Crime And Passion
What’s one more dirty secret in the city of sin.
1971, New York City I scraped the heel of my boot on the concrete, afraid to look at what I’d stepped in on the dimly lit street that smelled of piss and booze. Sounds came from the shadows and crevices even a cop wouldn’t dare investigate. And especially that night, I kept my head down and walked with purpose, something I’d learned when venturing into the city's seedy underbelly. West 42nd Street was part of my beat, and...
