Sam Markum and the Palm Springs Predators (Sam Markum, PI – Book 1) by T. Lawton Carney

Excerpt:



Chapter One

Sam Markum ducked under an awning in
front of a cannabis shop on North Palm Canyon Drive just as another January
downpour hit the street. He was in a vintage Burberry khaki trench coat and
sported a brown trilby hat cocked to one side and pulled low over his left eye.
It was 12:50 and those who passed him thought he might be going to some sort of
fancy dress party or possibly someone who needed professional help. Sam didn’t
care, the coat kept him dry while those who hadn’t adjusted to the idea that
Palm Springs, California was no longer a desert walked around soaked to the
skin. As with so many storms that hit the western coast of America these days
the deluge came in waves of heavy rain with lightning and thunder followed by
periods of light drizzle and Sam knew this particular opening of the heavens
would pass in a few minutes. As he watched the traffic on the street pass by he
reached inside his coat and adjusted the pulse pistol tucked in its holster
just under his left arm. He wasn’t a violent man but the pistol had saved his
skin more than once while working a case. He kept his five foot eight inch
forty-two year old frame well-toned and combined with his stunning deep-set
blue eyes and jet black hair he was a very attractive man. He wasn’t vain but
did enjoy the attention he often received when out and about in this Southern
California oasis. Although his clothes were clean he was often disheveled and
friends told him on more than one occasion he looked like an unmade bed. It
didn’t bother him and to his mind he thought the look helped in his
profession. 

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In this, the year 2077, Sam’s choice
of anachronistic clothing was just one of the many things that some saw as
outdated. Sam was a PI or private investigator and his cases were, for the most
part, as conventional as his wardrobe was not. He spied on wandering spouses,
heterosexual and same sex, which usually revolved around the question of who
was doing what to whom. He had been in the business for so long he could
usually tell when, where and how he would get the hard evidence needed to pass
along to the injured party. He also had a lucrative business consulting about
security and improved theft prevention. There were cases, however, that often
defied description and the one he had just been called in on was one. Missing
persons weren’t new to Sam but he was intrigued by the call he had gotten
earlier in the morning. A man named Elliot Duval wanted Sam to investigate the
abduction of his husband who had been missing for almost three days. Mr. Duval
told Sam he even knew how his husband, Michael Towson, had been taken. The
police had dismissed his claims and would not follow-up with an investigation
and he asked Sam to come right over and help him get his husband back. Sam
agreed to meet that afternoon because he wanted to know more about a case that
seemed on the face of it easy to solve.

With a crack of thunder and an
explosive display of lightning the rain began to ease up and Sam started
walking north toward the address given by Mr. Duval. 777 North Palm Canyon had
once been a two story office and retail complex but in 2046 it was replaced by
a thirty story condominium tower with expensive shops and restaurants on the
ground floor and luxurious residences above. Mr. Duval’s flat was one of two
penthouses located on the top floor. Sam arrived at the Tamarisk Tower and
walked through the covered passageway with shops on either side to the lobby of
the condominium tower. He was shaking the water off his hat as the tall, husky
uniformed door man greeted him by tipping his hat and asking,

“May I help you?”

“I’m Sam Markum and have an
appointment with Mr. Duval in 3001.”

“If you would go over to the
concierge desk he will be happy to help you.”

At the desk Sam was greeted by a very
handsome man in his late thirty’s with a thatch of dirty blonde hair and deep
set brown eyes. He was dressed in the latest fashion of snug knee length shorts
sporting a splashy print topped with a short sleeved silk shirt open at the
collar. As Sam cast an appreciative eye over the tight body and delightfully
rounded buns the concierge addressed him.

“Mr. Duval is expecting you. Are you
here to help? I certainly hope so. Ellie’s been so upset since Mikey went
missing. In truth we all are. You may go right up and I’ll be here when you’re
finished if you need anything. I’m Jamie, by the way.” he said with a wink and
a smile.

Sam turned away from the desk with a
smile on his lips and stepped into the well-appointed lift. He was quickly on
the thirtieth floor and knocking on Mr. Duval’s door.

