Follow Detective Mike Palotti of the Dallas Police Department as he searches for a serial killer striking at will and mimicking the work of infamous serial murderers from recent decades throughout the country.
Dallas Detective Mike Palotti and Tulsa Detective John Baldwin accept an invitation from independent criminal justice researcher and writer, Emily Morgan, to share information with them as they face the challenges of the Alphabet Killer.
The detectives face nearly insurmountable obstacles as the weeks and months slip away, and the killer continues to strike with impunity in their respective jurisdictions. The two men allow their personal lives to become intertwined with the investigations, leading to complications at home and in their professional roles.
In a confidential discussion with gone but not forgotten associates, and faced with the likelihood of never bringing the Alphabet Killer to justice, Detective Palotti reaches out to the netherworld of international espionage to find the means which brings Sweet Emily to a non-traditional conclusion.
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The Road to Perdition is a magnificent highway that flows through the majestic splendor of the nation: across vast prairies of the heartland; through blistering deserts; over tiny brooks and mighty rivers; through soft green swales and the rolling fields of grain; and into mountain passes where the snowcapped peaks reach to the heavens. It flows like a ribbon blowing in the wind above the cliffs where land and the deep-sea collide, and where crashing waves cascade on the rocks below.
A traveler can join it anytime of their choosing The joy and pleasure of the journey satisfies the desires of all those who seek it. But, the Road to Perdition ends in a most ignominious manner.
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Andre Ilin tilted the seat back as the Airbus climbed away from the Danish coast. The tall, angular, fiftyish Russian accepted the vodka from the flight steward, sipped it politely for a moment, and then returned to his brusque lifestyle and swallowed the remander in one gulp. He threw an icy stare at the steward, handed the glass back, and commanded, choba, choba. Loquaciousness was not his strongpoint.
The Russians, Chechens, and certainly the Americans used his deadly skills over the years, but now he was a liability: everyone wanted to put on a new face – in public at least, so the market for his talents evaporated. He enjoyed his work too much and brought undue attention to the supposed problems he solved only to create another one.
He accepted another Beluga Vodka, eyed it carefully and thoughtfully, then swirled it into a slow and methodical flow. His old life was behind him, but he will start anew. He recalled the tale from his grandmother many years ago as they suffered through a bitter Russian winter. It was a fairy tale of the father of a poor family who was reborn as a swan with golden feathers. If the family plucked only one feather at a time, they will always have enough to live on: they won’t be hungry again. Sadly, the greedy mother plucked too many feathers and the swan died – and the family died in the frigid Siberian cold.
Andre shrugged. He would never make the same mistake again. He turned his eyes back to the fading skyline of Copenhagen. The trip so far was pleasant and uneventful. The high speed Sapsan train from Moscow’s Leningradsky Station to the Mosklosky Station in St. Petersburg was covered in just over four hours. From there, a pleasant three hundred-twenty kilometer motor trip on the Lux Motor Express to Tallinn, Estonia. Then, a relaxing overnight Tallink ferry into Copenhagen.
A fresh start in America will enable him to utilize his lethal skills while enjoying the liberty and pleasure of his new home. Indeed, he looked forward to the life with its rewards of money, adventure, and most assuredly, the pleasures of the flesh.
*
Emily Morgan lay on the masseuses table at Bon Petite Salon atop the Winchester Hotel across the street from the infamous Texas School Book Depository and the equally infamous “grassy knoll.”
She enjoyed the final minutes of her day at the spa – a pedicure, facial, hair cut and color, and finally with the practiced fingers on Dominic soothing the muscles of her graceful, well tanned arms and legs. It was a day of majestic splendor. She smiled inwardly: she deserved it.
Her mind free floated. Single, thirty-five years old, financially secure, smart, maybe even brilliant, and most of all, she had a plan. Life was good but was going to become even better. She knew what she wanted and was going to do it. It began in the not too distant past in Central America and she was determined to see it through. Her newly minted future was beyond exciting. It’s possible for a women to have everything and still have more. That’s what life is all about.
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