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    Murders and Music
    Murders and Music
    Murders and Music
    Ebook111 pages1 hour

    Murders and Music

    By C. D. Moulton

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Swan Song for an Agent A band hits the big time. They become hugely successful and tour. It is taking too much out of them, so they decide to break up.
    Then their agent is found with her throat cut. Nick Storie investigates.

    Sing a Song of Murder
    A band becomes successful on the strength of the front man. Things are looking up!
    Then the man's girlfriends start getting murdered.

    Final Tour
    A singer is very popular and making millions. Then there are attempts on her life.
    Merlin Tyana intercedes.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherC. D. Moulton
    Release dateAug 8, 2022
    ISBN9798201200787
    Murders and Music

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      Book preview

      Murders and Music - C. D. Moulton

      Swan Song for an Agent

      A band hits the big time. They become hugely successful and tour. It is taking too much out of them, so they decide to break up.

      Then their agent is found with her throat cut. Nick Storie investigates.

      Sing a Song of Murder

      A band becomes successful on the strength of the front man. Things are looking up!

      Then the man’s girlfriends start getting murdered.

      Final Tour

      A singer is very popular and making millions. Then there are attempts on her life.

      Merlin Tyana intercedes.

      CD was in rock music during the late sixties and early seventies. He was based in San Francisco and was with such personages as Janis Joplin and such bands as Quicksilver Messenger Service. He did some performances, but was more into writing and arranging and ideas. He performed in situations where someone was sick or otherwise detained.

      These stories are about the feelings and reactions of performers. The songs featured are actual songs CD wrote, but were never recorded. The emotions about when a performer gained true contact with an audience are real.

      Janis could just walk out on the stage, not do or say anything, and owned the audience. We called it charisma back then. I don’t think anyone has that quality today. It’s very sad. Music was a far different communication then. It wasn’t all about money and promotion and ego-trips.

      Other parts of the business – CD is glad he didn’t use his real name. Some things are best allowed to fade into obscurity.

      About the author

      Swan Song for and Agent

      Encores and More

      Sorting Clues

      Performance

      Sing a Song of Murder

      The Big Break

      Investigation Begins

      On the Road Again

      A Little Subterfuge

      Plans

      Dark Corners

      Final Tour

      About the author

      CD Moulton has traveled extensively over much of the world both in the music business, where he was a rock guitarist, songwriter, and arranger, and in an import/export business. He has been everything from a bar owner to auto salvage (junkyard) manager, longshoreman to high steel worker, orchid grower to landscaper, tropical fish farmer to commercial fisherman. He started writing books in 1983 and has published more than 175 books as of January 1, 2013. His most popular books to date are about research with orchids, though much of his science fiction and fantasy work has proven popular. He wrote the CD Grimes, PI series and the Det. Nick Storie series, among other works.

      He now resides in Gualaca, Panamá, where he writes the Clint Faraday mystery series, plays music with friends – and pursues his favorite ways to spend his time: beach bum and roaming the mountain jungles doing botanical research. He has lately become involved in fighting for the rights of the indigenous people, who are among his closest friends, and in fighting the extreme corruption in the courts and police in Panamá.

      He offers the free e-book, Fading Paradise, that explains what he has been through because of the corruption.

      CD is the discoverer of the Chadam Protocol for curing cancer. Facebook page: Ambrosia peruviana for cancer

      Swan Song for an Agent

      A Nick Storie mystery

      by C. D. Moulton

      Encores and More

      The crowd was screaming for another encore.

      What the hell! At the price they paid for the tickets, he owed them that!

      Ben Hardin, better known as Ben Hard, swaggered on stage for the third encore, passing close to the bandleader/bassist, Stinky Stankosky, to whisper, Goin' Home, OK?

      Oh, Man, you only wrote it on the bus today! Stinky protested, shaking his head.

      Ben grinned and stumbled to the mike while Stinky told the band to get ready for the tune in E. Ben would take lead. Drums was to improv from his bass lead, keyboards would manage the basic chord follow.

      They had never before played a chord of it, but everyone had watched as Ben wrote the number. Stinky had followed with his trademark melodic bass riffs.

      Ben stood while the crowd got louder and louder, then put both his arms high. Chris dropped the lights to a single spot and looked at Stinky in panic. He didn't like improv with the lights.

      Stinky circled his fingers indicating the lights stay on Ben.

      Stinky hated and loved this kind of thing. It was either total dismal failure or legend. Ben had the guts to try it. Stinky's heart was in his throat. He moved quickly beside the sound board and tapped number 9 channel, then pushed the reverb up two points and the depth up two and killed a little on the high response.

      Jesus, Stinks! Roy said. What's he doin'? Can he pull it off?

      It's gonna be a leech set, baby! Stinky hissed. "Transfer full mainmike vocals into blend on nine. He's playing lead. I want that mother to scream and cry. Follow it, baby! We got to stick this one tight and it's the big time! This is what the business is all about!

      Do it!

      He slid back into position, had a sudden idea and held up two fingers to Chris, then unrolled fingers one at the time, meaning to start with him on the lights and take each one as he fell into the piece. He touched his forehead to indicate blue, then moved his palm down and out, indicating only enough light for a pale silhouette. He pointed to Ben and held up five fingers.

      Chris looked scared as hell, but he gave him a weak grin and nodded. Five fingers. Red laser on Ben as soon as he started.

      Stinky caught Chris's eye again, held up the five, rolled the fingers, meaning IMPROVISE, BABY!

      Uh, Ben said.

      It was eerie. Sounds at earsplitting levels dropped to nothing audible. Stinky quickly held up his right index finger and thumb in a circle and closed it.

      Chris narrowed the spot to hold just Ben's face and the bright silver mike.

      We didn't exactly plan this many encores, so I'll try to do a little piece of a thing we were writing on the bus this afternoon earlier, Ben said. You can let us know if you like it.

      It was a moment. The audience, thirty one thousand six hundred people who'd come to see Stationmaster perform were each and every one being promised magic on some subliminal level. Stinky could feel the tension. He was weak and on the point of nausea, but he was more excited than he could ever remember being before.

      Stationmaster had a platinum album and a number two single – and they'd just bombed. Bigtime! Hard Times, substitute warm-up band, had been better-accepted than ever before. They'd never played so big a gig before. They were a bar band, but a scout had seen them and had asked they do a substitute gig when the regular warm-up band came down with botulism at a barbecue. They'd never played one tenth as good as they had tonight, either!

      Ben picked up his old SG and hit the bright pedal. Stinky groaned. That was taking one hell of a chance! Any mistake went out at high gain.

      He nodded at Stinky. Chris brought a pale blue spot on him as he started.

      Boom ba-boom ba-boom ba-slide up.

      Boom ba-boom ba-boom ba-slide down

      Repeat.

      Ben came in with a screaming/rolling lick – and didn't miss one! The red laser followed him as he seemed to be floating in the velvet blackness, the chrome studs burning in the darkness.

      UV on Ben! Stinky suddenly hissed. Chris popped the black light on, making a blue-white glow of Ben's blond hair and making the studs scream out in an intense hot white.

      It was going! The feeling coming from the crowd was a swirling vortex that was swallowing the whole band!

      The drums throbbed, building with the bass. Ben was rolling the power riffs. Dave was coming in with rhythm, working some kind of crazy counterpoint to the bass Stinky had never heard before. The keyboards dropped a synth power hum that was coming toward you like a

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