The door was opened and there before
him was his new client. Mr. Duval was five feet eight inches tall with a
slender almost waif-like appearance and he couldn’t have weighed more than one
hundred forty pounds. He was about twenty-seven years old with light brown hair
that was perfectly groomed and dark brown eyes that were almost piercing as he
looked Sam up and down with a languorous gaze that Sam took in as he looked at
the man. He was dressed in tight tan trousers and a blousy flowing open necked deep
blue linen shirt with a chartreuse green silk scarf wrapped loosely around his
neck. The only jewelry he wore was a large chronograph-comm on his left wrist.
His eyes finally settled on Sam’s and he broke into a broad, almost inviting,
smile.

“Mr. Markum I’m so glad you were able
to come over so quickly.” He was ushered into the foyer which led into the
expansive living room with a spectacular south facing aspect that would have
had wonderful views of the mountains to the right and left if the clouds weren’t
hanging so low to the ground. As he entered the living room he was overwhelmed
by the extravagance of the antique furniture on display. The flooring was white
on white terrazzo with brilliantly colored Nichols and Fetti wool rugs
throughout.  The sofa and matching chairs
facing the expanse of windows were upholstered in violet mohair with a matching
set of Ruhlman Macassar wood tables. The other furniture around the room was a
well edited collection of Mies van der Rohe, Eileen Grey, Le Corbusier and Ray
and Charles Eames. The wall behind him was adorned with an oil painting in the
contructivism style by the renowned Hungarian artist Bela Kadar.

“Have a seat Mr. Markum; would you
like something to drink? A cigarette, perhaps?”

“No thank you, I can’t help but
admire your collection. Antiques like these are so hard to find these days. You
two must have spent years looking for just the right pieces.” Sam said as he
took a seat in one of the chairs next to the sofa.

“Oh, my I wouldn’t know. All this was here when I moved in two years
ago. Michael loves to collect and he’s responsible for all this. I have a small
study off the hall I’ve done up in 21st century Mid-American funk
which I think is just as nice.”

Elliott had been fluttering around the room straightening nick-knacks
and trying not to look as excited as he was. He moved from one table to another
and from one upholstered piece to another. Sam sat quietly and watched the
nervous man move around the room and observed how his unease was made more evident
with each small flick of his wrists. Finally, he adjusted his scarf and sat
down on the sofa next to Sam.

“Mr.
Duval tell me about the night Mr. Towson disappeared.”

Alien abductions. Mysterious lightning storms. A handsome concierge and a suave private investigator. In the near future, Palm Springs becomes the center for a murderous gang intent on blackmail and money. Using an advanced technology, no one is safe from their nefarious actions.

Blurb:

Sam is called by Elliott Duval to find his husband who was abducted three days before. The police don’t believe his story and Sam is his only hope. Through clever undercover work and deft research Sam and his team embark on a bizarre trail leading to an unexpected resolution.

Author T. Lawton Carney Bio:



T. Lawton Carney

Tom’s undergraduate studies were at the University of Tennessee, majoring in English Literature, and he is the published author of three highly successful books on the business of interior design under the name of Thomas L. Williams. Tom has also contributed to the premier issue of the Santa Barbara Literary Journal and co-written interior design forecast pieces and written for local and regional newspapers.

Tom’s mother sparked an interest in Sci-Fi when he was just six years old and took him to the neighborhood library to introduce him to Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov and his early favorite, the Tom Swift, Jr. series. His love of optimistic portrayals of research and discovery in a futuristic setting have taken him to all parts of the universe. His own writing ranges from galactic adventure in the far future to a near future murder mystery series featuring Sam Markum. The Markum series brings the glamour and intrigue of the 1930’s to a late 21st century future with all the action and adventure one would expect from a suave private eye.

It was the supportive writing course at the Palm Springs LGBT center that first took Mr. Williams writing into Sci-Fi. The moderator of the group, successful author David Wallace, helped Tom discover the inner fantasy-fiction writer he is today. Tom embraces the concept of a future in which all mankind is the beneficiary of the exploration that will take us to the moon, the planets and ultimately the stars.  

Tom, and his husband Robert, have lived on the East Coast of the United States, London, England, Carmel, California and now Palm Springs, California. They have traveled extensively and enjoy a wide range of interests.