WHERE ARE YOU? HOW ARE YOU?
(Published in Literary Journal Global City Review, International 2002)
It’s cold in the bedroom now that the air conditioner has dried out the New York August humidity. But still I cannot sleep, thinking about my early morning flight for what I call the Upper West Coast. My travels will take me first to Washington state, where I will visit one sister, and then, four days later, to Alaska, where I will spend ten days with my mother and my two other sisters. The trip had been set up in February, long before our daughter, Julia, decided to spend the summer in Israel. (more)


A DAUGHTER'S CHRISTMAS GIFT
(published in Reflection's Edge)
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Once I had made up my mind that I was going to attend my mother’s funeral, the rest was easy. I bought the swankiest red velvet dress I could afford - after all, it was Christmas Eve -- and I even gave myself a facial that morning.

Though I must admit I did hesitate as I approached the entrance to the Ebert Funeral Home, where my mother was being received, as they say, when an image of her standing over my bed struck me full in the chest. Nightmares have always been a part of my sleep. I wake up in a sweat several times a month, afraid that she is watching me, the way she used to when I was a little girl. And I wondered if I had the guts do it. I had to. This would be the last chance I would get, and I had to see for myself that she was really dead.

(to read more visit the Reflection's Edge website by clicking here)

FROM BLOODLETTTER (the Sisters in Crime newsletter)

Gemological Institute of America
Eight plotting women stood in the lobby of a building just around the corner from the largest diamond district in the world. They chatted about the weather, the wind was especially cruel that morning, and watched people move in and out through the entrance. They looked at their watches. It was time. Each one took out her picture ID. There was no turning back. (more)


FROM THE NOOSE (the Mystery Writers of America newsletter)

LOTTERY TICKET ON WHEELS
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The garbage industry had been mobbed-up for generations, but when the recycling laws came into effect in 1991 turf wars broke out all over the City. Until then there had been guys who made a living hauling trash, while other guys specialized in recycling paper. Before this law had come into effect, the Mob had very little interest in the recycling industry. Then when every business in New York was forced to "source-separate" the paper, glass, and plastic from the putrescible (wet) waste the Mafia controlling the commercial garbage pickups realized it would be quite lucrative for them to now include paper and cardboard in their business. (more)

A TRIBUTE TO POE
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In 1841 Poe published "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" introducing the eccentric amateur detective, Monsieur C. Auguste Dupin, and evermore opened the door to new possibilities for the story teller.

Mystery Writers of America (MWA), an association of mystery writers, founded in 1945, chose Edgar Allan Poe as their Patron Saint. Each year, in May, MWA selects the best novel, short story, first novel, non fiction book, young adult and children's books, theater and television productions in mystery and suspense and present each with an Edgar Award. (more)

INSIDE SCOTTLAND YARD
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Securing order, preventing crime and the detection and punishment of offenders, if a crime is committed, is the primary objective of any police force. Jeremy Taylor, the MWA guest for our November meeting, talked about his involved in this endeavor for 30 years with the Metropolitan Police of London, first working as an uniformed officer with a Westminster beat, then as a detective for 27 years on the International scene.

The British police system has roots that date back to the first Saxons. Initially the community was divided into groups of ten, called "tythings", with one tything-man appointed as a representative of each group. The community was then divided into larger groups of ten tythings, and these were placed under the jurisdiction of a "hundred-man" who was then responsible to the shire-reeve, or Sheriff, of the country. (more)

SING SING
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Sing Sing is the only prison bisected by railroad tracks, and a few minutes before our Metro North Train pulled into the Ossening station, we got our first view of the Correctional Facility, with thick rolls of razor wire stretched across the top of the immense granite walls. Then a two minute taxi ride, a short walk through the parking lot and we stood at the entrance to one of the most notorious prison in the USA.

After a thorough security check and Superintendent Fisher had given us an introduction and brief history of the prison, we were taken on a two and one half hour tour of the facility. (more)