Fans of the brave and erudite Lawrence Kingston will savor his latest breakneck botanical adventure.
-Publisher's Weekly
Lawrence Kingston, retired professor, bon vivant, and would-be sleuth, is asked to help search for a botanist friend who has gone missing. With nothing but a scrap of paper with a bewildering cryptic message, he begins to investigate.
Using what he terms his ‘Times crossword logic,’ he discovers that his friend was experimenting with aquatic plants and has stumbled upon a horticultural breakthrough with staggering implications. The unprecedented discovery could benefit countless lives in undeveloped countries, generating billions of dollars globally.
Learning that influential and malicious people are involved in his friend’s disappearance, Kingston is loath to continue. But before he can turn back, he becomes inextricably ensnared in a web of bizarre incidents, and unexplained murders. Too late to quit, and deceived by a duplicitous femme fatale, circumstances spiral out of control, plunging him deeper into jeopardy in a corporate world of ruthless men who won’t be stopped. Kingston presses on, knowing that his missing friend’s life and his own hang by a very slender thread.
Excerpt
At first Kingston thought nothing of the tiny flashes coming from the edge of what looked like a farm. Then, over the noise of the engine, he heard the sound of something hitting the fuselage under them. In a few seconds he realized what was happening. Someone was firing at them.
Chris Norton shot him an alarmed look as he put the chopper through a violent emergency maneuver that thrust Kingston into his seat back. For a moment they were climbing rapidly, the engine screaming at maximum power, then banking at an impossible angle. Straightening up, Chris ran his eyes over the instrument cluster then looked at Kingston again.
“Sod it! We’re losing fuel. Crazy bastard!”
Kingston knew what it portended but wasn’t exactly sure how serious it might be. Given the circumstances, he was surprised that he was not shaking like jelly. “Do we have enough to make a landing somewhere?”
“We’ll know in a few seconds,” said Chris. If we have to go to autorotation, we’ve got to find a place to land, real quick.” No sooner than the words had left his mouth than the engine coughed and the fuselage shuddered. Less than half a minute later, the engine spluttered, then died. It was eerily quiet as the helicopter continued its forward motion, the rotor blades propelled by the air forced through them.
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