The Magician With Mob Connections
an excerpt

Julian himself was dressed to the nines. He hadn't had time to change his clothes. The last twenty four hours had been completely insane. After seeing the skull on his desk, the nervous intern had immediately called nine one one before Julian could do anything to stop him. That had resulted in him being whisked away to the local police station, where he was repeatedly and awkwardly reassured by police officers who were looking at him as though he was a time bomb waiting to explode. After some degree of internal maneuvering on their part, they stuck him on a plane to the FBI headquarters for the investigation into the Fishbowl Killer case. So now, here he was, sitting in a room with four strangers dressed in a black tuxedo with a top hat sitting on his lap, which he kept turning in slow circles on his knee with his white kid gloved hands, being talked at by a man that looked too old to do anything except fall over and die.