Excerpt: Geoff Can't Write This Novel

Since 1920, when the Metro-opolis police force had begun to attain its celebrity status, special attention had been paid to the style of the police uniforms. Even the lowliest of beat cops was made to look stunning in perfectly fitted clothing tailored to give an authoritative, yet gentlemanly appearance. Several years ago widely-acclaimed Metro-opolis fashion designer Averyl Lanks had been paid an extraordinary sum of money to craft the latest line of uniforms. What Ms. Lanks had created was a uniform that looked like it lay somewhere between a high-class chauffeur’s uniform and roman battle armor. It was sleek, black, sexy and intimidating, with muscular armor adding a level of raw macho attitude to the dapper cut of the fabric.

No more so did this new design stand out than on Senior Master Detective Chief Grimble Furgeson, whose uniform was even more impressive than the rest. Susan had heard that Furgeson had been observed, both at home and at work, day and night by Ms. Lanks for eight days as while she worked on the design of his particular uniform. While she had obviously doubted the story, staring at Furgeson (in his early fifties with short, perfectly coiffed hair and an impressive mustache) in person for the first time, she had to wonder. The suit seemed to fit him like a glove.