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The Conspiracy of Silence
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ISBN-10: 1-55404-299-2
ISBN-13: 
Genre: Suspense/Thriller/Mystery
eBook Length: 298 Pages
Published: October 2005
OUT OF PRINT

From inside the flap

Imagine a nation engulfed in a steamy, seductive scandal, when a mysterious corpse found inside a rented Cadillac in an obscure park in Southern California turns out to be Susan Whitaker, the flamboyant wife of the governor of California. A dazzlingly intricate shuffle of accumulating leaks will lead the police to the delicate theory of a secret lover/ blackmailer and to the indictment of Hollywood’s most influential black celebrity, Benjamin Carlton ?
 
The Conspiracy of Silence is the searing, intriguing tale of the curious things that happen when Carlton’s ambitious girlfriend, 25 year-old Rita Spencer, suddenly unearths the shocking secret that Susan Whitaker did not, in fact, exist. She little realizes however that her discovery of this colossal fraud is a mere curtain raiser to a chilling world of ugly skeletons dating back to the assassination of a U.S. Senator inside a Washington hotel sauna, skeletons connected to a riveting sex and gay scandal in high places, skeletons the FBI and political king-makers will kill for. 
 
Now, as Rita Spencer peels away the layers of her mysteries, with delicate cunning, in an epic courtroom showdown, she finds that a plot has been perfected to make her go insane. Yet, behind the unyielding vendetta, the facade of lies, scandals and false identities, she knows that there was a real murder, a real corpse, a real accused, a real killer. And, in fact, how much the governor himself knew about his wife’s death.
 
But will she live or be sane long enough to defend her boyfriend against the mounting conspiracies and uncover the startling truth behind the mysterious murder?


The Conspiracy of Silence (Excerpt)


WHAT CAME BEFORE ...

An eerie figure stepped out of the shrubbery silently like a ghost. His presence seemed to pollute the air all around him. His face was masked and his hands were covered with black gloves. For a full minute he stood in death-like silence as his evil eyes studied his environment with a cold precision. Only the sound of the fountain’s cascading waters greeted him.

A short distance away, huge electric bulbs, like sparkling balls of fire, loomed over the lush greenery of Glennon Park, capturing its beauty in a halo of kaleidoscopic brilliance. As usual, a throng of men, in a variety of bright summer garments intermixed with women, some in jeans and T-shirts, others in shorts and fancy sleeveless tops, moved about chatting and laughing. But the fountain, which stood in a dark and isolated area of the park and surrounded by luxuriant shrubs, was hardly visited at night, except by some youths who loved to exploit the darkness for romantic mischief.

On this particular night there were no lovers necking by the fountain, but there was something else. A gleaming Cadillac occupied by a lady was neatly parked beside the fountain. This was an unusual sight, cars were not allowed this far into the park and this Cadillac had violated that rule. Whatever fantasies within the limits of human accomplishment its driver might have originally conceived, this was certainly the wrong night for it.

The eerie figure, seeing the car, made a sudden gesture as his pulse quickened. This would be his last murder. The climax of a long, enterprising career as the greatest assassin of all time. He was a killer so efficient and so elusive that even the FBI nicknamed him "Shadow of Death" for his uncanny ability to dissolve into mere shadow after every hit.

He mopped his face with a handkerchief and contemplated the victim’s mesmerizing elegance and her fairy-tale beauty. Victim! He thought and winced. Even now, it seemed odd to think of her as a victim. He had loved her once. In fact, he still loved her and therein lay the irony - a fatal confrontation of his obsession with his survival instinct. The survival instinct, of-course, must win, for between them now stood the only thing that love could not conquer ? a secret. A very dark secret.

The "Shadow of Death" glided stealthily toward the Cadillac, his face intense on the terrible deed he was about to accomplish. His only accomplice was his own shadow, perceptible to no eye but one. It was innocuous and apparition-like, only there to see, not to comment. It moved when the assassin moved and stopped when he did, like a minion with no initiative of its own, a robot programmed to repeat the action of its mentor, silently, as only a ghost would; then saddled thereafter with the damning knowledge of the truth, a truth that would elude the rest of the world. An everlasting witness. A ghost that would never die.

Inside the Cadillac there was silence. A deafening silence. A canopy of ominous cloud sprawled across the night sky. The summer night was neither hot nor cold. There was no wind at all and thankfully, no humidity. All around the expensive car darkness closed in as slowly and unfalteringly as the approaching evil. The assassin’s face was expressionless but his facial muscles were taut, his heartbeat was regular. Outwardly, he was calm, almost casual, with no noticeable signs of panic. He was, after-all, a pro.

He opened the driver’s door of the car silently with his gloved hand. She did not see him, could not see him because her face was turned downwards. He stared, fascinated, the roaring tension inside him silenced by his cold determination. Everything would depend on this moment, this act. His eyes darted everywhere, he did not want any interruption and there was none. He reached for her throat silently, swiftly, giving her no chance to react. There must be no error, he thought callously.

He had taken about five minutes to plan this murder and now he needed about the same time to execute it. His pressure on her throat was fierce, it was a vice grip. Time, thoughts, fear, regrets, all ceased to exist as an eternity seemed to roll by in a few seconds. Then silence. And relief flooded his being. It was over, he almost smiled. The work bore the mark of his usual professional touch - smooth, fast, painless and very, very peaceful...