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Website of Thomas Haftmann, Raimo Jarvi, & Jade Hui
Category:
Action/Thriller
Publisher: New Pulp Press
ISBN-10: 1955036918
Type: Fiction
Pages: 316
Copyright: October 1, 2025
ISBN-13: 9781955036917
Price: $24.45 (eBook)
A young Tom Haftmann is looking for a career while working as a glorified clerk in his uncle's private-investigation office. He won't be bored for long.
How does a 27-year-old, restless bachelor trying to make it as a private eye intersect with a social misfit, who happens to be a Great Lakes sailor, with serious anger management problems? That is the subject of an unreleased FBI report about an attempted terrorist act aboard a Great Lakes freighter in Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan … and it is the spine-tingling story told in The Dearborn Terrorist Plot.
Excerpt
Bob Lo Island in the Detroit River, MI/August 10, 12:05 p.m.
Mitch Grebski waited until his boat, the steamship J. Beaufort Göttlieb, with its load of iron ore pellets destined for Northtown Harbor on Lake Erie, was fogbound in the Detroit River before he
opened Libby’s letter. He had no expectations of finding anything
interesting in it. He tried to insinuate she wrote too much while he was on the water and he didn’t like being obligated to write back.
He refused to waste money on a cell phone. He told her the crew
complained all the time about no reception on the water and how
lousy it was in port.
“You want to write letters, find a convict in Lucasville. Lots of
lonely guys there.”
That was a dig at her husband, a jailbird and lowlife Grebski
despised. Lucasville was where Ohio Parole Board sent its worst
criminals.
“See if I write you when you wind up there, asshole.”
Libby’s rebuke had some merit. Grebski had a violent temper and a
propensity to unleash it. He knew how to scrap and he was possessed of a rat’s cunning when it came to evading punishment.
She lived in Riverton, a small, depressed town near the Ohio River
once named Mystic in error when English residents coming after the first French trappers mistook their gruff, dismissive term “infesté moustiques”—“mosquito infested”—as a term of approval. The town’s name was changed to Riverton in the early nineteenth-century, and
there it remained for decades: a semi-industrialized city with a plastics
manufacturing base for the Michigan car companies with a few farms
holding with rotting barns and empty corn silos tucked between.
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