. . and sorcery. Welcome to Low Town.In the forgotten back alleys and flophouses that lie in the shadows of Rigus, the finest city of the Thirteen Lands, you will find Low Town. It is an ugly place, and its cham­pion is an ugly man. Disgraced intelligence agent. Forgotten war hero. Independent drug dealer. After a fall from grace five years ago, a man known as the Warden leads a life of crime, addicted to cheap violence and expensive drugs. Every day is a constant hustle to find new customers and protect his turf from low-life competition like Tancred the Harelip and Ling Chi, the enigmatic crime lord of the heathens.The Warden’s life of drugged iniquity is shaken by his dis­covery of a murdered child down a dead-end street . . . set­ting him on a collision course with the life he left behind. As a former agent with Black House—the secret police—he knows better than anyone that murder in Low Town is an everyday thing, the kind of crime that doesn’t get investi­gated. To protect his home, he will take part in a dangerous game of deception between underworld bosses and the psy­chotic head of Black House, but the truth is far darker than he imagines. In Low Town, no one can be trusted.Daniel Polansky has crafted a thrilling novel steeped in noir sensibilities and relentless action, and set in an original world of stunning imagination, leading to a gut-wrenching, unforeseeable conclusion. Low Town is an attention-grabbing debut that will leave readers riveted . . . and hun­gry for more.

    David Young is a lieutenant in the United States Naval Reserve, returning to active duty. On his way to Norfolk Naval Base in the middle of the night, Young hitches a ride with Lawrence Wilson, an ill-tempered man who explains how he was recently fired from the Navy Department for alleged seditious activities. Young is suddenly attacked by the stranger and loses consciousness. When he awakens, he is laying in a hospital bed with his head wrapped in bandages. The nurse calls him "Mr. Wilson" and informs him that he is lucky to be alive after such a horrific car accident. Things get even stranger when his supposed wife -- a brunette bombshell named Elizabeth -- checks the still-sedated Young out of the hospital and takes him home. Without even realizing it, Young becomes the main target of a killer -- or killers -- involved in an intricate Communist plot that threatens the security of the nation. It's a testament to Hamilton's narrative brilliance that Night Walker is just as wildly compelling today as it was when it was originally released in 1954. This timeless pulp classic has it all: down-and-dirty fall guys, sexy damsels in distress, sadistic villains, elaborate conspiracies -- an absolute must-read for any and all discerning connoisseurs of mystery. Paul Goat AllenCover art for Dell First Edition 27 by Carl Bobertz

    It was the tragic story of the year - a little boy, Aiden, wandered away from school during a terrible flood, fell into the river, and drowned.  His body was never recovered.  Ten years later, Emma has finally rediscovered the joy in life. She's married, pregnant, and in control again...... until Aiden returns. Too traumatized to speak, he raises endless questions and answers none. Only his body tells the story of his decade-long disappearance. The historic broken bones and injuries cast a mere glimpse into the horrors Aiden has experienced. Aiden never drowned. Aiden was taken. As Emma attempts to reconnect with her now teenage son, she must unmask the monster who took him away from her. But who, in their tiny village, could be capable of such a crime?It's Aiden who has the answers, but he cannot tell the unspeakable.This dark and disturbing psychological novel will appeal to fans of The Widow and The Butterfly Garden.

    It has been seven years since she disappeared, and nobody said a word. Now, following the death of his wife, her father Leon feels compelled to find her. Rumour had it she ran off when her baby boy was born with the family's genetic disorder. Leon is not so sure. He wants to know the truth and he hires a private investigator to discover it - Ray Lovell. Ray starts to delve deeper, but his investigation is hampered by the very people who ought to be helping him - the Jankos. He cannot understand their reluctance to help. Why don't they want to find Rose Janko?

