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In 1978, Margaret Thode, a high school senior from Rock Island, Illinois, was murdered. The act was vicious, personal, and vile. Her murder was never solved.
The crime haunted her girlfriend, Agatha Pruitt, who went on to become a research librarian at the University of Iowa. Agatha, now newly retired and back in Rock Island, re-opens the murder case long abandoned by the police. She herself meets an untimely demise shortly thereafter.
Agatha’s brother calls upon Bertrand McAbee to undertake a private investigation into his sister’s murder. Reluctantly, the aging McAbee consents. Once again, McAbee needs to rely on his longtime loosely connected comrades to assist his agency, ACJ, in bringing a killer to justice.
McAbee finds the thread that links the two murders and concludes that the murderer of both women is still at large, rattled by Agatha’s inquiries. As McAbee’s attention shifts to the 1978 cold case, among many obstacles he must deal with is the chief homicide investigator of Rock Island who detests McAbee for his relationship with Augusta Satin, his pillar of strength, confidant, and more at ACJ.
Leads are few, as McAbee must deal with an assortment of characters to gain a foothold. After many dead ends, he finally catches a break. But it puts him up against a professional killer mentored and protected by one of the world’s greatest powers.

Sujets

Suspenso

Detective

Mystery

Crime

Suspense

Fiction

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Publié par	AuthorHouse
Date de parution	22 décembre 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781665578721
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

A CASE OF CLOSURE

A Bertrand McAbee Mystery

Joseph A. McCaffrey

AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 833-262-8899

© 2022 Joseph A. McCaffrey. All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/22/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7871-4 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6655-7872-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022923540

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
List of Books by Author
Reviews of Earlier Mcabee Mysteries
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Afterword
LIST OF BOOKS BY AUTHOR
OTHER McABEE MYSTE RIES
Cassies R uler
Confessional Mat ters
The Pony Circus W agon
Scholarly Execut ions
Phantom Exp ress
The Trou bler
The Marksman’s Case
A Byzantine Case
A Case of Si lver
A Went Over Case
The Demosthenes Club
The Case of the Bear
All of the above titles are also available in audiobooks; The Case of the Bear is pending. Please refer to Audible.com.
REVIEWS OF EARLIER MCABEE MYSTERIES
Cassies R uler
If you love mysteries, you have plenty here to keep you glued to your book until it unravels at the end. While a violent account, it reflects the subject at hand and makes for a good read.
- Illinois Standardbred
Confessional Mat ters
The good guys and bad guys in the religious hierarchy and other disciplines are wonderfully characterized, and the action seems very much like what you read in the newspapers nowadays.
- The Leader
The Pony Circus W agon
The pre-WWI historical background and international intrigue distinguish this gripping and at times addictive mystery from the standard whodunits.
- Kirkus Reviews
Scholarly Execut ions
The author hits the ground running with a resolute mystery. An intelligent, intuitive detective who steers clear of guns in favor of a team of talented cohorts.
- Kirkus Reviews
The Marksman’s Case
Classy ex-classics professor Bertrand McAbee and his multicultural mystery-solving posse go the distance with a former military sniper turned vigilante. An entertaining mystery, although not for the gun-shy.
- Kirkus Reviews
A Byzantine Case
McCaffrey’s mystery thrills with well-drawn characters, solid procedural details and strong storytelling. Historical intrigue and well-narrated suspense make this adventure an absorbing mystery.
- Kirkus Reviews
A Went Over Case
In this thriller, a dying man hires private investigator Bertrand McAbee to find the whereabouts of his brother, missing for nearly 30 years. In his 10 th outing, a steadfast gumshoe proves he can handle anything…
- Kirkus Reviews
DEDICATION
For Rosemary Ocar the Mayor of Brookwood
CHAPTER 1

