and South Beach. Too late he discovers his client's lies have dug a very deep hole, a hole deep enough to bury them both, and there's only one way out.

   Someone has to die.

   Bobby had only run a couple hundred yards when he spotted it. The evening seagulls were gathering at something resting in the sand - resting at the edge of the water and retreating tide. They were circling, diving and extremely thrilled at whatever the ocean had provided - picking and pecking at each other amid their loud squawks. Bobby ran quickly up to see what had them so excited. He wished he hadn't.
   Sticking from the sand, and just recently exposed by the outgoing tide was a man - or part of a man. It was his head that attracted and excited the gulls. But, the movements of the ocean waves had caused the partial exposure of his shoulders - with the rest of the body apparently still buried underneath.  His wide-open eyes had been partially eaten by the gulls, but what remained was blankly staring up at the heavens; somehow Bobby could sense the fear that had crossed them in their final moments. His mouth was wide open and completely full of sand, as if he had tried to scream but nothing happened. Moving back and forth with the surf, gray tape was still loosely clinging to one cheek; perhaps used to seal his mouth until the sea and sand did their work.
   This man had been buried at low tide, with only his head remaining above the sand Then, he was left to ponder his fate and wait on the inevitable.
The quick moving tide did its work, and conveniently covered the crime - until Bobby's unfortunate discovery.


Now Available!



The Concrete Jungle

a Jack Sloan Mystery

written by

Gerald W. Darnell