«- Non. C'est fini. D'ailleurs c'est interdit par le règlement. Je ne tiens pas à me faire vider pour un malheureux béguin avec un simple matelot...  - Ah ! C'est donc ça !  Dans la pénombre du poste radar, il la vit avancer la main vers la poignée de la porte. Brusquement, il lui saisit le bras.  - Lâche-moi, sinon j'appelle... Tu sais ce qui se passe quand une infirmière crie : au viol ?»

Panique a bord

Manhattan blues - Occasion

Outside the 87th Precinct a stranger stands in the falling snow. A big man with big hands, Roger hesitates: He knows he should go in and tell a policeman about what happened the night before; about Molly, the homely girl he met in a bar and brought back to his rented room. But then again...The snow falls on the city. Pushers, pimps, and working stiffs come and go. Roger tries to make up his mind. And every second that he hesitates takes him one step farther away from the 87th Precinct station, as another second ticks away on an innocent woman's life...

Entre deux chaises

By day the city works. By night it plays, and everyone is invited to the game: the rich the poor, the adventurous and the tame. Sometimes, the playground turns deadly. Sometimes, the homicide detectives from the 87th Precinct are invited, too...Sadie When She DiedThe victim had a knife plunged in her chest. The husband was glad, and didn't hide it. From the beginning, Detective Carella is sure someone was hired to make the murder look like an interrupted robbery. Then the dead woman's secrets begin to come out of the closet. Now happily married, Steve Carella and unhappily single Bert Kling are entering a city's sexual underground to find out which is more dangerous: a world where anything goes or a husband with secrets of his own.Page Numbers Source ISBN: 1477805613

Après Le Trépas (87th Precinct, #26)

Carella, Meyer Meyer et tous les flics du 87? butinent le bitume, fréquentent les coulisses des théâtres, font des descentes dans les garnis des drogués, poursuivent les obsédés. Décidément la ville d'Isola est un vrai sac-poubelle...

Nid de poulets

"Bloody palmprints. He would always remember seeing first the bloody prints, one on each side of the glass-paneled doors. And then the doors swinging open and the girl spilling into the room. Arms wide, hands imploring . . . blue dress torn open over white blood-smeared bra, she lurched toward the muster desk, beseeching Kling to help, for God's sake, help."The girl was Patricia Lowery, fifteen years old. She was the lucky one. Soon after, they found her cousin, Muriel Stark, seventeen, lying in a doorway, her body ripped with knife wounds. Hysterically, Patricia talked to Detectives Steve Carella and Bert Kling of the 87th Precinct, telling her brutal story of molestation and murder. The man was tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed, she said; he had a knife blade four inches long, she would never forget what he looked like, what he made them do.Immediately, Kling and Carella set out to find the killer, launching interrogations, file searches, laboratory analyses -- all the weapons of investigation at their command. The twisting, blood-spotted trail leads them deep into the warped world of the sex offender. Then, click. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes, phony alibi. And a positive identification from Patricia: "I said I'd never forget."There's only one problem. He's the wrong man.

Adieu Cousine... (87th Precinct, #32)

Ed McBain is the only American winner of the coveted Diamond Dagger Award, and he is also a past recipient of the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master Award. So, when a reader picks up the latest installment of McBain's 87th Precinct series, the bar is set pretty high. But with The Big Bad City, McBain meets expectations.  In the opening pages, Steve Carella and Artie Brown return to the department with 9 basketball players (the 10th player was murdered) only to discover a knife fight erupting in a holding cell. It's a steamy August night, and Carella and Detective Parker end up having to shoot one of the fighters to cool things down. Then Meyer and Kling enter the scene; they're hot in pursuit of the Cookie Boy, a thief who leaves chocolate-chip cookies at every crime sight. Before the interminable day is done, Carella and Brown are called out to Grover Park to investigate a homicide. A nun has been strangled to death, but she's no ordinary Sister. She's got signs of a breast augmentation operation that hint at a sordid past. Finally, readers are privy to a conversation between Juju and Sonny. Sonny killed a cop's dad, and Juju is convinced that the police will bend the rules to see that Sonny winds up dead. Juju insists that the only way out of the death trap is to kill the cop first. The officer's name is Steve Carella. And all of this happens in the first 15 pages. McBain is one of the artists of the police procedural. Though his city is fictional, it breathes with the darkness and gritty reality of many American cities. He enters the minds and hearts of his characters to uncover the daily insecurities that accompany the work of policemen. Readers new to the 87th Precinct will want to venture back to such tales as 1956's Cop Hater, 1964's Ax, and 1965's Doll, among the 47 installments in this series. Those who've been along for the ride will be happy they did not give up their seat. --Patrick O'Kelley

La Cité Sans Sommeil (87th Precinct, #49)

«Il guettait la jeune femme qui, pour une fois, lui paraissait jolie. Elle était seule et le sac qu'elle portait en bandoulière sur l'épaule semblait lourd... Le coup rêvé...Il s'avança sans bruit et si vivement qu'elle n'eut pas le temps de crier. Son bras lui encercla la gorge et il l'entraîna dans la ruelle.- Pas un mot ! souffla-t-il, tout en la coinçant contre le mur de brique. Son poing partit au même instant, s'écrasa sur la figure de la femme. Ensuite, ce fut un jeu d'enfant de lui arracher son sac... et de s'incliner gracieusement devant elle en déclarant :- Clifford vous remercie, madame !»

Le sonneur

Quel est donc le lien qui réunit les deux affaires dont s'occupent les inspecteurs du 87? District ? D'une part, un comique de télé empoisonné sur le plateau. De l'autre, un obsédé inconnu qui persécute une jeune fille et risque de la tuer en lui témoignant sa flamme. Rien ne semble relier ces deux enquêtes. Sinon, en fait, la patience, la passion, l'ingéniosité, l'astuce des divers flics qui s'y sont attelés, pauvres types toujours harassés, mais qui ne s'avouent jamais vaincus.

Panique a bord

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