Cincinnati Cougars'' Billy Parks was All-Pro … and missing. Harry Stoner''s job was to find him and get him into shape for the season. But Billy''s photo told Stoner he didn''t like the man … or the shape he was in. The eye revealed a killer mentality—a player who crushed, mangled, and sacked with pleasure. Billy''s disappearing act might be part of a contract dispute or something far more deadly. For Stoner suspected that Billy had become a mean machine who went on scoring in a sordid world of drugs and violence, where death hit with a blind-side tackle … and life lasted only until the final cut.

A phone ringing after midnight means trouble, especially in private eye Harry Stoner''s business. This time the 1:30 call is trouble, all right. A motel clerk wants somebody to pick up the loser registered as Harry Stoner who just tried to kill himself. When the real Stoner gets to the Encantada Motel, he finds his old college roommate nearly dead and too many memories still alive. It''s a suicide attempt that forces Stoner back into his own past, where a pretty woman, a brutal murder, and the bitter remnants of the sixties drug culture make Stoner''s future look rosy…like flowers on a grave.

To PI Harry Stoner, Ira Lessing had everything to live for: money, a beautiful wife, good friends, and a reputation that would do credit to a saint. But Lessing disappeared one hot July night, and Stoner knew in his gut that the man was dead. Years on the street had taught Stoner that no man is what he seems. Peeling away layers to the bone would reveal what had become of Lessing. It would lead Stoner into the underbelly of Cincinnati, into the places where desire and violence meet, into the darkest byways of the human heart where his own values would be tested to the bloody limit, by acts of love—and murder.

Detective Harry Stoner has seen better days. It''s the middle of January and business is slower than a crawl. Curled up in his office with a paperback mystery, a little classical music on the radio, and a bottle of Scotch, Harry''s ready to cut his losses and hibernate until spring. The only problem is that Harry''s been living off Visa credit and Christmas cash, and the money faucet is beginning to run dry.

Enter Leon Tubin, an odd little man with worn trousers but a pocketful of cash. Leon''s a collector of vintage LP recordings and he''s sure another member of his music-listening group is ripping him off. They''re all jealous of his record library, especially his Wagner-loving rival, Sherwood Loeffler. It seems to be nickel-and-dime stuff to Harry but Leon insists that the recordings in question are worth about ten thousand dollars. Convincing arguments are one thing, an advance of five crisp one-hundred-dollar bills is another. Harry takes the case.

After interviews with Leon''s music-loving cronies, Harry is struck by their obsessive audio compulsions but almost positive that when it comes to grand theft, they are all on the up-and-up. It''s Leon''s blond bombshell of a wife, Sheila, who has Harry doing a double take. What''s a woman like her doing with a wimp like Leon? Sheila confides that Leon saved her years before from her days as a swizzle-stick lounge singer, and out of loyalty and true love she''d do anything to protect him. But what does Sheila''s past have to do with a bunch of stolen records? A bizarre trail of clues emerges but, in the end, Harry finds his case won''t be completely resolved even though he''s heard the fat lady sing over and over again.

Cincinnati Cougars'' Billy Parks was All-Pro … and missing. Harry Stoner''s job was to find him and get him into shape for the season. But Billy''s photo told Stoner he didn''t like the man … or the shape he was in. The eye revealed a killer mentality—a player who crushed, mangled, and sacked with pleasure. Billy''s disappearing act might be part of a contract dispute or something far more deadly. For Stoner suspected that Billy had become a mean machine who went on scoring in a sordid world of drugs and violence, where death hit with a blind-side tackle … and life lasted only until the final cut.

A phone ringing after midnight means trouble, especially in private eye Harry Stoner''s business. This time the 1:30 call is trouble, all right. A motel clerk wants somebody to pick up the loser registered as Harry Stoner who just tried to kill himself. When the real Stoner gets to the Encantada Motel, he finds his old college roommate nearly dead and too many memories still alive. It''s a suicide attempt that forces Stoner back into his own past, where a pretty woman, a brutal murder, and the bitter remnants of the sixties drug culture make Stoner''s future look rosy…like flowers on a grave.

To PI Harry Stoner, Ira Lessing had everything to live for: money, a beautiful wife, good friends, and a reputation that would do credit to a saint. But Lessing disappeared one hot July night, and Stoner knew in his gut that the man was dead. Years on the street had taught Stoner that no man is what he seems. Peeling away layers to the bone would reveal what had become of Lessing. It would lead Stoner into the underbelly of Cincinnati, into the places where desire and violence meet, into the darkest byways of the human heart where his own values would be tested to the bloody limit, by acts of love—and murder.

Detective Harry Stoner has seen better days. It''s the middle of January and business is slower than a crawl. Curled up in his office with a paperback mystery, a little classical music on the radio, and a bottle of Scotch, Harry''s ready to cut his losses and hibernate until spring. The only problem is that Harry''s been living off Visa credit and Christmas cash, and the money faucet is beginning to run dry.

Enter Leon Tubin, an odd little man with worn trousers but a pocketful of cash. Leon''s a collector of vintage LP recordings and he''s sure another member of his music-listening group is ripping him off. They''re all jealous of his record library, especially his Wagner-loving rival, Sherwood Loeffler. It seems to be nickel-and-dime stuff to Harry but Leon insists that the recordings in question are worth about ten thousand dollars. Convincing arguments are one thing, an advance of five crisp one-hundred-dollar bills is another. Harry takes the case.

After interviews with Leon''s music-loving cronies, Harry is struck by their obsessive audio compulsions but almost positive that when it comes to grand theft, they are all on the up-and-up. It''s Leon''s blond bombshell of a wife, Sheila, who has Harry doing a double take. What''s a woman like her doing with a wimp like Leon? Sheila confides that Leon saved her years before from her days as a swizzle-stick lounge singer, and out of loyalty and true love she''d do anything to protect him. But what does Sheila''s past have to do with a bunch of stolen records? A bizarre trail of clues emerges but, in the end, Harry finds his case won''t be completely resolved even though he''s heard the fat lady sing over and over again.