    Out of prison, but still on parole, the only thing he wants is to keep his head down, go to work and maybe grab a cold beer at the end of his shift. He doesn't even care that the program stuck him in Essex - a nice, but nowhere small town. With his head already full of bloody and painful memories, he'd like it just fine if his past and future stayed nice and quiet.Too bad the present just got really messy.A body in a tree. A missing briefcase. A Russian hit man. A DEA agent bent on revenge. A corrupt mayor. Not to mention a sheriff with dangerous ambition. A meth lab in the woods. And some pissed off bikers. Things are suddenly very interesting in sleepy Essex county. Bodies are turning up. Secrets are coming out. Questions are being asked. Fingers are being pointed. It's not good being the new guy in a small town.

    Not a good sign for Andrew Kindler, who just came from back east to get away from his past–as an arsonist. In fact, almost from the moment he sets foot in his cousin’s Santa Monica beach house, the heat starts swirling around him. First there’s the cop who thinks Andrew might know something about a murder suspect. Then there’s the suspect’s beautiful sister, who is willing to pay Andrew $5,000 for the same information.But Andrew really uninformed. And with a sensational murder case burning a hole in the gut of the LAPD–as well as the star-studded L.A. fitness industry–ignorance is dangerous. Now Andrew must solve a murder he knows nothing about, find a killer he’s never met, and unravel a family’s explosive secret. His reward for success? To live another day: one step ahead of his burning past... “An exceptionally well-crafted and well-told tale of arson, police work, misplaced zeal, bad relationships, good relationships, family bonds and, oh yes, exercise videos. Quirky, compelling, intelligent, and funny ... If you like Elmore Leonard, do yourself a favor and pick up BURN.”–Lincoln Journal Star “A cult writer for the masses–hip, smart and so mordantly funny that the casual reader might be laughing too hard to realize just how thoughtful Doolittle’s work is. Get on the bandwagon now.”–Laura Lippman, author of By a Spider’s Thread “Sean Doolittle combines wit, good humor, and a generosity of spirit rare in mystery fiction to create novels that are both engrossing and strangely uplifting. He deserves to take his place among the best in the genre.”–John Connolly, author of The White Road“An estimable addition not only to the publisher’s list but also to crime fiction ... Doolittle delivers a briskly plotted, hard-boiled mystery that has its roots in the Elmore Leonard school of dark comedy.”–South Florida Sun-Sentinel·Gold medal winner for mystery in ForeWord Magazine’s Book of the Year Award·A Best Crime Fiction of 2003 pick from January Magazine

    Is your daughter involved, or is she next?Your daughter is in danger. But can you trust her?When Karen Finch’s seventeen-year-old daughter Sophie arrives home after a night out, drunk and accompanied by police officers, no one is smiling the morning after. But Sophie remembers nothing about how she got into such a state.Twelve hours later, Sophie’s friend Amy has still not returned home. Then the body of a young woman is found.Karen is sure that Sophie knows more than she is letting on. But Karen has her own demons to fight. She struggles to go beyond her own door without a panic attack.As she becomes convinced that Sophie is not only involved but also in danger, Karen must confront her own anxieties to stop whoever killed one young girl moving on to another – Sophie.A taut psychological thriller, perfect for fans of The Girl on the Train and I Let You Go.

