Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
EPILOGUE
FURTHER FUNNY FILM FACTS FOR FANATICS
Praise for the Double Feature Mysteries
It Happened One Knife
“Reading Cohen’s book is like hearing a great story in a bar—conversational, amusing, and you just want to buy someone a beer when you are done—and then ask for more. Cohen creates wonderful characters and Elliot Freed is a guy who’s right on the edge of nuttiness, but is so kind and bighearted that it’s easy to forgive his obsession with old comedies . . . Lots of laughs, some nice red herrings, and a perfect way to spend a summer afternoon.”—BookBitch
“Everybody knows Jeff Cohen writes wonderfully funny, well-plotted mysteries peopled by characters more human than most humans, but did you know Cohen also knows how to write love? No? Well, this book showcases all his many skills. Including love. And, of course, love lost.”
—Linda Ellerbee
“Cohen’s greatest strength is his characters . . . Cohen creates characters with heart. It Happened One Knife combines great characters, humor, and suspense, with a little slapstick, in the tradition of the best movie comedies. You can’t go wrong with Cohen’s Double Feature Mysteries.”—Lesa’s Book Critiques
“Cohen shows why he is a wonderful mystery author with his humorous yet action-packed investigative tale. It Happened One Knife is fast paced but contains a quirky cast that insures the audience will believe they are at a comedy show instead of in an amateur sleuth novel. Elliot is the terrific star in this comedic cozy.”—Genre Go Round Reviews
“Jeff Cohen is the class clown of the mystery world. It Happened One Knife has it all: a puzzling mystery, characters to love, and nonstop rapier wit. Cohen is truly a class act!”
—Chris Grabenstein, Anthony Award-winning author of Tilt-a-Whirl
Some Like It Hot-Buttered
“Cohen fires up the gag reel for a new tongue-in-cheek mystery . . . Freed solves the mystery and earns his amateur sleuth credentials, promising more comic adventures to come. Cohen develops his lively characters almost as effortlessly as he delivers jokes—and the occasional guffaw—and manages to sneak in some suspenseful twists besides.”—Publishers Weekly
“A light, funny murder mystery . . . The start of a wonderful new series.”—ReviewingTheEvidence.com
“A wonderful treat for cozy mystery lovers! A smart and witty protagonist leads a dynamic cast through a vibrant first-person narrative filled with satisfying twists and turns. The first of what promises to be a wonderful series . . . Funny and exciting, I simply cannot wait to read more.”
—Romance Readers Connection
“You’re in for a treat, that is, if you like good mystery written with great humor, as well as warmth and wit . . . Solving the mystery and finding those responsible for the crimes is only part of the fun in this wonderfully entertaining book—Mr. Cohen’s writing and wry sense of humor is a delight . . . I can’t wait to read the next one!”—Crimespree Magazine
“Cohen has begun a new series featuring another nice, schleppy hero with a heart of gold. This seems to be his specialty and I, for one, couldn’t be happier . . . This new book has, at its heart, an everyman who just happens to get involved in murderous doings, and we, thankfully, get to go along . . . Not only is the book funny, which you would expect from Jeff Cohen, but it is also well-plotted (also expected), and loaded with plenty of misdirection. Plus you get to meet another terrific bunch of characters.”—Mystery Ink
“Readers keep coming back for more [of] Cohen’s delightful sense of humor and ability to create main characters who shine with sly mirth, bubble with self-deprecating humor, and zing one-liners nearly every time they open their mouth or even have internal dialogue with themselves . . . If you enjoy humor in any form, you’ll get a kick out of Some Like It Hot-Buttered. If you like comedic mysteries, you’re in for a real treat. And, if you happen to like comedic mysteries and are a fan of classic comedy movies, you’ve hit the jackpot.”
