The Kurt Bower Murder Case

Broadways My Beat from Times Square to Columbus Circle, the godiest, the most violent, the lonesomeest mile in the world. Broadways My Beat with Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. In the sunlight of an October morning, Broadway stands on its street corner and breathes deep of the autumn filtered air, presses out of its lungs the taste of the night past.

This is the time of day when neon is silent, spectacular as doors. The shadows have not yet found their final shapes, and the pavement is flecked with glints of sun fragments. Doorways are opened on the October day, and the night dreams are swept into the gutters.

It's the time of the coffee and cakes, and break from the starting gate. And the odds, even up, you never come in. And where I was, the sunlight filtered through Italian damask, swiftly caressed, a torso and black marble ahead in stone, parked with antiquity, a glass case with golden coins hermetically sealed against corrosion and desire.

And impervious to it all, the man who leaned fastidiously against a Grecian column, then lifted his glass of champagne silently, toasted the bust of Plato, then let the realization flow over him that a policeman was there among his treasures.

You respond well to people, and quickly. Bravo. At headquarters, they said your call sounded urgent. sound adurgent. Do they say that? How perceptive of you people. The extraordinary qualities one finds in the most unimaginative of the delicious. That's right Mr. Hanson, no imagination. That's why you'll have to tell me the reason I'm here.

It's exquisite. You'll be ravished by it. Shall we set it off with champagne? Look, I reject the bubbly. It's going to be such a grisly day, Mr. Glover. I promise you. It's after a good start. Goodbye, Mr. Hanson. Come back, idiot man. Come back. In this It's roomful of dead antiquity. There is so much vibrant death pulsating death.