    Imagine a Raymond Carver or Jim Thompson for the text message age and that would only begin to get it."-Kris Saknussemm, author of Reverend America Trapped in a rural Oklahoma town fueled by meth and doused in codeine, Arlo Clancy has made it his life's goal to keep his troubled younger brother, Sepp, out of prison. Poverty and the lure of easy drug money were pressure enough, before a gruesome discovery beneath the waters of their favorite fishing hole sent their lives into a tailspin. Torn by cowardice and conscience, the brothers make a fateful decision which will bring them ever-closer to Danny Ames-a vicious enforcer for the local meth trade-and a nightmare world where their only chance of escape might be... LOW DOWN DEATH RIGHT EASY "Working class fiction at its best."-Benjamin Whitmer, author of Pike "A gritty tapestry of subversive drama the likes of which I'd compare to Harmony Korine's Gummo packed in with the terse lines of Bukowski."-Michael J. Seidlinger, author of My Pet Serial Killer

    But then a strange car pulled up to their street. One boy got into the car, two did not, and something terrible happened -- something that ended their friendship and changed all three boys forever.Twenty-five years later, Sean is a homicide detective. Jimmy is an ex-con who owns a corner store. And Dave is trying to hold his marriage together and keep his demons at bay -- demons that urge him to do terrible things. When Jimmy's daughter is found murdered, Sean is assigned to the case. His investigation brings him into conflict with Jimmy, who finds his old criminal impulses tempt him to solve the crime with brutal justice. And then there is Dave, who came home the night Jimmy's daughter died covered in someone else's blood.A tense and unnerving psychological thriller, Mystic River is also an epic novel of love and loyalty, faith and family, in which people irrevocably marked by the past find themselves on a collision course with the darkest truths of their own hidden selves.

    First published in 1935, this novel reaffirmed James M. Cain as a virtuoso of the roman noir.

    For the oddballs and lowlifes who inhabit the sleepy, working class bayou town of Jeannette,  these desperate circumstances serve as the catalyst that pushes them to enact whatever risky schemes they can dream up to reverse their fortunes. At the center of it all is Gus Lindquist, a pill-addicted, one armed treasure hunter obsessed with finding the lost treasure of pirate Jean Lafitte. His quest brings him into contact with a wide array of memorable characters, ranging from a couple of small time criminal potheads prone to hysterical banter, to the smooth-talking Oil company middleman out to bamboozle his own mother, to some drug smuggling psychopath twins, to a young man estranged from his father since his mother died in Hurricane Katrina. As the story progresses, these characters find themselves on a collision course with each other, and as the tension and action ramp up, it becomes clear that not all of them will survive these events.

    That’s the mantra behind HR, Inc., an elite "placement agency" that doubles as a network of assassins-for-hire, taking down high-profile executives who wouldn't be able to remember an intern’s name if their lives depended on it.At the ripe old age of twenty-five, John Lago is already New York City’s most successful hit man. He’s also an intern at a prestigious Manhattan law firm, clocking eighty hours a week getting coffee, answering phones, and doing all the grunt work no one else wants to do. But he isn't trying to claw his way to the top of the corporate food chain. He was hired to assassinate one of the firm’s heavily guarded partners. His internship is the perfect cover, enabling him to gather intel and gain access in order to pull off a clean, untraceable hit.The Intern’s Handbook is John Lago's unofficial survival guide for new recruits at HR, Inc. (Rule #4: "Learn how to make the perfect cup of coffee: you make an exec the best coffee he’s ever had, and he will make sure you’re at his desk every morning for a repeat performance. That’s repetitive exposure, which begets access and trust. 44% of my kills came from my superior coffee-making abilities.")Part confessional, part how-to, the handbook chronicles John’s final assignment, a twisted thrill ride in which he is pitted against the toughest—and sexiest—adversary he’s ever faced: Alice, an FBI agent assigned to take down the same law partner he’s been assigned to kill.

    The open house is slow, but when her last visitor pulls up in a van as she's about to leave, Annie thinks it just might be her lucky day after all. Still Missing interweaves the year Annie spent as the captive of a psychopath in a remote mountain cabin, which unfold through sessions with her psychiatrist, with a second narrative following the events after her escape—her struggle to piece her shattered life back together and the ongoing police investigation into the identity of her captor.Still Missing is a shocking, visceral, brutal and beautifully crafted novel.

