About Boystown 2: Three Nick Nowak Mysteries
by Marshall Thornton
251 pages / 63500 words
ISBN: 978-1-61040-018-3
Ebook zipped file contains -
html, lit, Adobe and Sony optimized pdf, prc, epub, also available in paperback
In the second Boystown collection, Chicago private investigator Nick
Nowak finds himself involved with a young man who murdered his stepfather
but refuses to assist in his own defense, hired to find the murderer of a
dead porno star, and, in a case that traps him between the two men he loves,
searching for a serial killer’s only living victim. Set in the second half
of 1981, Boystown 2 follows Nick as he juggles his deepening relationship
with Detective Bert Harker with the return of his ex, Daniel Laverty. Which
man will he choose? Or will he be able to choose?
Review
CB Potts, author of the Rockhound books, writes: Nick Nowak returns in a
trio of awesome mystery tales set in the early 80's.
Little Boy Silent brings us Vincent, accused of murdering his
step-father and refusing to say anything about what happened. Nick's
been hired by the mob to find out the truth. All of Thornton's stories
can be read as part of a longer narrative, and here we begin to see the
first signs of trouble in Nick's relationship with his sometimes lover,
Harker, a police officer. Monogamy's not necessarily something Nick can
do, which may trouble some readers, but the resulting parade of steamy
hookups and chance encounters -- so very, very authentic to the period
-- are fantastically erotic and extremely well written.
Little Boy Blond brings Nick into the fledgling gay porn film business,
investigating the death of Dex Summers, a star gone too soon. The erotic
scenes are fabulous, but even more amazing is Thornton's deft handling
of the myriad plots and subplots centering around Nick's relationship
with Harker, who is working a serial killer case, as well as some casual
and not-so-casual acquaintances and the financial health of his PI
business. Readers who appreciate a realistic, well rounded character
portrayal will be delighted. Little Boy Loved is a heartbreaking tale of
love found and lost. Nick is asked to find a runaway teenager -- the one
surviving victim of the serial killer Harker has been pursuing, a fact
that drives an incredible wedge into the pair's relationship. They agree
not to see each other for the duration of the case.
During this time, Nick is confronted with the return of his one great
love, Daniel. Is his heart still Daniel's, or can he finally admit he's
in love with Harker? It's exquisitely painful reading: readers will be
torn between wanting to revile Nick for his choices one minute and shout
with joy the next as he navigates this emotional minefield.
Not to be missed, Boystown 2 is a gem.
Sample
Veterans Day fell on a
Wednesday. Normally, it's not the kind of holiday I notice, since it doesn't
have decorations or costumes, but that particular day was busy. I'd gotten up
early, fired up my Mr. Coffee, and toasted a bagel. I took my breakfast out into
the living room and flipped on the TV. The news was reporting on a guy dressed
in a Spiderman suit climbing the Hancock Tower. And if that wasn't interesting
enough, the head of the fire department was using a fire hose to try and spray
him off the thirty-sixth floor. I had to share this with someone, so I called my
friend Ross.
"Turn on your TV," I told him when he picked up.
"I can't talk," he said. "I'm waiting for Earl to call."
"Just turn on the TV."
"I haven't talked to him in a couple of days. He promised he'd call this
morning." He had the same note of desperation in his voice I'd been hearing for
months.
"This guy is climbing the Hancock like it's some kind of mountain. Turn it on."
"Okay, but I have to go. I'll call you back after I talk to Earl." He hung up on
me.
As I put the receiver back into the cradle, my eyes stayed glued to the TV. The
reporters were going nuts. They tried to remain calm, but it was obvious they
were thrilled to be reporting a life-or-death story.
I was wearing a pair of cut-off sweats I'd pulled on the minute I got out of bed
and a T-shirt that said CPD in cracked plastic letters. The radiators attached
to the ceiling of my garden apartment were radiating just the right amount of
heat for me to go around barefoot. I was comfortable and ready to stay that way
the entire day.
There wasn't much going on with my job. I had a couple invoices sitting on my
desk down at my office in the Loop. I needed to type them up and send them out,
but there was no mail pick-up that day, so why bother? The core of my business
is running background checks for a company called Peterson-Palmer Investments,
and I figured the next two months were likely to be a little slow. There
wouldn't be a lot of hiring going on during the holidays.
Worry about my finances distracted me during commercials. I worked the door a
couple nights a week at a nightclub called Paradise Isle, which would keep me
afloat. But life is about more than treading water. I'd worked a lucrative case
over the summer and gotten paid a large sum in cash. I used the money to catch
up my bills and buy myself a nice little Browning "Baby" at a gun shop just
outside the city limits. It was twenty-five caliber and fit nicely into an ankle
holster I picked up at the same time.
It cost a couple hundred bucks, but there were good reasons to have it. Reason
number one: I'd had to fire a weapon twice this year. That wasn't a reason to
suppose I'd ever have to fire a gun again, but it also wasn't a reason to
suppose I wouldn't. Reason number two: the city council was making noise about
gun control, and I might not be able to register another gun soon ¬-- much less
obtain a carry permit. I figured I should have at least one extra gun floating
around. Reason number three: I wanted it.
Financially, I'd be fine. I knew that. Sort of. I was debt free and even had an
empty credit card with a two thousand dollar limit. I wasn't going to end up on
the street. Actually, I'd have been sitting pretty, but I had a client -- a
well-known pornographer named Martin Dalton -- for whom I'd just done a job.
Things had turned out just the way he wanted. He was a happy customer. Except
his retainer check had bounced, and he hadn't paid the invoice I'd sent. When I
called to remind him he owed me money, he offered me a box of videos he claimed
was of equal value. Hanging around him for a week or so, I'd gotten the
impression he was making money hand over fist; that made being stiffed a real
pisser.
I kept getting up and flipping the channel from two to five to seven to nine.
They all had similar shots of water being sprayed down the side of the building
at a speck of a guy clinging to the side. Then, reporters on WGN said the mayor
was on her way down to deal with the situation herself. This was getting good.
The phone rang again. Obviously, it was Ross calling me back.
"Well, it's about time," I teased.
There was a pause on the other end, then a voice I recognized all too well said,
"That wasn't exactly the way I wanted to start this conversation."
"Daniel," I said, though I was surprised I had enough breath to say it. Daniel
Laverty was my ex-lover. We'd been together about three years when a couple of
suburban assholes took a bat to Daniel's face and our lives.
"Hi, Nick, how are you?"
He asked so sincerely, it couldn't be passed off with just a "Fine, and you?"
So, I thought about it and said, "I'm doing okay. Better than I have a right to.
How are you?"
"I'm good. Thanks." He waited a moment. I couldn't stop myself wondering why he
was calling. Did he want to see me? Had he forgiven me? Did he--
"Nick, I need your help."
"Sure, anything," I said, though I did hope it wasn't money he needed. I'd give
it to him, of course. But it wasn't a good time.
"Actually, it's friends of my mine who need you. This couple I've met."
"What do your friends need?"
"They need you to find their boy."
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