The author writes in the film-noir style as seen in the old black-and-white movies from the '40s and '50s. There is always a MacGuffin or plot device that drives the story. In the case of his book, the author used potential threats to himself or to his wi

The Sounds of Death

By A. A. Pecora

Trafford Publishing

Copyright © 2012 A. A. Pecora
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4669-4428-2

Chapter One

The room was warm and stuffy. Cody Thomas was standing by the window smoking his last cigarette. A crumpled, empty cigarette package lay on the windowsill.

The only sound that could be heard was a low hum originating from the tape machine, which was meant to record any activity picked up by a small "bug" that Cody had placed behind a picture in the room next door. He was attempting to gather information on a sleazy lawyer, who may have some ties to the mob and was cheating on his wife.

Cody could see no activity in the street three stories below. The city was not like itself this early in the morning, particularly in this neighborhood, where there are only old hotels, run-down apartment houses, and a few dilapidated warehouses. There were no people, no cars nor trucks, and the streets were cluttered with old newspapers and debris.

He had been holed up in this desolate flophouse for three days, waiting for the right moment. While investigating the wife of a client, Samuel T. Hollowell, Esq., Cody had discovered that Hollowell was secretly bringing women to the Apollo Hotel which was certainly not the kind of place where he was likely to run into friends or business associates.

As Cody stared out the window, the reflection revealed a rugged, good-looking face with a five o'clock shadow and a three-inch scar running from the lower corner of the right eye back toward the earlobe. Plastic surgery was unable to completely hide the scar, which was the result of a street fight while on duty as a policeman. The dark skin and black hair betrayed Cody's one-eighth Native-American heritage. The cigarette dangled from his mouth. He stood six-foot tall with a well-developed body, which was pressed against the window frame. His right hand was jammed into the pocket of his rumpled slacks.

A brass clock sat on the dusty end table next to the bed, its second hand swept around the face in rhythmic jerks. Two larger black pointers moved almost imperceptibly, one indicating the hour and the other the minute. It was 3:00 a.m. Cigarette smoke hung like a pall over the tattered hotel room. The lamp on the table was not lit, leaving the room illuminated by only the blinking hotel sign outside.

A single bed covered with a sheet stained with what was most likely sweat and grime hugged the wall. The bedside table, on which the clock sat, also held a tarnished brass lamp with a tilted, dirty, fluted shade.

Across from the bed were two doors, one leading to the hall and the other to an empty closet. There was an old, broken wicker-back chair against the wall between the two doors. A small bathroom was off to the left.

The ashtray on the bedside table was filled to overflowing. A crushed cigarette butt smoldered half lit, its thin stream of smoke spiraling upward.

Against the wall, opposite the chair, stood a small black and white TV set with rabbit ear antenna sticking up in the shape of a V. Nothing in the room seemed to be meant for long-term use.

Another puff of blue-gray smoke exhaled from Cody's mouth and wafted across the room, accentuating the light, which intermittently streamed through the uneven blinds.

Hollowell had told Cody that he suspected his wife was running around on him and had hired him to follow her and gather evidence, presumably to be used in a divorce action. Cody subsequently came to suspect that the information was actually to be used by Hollowell as protection against his wife, in case she tried to divorce him and get a large settlement.

Hollowell also told Cody that his wife, Sarah, was out three nights a week with various excuses such as social club meetings, exercise groups, and the women's art society. Cody's job was to check these out and report any discrepancies to Samuel T.

After diligently setting up his investigation, Cody spent the next three weeks verifying each location Mrs. Hollowell visited. He discovered Mrs. Hollowell was doing exactly what she claimed.

At the gym, he found Mrs. Hollowell sweating along with her friends as they did their aerobics. When she finished, she'd shower and usually stop to have a cup of coffee with the ladies then immediately return home. When he checked out the women's social club and the art society, she was again doing what she was supposed to be doing. Cody noted suspiciously, however, that each evening when Mrs. Hollowell returned home, his client was never there.

Cody met with Mr. Hollowell to give him the preliminary report, thinking that he would be paid off, and their association would be ended. Instead, Hollowell insisted that Cody continue the investigation. Since he was being paid well, Cody was only too happy to continue.

It was then that Cody decided to set up surveillance on Mr. Hollowell. It would be a kick, he thought, and besides, it seemed ironic that the man who hired him would end up paying for his own surveillance. Since Cody had no other cases at this point, he readily agreed. Additionally, by gathering this information against Mr. Hollowell, Cody thought there might be an opportunity for a future paycheck from Mrs. Hollowell if she decided to start divorce proceedings of her own. Besides, he had come to dislike Samuel T. Hollowell, Esq. A lot.

This was the reason he had spent the last three nights in this crummy room, smoking cigarette after cigarette, and waiting. His routine was to arrive at the Apollo at around 7:00 p.m. and stay until 7:00 a.m. Nothing happened the first two nights, and Cody went home each morning tired and feeling grungy, like the hotel room he was using. When he got home, Joanna, his wife of two years, would be there with a hug and a kiss and no questions asked. She was Cody's second wife. His previous marriage had lasted only one year because Maryann, his first wife, couldn't accept his line of work and the hours spent doing it.

Early in their marriage, Maryann began to accuse him of infidelity. His crazy hours often kept them apart for days at a time. When he finally did get home, she would immediately begin questioning him regarding his whereabouts. She took no interest in his work and did nothing but complain about the lack of money and material things. Cody tried to make it up to her by spending money he didn't have. He eventually overextended himself with credit cards and loans, making things even worse.

Often, when he got home, Maryann wasn't there, and when eventually she did arrive, the excuses she offered for her absence were feeble. However, it was when she decided to take a separate vacation that things really fell apart. One day, he came home to find a note saying that she'd gone to a health spa for a week. She didn't even mention where the spa was located. When Maryann returned, they quarreled, and Maryann walked out. A few weeks later, he received the divorce papers, and that was the end of that.

Joanna was different. She was really excited by his work and understood and accepted the unusual hours and the frequent periods of financial insecurity. She never complained that he had to spend many late nights during his investigations.

Joanna Trombetti was working at the county courthouse as a stenographer when they met. Cody had been in court to testify in a case, when he noticed this pretty five feet two inches woman with flaxen hair and dark brown eyes who was recording the proceedings. She so captivated him that he made it his business to hang around until she was finished that particular session. He waited outside the courtroom, and when she came out, he...