An Image of Death
by Libby Fischer Hellmann
Summary
Documentary film producer Ellie Foreman finds a mysterious package at her door. Inside is a surveillance video showing the murder of a young woman.
Flashbacks reveal that the woman was once married to—and divorced from--a Soviet Army officer. Later she was forced to become a diamond courier.
Meanwhile, Ellie, trying her best to identify the woman on the tape, locks horns with female cop Georgia Davis. When their investigations come together, and when they unearth money laundering by a local banker, directed the Russian mob, they discover this is only the tip of a lucrative – but deadly—iceberg.
Excerpt
The pain rolled over her in waves, especially when air whistled through her mouth. She’d never lost a tooth before; her mouth felt curiously empty. Where had it fallen out? Had they found it? Could they use it to track her? She wouldn’t have thought so, but the pain was fogging her mind. She shook her head as if to banish the thought, but the movement touched off more throbbing. She tried to breathe through her nose.
She brushed her fingers along her jaw. The last time she’d looked in a mirror, she hadn’t recognized herself. She was glad she didn’t have one now. With luck the make-up covered most of the damage.
She walked up to the front door. A house. Not an office or clinic, but a house. Two stories. Brick. Surrounded by others just like it up and down the street. All of them identical, except for the color of the paint and which side the garage sat on.
She took off her dark glasses and rang the bell. They’d told her to be there at fourteen hundred, but it was well past that now. A curtain of dusk was descending, and the air was heavy with the slight metallic smell that precedes snow. She shivered, unfamiliar clothes scratching her skin. Her coat was too flimsy for this bitter cold, but it was all she’d been able to get. She rang the bell again.
She shoved her hands in her pockets, fingering her money. Cash only, they’d said. Dollars. Where were they? Maybe she should look. As she started around to the back, a sudden movement startled her. Fear knifed through her.
It was only a bare branch swaying in the wind. She let out a slow breath as the branch rose and fell, eerily silent in the fading light. Where was the sound? Back home the wind made noise. A whispering breeze or the shriek of a gale, it didn’t sneak up on you. This quiet was unnerving.
She cornered the house. A chain link fence marked the edge of the property. Beyond it lay a field. Spindly clumps of grass poked through gritty snow. A tire lay on its side. The field was so flat civilization seemed to stop at the fence line. This part of the world was like that, she recalled. Something to do with a glacier. Perhaps she really would fall off the edge of the world. Where were the mountains, the lake, the clean, scented air of home?
She found a second door on the side of the house. She pressed her face against the glass. A light shade blocked her view. She shifted her feet. In the thin, flat shoes she was wearing, her toes were already numb. She looked around. No movement. No sound. Nothing to indicate a human presence. She grabbed the doorknob and turned. The door opened easily, and a gust of warm air blew over her. She slipped inside, squeezing her eyes shut in pleasure. She might never have felt anything this good before.
It was a plain but clean room. Wood paneling on three of four walls, a white linoleum floor flecked with brown. Two chairs sat beside a low table. She took off her glasses and sank into a chair, kneading her fingers. She glanced down at her wrist to check the time, momentarily forgetting she’d lost her watch. Without the thick leather band, her tattoo was plainly visible.
She gazed around. The fourth wall, the one that wasn’t paneled, was marred by a thick crack that snaked from floor to ceiling. It reminded her of the winding creek near her grandparents’ home. The one window in the room was covered with the same flimsy material as the door, but a thin strip of light seeped around its edges. Enough to make out a light switch on the opposite wall. She went to it and flipped it on. Shading her eyes against the glare, she saw a door cut into the wall with the crack – she hadn’t seen it before. She tried the knob; it was locked.
Reviews
"A powerful tale..." Publishers Weekly
"Hellmann created a compelling group of believable characters...highly recommended" Chicago Sun Times
“A smashing addition to the series…” Midwest Book Review
Author's Biography
Libby writes the award-winning Chicago-based mystery-thriller series featuring documentary producer and single mother Ellie Foreman. There are 4 novels in the series, starting with the Anthony-nominated An Eye for Murder. Libby was National President of Sisters in Crime. Her next release, Easy Innocence, is a stand-alone PI novel set in Chicago.