Product Description

Dr. Mark Sloan is assigned to LAPD's "unsolved homicide" files. As he reopens one case on the murder of a woman whose killer currently sits on Death Row, Sloan learns that the wrong man was charged. And that the real killer is still at large...

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #349931 in Books
• Published on: 2003-09-02
• Released on: 2003-09-02
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 304 pages

Review
"An exciting and completely satisfying read for all 'Diagnosis Murder' fans." -- Aimee and David Thurlo

Review
"An exciting and completely satisfying read for all 'Diagnosis Murder' fans." (Aimee and David Thurlo)

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter One

Dr. Mark Sloan, chief of internal medicine, was being paged over the Community General Hospital loudspeaker. He was wanted on the second floor right away, and he was doing his best to get there as fast as he could.

Mark rocketed down the corridors at what could only be called superhuman speed for a man of his age. He weaved around startled nurses and astonished visitors with a polite wave and a glowing smile, expertly rolling on the wheels imbedded in the heels of his Predator sneakers.

With one foot in front of the other, toes tipped up, and all his weight balanced on his heels, Mark Sloan glided down the slick linoleum floors like an Olympic ice-skater going for the Gold.

It was exhilarating for him and terrifying for everyone else. But anyone who'd visited Community General Hospital during the last forty years wouldn't have been surprised by the sight. Mark Sloan had experimented with everything from roller skates to Razor Scooters in his impossible quest to be everywhere at once.

He whipped around a corner, accidentally clipping an orderly and knocking his tray of food in the air, splattering everyone with mashed potatoes, peas and Salisbury steak. Mark looked over his shoulder to apologize and plowed into a group of candy stripers, scattering the volunteers like a flock of frightened pigeons.

That's when he saw the circular nurses' station looming up fast in front of him. Mark lowered the ball of his leading foot to the floor, going from a rapid roll into a running stop just short of a collision with the counter.

Mark smiled sheepishly at the disapproving nurse, who had thrown her considerable bulk on top of a stack of files to save them from toppling.

"I got here as fast as I could," Mark said, catching his breath.

"So I see," she said, shaking her head, each of her chins wobbling in judgment.

"Who needs a consult, Marge?" Mark asked.

"He does," Marge motioned to someone behind him.

Mark turned and was surprised to see LAPD Police Chief John Masters leaning against the wall, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest, staring at the doctor with his usual cold, appraising look. The chief was a former football player who became a soldier who became a cop. He was more of a politician now than anything else, but he still carried himself like a man coiled to strike, who might be called upon at a moment's notice to tackle a quarterback, charge an enemy bunker or wrestle a deranged suspect to the ground.

"You have a unique way of getting around," Chief Masters said. His voice was low and smooth, managing to convey strength, authority and an unsettling hint of violence.

"It's called heeling," Mark lifted up one of his feet to show Masters the bottom of his shoe. "These are ordinary sneakers with removable wheels imbedded in the heels. It takes a little practice, but once you get the balance down, you can really move. You might think about it for your foot patrol officers."

"I'll be sure to do that," Masters said dismissively. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?"

"Does this have something to do with Steve?" Mark asked. Every time Steve left their Malibu beach house to go to work, pocketing his badge and strapping on his gun, Mark tried not to think about all the terrible things that could happen to him. And Mark knew from experience just how terrible those things could be.

"Doctor Sloan, if I have a problem with a homicide detective, I talk to him. I don't go running to his father."

Mark sighed with relief. "So Steve isn't hurt or in any kind of danger."

"No," the chief replied, genuinely baffled by Mark's assumption. "Why would you think that?"

"I suppose it's the natural assumption when your son is a cop and the chief of police shows up unannounced for a little talk."

"Oh, yes. Of course. I'm sorry." Masters wasn't so much sorry as he was embarrassed. He'd been so focused on his own agenda, he'd forgotten just how many times he'd done exactly what Mark described for exactly the reasons Mark feared.

"Don't worry about it, Chief," Mark said, surprising himself at how easily he was letting Masters off the hook. It was rare to see Masters flustered about anything, and Mark would ordinarily have taken advantage of it, but his curiosity was stronger than his sense of mischief.

If Masters wasn't here about Steve, what did he want? Some medical advice? Mark doubted it. Mark was the last person Masters would confide in about anything that could possibly be construed as revealing weakness, fear or vulnerability. Perhaps the chief finally had enough of Mark's meddling in homicide cases and had come to slap him down, once and for all.

Whatever it was, Mark would soon find out. Mark motioned Masters into one of the exam rooms and closed the door.

"So what's bothering you, Chief? One of your old football injuries acting up?"

"I'm not here for a physical, Doctor," Masters said. "I'm assembling a blue ribbon task force to do a thorough review of the department's dead case files. I want you to be on it."

The last thing Mark was expecting was any kind of job offer. "What are dead case files?"

"Unsolved homicides that are no longer being actively pursued, investigations that were reprioritized after considerable time, effort and manpower were spent on them without positive results."

It was the kind of reply Mark would have expected to hear at a press conference. In fact, he suspected he probably would, and that the chief was simply taking it out for a test drive first.

"I think I understand," Mark said. "What you mean is these are the cases you dropped in favor of murders you knew you could close, and close quickly, to keep your annual clearance rates from dropping."