—Curled Up With a Good Book
“A twisty mystery with lots of laughs and lots of heart. This is the first in the Double Feature Mystery series, and hopefully it won’t be too long a wait for the next.”—BookBitch
“Those looking for a few laughs will find plenty to enjoy with this offering.”—Roundtable Reviews
“A very entertaining read.”—New Mystery Reader Magazine
“A delight to read and Elliot quickly joined the ranks of my favorite cozy heroes. The plot was fresh, the writing sparkled . . . Film buffs and readers who like to laugh should read this book.”—Mystery News
“Will keep you laughing till the end. It is a book I highly recommend.” —I Love A Mystery
“A little bit of mystery heaven—don’t miss it.”—Aunt Agatha’s
“Even if you’re not a movie buff, you’ll love this first book in a new series . . . The author doesn’t go for the zany approach here; Elliot, who narrates, has a very dry and sarcastic wit. The mystery . . . will keep the reader guessing until the end.”
CA Reviews
“A witty, enjoyable mystery . . . Perfect for anyone who needs a ‘Comedy Tonight.’ ”—Lesa’s Book Critiques
“A hilarious read, with quips and asides to movies and movie people. The plot is very believable and provides a great insight into the comedy genre niche, which is sorely ignored all over the country.”—Love Romances and More
“Grab a bag of popcorn from the microwave, find a comfortable seat, and prepare to be entertained.”—Chattanooga Press
“A very funny mystery . . . The characters are well-defined, the dialogue frequently laugh-out-loud funny, and the plot adequately complex without being overly complicated . . . A terrific debut.”—Mysterious Reviews
“The plot is nicely twisting, with enough action to keep the reader entertained . . . This is the book for anyone who wants to relax, chuckle a bit, and get involved in a good mystery.”—Front Street Reviews
“Something for everyone! . . . Bursts with mystery, action, romance, and laughs . . . A sure thing smash-hit. Jeffrey Cohen is the Dave Barry of the New Jersey Turnpike.”
—Julia Spencer-Fleming, Edgar® Award nominee and author of I Shall Not Want
“Movies, murder, characters who are real people, laughs, danger, and damn good writing.”
—Linda Ellerbee, television producer, journalist, and bestselling author of Take Big Bites and And So It Goes
“Knock, knock. Who’s there? Cohen. Cohen who? Cohen buy yourself this most en
tertaining book.”
—Larry Gelbart, writer of M*A*S*H, Tootsie, Oh, God!, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, Barbarians at the Gate, etc.
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Jeffrey Cohen
some LIKE IT HOT-BUTTERED
IT happened one Knife
a NIGHT AT The OPERATION
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
A NIGHT AT THE OPERATION
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / April 2009
Copyright © 2009 by Jeffrey Cohen.
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eISBN : 978-1-101-02551-2
BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME
Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
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BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA)
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This book is dedicated to
Rhoda Cohen,
my mother,
who taught me not only how to read, but why.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’D like to thank the Academy, but they’ve never done anything for me, so that will have to wait for another day.
Screenwriters like to say that if you want control over your work, you should write a stage play. Playwrights, however, say the way to maintain control is to write a novel. It’s a question of degree, really. There’s no such thing as total control over a creative work, unless you write, edit, and publish that work yourself.
So even though it seems like I just keep thanking the amazing editor of the Double Feature Mysteries, Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, there’s a reason behind it. With this novel especially, you would have read something considerably different—and demonstrably worse—had it not been for her. If you have enjoyed any of the Double Feature books so far, you have Shannon to thank, but most of you don’t know her, so I’ll do it for you. Thank you, Shannon. Every author should be so lucky, but that would really increase your workload.
For supporting the efforts of Elliot and his cohorts, thanks to booksellers and librarians truly worldwide. All those I’ve visited have been amazing, and I hesitate to single any out for fear of inadvertently leaving someone out. So if you’re a book-seller, and I’ve met you, assume you’re the one I’m talking about. Because you are.
The author’s support group keeps growing: thanks to my blogging buddies at Hey, There’s a Dead Guy in the Living Room: Janet Reid, Lynne Patrick, Sharon Wheeler, PJ Nunn, Robin Agnew, Abby Zidle, Deni Dietz, and Gordon Aalborg. And to my book tour companions, Chris Grabenstein, Ken Isaacson, and Jack Getze.
And of course my dedicated and tireless agent, Christina Hogrebe, and the many talented people at the Jane Rotrosen Agency, who look out for all the things I completely don’t understand. Thank goodness for you.
But the backbone is always my family, and they make it possible for me to sit around and think of stories to write down. To Jessica, Josh, and Eve: You are the best a man could ever hope for, and far more than I deserve.