    This is where Jude McManus works as an executive protection specialist, currently assigned to an American engineer working for a U.S. consortium.Ten years before, at age seventeen, he saw his father and two Chicago cop colleagues arrested for robbing street dealers. The family fell apart in the scandal’s wake, his disgraced dad died under suspicious circumstances, and Jude fled Chicago to join the army and forge a new life.Now the past returns when one of his father’s old pals appears. The man is changed–he’s scarred, regretful, self-aware–and he helps Jude revisit the past with a forgiving eye. Then he asks a favor–not for himself, but for the third member of his dad’s old crew. Even though it’s ill-considered, Jude agrees, thinking he can oblige the request and walk away, unlike his father. But he underestimates the players and the stakes and he stumbles into a web of Third World corruption and personal betrayal where everything he values–and everyone he loves–is threatened. And only the greatest of sacrifices will save them.“This big, brawny novel runs on full throttle from first to last page. Brutal and heartrendering, eloquent and important, this is a fully engrossing read.”–Michael Connelly“A Quiet American for the new century. Angry and impassioned, Blood of Paradise is that rare beast: a work of popular fiction that is both serious and thrilling.”–John Connolly, New York Times bestselling author of Every Dead Thing“David Corbett is a supremely gifted writer and Blood of Paradise reminds me of a Robert Stone novel. Its lyrical prose and exotic setting filled with damaged souls grasping for redemption any way they can combine in a tour de force that will haunt you long after you reach the end.”–Denise Hamilton, nationally bestselling author of Prisoner of Memory“If you’re looking for the best in contemporary crime fiction, this is it.”–The Washington Post, on Done for a Dime_________________________________________________________________ THE MORTALIS DOSSIER- BONUS FEATURE FROM DAVID CORBETT FROM TROY TO BAGHDAD (VIA EL SALVADOR)The Story's GenesisI conceived Blood of Paradise after reading Philoctetes, a spare andrelatively obscure drama by Sophocles. In the original, an oracle advisesthe Greeks that victory over the Trojans is impossible withoutthe bow of Herakles. Unfortunately, it’s in the hands of Philoctetes,whom the Greeks abandoned on a barren island ten years earlier,when he was bitten by a venomous snake while the Achaean fleetharbored briefly on its way to Troy.Odysseus, architect of the desertion scheme, must now return,reclaim the bow, and bring both the weapon and its owner to Troy.For a companion, he chooses Neoptolemus, the son of his slainarchrival, Achilles.Neoptolemus, being young, still holds fast to the heroic virtuesembodied by his dead father, and believes they can appeal toPhiloctetes as a warrior. But Odysseus–knowing Philoctetes willwant revenge against all the Greeks, himself in particular–convinces Neoptolemus that trickery and deceit will serve theirpurposes far better. In essence, he corrupts Neoptolemus, who subsequentlydeceives Philoctetes into relinquishing his bitterness toreenlist in the cause against Troy.The tale has an intriguing postscript: It turns out to be the corruptedNeoptolemus who, by killing King Priam at his altar duringthe sack of Troy, brings down a curse upon the Greeks even as theyare perfecting their victory.This story suggested several themes, which I then molded to myown purposes: the role of corruption in our concept of expedience,the need of young men to prove themselves worthy in the eyes ofeven morally suspect elders (or especially them), and the curse of ahard-won ambition.Why El Salvador?I saw in the Greek situation a presentiment of America’s dilemma atthe close of the Cold War: finally achieving unrivaled leadership ofthe globe, but at the same time being cursed with the hatred of millions.Though we have showered the world with aid, too often wehave done so through conspicuously corrupt, repressive, even murderousregimes, where the elites in charge predictably siphoned offmuch of that aid into their own pockets. Why did we look the otherway during the violence and thievery? The regimes in question werereliably anticommunist, crucial to our need for cheap oil, or otherwiseamenable to American strategic or commercial interests.We live in a dangerous world, we are told. Hard, often unpleasantchoices have to be made.It’s a difficult argument for those who have suffered under suchregimes to swallow. They would consider it madness to suggest that itis envy of our preeminence, or contempt for our freedom, that causesthem to view America so resentfully. Rather, they