Mark gave the chief his most avuncular smile, but Masters was one of the few who was immune to it. He looked Mark in the eye and spoke very slowly, so there would be no misunderstanding. Mark tried not to wither under the big man's steely gaze.

"What I mean, Doctor, is that there are five hundred homicides in this city every year, and while we solve most of them, there are a few that we can't close. Maybe it's lack of evidence, witnesses or cooperation, or maybe it's just bad police work. I don't know. But I can tell you this: It makes me sick that those killers are still out there on the streets, making a mockery of the law. I want them behind bars. And I'm asking for your help to do it."

"Let me get this straight. You want me to investigate homicides. Not just any homicides, but the ones the department couldn't solve."

"I wouldn't put it that way. The mandate of the task force is to take another look at some inactive cases to see if any new leads can be developed."

"I'm confused," Mark said. "Aren't you the man who once told me 'You're a doctor, not a cop,' and wanted me thrown in jail for obstruction of justice for showing up at a crime scene? Now you're saying you want my help?"

The chief shifted his weight uncomfortably. He didn't like explaining himself to anyone, particularly Dr. Sloan, but he knew had no other choice.

"I don't tolerate any civilians getting involved in homicide investigations, particularly those lurkers, losers and lunatics who think of themselves as detectives," Masters said. "But you were regarded as some kind of expert at solving murders long before I got this job, and I can't deny you've been responsible for putting a lot of killers away, even under my watch. That said, I've never wanted your help before. This time I'm asking. That should tell you something."

It did.

So Mark decided to press his advantage and see just how much more he could get out of Masters.

"Why me?" Mark asked. "Why now?"

"I need a fresh perspective on these difficult cases and I know, for better or worse, you can give that to me."

Mark met his gaze. The chief had answered his first question but had carefully avoided the second. Mark had a pretty good idea what the answer was, and that it was the real motivation behind the blue ribbon task force and Mark's appointment to it. Even so, this was an opportunity Mark couldn't pass up, and he was well aware that Chief Masters knew it. You don't become chief of police without knowing how to skillfully manipulate people.

"When do I start?" Mark asked.

Masters reached into his jacket and handed Mark a crisply folded sheet of paper. "You already have."

As the chief walked out, Mark looked at the paper. It was an LAPD press release, dated that morning, announcing Mark's appointment to the chief's Blue Ribbon Task Force on Unsolved Homicides.

"Congratulations," Dr. Jesse Travis said, catching up to Mark in the hall.

"On what?" Mark asked.

"That whole task force thing," Jesse replied. "Very impressive."

Mark looked at the young doctor in astonishment. He'd just left Chief Masters a few minutes ago. "How did you know about it?"

"I heard it on the radio this morning," Jesse said. "Though frankly, I was a little hurt that I had to learn about it from Mike and Ken instead of you."

"I'm sure Mike and Ken, whoever they are, know more about it than I do."

"You've never listened to Mike and Ken?" Jesse said. "They're great. They once broadcast an entire show standing naked in an enormous vat of pig poop."

Mark gave him a look. "How do you know?"

"Know what?"

"That they were actually standing in pig excrement."

"They said so."

"It's radio."

Jesse thought about it a moment. "Okay, you have a point. But I know for a fact Mike can play the national anthem with his armpit."

"I'm sure it's an inspiring rendition," Mark said. "It's nice to know you're getting your news from such reliable sources."

"Hey, they knew about you and the task force, didn't they?"

Mark couldn't argue with that.

"So," Jesse said, "have you uncovered any intriguing cases?"

"I haven't looked at the files yet."

"You haven't? What are you waiting for? These cases have been buried too long already."

"I've only had the job ten minutes."

"And you're falling behind already? C'mon, Mark. I know it's hard, than...

Customer Reviews

An excellent start to the series of DM books
I found the beginning of the book quite chilling. Lee goldberg can really set a scene and he does it in a way that gets the reader to 'see' it with own eyes.

A Good Start to this Book Series
This is the first book in the new line of Diagnosis Murder mysteries; it isn't as good as the second and third books are, but gives a great introduction to the series and the characters. If you watched the show it is easy to imagine each of the characters coming to life and to see the workings of Dr. Sloan as he solves yet another case. The humor from the series is here, as is the same light mystery. I read the first three books out of order and was very impressed by the second and third books too. I think this series has potential and hope to read many more.

Pleasantly Surprised
I enjoyed this book quite a bit more than I had anticipated. I had watched the show a few times, but not religiously by any means. When I saw this book in the store, I thought it would be along the lines of the "Murder, She Wrote" books which I enjoy reading, so I picked it up.
Author Lee Goldberg does an excellent job so staying true to the series' characters and does a good job of describing the action that takes place.
There are two mysteries in this book: Someone is committing copycat murders following the m.o. of various serial killers and a man dies on the operating table undergoing a kidney transplant. The latter mystery itself is rather easy to figure out and is strictly a subplot to the serial killer. That mystery is more difficult and has a nice twist ending.
Some of the clues given would never be noted by anyone without a medical background, but that did not bother me too much; there were plenty of other clues to help me figure out whodunnit.
Looking forward to reading the next in the series.