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Trial & Error (Solomon vs. Lord, Book 4), by Paul Levine
PDF Ebook Trial & Error (Solomon vs. Lord, Book 4), by Paul Levine
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When Steve Solomon is awakened from a sound sleep beside his lover and law partner, Victoria Lord, the last thing he expects is to find himself in a high-speed chase against dolphin-kidnapping ecoterrorists on Jet Skis. But that is what you get when your nephew hangs out at water parks and speaks cetacean–a.k.a. dolphin. By morning, a person is dead and Steve has a new client: none other than one of the animal liberators. There’s just one loophole: Victoria is on the case too—on the opposite side.
No wonder Larry King says that this is “mystery writing at its very best” and Dave Barry says Paul Levine writes a terrific courtroom drama that’s also funny as hell!”
- Sales Rank: #1552841 in Books
- Published on: 2007-05-29
- Released on: 2007-05-29
- Ingredients: Example Ingredients
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 6.87" h x .82" w x 4.27" l, .30 pounds
- Binding: Mass Market Paperback
- 267 pages
From Publishers Weekly
The fourth Solomon vs. Lord novel finds the two romantically entwined attorneys-at-law unwittingly taking opposing sides of an ecoterrorism case. After heroically thwarting the theft of two prized dolphins from a wildlife park, Steve Solomon finds himself representing the very environmentalist radical he helped apprehend, a clueless idealist who, due to a legal technicality, is likely to be convicted of murder. Meanwhile, Steve's long-term girlfriend, Victoria Lord, has been tapped by the state's attorney to spearhead the prosecution. While the two lovers exchange characteristically incisive banter over their case and their relationship, Solomon's autistic adopted son, Bobby, provides insight that may crack the case wide open—only to reveal a seriously dangerous conspiracy. The book shines throughout the legal melodrama, treating over-the-top courtroom antics with enough legalese to keep the proceedings from tipping into suspense-killing absurdity. There are some rough patches—Bobby's thoughts on his struggling social life are distracting (and unnaturally wholesome), and the closing chapters discard witty courthouse repartee for contrived B-movie action fare—but no more than series fans have come to expect. This quick and tightly crafted caper has enough cheeseball humor, endearing wit and memorable characters to make it a fine rainy-day read. (June)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
About the Author
Paul Levine is a former trial lawyer and the award-winning author of the Solomon vs. Lord legal thrillers. He has also written for the CBS television program, JAG. Levine lives in Los Angeles, where he is working on his next Jimmy Payne thriller.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One
Runing Tall
Just after two a.m., Steve Solomon sprinted along the seawall, chasing the man on the Jet Ski. Black wet suit. Black helmet. Dark visor. A Darth Vader look.
The man shot Steve the bird, then shoved the throttle wide open. The Jet Ski jolted airborne, splashed down, and roared along the channel toward Biscayne Bay.
"Stop him, Uncle Steve!"
Bobby, urging him on. Steve had ordered his twelve-year-old nephew to stay on the dock, but the boy was running, too, trailing behind.
"You can catch him!"
Sure, kiddo. Leave it to me to capture the bad guy, rescue the dolphins, save the world.
A quarter-moon hung like a scythe over the Bay. Cetacean Park should have been quiet. The channel should have rippled placidly in the moist breeze, the air scented with salt and seaweed. Instead, the Jet Ski growled like an angry beast, belching greasy vapors in its wake.
Steve picked up his pace. Years earlier, he had been the fastest Jewish kid on Pine Tree Drive, admittedly a group with more shleppers than sprinters.
He figured there was one chance to catch the man. The channel ran straight for three hundred yards, then dog-legged right for another two hundred yards before reaching open water. He could cut diagonally across an empty field, the shortest leg of the triangle, and intercept the Jet Ski at the inlet to the Bay.
Steve looked back over his shoulder. Bobby had stopped along the seawall, either because he was pooped or because he was belatedly following his uncle's orders.
Steve ran tall, back straight, shoulders relaxed, head still. He had always been fast over short distances. Stealing bases at U of M, a painless ninety-foot sprint. But lousy at distance running. No patience for the training, no tolerance for the pain. Before Victoria, his live-in girlfriend, he'd been a sprinter in his personal life, too. Hundred-yard dashes, hundred-hour relationships.
Flying now, feet barely touching the ground. Hopped over a fallen pond frond, never breaking stride. Shot a look at the Jet Skier, the dive knife sheathed at his ankle. Calculated time and distance. And possible injuries.
Knife wound, concussion, drowning.
They would reach the intersection of channel and Bay simultaneously.
Steve hit the embankment and drove off his back foot. He launched into space, arms spread like wings, soaring toward the man on the Jet Ski, thinking . . .
Just what the hell am I doing?
Chapter Two
From Bedroom to Bay
One hour before leaping into the darkness of Biscayne Bay, Steve was locked in the spooning position with his girlfriend and law partner, Victoria Lord, her hair tickling his nose, her sweet scent fueling his dreams. The phone jarred him awake. Wade Grisby at Cetacean Park.