would try to get usto remember that while their hopes for self-determination, freedom,and prosperity were being crushed, America looked on with astrangely principled indifference, often accompanied by a fiercely patrioticself-congratulation, not to mention blatant hypocrisy.Not only have we failed to admit this to ourselves, but the NewRight has embraced a resurgent American exceptionalism as the antidoteto such moral visitations, which such conservatives considerweak and defeatist. Instead, they see a revanchist America marchingboldly into the new century with unapologetic military power, uninhibitedfree-market capitalism, and evangelical fervor–most immediatelyto bring freedom to the Middle East.The New Right’s historical template for this proposed transformationis Central America–specifically El Salvador, trumpeted as“the final battleground of the Cold War,” and championed as one ofour greatest foreign policy successes: the crucible in which Americangreatness was re-forged, banishing the ghosts of Vietnam forever.There’s a serious problem with the New Right’s formulation,however: It requires an almost hallucinatory misreading of history.Misremembering the PastIn their ongoing public campaign to justify the Iraq war, manysupporters and members of the Bush Administration–includingboth Vice President Dick Cheney and former defense secretary DonaldRumsfeld–have singled out El Salvador as a shining example ofwhere the “forward-leaning” policy they champion has succeeded.Mr. Cheney did so during the vice presidential debates, contendingthat Iraq could expect the same bright future enjoyed by El Salvador,which, he claimed, is “a whale of a lot better because we heldfree elections.”What Mr. Cheney neglected to mention:• At the time the elections were held (1982), death squadslinked to the Salvadoran security forces were murderingon average three to five hundred civilians a month.• The death squads targeted not just guerrilla supportersbut priests, social workers, teachers, journalists, evenmembers of the centrist Christian Democrats–the partythat Congress forced the Reagan Administration to back,since it was the only party capable of solidifying theSalvadoran middle.• The CIA funneled money to the Christian Democrats toensure they gained control of the constituent assembly.• Roberto D’Aubuisson, a known death squad leader,opposed the Christian Democrats as “Communists,” andlaunched his own bid to lead the constituent assembly,forming ARENA as the political wing of his death squadnetwork. His bid was funded and supported by exiledoligarchs and reactionary military leaders, and managedby a prominent American public relations firm.• “Anti-fraud measures” proved intimidating. For example:ballots were cast in glass jars. Many voters, who had toprovide identification, and who suspected the governmentwas monitoring their choices, feared violent reprisal ifthey were observed voting “improperly.”• ARENA won thirty-six of sixty seats in the assembly, andD’Aubuisson was elected its leader.• This was perceived by all concerned as a disastrousfailure for American policy. When D’Aubuisson triedto appoint one of his colleagues as assembly president,U.S. officials went to the military and threatened to cutoff aid. D’Aubuisson relented, but it was the onlyconcession he made to American demands.In short, there was American influence, money, and manipulationthroughout the process, putting the lie to the whole notion theelections were “free”–though Mr. Cheney was arguably correctwhen he stated that “we” held them. Unfortunately, all that effortcame to naught, as what America wanted from the elections lay inshambles. Even when, in the following year’s election, a great dealmore money and arm-twisting resulted in Washington’s candidatebeing elected president, he remained powerless to reform the military,curtail the death squads, or revive the economy, measuresWashington knew to be crucial to its counter-insurgency strategy.By 1987, the Reaganites decided to abandon the decimated ChristianDemocrats for ARENA–the party it had spent five years andmillions of dollars trying to keep from power.As for Mr. Rumsfeld’s remarks, he made them in the course of abrief stopover in El Salvador to thank the government for its supportin the Iraq war. The defense secretary trumpeted the just nature ofthe cause in Iraq, noting that the Middle Eastern country had oncebeen ruled by “a dictatorship that killed tens of thousands of humanbeings . . . A regime that cut off the heads and hands of people. Aregime that threw people off the tops of six-story buildings withtheir hands and legs tied.”The irony of these remarks, which bordered on the macabre, wasnot lost on the locals: The