Discipline is a terrifying psychological thriller set in Philadelphia during a brutal winter of cold snowstorms.
Detective Savrini must find the murderer of three young girls but he pursues his deviant urges rather than solve crimes. He sports a week-end’s growth of beard that masks the handsome face said to resemble a fat Gene Hackman. In a torn police-requisitioned tee shirt he lies sprawled next to his wife Bea. Both are reclined, comfortable in their worn deep red velvet squishy sofa. Four bare feet rest on an oblong maroon hassock that doubles as a coffee table his right hand busy inside his pajama bottoms. He reeks of sweat and stinky feet, she of stale Jean Nate.
He wonders what Bea thinks. Is her mind a blank or filled with incoherent thoughts and memories that float like ice cubes in a glass of water?
Their faces flicker, lit by the TV. Jeopardy blares but neither watches. This audience has no answers.
RRRng. The phone jolts their reverie. Dispatch beckons into the “now.”
“What? Got to be kidding! Maria. Slow down! Three of them? Nude? Address? Be there.”
“Yeah, Murphy panicked… Said he found three corpses in the teacher’s living room--all young all nude…. Said the bodies were there…maybe few days. Said he was surprised the interior lights were full on… lit up like a party, bodies like Swiss cheese… holes everywhere.
Discipline is not PC and not for the squeamish. It’s in living color and smell and captivates to the last page. A must read for mystery lovers.
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