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JEWELS TO KILL FOR
Jack Dillon Dublin Tales Book 15
BY MIKE FARICY
Jewels to Kill For is the 15th book in the Jack Dillon Dublin Tales series.
US Marshal Jack Dillon, assigned to An Garda Síochána Special Branch, and his partner DI Paddy Suel, are investigating a third ‘random’ murder, in as many days, in the Finglas section of Dublin. It turns out DI Suel grew up in the same neighborhood and knew the third victim and his siblings.
The following day a fourth victim is murdered.
There seems to be no relationship between any of the victims until the Tech Lab examines some photos on the victim’s cell phones. But that still doesn’t answer the questions Who is doing the killing and why?
If only they could find someone even remotely involved . . .
THE JACK DILLON DUBLIN TALES SERIES IS WRITTEN BY MIKE FARICY AND WAS ORIGINALLY RELEASED UNDER THE PSEUDONYM, PATRICK EMMETT. FARICY ALSO WRITES THE AWARD-WINNING DEV HASKELL SERIES, THE CORRIDOR MAN SERIES, AND THE HOTSHOT SERIES.
Interview & Excerpt
Hi Karen, Thank you for having me.
My books have been nominated for the Killer Nashville Silver Falchion Award. I received The Poison Cup Award from The Crime Masters of America, two Best Selling Mystery Series Awards from the Crime Masters of America, and four Book of the Month awards from the Irish Gazette.
I have four crime fiction series;
The Dev Haskell Private Investigator series, currently thirty-three books, is set in my hometown of St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s written with a sense of humor, and along with my chief protagonist Dev Haskell, there are three other recurring characters. Dev’s office mate, an attorney named Louie Laufen, who deals with DUI cases. His childhood pal, Lieutenant Aaron LaZelle, who heads up the local Homicide Department, and the local crime lord, an individual by the name of Tubby Gustafson. Dev has a relationship with a different woman in each book. At the end of the book, they basically tell him to, ‘Please, never call me again, ever.’ I write three or four books annually in this series.
My Jack Dillon Dublin Tales series is set in Dublin, Ireland. Jack Dillon is a US Marshal who, through a series of events, is assigned to the Dublin police force, An Garda Síochána, Special Branch. I write three or four books annually in this series.
My Corridor Man series consists of ten books set in St. Paul, Minnesota. Disbarred attorney Bobby Custer is my chief protagonist. He obtains an early release from prison after promising to work with federal authorities. I describe him as psychotic, sociopathic, and always charming. Of my four series, the Corridor Man series is the most gritty and violent.
My Hotshot series consists of five stand-alone crime fiction novels. All set in St. Paul, Minnesota, and written with a humorous twist.
I’m originally from St. Paul, Minnesota, where I live part of the time. I also live in Dublin, Ireland. Hence the Jack Dillon Dublin Tales series. More about this series and my latest release below.
How did I get into writing?
Ever since I was a little boy, I’ve enjoyed books. As children, my parents brought us to the library every week, and we could pick out books. They read to us every night before bedtime. My favorite book was George the Pig. George wouldn’t share his birthday cake, and on the last page of the book, he explodes from eating too much cake. I read books growing up and began writing ‘Award Winning’ first chapters for a number of years. After maybe fifty first chapters, I decided it was time to either fish or cut bait. I had to actually write a book or stop wasting paper.
I wrote my first mystery and somehow arranged to meet St. Paul resident and New York Times Bestselling author William Kent Kruger for lunch. At the end of our lunch, I hauled out my two-hundred-and-ninety-page manuscript and asked him if he’d like to read it. He held his hands up and said, “No!” He then went on to explain that all writers have a book that they keep under the bed. The more I thought about that, the more I decided under the bed was probably a good place for my initial work of genius.