Salvadoran military–which we funded,trained, and expanded tenfold–achieved a similar body count, employingsimilar if not identical methods in its bloody suppression ofthe internal opposition. The Salvadoran air force, for example, typicallythrew its bound captives not off rooftops but out of helicoptersand airplanes (the so-called “night free-fall training”), and the practiceof cutting off the head and hands of death squad victims was socommon it earned the sobriquet “a haircut and a manicure.”These mischaracterizations, however, are merely part of a muchlarger deceit. In truth, America’s claim to victory in El Salvadoris delusional. As late as 1988, military and policy analysts of everypolitical stripe were admitting that despite huge infusions of Americancash, the government was in a stalemate with the Marxist guerrillas.Although six strike brigades were arguably up to the task ofactually engaging the guerrillas, Salvadoran field tactics were oftenderided by Green Beret advisors as “search and avoid,” and the government’spropensity to slaughter its critics desisted only when it feltunthreatened.Then, in 1989, the Soviet Union collapsed, and the Salvadoranoligarchy’s main bargaining chip with Washington, its staunch oppositionto a Communist takeover, became moot–but not beforethe guerrillas staged one final offensive, in response to which themilitary reverted to form, strafing and bombing whole neighborhoods,reviving the death squads, and murdering six Jesuit priests,their housekeeper, and her fifteen-year-old daughter.International outrage over the murdered Jesuits finally broughtmatters to a head. The time had come to consider a truce, which theUN, not the Americans, stepped in to broker. In 1992, the final PeaceAccords were signed.Thus, after over a billion dollars in military aid and three billionin non-lethal aid (most of it spent rebuilding infrastructure destroyedby the fighting) plus more than seventy thousand Salvadoranskilled, over forty thousand of them civilians (and more than90 percent of them murdered by their own government), the U.S.obtained a result it could have achieved over ten years earlier, in1981, when the guerrillas first proposed a negotiated settlement–aprospect that the Reagan hard-liners, many of whom now serve inthe Bush Administration, flatly and repeatedly rejected. Only victorywould do for them, a victory that proved utterly elusive untilthe distortions of political memory took over.Mischaracterizing the PresentBut even if the Reaganites didn’t “win” El Salvador, isn’t it true thesituation there has improved dramatically? With peace and stability,internationally monitored free elections, and a demilitarized judicialapparatus, cannot El Salvador be credibly described as “a whaleof a lot better” now?Consider the following:• Impunity from the country’s civil and criminal lawscontinues, particularly for the politically, economically,or institutionally well-connected.• The concentration of economic power remains in thehands of a few. In fact, in the 1990s wealth became evenmore concentrated as a result of neoliberal reformsintroduced by ARENA.• Land transfer provisions dictated by the Peace Accordshave suffered endless delays.• Child labor remains endemic.• El Salvador is a source, transit, and destination country forwomen and children trafficked for sexual exploitation.• Civil society is under siege due to the availability ofweapons left behind by the war, the formation of shadowycrime syndicates by ex-military officers now turnedbusinessmen, and the presence of transnational youthgangs founded by Salvadoran immigrants in the U.S.• Death squads have returned, to conduct “socialcleansing.”• The highest levels of the the Policía Nacional Civil (PNC)are controlled by former military men with dubious pasts.Corruption is widespread, and there are many tiesbetween the police and organized crime. An attorneywith the Human Rights Ombudsman stated: “When wego to the [police] Directorate for Investigating OrganizedCrime, we never go alone. There always has to be at leasttwo of us, because they might do something to harm us.”The old political system was based on corruption, privilege,and brutality, and such things do not just evaporate, even in thewelcome light of peace and free elections. As we know fromworldwide example–Serbia, Ulster, Palestine, Thailand, Somalia,Afghanistan, and, yes, El Salvador and Iraq–today’s paramilitaryforce is tomorrow’s Mafia. And so-called free elections can oftenmask extreme imbalances of power, which voters feel helpless tochange.Meanwhile, almost a third of the population of El Salvador hasemigrated to other countries, primarily the United States. The migrationwave continues today, estimated