Victoria stirred as Steve pulled on his Hurricanes running shorts and a T-shirt with the slogan: "What If the Hokey Pokey Is What It's All About?"
"Bobby," Steve whispered. Explanation enough.
She rolled over, her blond hair splayed across the pillow. "Dolphins or stars?"
Steve understood the shorthand. Bobby had broken into the planetarium the night of a meteor shower. Lately, the kid had been sneaking out of the house to play with the dolphins on Key Biscayne.
He stroked Victoria's cheek. "Dolphins. Wade Grisby caught him talking to Spunky and Misty."
Talking and listening. Bobby believed he could understand dolphinese, as he called it. The boy was even writing a dictionary of the clicks, whistles, and moans that came from their blowholes.
Victoria propped up on one elbow. In her sheer black negligee, with her sleepy eyes, she looked like a star in one of the old black-and-white movies. Lauren Bacall, about to entice her man back to bed.
"Steve, I just can't get enough of you."
Instead, Victoria said, "Steve, maybe it's time Bobby saw a therapist."
"I'll talk to him. He'll be okay."
Steve leaned over and kissed her, Victoria exhaling a warm breath. Asleep before he was out the door.
Every day another drama, Steve thought, driving across the Rickenbacker Causeway. Getting Bobby out of another jam. This didn't sound as serious as climbing on a catwalk over I-95 to spray paint an exit sign. Bobby had removed the apostrophe from the word "Beaches' " because the typographical error drove him nuts. The kid was sweet and loveable, and in some mysterious way, a genius. But he wasn't socially developed, and lately he'd been acting out.
Breaking curfew. Trespassing. Keeping secrets.
Steve had asked Bobby if everything was okay, if he was having problems, if he wanted to talk about anything.
"Yep."
"Nope."
"Huh?"
Typical adolescent. But unusual for a kid who was ordinarily so verbal. Steve wondered if Bobby's central nervous system disorders were in play. A little klutzy, a lot brainy. The kid seesawed between semi-autistic behavior and savantlike abilities of memory and language feats. "Paradoxical functional facilitation," the doctors called it. Bobby could create anagrams in his head. But lately, his wordplay had been limited to chirping sounds at the breakfast table. Dolphinese.
Steve pulled his Mustang convertible into the empty lot at the bayside attraction. Signs pointed toward the bottlenose dolphin channel, the killer whale tank, the indoor aquarium.
Steve hustled toward the channel. Wondering if he'd been too lax with Bobby, too reluctant to discipline him. Grounding his nephew didn't seem to work. The kid just crawled out his bedroom window and took off.
Steve followed a path of palm trees to the channel. Spotlights on metal poles illuminated the dark water. He figured Grisby would be in his small dockside office, lecturing Bobby on the dangers of breaking into other people's businesses.
That's when Steve heard the roar of the engine. Spotted Darth Vader. Totally surreal.
The Jet Ski carved a turn, kicked up spray, and slowed near the dock. The rider glared at Steve. Early twenties with a pugnacious jaw and cruel mouth. Raising a fist above his head, he shouted, "Liberation!"
What the hell's going on? Where's Grisby? Where's Bobby?
"Bobby!"
Steve heard sneakered footsteps on the concrete dock, his nephew running toward him, all flying elbows and knees, a skinny arm pointing at the masked man on the Jet Ski. "He's stealing Spunky and Misty!"
The man cruised close to the seawall and bared his teeth. "Freedom for the animals!"
So that's it. The guy's a dolphin-kidnapping, animal-libbing, eco-terrorist asshole.
Steve was all for animal rights. But not burning down labs. Or bombing research centers. Or terrorizing scientists. If a few rats had to die to find a cure for cancer--well, it was a trade-off that made sense.
The man gave Steve the finger, gunned the Jet Ski, and headed out the channel toward the Bay.
"Stop him, Uncle Steve!"
Chapter Three
Call Me Fishmeal
One hour before Bobby Solomon begged his uncle to stop Darth Vader from stealing the two dolphins, the boy had climbed a chain-link fence, sneaked across a concrete dock, and crept over a catwalk to a floating wooden platform.
Praying he wouldn't be caught.
Uncle Steve would be so pissed. But Bobby had decided to take the risk.
I need to talk to Misty and Spunky.
His best friends.
Waiting for their signal, Bobby sprawled on his back. He let his eyes grow accustomed to the dark. In a moment, he spotted the constellation Sagittarius in the clear night sky.
A splash, then a rapid-fire click-creak-click. A second splash and a familiar high-pitched whistle.
Misty and Spunky saying hello.
They were the stars at Cetacean Park. Spunky was the color of a blue-steel revolver, with a long beak and a gray belly. His fluke--the wing-shaped paddle at the end of his tail--was oversize, powering his giant leaps. He weighed about 250 pounds, depending on how much mackerel he'd had for breakfast. Misty, his girlfriend, had a sleek, silvery-blue body with a pink belly. She loved to be rubbed at the base of her dorsal fin.
