Excerpt from The Dirt Peddler:

   "So exactly how might I be able to help you?" I asked, not seeing much point in wasting time.
    Tunderew tugged at the collar of his turtleneck with an index finger, then reached for his glass of water.
    "I'm being blackmailed," he said after taking a sip of water and replacing his glass on the table.
     I tried to look as if I hadn't know all along. "Any idea who?" I asked.
     He looked at me with mild distain. I know exactly who," he said, which rather caught me by surprise since O'Banyon hadn't mentioned that part--if Tunderew had even told him.
     The waiter arrived with our drinks and asked if we were ready to order. We asked for more time and he left.
     "And exactly what does the blackmailer think he has against you?" I asked.
     He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Totally circumstantial bullshit." he said.
     Somehow I doubted that. "If you know who it is, have you confronted him...or her?"
     Tunderew shook his head strongly from side to side.  "Ooooh, no! I'm not going near that little piece of shit! I don't want to give him an ounce of encouragement!"
     Well, that was all pretty cryptic, I thought. "May I ask why?" I asked.
     "Because I can't afford a scandal, no matter how ridiculous, of course."
     "And this particular scandal might involve...? I urged.
     His look changed to one of total disgust: "My being a faggot," he said.

                                 *                     *                   *

     On the TV screen, the camera moved from a police car with strobes flashing to a reporter standing in the night rain with a microphone, to a broken guardrail, then over the edge to the bottom of a ravine where lay the mangled remains of a car, upside down with its wheels in the air and its front end submerged in a rushing stream.
     It took a second for my mind to process what the reporter was saying, and when I did, I heard "...identified as best-selling author Tony T. Tunderew. The identity of the passenger has not yet been released."

                                             *                   *                         *

     I hurried into the living room to see Jonathan staring down at the phone, which he'd put back on the cradle.
     "You know who was in the car with Mr. Tunderew?" he asked.
     I knew.

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