by some observers at sevenhundred persons per day. These expatriates now send back to theirless fortunate family members remittances (remesas) of nearly threebillion dollars per year. If the country were reliably secure and prosperous,with wealth distributed reasonably among its people, itwould no longer need this foreign cash machine. But the most significantform of voting in El Salvador is done with one’s feet: If onecan leave, one does.Those who have stayed behind have become increasingly frustrated.The unwavering grip that ARENA has on power–withconspicuous assistance from Washington–reminds many of theoligarchy’s brutal control prior to the civil war. Organized protestshave turned increasingly violent, and many fear the country is onceagain coming apart at the seams.On July 5, 2006, student protests against bus fare increases resultedin gunfire, with two police officers killed and ten wounded.President Tony Saca blamed the FMLN before any credible evidencewas available (and subsequently retreated from this position).The FMLN responded by condemning the violence. As it turnedout, a gunman caught on tape was identified as an expelled partymember, now belonging to a splinter group calling itself the LimonBrigade.Beatrice Alamanni de Carillo, the Human Rights Ombudsman,remarked, “We have to admit that a new revolutionary fringe isforming. It’s an open secret.”Gregorio Rosa Chávez, the auxiliary bishop of San Salvador,stated, “We signed the treaty but we never lived the peace. Reconciliationis not just based on healing wounds, but healing themwell. . . . People are losing faith in the institutions.”The “Salvador Option”If we described honestly the real state of affairs in El Salvador,would ordinary Iraqis truly wish that for their future? WouldAmericans consider the cost in human life, not to mention billionsof dollars per day, worthwhile? Forget all the blunders along theway (or the more jaundiced view that democracy was never theissue)–is this truly a sane model for a stable state?It’s too late to pose the question, of course. The New Right’s distortedunderstanding of the past and present in El Salvador has createdan almost eerie simulacrum in Iraq, with even ghastlier results.Taking one particularly ominous example: In the summer of 2004,as American efforts to stem the Iraqi insurgency foundered, U.S.officials decided to employ what came to be known as “the SalvadorOption.” American advisers oversaw the establishment of commandounits composed of former Baathists. The commandos beganto exert themselves in the field, enjoying successes the Americansenvied, but also employing methods American troops shunned, especiallyin the aftermath of the Abu Ghraib scandal. The Americanadvisers overseeing the commandos–who had extensive backgroundsin Latin America and specifically El Salvador–adamantlystated they in no way gave a green light to death squads, torture, orother human rights violations; they may well have been sincere. Butmatters spiraled murderously out of control when Shiites dominatedthe elections of January 2005 and took over for the InterimGovernment: Shiite death squads, linked to the Badr militia but actingunder the aegis of the Ministry of Interior, soon began systematicallyhunting and killing Sunni men, creating a sectarian bloodbaththat continues to tear the country apart. American calls for transparentinvestigations of the murders have netted little in the way ofresults.Regardless of what the future holds for Iraq, these commandos,along with the paramilitary units and the other sectarian militias operatingin Iraq, will not melt away into nothingness. Many of theirmembers are tomorrow’s gangsters (whose rackets will predictablyfund terrorist organizations).Meanwhile, the escalating bloodshed has caused, among countlessother troubles, the dislocation of millions of refugees, and theflight from the country of large portions of Iraq’s professional class,who like ordinary Salvadorans realize the future lies elsewhere.Given all this, it’s difficult not to revisit the notion of a curse. Inachieving sole superpower status, we have relied on false notions ofourselves and others, excused atrocity under the guise of expedience,sought our own national interest over all other considerations (withat times a cavalier appreciation of whether short-term successesmight in fact poison long-term ones)–all the while proclaiming,not without some merit, all the best intentions in the world. Tothink this wouldn’t come back to haunt us is to believe in notions ofpower and innocence too fatuous for an adult mind to entertain.One last example should make the case conclusive. Consider oursupport for the Contras, a makeshift band of mercenaries