Old situations, new complications
Nothing portentous or polite
Tragedy tomorrow—comedy tonight!
—STEPHEN SONDHEIM, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
1
Man does not control his own fate. The women in his life do
that for him.
—GROUCHO MARX
FRIDAY
Sullivan’s Travels (1941) and Train Trippin’ (this week)
“SHARON is missing.”
I looked up from what I’d been doing—playing an addictive little computer game called MacBrickout—and that resulted in a double punishment for me. First, I lost the ball that was knocking out a series of increasingly-hard-to-hit bricks on my computer screen. Second, I was now looking at the face of Dr. Gregory Sandoval, my ex-wife’s soon-to-be second ex-husband, who was standing in the doorway of my office, uninvited.
“What do you mean, ‘missing’?” I asked. I actually do know what “missing” means, but I was caught off-guard and hadn’t really been listening to Gregory. I try not to listen to Gregory whenever possible.
The thing about Gregory is . . . I have tried, on numerous occasions, to pretend he doesn’t exist, but there is scientific evidence that he does. The man is an irritant, like a tiny speck of dust in your eye that won’t wash out, no matter how much Visine you use.
Of course, he was wrong. Sharon was not missing. I’d seen my ex-wife only the day before.
It hadn’t been a pleasant experience, but I couldn’t blame that on Sharon, nor, even more surprisingly, myself. The fact is that after the age of twenty-two or so—and maybe even before—it’s just no fun to get a physical examination.
I go to my ex-wife’s medical practice for a number of reasons. First, I know that Sharon and Antoinette Westphal, who started the practice, invite only the best doctors to join them. Second, it is conveniently close to where I work and where I live. Third, I get to see Sharon, with whom I had a cordial divorce, whenever I go there.
And last but not least, I still get the family discount. A man paying for his own health insurance worries about such things.
But that doesn’t carry much comfort with it when you’re a man in his late thirties and another man is checking you for signs of testicular cancer. It’s hard to think of much at a time like that.
“I don’t see anything,” said Dr. Lennon Dickinson, Sharon’s rather disturbingly handsome partner. Lennon, who was not named after Paul McCartney, George Harrison, or Ringo Starr, had dark hair, blue eyes, and the kind of look that makes Dr. McDreamy look like Dr. McDumpy, I’m told. Now, he was simply reporting the facts. He hadn’t been named after Jack Webb, either, but his sensibility was similar to Jack’s.
“That’s a little worrisome,” I told him. “Maybe you should get glasses.”
Lennon looked up, which, under the circumstance
s, was something of a relief. “I meant, I’m not finding any nodules or striations,” he said. Lennon is as funny as an Ingmar Bergman festival.
“I know, Lennon. I was just kidding.”
He nodded. Yes, that was the price one pays for having a patient who owns a movie theatre that shows only comedies. You have to deal with the occasional joke.
“I think you’re just fine. Get dressed,” Lennon said.
“If I had a dime for every time I’ve heard that,” I said under my breath. But I followed his instructions, and, luckily, Lennon didn’t try to banter back.
Dressed and dismissed as healthy, I followed Lennon out of the examination room and into the hallway, where doors to four other such rooms were located. One of the doors was closed, with the color-coded “patient inside” flag showing, and that was where Toni Westphal was, I assumed. Sharon was right in front of me.
She smiled her professional smile when she saw me, and spoke in Lennon’s direction. “I assume his heart is still beating,” she said, gesturing at me.
“I didn’t find anything wrong,” Lennon answered. The man’s a carnival.
“That’s only because you’re not a psychiatrist,” she told him, grinning at me a little too hard.
“You married me,” I reminded Sharon. “What does that say about you?”
“I divorced you, too. That speaks volumes.”
I gave her my “droll” face, and moved on. “C’est Moi! on Monday?” I asked. Sharon and I meet about once a week for lunch at a badly named restaurant in Midland Heights, near my theatre and her practice. It’s part of our ongoing effort to not have an acrimonious divorce. Some times are harder than others, like when she orders a steak sandwich for lunch and I try to mooch the french fries. The woman is vicious in defending her fries.
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