Concierge Of Crime Novels & Stories

Because that meant I was slipping under his defenses which, in my opinion, boded well for our future together, I watched him end the call with his brother before I asked, “What’s Caro doing now?” “You heard that much, huh?” he questioned sheepishly, rubbing a hand over his chin as he eyed me up like I was his ma’s apple crumble. I’d eaten that today, so I knew it was the bomb. “I did.” “We have to pay her a visit in the morning. Conor was just setting it up.” “How come?” I arched a brow. “Didn’t realize FBI agents were on speed dial for mobsters nowadays.” “Now, now,” he chided, lips twitching. “You know we prefer to be called businessmen.”

His hands were flat on the table, his knuckles white. "Then it's over. Bianca is going to prison. Vincent is going to prison. The people who killed Marco are going to answer for what they did." The Director was quiet for a moment. Her eyes moved to the man beside her, the man Alex didn't recognize. "This is Special Agent Connelly," she said. "He's the head of the Organized Crime Division. He's been following your case for months." Connelly leaned forward. His voice was low, measured.

adjusting his blue tie he moves forward again “ My son is not safe due to my doing and I’ve noticed that he is being followed by some people lately,” “Why don’t you inform the cops?” she questions not understanding the situation “Will you mind to elaborate?” she suggests pulling the glass of Americano close to her. “To be honest I’ve researched your background,” she raises her brows at him as he declared, staying quiet she pays her attention to him “I know your father, he is my client,” “Client?” she repeats curling her brows curiously “What do you mean?”

“It's similar but not exact. It's off, like someone copying a dead man's voice.” That was Connel's thought too. They walked in silence through the back streets of the city, towards a safehouse once used by the Kharon Circle - an elite syndicate of information brokers, Connel had dismantled years ago. If he was alive, this would be his den. Then Nico broke it. "Connel... maybe you shouldn't be here.” Connel gave Nico a stare. “Excuse me?” “This whole thing - it's got teeth. This city, this setup. It's not just a call - back. It's a trap.”

“It was Connors. He must have hi-jacked the plane. I’ll have to ask Bronx when he’s up to it.” “Where’s Connors now?” “Bloody pulp on the floor of a dungeon. Henri’s got some guys on the local police force. He’s having them scrape Connors off the ground and taking the body to the human morgue as a John Doe.” “So he went full Bronx on him?” Reggie asks. “Yeah. How is everyone there?” “Umm… there’s a problem here, Bro.” Reggie sounds tentative. “Problem?” I sit up tall. Ghost stand at attention in my mind. “Why didn’t you start with that? What’s wrong?”

“Connor was seen today with Rick Bosnan’s assistant, who handles his legitimate businesses.” “What is your reasoning for Connor choosing to meet his assistant at a cafe? He knew I would eventually find out about this meeting,” Anton said as he lifted his gaze from the photographs. The informer was struck with a realization. “He let you catch him!” Anton threw the phone toward him. “Obviously!” “But we can’t deny that since Mrs. Genovese tried to sell his daughter to the brothel, Connor’s behavior has become increasingly strange. I’m sure you’ve noticed it, Boss. He seems disturbed after the incident.”

"I can see that. A certain dark-haired jealous man that just ran out of here." I groaned and strolled past him into my office. "Let's not talk about that. Why are you here, Conor? We can skip all of the formalities." I closed the door when he stepped inside and threw the lock this time since he hadn't done it before. "Have a seat." Conor sat down again and nodded. "Just like you I've had a couple of breakins lately at my places of business. Things have been coming up missing, fires were started, it's becoming a pain in my ass. I thought maybe it had something to do with your problem."

Here he was, sitting down with a man who was about to explain to him how to commit a white-collar crime. Mr. Jarcone followed Geo into his office with a briefcase in his left hand. The large mahogany door closed quietly behind them. Geo watched as Mr. Jarcone took in his luxurious office. Mr. Jarcone stood several feet from the door, awaiting his instructions. “Please, sit anywhere you like. Would you care for a drink?” Geo offered. “No sir. I never drink on the job. ‘Sides if Mr.Monzoon finds out …” he trailed off. He didn’t have to finish. Geo already knew what he was going to say before he uttered it.

He usually lingered around high-end neighborhoods and clubs, targeting women involved in "fringe work." Taking advantage of their not daring to seek legal protection, he often intimidated or enticed them or sometimes drugged them before acting. Over two years, he had committed several crimes, but no victim had come forward to identify him, allowing his brazen behavior. Hearing this, Sandy laughed and teased Emily, "You're quite the undercover agent." Emily raised an eyebrow, "Might consider it." After all, serving justice is a noble deed! Their conversation then shifted to Boyce Holt, the official who approved Devin Cromwell's project at Dock No. 9.

And he did not like this kind of disturbance. “What the hell is going on? This shit better be good, or you bear the consequences!” Alex threatened the poor concierge who called him this morning. He rose from the bed naked and found his boxer and his used shirt from last night. “I am deeply sorry to disturb you at this hour, Mr. Browning. But there is an urgent matter that you need to address quickly.” The poor concierge stuttered when Alex growled at him. “What is it?” Alexander barked. “There is Mr. Browning Senior here, waiting as we speak right now,” replied the concierge nervously.