Today I’m delighted to join the blog tour for Hidden Steel, book two in the John Steel series from Stuart Field. I have an extract from the book to share with you all. My thanks to Emma Welton of damppebbles tours for inviting me to join in. Here’s what the book is all about:
About the Book
In the UK, Detective John Steel is investigating the organization who killed his family. When he comes across information that something big is going to happen on the cruise ship Neptune, Steel goes undercover. He has fourteen days to figure out what is going to happen – and to stop it.Available from: Amazon
In New York, Steel’s NYPD partner, Detective Samantha McCall, is investigating a series of deaths. All seems run of the mill for the homicide detective until they find out that the deaths are somehow connected to the cruise ship John Steel is on.
McCall is convinced there is a mole in the department, but can she figure out who he is – and who he’s working for? Meanwhile, Steel is running out of options… and the clock is ticking.
From the Book
McCall and Thompson returned to the station to find that Tooms and Tony had already set up their own murder boards for their first victim – John Barr. The man had been a dockworker, a crane driver until his apparent accident a couple of days ago. The file had crossed to Homicide just in case something was off. McCall stood in front of the board; her hands rested on her hips as she took in the details.
“So, what you got?” her eyes never left the board as Tooms ran through the information on his notepad.
“John Barr aged forty-three, ex-wife Helen now lives in Queens with their two boys John Jr. and Sam.” McCall nodded as she took in the information.
“So, what happened to Mr Barr?” her voice calm, her words slow and distant, as though she had a million other things on her mind.
“Well poor Mr Barr took a tumble at work,” McCall shrugged, Tony spoke as though it should have meant something.
“So, people trip every day.” Her words sounded tired. Tony placed a picture, on the board, of a large pool of blood and what used to be a man.
“Yes, unfortunately, he was a crane operator at the docks,” everyone moved in for a closer look, as morbid curiosity took hold of them.
“The poor SOB, came out of the cab under the unit, tripped or something and fell,” Tooms said, moving his hand in a downward curve. McCall had that bad feeling thing again.
“Ok, interview the family, check financials.” She said, looking over to Jenny, who was getting their murder board ready.
“You mean the usual things?” Tooms joked, he could see that McCall was a million miles away and she hoped it was not about Steel. “Are you ok?” he asked in a concerned tone. McCall nodded and came back down to earth with a smile.
“Yes – yes. I’m fine. It’s just all this after the last case just seems….” Tooms smiled.
“Mundane, yeh I guess it does a little, but hey be careful what you wish for,” he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Anyway,” Tony butted in. “We already did some digging on our skydiver and it appears he had a bit of money trouble,” McCall’s eyes widened.
“Apparently after his divorce, he was up to his neck in debt, until he borrowed some money,” Tony took a picture from the file and placed a colour photograph on the section marked SUSPECTS.
The man was in his late forties, his black hair greased back over his pointy-head. His face was long with a long thin nose that protruded from his pale face. The man’s top lip was thin with large two front teeth that seemed too large for his closed mouth. His eyes were dark, as though there were no eyes in the sockets.
McCall’s jaw dropped, and her gaze went from the picture to Tony.
“He looks just like a ….”
“Wessel, yes I thought that as well. Freaky, isn’t it?” Tooms laughed. McCall nodded, her mouth tightened so as not to laugh.
“Meet Joshua Newton, aka, the rat,” Tony said, pointing at the photograph. Now McCall was struggling to keep it in. She turned away from the photograph and composed herself.
“Ok bring him in, let’s find out what he knows.” Her gaze fell to the empty chair next to her desk. Jenny looked back with pride at her layout on the glossy whiteboard. McCall joined her and looked once more at the crime scene photos; her eyes met with the close-up of the victim. His eyes were wide open, as well as his mouth. Almost as if, he was calling out. He lay on his back with his arms outstretched as if trying to grab hold of something to prevent the fall. McCall could not get the look out of her head, the look of pain.
The other photographs were taken from different angles, but all centred on to one point – the victim. His body lay next to a self-supporting stepladder, which lay on its side, from the ceiling, two cables stretched down, almost as if they had been yanked down with force.
McCall’s concentration was broken as Jenny brought her a fresh coffee; she thanked her as she took the mug. The smell of the coffee was intense.
“What the hell is this?” She barked putting the cup down.
“We ran out of the other stuff and Steel forgot to mention where the coffee came from,” Jenny said, with a shrug and an apologetic look. McCall shrugged and took a sip, hell it was coffee and she needed it.
“ME’s report said it was “Death by electrocution,” McCall read from a file as Jenny sat on the edge of the desk next to McCall.
“What are you thinking?” Jenny asked, suddenly, noticing the familiar look on McCall’s face when something did not add up.
“Did CSU dust for prints?” McCall asked, a tone of suspicion hung in her voice. Jenny picked up another beige coloured file and flicked through the notes.
“Yes, a couple of partials, but those belonged to the manager, why?” McCall frowned at the reply.
“We need to see the crime scene; has it been opened yet?” Thompson shook her head.
“No, it’s still locked down.” McCall smiled “Come on, we got some hunting to do.”
Want to read more? Check out the handy purchase links at the top of the post and happy reading.
About the Author
Stuart Field was born in the UK, in the West Midlands. He spent his early years in the army, seeing service in all the known (and some unknown) hotspots around the world. He now lives in Germany with his wife Ani. When not engaged in highly confidential security work, he writes thrillers which perhaps mimic his life-experience more than the reader would like to believe.
Follow the tour: