By Scott Flander
With 4 to hour of darkness, award-winning crime reporter Scott Flander, writer of the significantly acclaimed novel Sons of town, returns with a moment explosive novel of justice, politics, and race that includes Sergeant Eddie North.When a black urban councilman is improperly crushed on a West Philadelphia highway and blames of Eddie's most sensible police officers, they deny it. referred to as to the scene, Eddie -- doubtful of what fairly occurred -- comes to a decision to again his males and reveals himself accused of a conspiracy to hide up the reality. The media, the politicians, and the general public are outraged. after which a guy in a black ski masks starts off a crusade to assassinate cops.As Eddie races to profit what used to be relatively at the back of the thrashing, extra difficulty erupts. A fellow sergeant has taken benefit of the stress within the urban and shaped a hoop of corrupt officials that comes with one of many law enforcement officials for whom Eddie is risking everything.The widening clash among the police and the black neighborhood is reflected via the conflict of cop opposed to cop. And with the stakes so excessive, there are not any winners ... simply these powerful sufficient -- and fortunate adequate -- to survive.Masterfully plotted and introduced in evocative prose, 4 to nighttime is a riveting tale of the way not easy it really is to do the appropriate factor in the middle of a raging conflict to keep up brotherhood and morality in a urban less than siege from inside.
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Extra resources for Four to Midnight: A Novel
Probably not. Probably he’s just catching up on his damn paperwork. So there was Buster, filling out his report, with the car’s inside light on so he could see what he was doing. He told us later he had his window rolled down, and he thought he heard a noise, like the jangling of keys. But it was dark out, and the inside light made it hard to see much on the street, and he wasn’t the type to worry about it anyway. A moment later, he realized someone was standing outside his car. He glanced up, saw a man in a black ski mask.
He was waving them over. I should have stayed right where I was, I shouldn’t have moved. But as Timberlane and Joel, camera at his side now, hurried toward Knight, I stayed with them. I had to see what was going to happen. When we reached Knight, Joel lifted the camera back to his shoulder and flipped on its light. I took a quick step to get safely off to the side. “Councilman,” said Timberlane, “we heard you were beaten by police officers. ” “That’s right,” said Knight. ” He looked around, trying to find Mutt and Roy.
Somehow, though, I couldn’t get the words out. I just stood there, paralyzed by the camera and its blinding light. Del was gone. The dogs were barking, barking like crazy now. That’s all I could hear. Why can’t they shut up, I thought. Why can’t they just shut the hell up? THREE got the first phone call the next morning just after six. Hello? Eddie, honey, what did you do? Uhh . . Mom? You’re on CNN, did you know that? Uhh . . My mother was one of those people who got up in the morning much earlier than they had to—something I could never understand—and immediately switched on the TV.