Chapter 1:
The loud ring of my antique rotary phone woke me from a deep sleep. I had been deeply involved in a strange dream. When I answered the phone, my mind thought I was still asleep.
“Hello,” I murmered into the phone.
“Luther sleeps with the fishes,” said the caller in a mechanical voice.
“Huh?” I replied squinting at the bedside clock as the phone line went dead.
It was just after four in the morning. A quick glance out the window revealed darkness and fog so thick I couldn’t see across the street. I could barely see the end of my vintage Lincoln town car that was parked in the driveway. The neighborhood was silent and still as I dialed the police station.
“Otter Bay Police,” answered the desk sergent.
“I just got a wierd call,” I explained not bothering to identify myself.
“Aren’t they all strange at this hour?” replied Marcus Jenks whom I knew by name only.
“Yeah unfortunately I get my share of wierdos,” I commented and then asked, “Does the name Luther mean anything?”
“Let me check the open case files,” Jenks said as I heard him typing on a keyboard, “Nothing open under that name.”
“Okay,” I said with a yawn, “Thanks for your help.”
I hung up the phone and fell back asleep. My mind went into working overtime. I couldn’t get the caller’s mysterious voice out of my head.
It sounded like a line out of an old mob movie. I kept trying to think where I had heard it before but I was still too tired to come up with an answer. Eventualy I passed out altogether only to get woken up by another phone call.
“Hello,” I mumbled.
“You called us about a wierd phone call?” a man in a hurry asked on the other end of the line.
“Yeah,” I said recognizing the voice of David Crane, the department’s lone detective.
“What did they say?” he asked quickly.
“Luther sleeps with the fishes,” I repeated sitting up in bed adding, “Sounded like a line out of an old movie.”
“We just fished a body out of the bay,” Detective Crane explained, “The ID in his pocket says Luther.”