Bobby put two fingers to his lips and whistled. Two short blasts. "Hi guys."
Spunky slapped the water with a fin, splashing Bobby. The Spunkster joking around.
No tanks to confine them, the two dolphins lived in a channel that ran to Biscayne Bay, a steel gate blocking their path to open water. Bobby swam with the dolphins, fed them, played with them. Even watched them have sex, belly-to-belly.
Not an everyday sighting. Not like seeing Pamela Anderson or Paris Hilton do the big nasty on video.
Pennants strung across the channel crackled in the sea breeze. The park had been closed for hours, but sugary songs about a thousand years old still poured from the speakers. Barbra Streisand was ordering someone not to rain on her parade. Barbra Streisand. SAD BREAST BRAIN.
So easy. You just picture the letters, and they fly around and anagrammatize themselves. Bobby thought in pictures and sounds, just like the dolphins. He could remember almost everything he'd ever seen or heard.
For the past year, he'd been listening to the sounds coming from Spunky's and Misty's blowholes, trying to untangle their language. Building a dictionary of dolphin talk. The clicks and squeaks, moans and whistles all meant something, but you had to be patient. You had to really listen and remember the patterns. Tonight, he hoped to add a few new phrases to his notebook. Then he'd bicycle home, sneak back into the house without waking Uncle Steve and Victoria, and catch some z's before school.
Earlier tonight, he'd told Victoria a big fat fib. More than one, really. She'd been cooking meat loaf, filled with onions and dripping with Worcestershire an...
Most helpful customer reviews
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Dolphins' Advocate
By Gerald So
Having foiled an animal activist's attempt to free a pair of trained dolphins, Steve Solomon finds himself morally obligated to defend the naive activist against a felony murder charge. As the activist's uncle, D.A. Ray Pincher is conflicted out and calls on his former employee, Victoria Lord, to prosecute. Can Solomon and Lord overcome their professional and personal conflict to get at the truth?
All the Solomon vs. Lord novels show Levine's talent for layering and then unfurling mystery, yet each adventure is memorably different from the last, satisfying returning fans and winning new ones.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Save the Dolphins!
By mrliteral
After writing a set of fun books featuring lawyer Jake Lassiter, Paul Levine seemed to disappear for years; finally, a couple years back, he returned with his Solomon vs. Lord books, featuring Steve Solomon (in many ways, a slightly more responsible version of Lassiter) and his lover/law partner Victoria Lord. Trial & Error is the fourth novel in this series and it is as good as the others.
In this novel, Solomon gets involved with stopping animal liberator Gerald Nash out to free a couple dolphins from a water park. It'd be a minor crime except one of the Nash's partners was killed and now Nash is charged with murder. Despite his involvement with the initial arrest, Solomon winds up being Nash's lawyer.
Unfortunately, Nash is related to the State Attorney, so an independent prosecutor is required, and ex-prosecutor Lord is recruited. Neither Solomon nor Lord will back off, so the two lovers are pitted against each other in court. Solomon's aggressive, bend-the-rules approach to trials is completely different from Lord's intelligent by-the-book methods. (In fact, their first contest against each other, in the book Solomon vs. Lord, wound up completely flattening her.)
Though they share the billing, it is clear that Solomon is the central character of these books. As with the earlier books, the formula is essentially the same: two polar-opposite personalities fight over their approaches to a crime until they work together to bring about a solution. It is Levine's strength that he can make this formula repeatedly work, though he will eventually need to develop things further to keep things from getting stale. In Trial & Error, however, things remain fresh and this is an entertaining addition to the series.
3 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
Welcome back, Solomon and Lord!
By Ted Feit
Trial and Error marks the return of Steve Solomon and Victoria Lord, domestic partners as well as law partners at this point in their lives. Steve's much-loved 12-year-old nephew Bobby is communing with his friends, two dolphins who reside at a local water park one balmy night in South Florida when ecoterrorists apparently decide to free the creatures. Steve is called to the scene and arrives in time to nab one of the men, while a second is shot by the park's owner. In the aftermath, Victoria gets pressed into service to prosecute the case against the man Steve brought down, while unknown to her Steve at the same time is hired to represent the defendant, charged with felony murder since his illegal act resulted in a man's death. The details of that death don't quite add up in Steve's eyes - the man had a shotgun trained on him and the police were on their way when he allegedly went for his gun. The owner of the marine park then shot him, twice, at pointblank range. The ensuing trial wreaks havoc on Steve and Victoria's lives.
As always with this series, the courtroom scenes are a delight to read, and to visualize. The trial features a judge who has court papers delivered to him not by a clerk but by a model railroad car. And the classic Steve-the-Shark Solomon antics are, of course, ever present. Bobby, a boy who `seesawed between semi-autistic behavior and savant-like abilities of memory and language feats,' plays a pivotal role. The author's reliable humor is also present, making this fast-paced and well-plotted book another excellent entry in this series.
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