Concierge Of Crime Novels & Stories

“Almost, but I’m told I’d waste my time finishing since you’re about to wrap it all up.” “Oh please. I could wrap it up. The prosecutor is inclined to proceed, yet I prefer your assessment before I give it to her. I’d feel better knowing we haven’t missed anything you might catch.” That is not our current focus. But you’re saying you’re aware of my wife’s business?” “Conner, your wife made a splash into the international policing community about three years ago. She’s nicknamed Miss Holmes or the Electronic Bloodhound.” “Oh, please, I know they don’t refer to me as bloodhound. What he means to say is they call me the Electronic Bitch. Those guys hate it when Ana sends anything from us. Resen

She was in for a long day as well. They were wrapping up on a big case today. A man had murdered his wife, and all they needed was his confession. They had the proof, but the guy’s confession would nail him in court. Elizabeth was good at getting suspects to confess, but this guy was a real piece of work. Classic narcissist with terrible misogyny. He was going to be tough to crack, but she knew her presence alone would rile him up. Hopefully enough for a confession.

"Wow, freakin' Frankie showed. Can you believe that? I can't believe he'd show his ass here tonight." "Who?" Crispin moves close, his body stiff. "The guy we think is running shit up and down the coastline. He says his gang is on the up and up, but it's not like many criminals walk into the police station and turn themselves in after a crime. Everyone is innocent until you find them elbow deep in a pile of coke. Even then most of them would tell you they thought it was flour." Finally, my eyes track the man they're discussing. His dark hair is gelled back like a mobster. It makes me think of him as a drug runner trying to relive the good old days. Whatever time period mobsters consider bette

Weary of my environment, I walk around the vast room, wondering if this is a suite. I checked every nook and cranny, afraid I had just been jilted. True, it was great sex, but getting jilted doesn't feel good. I walk hastily toward the door, only to run into the concierge, who had tended to me the previous night. "I hope you had a refreshing sleep?" she asks me, scanning me carefully from head to toe as if waiting for me to make a single mistake. "Yeah, thanks; Uhm, where is he?"

No. The department must be trusted. And the agency should send reliable people to work there. He closed all the windows with his mouse. - All open... you are a detective and you leave evidence like this? Maybe I do need a break. Without realizing it, he missed the slip of a criminal.

Peeking over the top, she saw him. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream. Her hand automatically came up to cover her gaping mouth. The regular concierge, an older man named Oscar, was laying flat on his back, eyes open in a sightless stare. There was a hole in his forehead, with burn marks around it where someone had shot him point blank. Claudia backed away, gasping for Daniel. Her shocked gaze met his, pleading for help, as he stepped into the lobby. His usual stoic expression turned to concern at her white face and glassy eyes. His sharp eyes swept the lobby.

Sitting behind the mahogany table in the interrogation room was Damien who was drumming his fingers against the wood as he racked his brain, hoping to come up with a picture of the orchestrator of the attack. Recently, he had no beef whatsoever with anyone, this made his thinking more tedious and when he couldn't handle it anymore, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey on his table and then began to drink directly from it. “Sir.” Armani called when he arrived with the limping man.

Anna's POV I entered the club, the usual chaos muted by the early hour, the atmosphere quieter but still filled with people. One of the bouncers noticed me immediately, his heavy steps bringing him closer. “You shouldn’t be out in the open like this, ma’am. It’s dangerous. Where are your escorts?” His tone was firm but respectful. “I don’t need an escort,” I snapped, my nerves fraying. “Where’s Bonnie?” He hesitated for a moment, then answered, “She’s in a meeting with the strippers. This way, ma’am. You can wait for her in the VIP section.”

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” After a while, I caught my breath and started to feel better. I strengthened myself. “You must be my husband’s concierge.” “Yes,” he nodded confidently and smiled warmly, almost like he was a robot programmed to do nothing but observe and smile. “You must be Bianca Sinclair, my boss’s new wife.” He reached out and offered a handshake. With a forced smile, I gripped his hand, feeling the smooth texture of the leather gloves graze my palm. “It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to this place, ma’am. I’m Gideon, the concierge for this penthouse. I oversee the affairs of the penthouse. I’m here to assist you in any way possible,” he said with a slight bow.

He was busy on a call, taking an update to Zion. “His phone is unreachable, ma’am. I’ll have his phone traced right away.” Panic settled in my heart now and I repented for holding a grudge against him when he was so disturbed. I tried his number too, but it was still unreachable. “What’s this all about? Who’s threatening us?” I asked although I knew the answer. “Delia Kaya and the Kayakos Crime family are after Mr. Concorde. We have sought help from Interpol’s NCB to nab the culprits. Please cooperate with us.”