Long Fall from Heaven
George Wier, Milton T. Burton
"With an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the historic underbelly of Galveston and a ringing feel for dialogue, Long Fall From Heaven carries us along on a sordid yet seamless narrative of murderous mayhem." —Craig Johnson, author of the Walt Longmire Mysteries
Cueball Boland and Micah Lanscomb—both ex-cops with troubled pasts—stumble into the path of a serial killer. The murderer leads them into the dark history of Galveston when the city was Texas’ Sin City. The killer has roots sunk deep into that history, but the FBI and the old Galveston families don’t want Cueball and Micah to solve the crimes. Listen closely. There’s an echo of another serial killer who stalked the city back during World War II.
George Wier writes like he talks: Texan. In the 1990s he befriended the older novelist Milton T. Burton and the two became close friends. In 1998, Burton, worried about his health, told Wier this story and asked him to be his collaborator and principal writer. The two friends talked back and forth, and Wier wrote the novel. Meanwhile, impatient with the publishing industry, George Wier has very successfully e-published his Bill Travis Mystery Series. He plays classical violin and country fiddle, dabbles in art and photography, and is a born promoter of all that he does. This is his first trade-published novel. He lives in Austin, Texas with his wife Sallie.
Milton T. Burton (1947-2011) authored four crime novels published by Minotaur/Thomas Dunne. Like Wier, Burton was a lifelong Texan who breathed the Texas lingo. Burton had been variously a cattleman, a political consultant, and a college history teacher. A cantankerous but generous man, he liked writing and he liked talking to his friends, especially George Wier. He died in December 2011.
a name. She would simply buy someone off to do it for her. Someone, maybe, she bought off a long time ago when she had him made lieutenant of the Galveston Police Department.” “I don’t know what to say, C.C.” “You don’t have to say anything. The Texas Rangers will be over to your house in a while to talk with you about it. I suggest you cooperate with them. Leland Morgan is already in custody. One would wonder what he’s saying to them about now.” Cueball turned to go. He almost said what was
friend in the Bureau up in Houston run anything I find through the national fingerprint database.” “What about Morgan?” Micah asked. “Do you plan to tell him?” “Eventually.” “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” “Sure, but not right now. I’ve got to think it through first.” “So start thinking,” Micah said. “I will. You go break the news to Jenny.” “I get all the fun stuff, huh?” Cueball sighed and felt a little ashamed of himself. “I don’t relish seeing women cry. But I do
“Galveston Ferry.” He had heard of the town and found the name intriguing. The wait for the ferry was only about five minutes, and the ride over to the Island but a couple of miles. When the boat docked, he drove off and followed the road across a narrow strip of barren land that marked the eastern extremity of the island. The road dead-ended at a broad, four-lane street that was named Seawall Boulevard. He turned right. A mile and a half later, almost as if by instinct, he pulled up in front of
so well. You’re thinking it was one of my own employees or former employees, aren’t you? You’ve been clutching at the idea like a goddamned south sea islander clutches his kona doll ever since you entered old Dave DeMour’s office.” “Maybe I have,” Micah said. “Who else could it have been?” Cueball took a sip of scotch and leaned back in Myrna’s wicker settee. “I got the prints back from Washington two hours ago,” Cueball said. “Those boys work quickly.” “Well, who the hell do they belong to?”
paused for a moment, thinking. “The Penses moved to Houston after the patriarch lost his money. Later, he apparently lost his mind and killed himself. Harrison Lynch never even knew he was related to the DeMours until much later. The story goes that Harrison was a mean little shit from the day he was whelped. There was no love lost between him and the Pense family. Jack was a straight arrow and Harrison was always in trouble. Jack got the good grades while Harrison alternated between flunking