American Quartet (Fiona Fitzgerald Series #1)

by Warren Adler

Overview

"High-class suspense." -- The New York Times on American Quartet

"A wildly kaleidoscopic look at the scandals and political life of Washington D.C." - LA Times

What hides beneath the scum of the Capital swamp?

Detective Fiona Fitzgerald is an unlikely force for justice in Washington, D.C.'s predominantly male police force. As a Senator's daughter and top investigator in the homicide division of the Metropolitan Police Department, Fiona maneuvers between two vastly different worlds, moving quickly from opulent State galas to gritty crime scenes.

Born into the elite social circles of the nation's capital, and armed with intimate knowledge of the true face of the political establishment, Fiona is determined to expose the chicanery concealed within the highest echelons of the American political aristocracy. When a string of inexplicable murders rocks the hallowed streets of central D.C., Fiona finds herself charging through the shadows of a mysterious conspiracy.

Faced with an investigation with no leads and a rising body count, Fiona's reputation as a top investigator is called into question.

AMERICAN QUARTET is the first book in acclaimed novelist Warren Adler's most popular 9-book mystery series.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781532891250
Publisher:	CreateSpace Publishing
Publication date:	05/09/2016
Series:	The Fiona Fitzgerald Mystery , #1
Pages:	378
Product dimensions:	5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.84(d)

About the Author

Warren Adler is best known for The War of the Roses, his masterpiece fictionalization of a macabre divorce turned into the Golden Globe and BAFTA nominated dark comedy hit starring Michael Douglas, Kathleen Turner and Danny DeVito. In addition to the success of the stage adaptation of his iconic novel on the perils of divorce, Adler has optioned and sold film rights to more than a dozen of his novels and short stories to Hollywood and major television networks. Random Hearts (starring Harrison Ford and Kristen Scott Thomas), The Sunset Gang (starring Jerry Stiller, Uta Hagen, Harold Gould and Doris Roberts), Private Lies, Funny Boys, Madeline's Miracles, Trans-Siberian Express and his Fiona Fitzgerald mystery series are only a few titles that have forever left Adler's mark on contemporary American authorship from page to stage to screen. Learn more about Warren Adler at www.warrenadler.com.

Read an Excerpt

THE AIR conditioner sucked in the steamy Washington air, wheezed, faltered, then regurgitated a dank iciness into the interior of the coffee shop. The establishment, as Fiona had observed countless times, had the air of a comfortable old street lady, shabby but serviceable, a touch world-weary but still aiming to please the customer. “How the hell would you know?” Teddy said, in his cop’s rasping croak. “Osmosis.” It was a game they played; one of many, a professional duet, after nearly six months as homicide partners. She watched the widening spear of sunlight illuminate the coffee slicks on the formica table. Through the smeared window, the leaves were still, and the trendy rehabilitated townhouses appeared appropriately eighteenth century in the morning light. Capitol Hill itself had the look of a sleepy village. Sherry’s, with its plastic and chrome booths, its Scotch-taped Naugahyde lounge covers, was a good spot for on-duty hiding and always, at this early morning hour, filled with coffee-gurgling police and loners fleeing from their crumbling rooming houses. “The kids excited?” Fiona asked. “Yeah,” Teddy shrugged. He was always tight-lipped in the morning, which gave his wife Gladys fits, and his children’s possessiveness was absolute and draining. They were going to Ocean City for the Fourth. He looked warily at the portable radio on the table, their umbilical cord to headquarters. “I promised Bruce the whole weekend,” Fiona said. “With his kids at camp and the House out . . .” Crazy, she thought, how their lovers’ time was dictated by outside forces. She was proud of him, amember of Congress, although she detested politics. For his part he admired her cop career as an exercise in female pluck, although she suspected that deep down he considered it an aberration. They had planned to live together experimentally for the summer while his kids were away. She hoped it would be a vacation fantasy, July Fourth to Labor Day, like in a lazy resort holiday. Her bags were packed. “If we make it through August, we might get married,” she said. She and Teddy were intimate the way strangers on a train are intimate. She looked across the table at him, a brooding, hulking man, the genuine Teddy. His bigness gave her security. She wondered if he resented her; her youth, her education, her femaleness. Being partners wasn’t random selection. They were together only because they were Caucasians. The eggplant, the division chief, had “married” them, to keep down the salt-and-pepper tensions in the department. He always took the line of least resistance, hence the vegetable nickname. “Quiet?” Sherry asked, coming from behind the counter to refill their cups. The spotted apron accentuated her girth. “We hope,” Fiona said, looking at the black box, which gave out static. “We both have weekend plans. But you never know in this business.” Teddy grunted indifferently. His private thoughts seemed always to be on home problems, making ends meet, raising a family of four on twenty-two five. The radio crackled suddenly. They leaned forward, the adrenalin charging. “The National Gallery of Art?”