The Mercy of the Night, by David Corbett … ten years ago she escaped an abduction … now she’s caught in yet another hellish nightmare, except this time she’s got an escape plan. And if she finds herself short a couple grand, there’s always Fireman Mike to the rescue.
That’s my teaser … the story centers around Jacqi Garza, a kid from a home life that would make a violently dysfunctional home seem like paradise. She’s gone from an abducted child from a horrible home life, to a hooker working the streets, to the primary witness to a brutal murder. Enter Phelan Tierney, a self-imposed retired lawyer turned private investigator, and tutor to wayward kids. He wants to help Jacqi. He’d been tutoring her for a GED at a rehab house. He realized she had genuine potential along with a natural ability working with numbers. Tierney isn’t the type to give up, but Jacqi is a lightning rod for trouble, some of it pretty nasty. Enter that Fireman Mike guy … and Jacqi’s incredibly cold and cruel Mother … her mother’s gangster boyfriend … the men he employs … the 50 or so other witnesses, some of them participants, to the murder Jacqi witnessed … and yous get the picture.
Phelan has a love interest, Cass, the nurse who took care of his wife while she suffered through the cruelty of cancer. Cass wants more than Phelan can sometimes muster (or let go of); the ghost of his dead wife haunts their relationship. And Cass knows when Phelan sinks his teeth into something (to help someone), it’s unlikely he’ll let go. Will it end what they have … or do they just think they have more than is possible under the circumstances.
There’s also a decent cop who made a mistake that involved Jacqi. He’s getting paranoid about it coming back to haunt him … his career, his pension, everything----he can lose it all. And at home, he’s got his own problems; an artistic son with drawings that have gotten him into the shit at school.
Social commentary abounds, and it’s always clever and poignant. Corbett keeps the pace moving, sometimes delving back to the night Jacqi escaped, to the night Phalen’s wife died (from both Phelan and Cass’s perspective), to the things Jacqi wasn’t forthright about ten years ago.
Corbett is a brilliant writer and he’s penned another wonderfully intelligent page turner. VERY HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!
Tanto la vita! Indeed.
Deflategate … as reported in the Washington Post this week: “But under league guidelines, the NFL doesn’t have to catch Brady in the act of ordering the deflation,” MMQB’s Peter King wrote Thursday morning. “Goodell and NFL executive vice president of football operations Troy Vincent, who is also reviewing the case for discipline, could rely on the ‘preponderance of the evidence’ that ‘the fact sought to be proved is more probable than not,’ according to the league’s policy on integrity of the game.”
According to longtime General Manager and NFL insider, Bill Polian: “Guilty.”
You’d have to be pretty naïve and/or a stubborn MF’er to believe for a second that Tom Brady didn’t tell the ball boys he’ll most likely attempt to throw under the bus (what everyone has always assumed from jump street regarding Deflategate) to deflate the balls. The text messaging between them, the fact Brady lied and said he didn’t know one of the two, and the fact Brady refused to share his phone messages … well, does anyone really believe O.J. didn’t kill his ex-wife and Ron Goldman? Too far a stretch (criminal activity vs. cheating)? How about does anyone really believe the world is flat?
While Cheatriot loyalists, much like Democratic loyalists, ignore the corruption that envelops their two heroes (Tom Brady and Hillary Clinton), it seems they’re sharing the same playbook (keep the truth to themselves, ZERO transparency, and point to the lack of a smoking gun--as if a mountain of circumstantial evidence isn’t enough to find guilt). Kind of like FOX news: “What facts? We don’t need no stinkin’ facts!”).
In the meantime, the rest of the world points to the little thingy above the 8 on U.S. keyboards … and although I’ve said many times (including publicly) that I thought Brady and Montana were the two best ever quarterbacks, at least of those I’ve seen, I now remove Mr. Cheaterface from the pairing and Montana owns it … because he earned it.
As far as I’m concerned, just like the cheaters in MLB and any other sport, Brady’s career, along with the Cheatriots so-called Championships, are as credible as A-Fraud passing the great WILLIE MAYS … and pretty much anything these losers did while juiced: Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire’s, Sammy Sosa (the list is way too long to keep typing) …
And for their cheating ways, they get one of those ... forever.
And then there’s the Bolts vs. Expos … we can end it tomorrow, put the Bad Bagels out of their collective misery … or we can toy with them again and bring them back to Tampa for the beating we now owe them. We shall see … but Rigoletto will be in uniform (without being kidnapped by his Mommy this time) … GO BOLTS!
Richard III
Lady, you know no rules of charity,
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
ANNE
Villain, thou know’st not law of God nor man.
No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.
—Knucks
From Tosca (and The Mercy of the Night) … Pavarotti singing E lucevan le stelle …