That said, I went on to write six stand-alone crime fiction novels. I had three children at home at the time, so I wrote in the dark, either late at night or before sunrise. With each book, I would dutifully send out eighty to a hundred query letters to traditional publishers along with a self-addressed, stamped envelope in order to receive my rejection in a timely manner. It was on the sixth book that my query letter to, in those days, one of the five major New York publishers was returned to me. The envelope had a large purple stamp across the front that read ‘Return to Sender.’
On the back of the envelope was a handwritten note that said, ‘This does not fit our needs at this time.’ The envelope had never been opened. It suddenly dawned on me that Mike Faricy from St. Paul, Minnesota, didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell with these people. But, there was a side gate into the publishing playground, eBooks and independent publishing were just beginning to come alive. I had covers made and eventually put all six of my books out on Amazon. I haven’t looked back.
Most of my friends thought I was crazy. That probably wasn’t far from the truth, but I stuck with it.
I’ve been writing full-time for a number of years, working seven days a week. I currently produce six or seven books per year. My novels are filled with the sort of oddballs we’re all curious about, but wisely prefer to keep at a distance. My characters serve not so much as an example as they do a warning to all of us. None of them will be saving the world from terrorism, international banking conspiracies, or coups to take over the government. Rather, my characters inhabit a world just below the surface of polite society. The circumstances they find themselves in are usually due to bad decisions, but then bad decisions make for interesting stories. I currently have 74 books, 27 box sets, and I just sent off my latest book in my Dev Haskell series to my editors.
I write for crabby old guys like myself, but my readers are largely women. My mornings are usually spent on marketing and interacting with authors and readers. From noon until the evening, I’m writing. This, no doubt, makes me the most boring guy in town. I’m blessed to be able to work at something I love to do. I encourage anyone starting out to stay with it. Writing is a tough, crazy business that changes constantly, and I love it.
I hear from two or three traditional publishers over the course of any year, but after looking at the numbers, I continue to remain indie.
I live in Dublin for five to six months of the year which has given me a good deal of local knowledge. Not only the basics such as locations, streets, neighborhoods, etc. But also the more subtle things, like how a pint of Guinness is ordered in a pub, how it’s poured, bus routes, local laws, tv programs, and speech patterns.
My most recent book in the Jack Dillon Dublin Tales series, Jewels to Kill For, released just a week ago on February 7. It’s the fifteenth book in the series. Jack Dillon is a US Marshal assigned to the Special Branch unit of the Dublin Police, An Garda Síochána. Dillon and his partner, Paddy Suel, are investigating a series of four murders in Dublin, Ireland that occur within four days. There’s no apparent relationship between the victims, and the murders initially appear to be random.
Dillon lives with his dog, Lucifer, in an attached two-story home in an area on the north side of Dublin called Glasnevin. Being a member of the Special Branch unit, he is not assigned to a specific area of Dublin. He and his partner investigate difficult cases or aid in situations all over Dublin.
In Jewels to Kill For the initial investigation suggests that the four murders are indeed random. Dillon and Suel are eventually able to uncover a series of links that begin to suggest a pattern. It’s up to them to tie the murders together and then, against all odds, hopefully find a suspect. In the sample below, they’ve just been assigned to help investigate what appear to be another random murder. They’ve arrived on the scene of the third murder in as many days. The victim is in the drivers seat of a Mercedes parked in front of a council housing project, (low income housing). Dillon and Suel are speaking to Detective Inspector Egan.
. . . “We heard you’ve been busy. Unfortunately, DCI McCabe mentioned this isn’t the first incident,” Dillon said.
Egan shook his head. “The third in as many days. No ID on your man, but I’m guessing it’s somehow related to the other two. We’re thinking maybe there’s a bit of a flare-up between some locals and perhaps a Russian group.”
“No idea who your man is? Have you thought about running the car license?” Suel said.
“Well, now, there you go. Why didn’t we think of that? Great advice from Special Branch. Dillon, my condolences. You’ve got a lot of work to do bringing your partner up to speed, but you probably know that already.
