Scott Turow Novels & Stories

She looks like a mummy—a fragment of the person she used to be. The machine hooked up to her buzzing in a low tone is the only proof she’s still alive. MEANWHILE, on George Washington Bridge. Detective Scott, accompanied by Officer Arthur, got stuck in traffic. This incident added a whole layer of annoyance to him. “This forsaken, crowded city,” he muttered under his breath. Officer Arthur laughed but didn’t comment. He snickered as he lit a cigar, “I can’t believe someone will leak our case to the press.” He added annoyance written all over his face.

POV: Rory Scott and I woke up and readied ourselves for the day. Scott wore a double-breasted suit and wingtips. He looked handsome in his suit, but he had a heavy cough he couldn’t seem to get rid of. “Are you alright?” I asked as he rolled his bags out to the car and lifted them into the trunk. I adjusted the car seat to my height and changed the angles of the mirrors as Scott settled in the passenger seat. “I’m fine,” he said, still coughing.

“Not at all. Just want to make use of the restroom. You wait here while I ease myself, then we chill out together? Corey asked and Scott agreed “Sure, sure! I'll be ri….ght here!” He stressed his statement as he sat on a chair next to Corey's table and poured in the red wine into the cup and continued to take a sip of it while he requested for another glass cup, so Corey would use it once he is out of the restroom. Scott and Corey were colleagues. They both work as FBI officers. Scott was pleased to see Corey in the same club where he came to cool off, so it would make a great sense if they chill out together. Scott, Derek and Corey were colleagues of the same FBI department.

Just quiet, hard purpose. “Scott was found this morning on the west highway,” Carson began. “His truck was forced off the road. We believe another vehicle made intentional contact there are side impact marks, tire ruts off the edge. He flipped into a ditch and was unconscious when our patrol found him. If they’d been five minutes later, he wouldn’t have made it.” My heart was in my throat. I already knew the rest. I’d seen it. “Was anyone else found?” Tyler asked.

“You want to leave Hidden Towel? That’s surprising to hear. You love this city.” “Exactly!” Scott said firmly. “I’ve been in this city so long that I guess it’s time I start over, clear my head.” Ezra looked at him with confusion. Where was this coming from? Where did he get the motivation to take life seriously? The Scott he knew was a ladies’ man. He loved attention, loved sex, and loved sleep. He loved being Scott Jones.

And then there was Scott. Scott Mancini, the Underboss of New York, sat there looking like he was personally offended by the existence of the salad in front of him. He was wearing a suit that cost a fortune, his beautiful green eyes constantly darting to the door as if he were deciding who he’d have to kill first if things went south.

I realized that everything about this case–the background, the motive–was just fed to me through the police and the witness. A perfect loop. The killer knew that once I got to the station, I would try to dismantle the story. So he built it airtight. I took every piece of information I just heard and broke it down like components in a system, reconstructing it over and over in my mind. There had to be a single point–a central node where all the details intersected. That was where the truth was hidden. I lifted my head and scanned the crowd. Then my eyes lit up. I raised my hand and pointed straight at someone. "It's him."

“He is one of the Hong Kong Triad bosses. He might be currently in custody, but that doesn't mean that his men cannot do his dirty work while he's in a prison cell.” Detective Murray pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ms. Clairmont… I will be frank with you. Mr. Scott was an investigative reporter. He had a lot of enemies. The fact that someone got to him right before you were supposed to meet doesn't prove anything. So…” He gave me a wry smile. “Thank you for now. We'll contact you if we need anything else.” I blinked. “And that's it?” The detective nodded. “Yes. We need to check all the leads. See which one is the most probable.”