“Dr. Richard Pruitt?” The female police officer from Davenport asked, a little too gently for his tastes. He noticed that her partner, not much older than the students he taught at St. Anselm, stayed quiet and behind her.
Pruitt responded, “Yes. Something wrong officer?”
“I’m a patrol officer with the Davenport P.D. My name is Linda Carney, and this is Walt Protsky my partner.” Protsky tipped his hat. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Sure. Come to my office.” He led the pair up to the third floor where his office was located. They weaved around four corridors of the building named Anselm Hall. Pruitt was unnerved but he tried to conceal it. He figured the pair had some bad news. Linda Carney had a tougher look about her, short hair with a ribbon of white over her right ear, enlarged brown eyes, and lips that when shut were zippered shut. Late 20s maybe. Both of them paced side by side with him. Along the way he saw two colleagues from the Education Department. They looked askew at the three of them, as though he was being arrested. They then averted their eyes, offended by the sight. He imagined the faculty rumor mill would be set afire shortly.
Anselm Hall was a long red building of four floors. It was the foundation structure of the college. The original part was built sometime in the 1880s, from then it underwent several additions. From the outside the red-bricked structure looked straight. However, walking inside of it one found that there was a small unevenness from one to another of the additions. Pruitt’s office was on the far west side. He frequently felt that he was descending as he approached his office on the third floor.
He pointed to two seats to the side of his desk. He imagined that the disarray of the office probably offended the two cops. What did you expect from him after 43 years in the same office? Neatness? “So. I am Dr. Pruitt. How can I help you?”
Linda Carney, clearly in charge, said, “We have come with some questions and some news. Please bear with me.” He nodded. “Do you have a sister?”
“Two. One is in Denver in a convalescent home. The other lives in Rock Island. Agatha. Why do you ask?”
“Can you give me Agatha’s address?”
“2615 12 th Street,” he said, now with fear and alarm in his voice.
“Your sister’s body was found in the house today by the Rock Island Police Department. We are here on their behalf. I’m very sorry. Her identity was confirmed by a neighbor.’”
Richard Pruitt looked at the pair of them in disbelief. He said, “She had just moved there a few months ago. She wanted to be in that neighborhood in case she needed assisted care. There is a huge convalescent center a few blocks away. I can’t believe this. How? She was in fair health,” his voice somber and wandering, trance-like.
Linda Carney said, “The house is unfortunately a crime scene I can’t say anything more. The Rock Island P.D. wishes you to come over there directly. If you are unable to drive, we would be more than pleased to drive you over there. But there is an urgency for your presence.”
“I’ll go right now unescorted. A crime scene? What does that mean exactly?”
“Sir. We were not given any particulars, just the barest of information. That Department has become overwhelmed by Covid. We are doing this as a professional courtesy. I’m very sorry about this.” With that said they left.
Richard Pruitt, 72 years old, got up from his chair. Feeling faint he sat down again. There was no sense calling his sister in Denver. She was in full-blown dementia. There was no other immediate family. He felt terribly alone. Finally, he arose and headed to the faculty parking lot.
Linda Carney got into her squad car and dialed Hugh Concannon the lead detective in Rock Island. She had been warned by the Davenport Desk Sergeant to be careful when dealing with Concannon. The word on him was that he was a mean-spirited son of a bitch. “Don’t chat with him. When you’ve told Pruitt and you’re sure he’ll get over there tell him that and just hang up.” Accordingly, she did just that and when about to disconnect he yelled “Well where the fuck is the bastard? That all you can tell me?”
“Yes sir. He’ll be there directly.” She disconnected. “Enough of that crap,” she said to her silent neophyte partner.
Concannon looked out through the kitchen window. He saw the white Prius pull up along side of the curb. Besides his unmarked Ford there were two black and white squad cars in the driveway leading up to the unattached single car garage. He observed a white haired man, aged looking. He was too heavy for his own good. His shoulders were slouched, he had thick glasses and appeared to be in some sort of fog. A dumb, absent-minded professor geek of some sort. In Concannon’s mind there were slots that held different kinds of people. It was important to drop everyone into one of them. Pruitt was an easy match. He went to the front door and opened it. Pruitt entered hurriedly. “Detective Concannon, Rock Island P.D. This is your sister’s residence?” Pruitt thought that Concannon was trying to yell at someone in Chicago, 170 miles to the east. “Come in and sit down here in the living room. Your sister’s body, murder victim, is in her bedroom. I’ll want you to I.D. it in a few minutes. Where were you last night? About midnight to 3:00 a.m.?”
“What?” Pr