There’s a lot going on in the 87th Precinct this spring, and none of it is good. Jumpers on building ledges, a salesman torn apart by an explosion, and to cap it all off, they find the dead, half-naked bodies of Irene Thayer and Tommy Barlow in bed together. It has all the earmarks of a double suicide: a note, empty liquor bottles, closed windows, and the gas on the stove turned up. At least this one’s open and shut. Or is it?
Something doesn’t sit right with the detectives at the 87th Precinct, so Steve Carella and his partner Cotton Hawes decide to give the case a once-over. Routine checks can turn up interesting facts. Like Irene’s mother, who has an insurance policy on her daughter. Or Irene's grieving, cuckold husband who’s riding the ragged edge. Even Tommy’s brother. Problem is, in order to find a killer, you have to prove there was a murder…
A complex, captivating thriller that probes the deep recesses of the human heart, Like Love is a bittersweet addition to Ed McBain’s 87th Precinct series and a rare look inside the softer side of hardened detectives.
Something doesn’t sit right with the detectives at the 87th Precinct, so Steve Carella and his partner Cotton Hawes decide to give the case a once-over. Routine checks can turn up interesting facts. Like Irene’s mother, who has an insurance policy on her daughter. Or Irene's grieving, cuckold husband who’s riding the ragged edge. Even Tommy’s brother. Problem is, in order to find a killer, you have to prove there was a murder…
A complex, captivating thriller that probes the deep recesses of the human heart, Like Love is a bittersweet addition to Ed McBain’s 87th Precinct series and a rare look inside the softer side of hardened detectives.
