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Someplace Else

by Eli Geller

317 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #03-0393; ISBN 1-4120-0030-0; US$26.00, C$33.00, EUR21.50, £14.90

Harold Gruner goes to a singles' bar and drinks himself into a stupor. In the morning he finds himself trapped in a murder case, and he's the prime suspect!


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about the book      about the author      catalogue info

About the Book

Harold lives with his invalid mother and feels trapped by her. After getting drunk for the first time ever he awakes in the morning to find his mother strangled. He is an immediate suspect, but he knows he is innocent. But, as the suspicion shifts to others, he becomes less certain. He confesses to a call girl he patronizes and trusts. She convinces him the killer is someone else by pointing out a detail he had not previously considered. After lulling him into a false sense of relief, she betrays him to the police. He spends a night in jail and in the morning the crime is solved with a surprise denouement.


About the Author

After working as a Civilian Administrative Assistant for the New York City Police for 15 years, Eli Geller has now retired and loves travelling and writing. He is publishing his second book, Someplace Else, after a 45-year hiatus: his last book was published in 1958. He is currently planning a trip to Israel and he greatly misses his Cuban cigars.


Excerpt

There was difficulty rationalizing the thing. If it was just a dream as I thought (hoped), then how did Lance know Kirsten was in the dream, working as a hooker? Did that dream come to me as I slumbered on the ride home instead of on my bed after I got inside? Then I might have told him about it when he woke me and before I got out of the car.

Did I?

I strained my memory. Seemed that was what I could have done.

It must have been what I did. It couldn't have been anything else.

A dream or no dream, nothing would have happened if I hadn't crossed paths with him Friday night. Friend? He was okay as a friend when we were kids, but this business with him Friday and beyond? I didn't need such a friend. I should have gotten off my stool and left for home when he stood at my shoulder Friday evening and trumpeted his presence, almost exploding my eartdrum. I'd been about ready to leave anyway.

But if Lance were right and I really did live that late night adventure, it was bad news. I was scared. Not over Kirsten whoring the night away. Who gave a shit? I didn't. My fuck-you brother was married to her, not me. But if that really happened, then it suggested something a lot more serious than what Kirsten did for a living.


Catalogue Information




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