“Yeah, Paddy, we’ve been waiting on the information. A new computer system, and if you can believe it, it’s temporarily down. Take a look at him. I’m guessing mid to late thirties. No billfold. The insurance and license information was torn off the windscreen. It’s beyond strange. We’ll find out who he is soon enough. You can see where they tore the holder off the inside of the windshield.”
Dillon glanced over at the passenger side of the car. In Ireland, there’s a cardboard strip called a disc holder attached to the inside of the windshield. Usually provided by the insurance company, it has pockets that hold an insurance disc, a tax disc, and an NCT (National Car Testing) disc. Now just the remnants of the strip were stuck to the windshield. Definitely torn off, Dillon thought.
“Is there a weapon on your man?” Suel asked just as two men wheeled a gurney over.
Egan shook his head.
Dillon glanced over at the gurney, recognized Noel Leonard from Dublin City Morgue, and said, “Oh, hey, Noel, good to see you.”
“Dillon, always a pleasure. How you been keeping?”
“Good, good, thanks for asking. And you?”
“The same, not a bother. Getting up close and personal with DI Egan here over the last few days.” Leonard looked over at Egan and said, “Okay with you if we take your man? We’ve got photographs and stats.”
Egan nodded and said, “Yeah, go ahead. We’ve taken his prints but wouldn’t mind if you run them, too.”
“Standard procedure,” Leonard said.
The body was leaning forward with the right shoulder against the steering wheel, partially holding the man up. The victim’s hair was black, cut close on the side and longer on top, partially covering what little of the face Dillon could see. The head was down and turned slightly, with the face more or less hidden either by the long black hair or the console.
Leonard and his partner wore blue latex gloves. They opened the driver’s door, lowered the gurney, and quickly stretched out and opened the black plastic body bag.
Leonard took hold of the collar on the victim’s jacket and pulled him up and back into a sitting position. As he did so, the long black hair fell away from his face exposing the entry wound on the right side of his skull and the exit wound that was just above the left eye. He reached beneath the arms of the body and began to pull him partially out of the vehicle. As soon as he took a step back, his assistant reached in, grabbed the body by the belt buckle, and then angled the body back and forth, gradually working the legs over the seat and out of the car.
They laid the body on the gurney, and just as they took hold of the sides of the body bag, Suel shouted, “Wait a damn minute. I, I know this knacker.”
“Suel, are you sure?” Egan asked and shot a look at Suel.
“Jesus Christ, and no surprise. Neil Kinan. I’m sure of it. I know the family. Grew up with them. Pull the jacket up on his right arm. There should be a tattoo on his forearm, a Celtic cross with the flag draped over it.”
Leonard reached down and began to inch up the sleeve of the black leather jacket, suddenly, there it was, the base of a Celtic cross. He hiked the sleeve up further until both ends of the Irish flag appeared, one side green, the other orange.
“That’s good enough for me,” Suel said. “I haven’t seen him in years. I know he did two or three years in Mountjoy. That was probably six or eight years ago. He was a good kid who took a number of bad turns. Damn it.”
“No weapon,” Noel Leonard said and then looked up at DI Egan. “Okay to close the bag?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Egan looked over at Suel and Dillon. “Thus far, none of the residents we contacted saw or heard anything. In other words, no one’s talking.”
“Any idea why he was here?”
Egan shook his head. “Could be anything from meeting someone in the parking lot to paying one of the residents for a night of pleasure. At this stage, no idea, and, like I said, no one is talking, yet.”
Wishing everyone all success and all the very best.
Thank you. Mike
The Dirty Lowdown called Mike Faricy America’s hottest new mystery writer.
The Irish Gazette referred to him as Minnesota’s Master of the Bizarre.
Crime Scene referred to him as the next Carl Hiaasen.
Links to Mike’s website, blog, books, #ad, etc.
Thanks, Mike, for sharing your book with us!
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!