assembledfor the sole purpose of causing as much havoc as possible for theSandinista government in Nicaragua, whom we accused of supportingthe Salvadoran guerrillas. While President Reagan steadfastlyproclaimed the Contras to be the “moral equivalent of our FoundingFathers,” an adviser to the Joint Chiefs of Staff called them “justa bunch of killers.” By 1985, the Contras had murdered at least fourthousand civilians, wounded an equal number, and kidnapped perhapsfive thousand more. Even the CIA admitted the Contras steadfastlyrefused to engage the Sandinista military and instead preferredto execute civic officials, heads of cooperatives, nurses, judges, anddoctors, while showing a stubborn propensity for abducting andraping teenage girls. The strategy: not to seize power or even prevailmilitarily, but simply to terrorize average Nicaraguans, and demonstratethat their government could not protect them or provide evenbasic services.And who has steadfastly imitated this strategy?The jihadists and insurgents in Iraq.Like the victims of, yes, a curse, we find ourselves trapped in theexact same position in which we put our previous enemies. Not evenSophocles could have devised it more neatly.The Murder of Gilberto SotoThe historically suspect pronouncements of Messrs. Cheney andRumsfeld and their camp followers were not the only topical incidentsof relevance to occur during the writing of this book. Another,far more chilling event also took place, an event that not onlyunderscored the deterioration of civil society in El Salvador, but eerilyechoed elements of the novel’s plot: the murder of an American–aTeamster named Gilberto Soto.He was visiting family in El Salvador–and also hoped to meetwith port drivers to discuss possible plans to unionize–when gunmenshot him dead outside his mother’s house in Usulután. Many ofthe trucking companies that would have been affected byunionization are run by ex-military officers, but the police investigationnever pursued this. Instead, two gang members were pressedand possibly tortured into confessing that the victim’s mother-inlaw,who had less than a hundred dollars to her name, hired them tokill Soto out of some vague, illogical family rancor.Two of the three defendants, Soto’s mother-in-law and the allegedtriggerman, were acquitted in February 2006. The man allegedto have supplied the murder weapon was convicted, despitethe fact the Human Rights Ombudsman, in her scathing critique ofthe investigation–an investigation which was not conducted by thelocal prosecutor, but the PNC’s notoriously corrupt Directorate forInvestigating Organized Crime–specifically noted that no chainof evidence existed concerning the gun and bullets.This murder took place during the American debate over ratificationof the Central American Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA),and only by considerable arm-twisting was the Bush administrationable to secure the necessary votes for passage. (CAFTA passed theHouse by a mere two votes.) How can there be free trade, opponentsargued, if men and women seeking a just wage can be murderedwith impunity? But such arguments did not prevail.A Final Note on Blood of ParadiseAll of which leads to a brief summarizing glance at two of my characters,Jude and Clara.Like Neoptolemus, Jude allows himself to be seduced by amorally questionable elder into a reckless scheme. In a sense, hestands for all of us: an everyman who wants to do good in a worldhe knows needs plenty of it, but who also suspects that to accomplishthat end a few nefarious deeds must be indulged. He wants to believeas well that one can withstand such evil, rise above it, even as one doesits bidding: Good intentions, sound character, and professional skillwill prevail over necessary compromises with immorality. Whoknows, it might even be fun–kick ass, take names, shake handswith the devil but don’t let him hold your wallet. We’re Americansafter all, blessed by God and history. How can we not prevail?Clara–Salvadoran war orphan, rape victim–sees the matterdifferently. She ultimately understands that only through real sacrificecan the future possibly redeem the past. Being deeply religious,like many Salvadorans, she sees this call for renunciation as the challengeof the crucifixion. And so, in the end, she finds the heart to actupon her conviction–not in an empowering act of violence, but ina selfless, agonizing act of love.

    The source is pretty thin, but Cameron senses a scoop and checks out a series of bizarre deaths from a few years ago - only to find that the police are checking out a series of bizarre deaths that are happening right now. And Cameron just might know more about it that he'd care to admit...