Kenneth L. Levinson writes Mystery...Suspense...

A dead judge,
a missing briefcase....


A Case of Greed cover

While observing a trial that is going badly for a young colleague, Adam Larsen realizes that there is something terribly wrong with the judge's one-sided rulings. What's worse, his mere presence in the courtroom has inexplicably infuriated the judge. Ordered from the courtroom, Larsen is on his way out of the courthouse when he hears a shot. The judge, alone in his chambers, is dead.

A cryptic message, entreating Larsen to solve a murder that led to the judge's death, is discovered, but with no other information, Larsen doesn't even know where to start investigating. Nor does he want to. But when the judge's clerk is murdered, Larsen's his curiosity begins to simmer. And when he learns that the battered briefcase he'd seen in the judge's chambers has disappeared, his interest begins to boil.

He quickly finds himself drawn into a dangerous world of bribery and corruption, where there is nobody he dares to trust. Undaunted, Larsen turns to his trusted staff--and, of course, his favorite private investigator, Jana Deacon--to aid his search for the answers.

But when he thinks he has figured it all out, there are still surprises lurking in the shadows.


Caught in a web of bribery and corruption.

I heard a commotion behind us. Judge Gumauer's clerk had come charging wildly down the corridor like she was being chased by an enraged rhinoceros. She nearly collided with one of the deputies. "He's been shot!"

The sheriff said, "Who's been shot?"

"The Judge. Judge Gumauer. I think he's dead."

I told Ann, "Tell them to stay put. If they haven't seen a shooter, they're probably okay. Three armed sheriffs are on their way."

Ann relayed the message and ended the call. "What do we do?"

"What the judge ordered us to do. Get the hell out of here." I guided her by the elbow. "Let's go."

We continued walking, slow enough so as not to appear guilty of anything, since I knew we were being recorded by security cameras, but we certainly didn't dawdle. As we reached the exit, a loud siren began to wail. We passed the abandoned security equipment and exited the courthouse. As we descended the concrete steps, Ann turned to me, staring as though she had just stumbled upon some profound universal truth.

"Maurice is right. You do attract trouble like some kind of cosmic disaster magnet."

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