Compelling Evidence (Paul Madriani, Book 1) by Steve Martini

By Steve Martini

Steve Martini has written a perfectly crafted and smart court mystery. We surely have a brand new literary lion within the fictional crime genre.

—Vincent Bugliosi "In the culture of serious court dramas, Steve Martini's Compelling Evidence is a taut, stressful story that I easily couldn't placed down."

—Dominick Dunne "Sets a typical for suspenseful, clever court docket drama that would be not easy to equivalent. It's through a ways the simplest of the style I've ever visible . . . totally thrilling."

—Clifford Irving "Terrific and exciting felony drama . . . completely unique. It's great!"

—Melvin Belli "Superb . . . really on a degree with Presumed Innocent."

—F. Lee Bailey

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Additional info for Compelling Evidence (Paul Madriani, Book 1)

Sample text

Richard Zeeman entered the room. I didn’t actually see him enter. I felt it. I turned and watched him walk towards us. He was six foot one, nearly a foot taller than me. Another inch and we couldn’t have kissed without a chair. But it would have been worth the effort. He wove between the other guests, saying a word here and there. His smile flashed white and perfect in his permanently tanned skin as he talked to these new friends that he’d managed to charm at dinner. Not with sex appeal or power but with sheer good will.

He sniffed Richard’s foot and looked up at him with a small growl. Mrs. Pringle tugged on his leash. ” The dog quieted, but I think it was more Richard’s steady glare than Mrs. Pringle’s admonishments. She smiled at us. She had the same light in her eyes that Catherine had had. She liked Richard and made no bones about it. “Well, now, this is advantageous. ” Richard smiled at her. ” He walked around to the trunk and started trying to undo the knots. ” I asked. “I carried him with me. I’ve spent a great deal of money at that store before.

I wondered how many of them had assassins after them. I was betting I was one of the few. “You’re quiet,” Richard said. ” “I won’t ask what you’re thinking about. ” I looked at him. The darkness of the car wrapped around us. Cars at night are like your own private world, hushed and dark, intimate. The lights of oncoming traffic swept over his face, highlighting it, then leaving us in darkness. ” He flashed me a grin. ” I smiled. “Sorry. ” “That’s your rule, not mine,” Richard said. “I’m a big boy.

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