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195 pages
3 hours
Jul 16, 2012


The continuing story of Detective Adam Kenzy from The Molecular Structures of Jade and Instant Sober. E A St Amant demonstrates once again that his stories are riveting and intriguing no matter what the genre. Small town northern Ontario, and through the busy streets of Toronto, the tapestry painted has a life of its own; surprises, one after another, from funny to tragic, from profane to profound. The villains, creeps and cops intermixed into a deadly cocktail; not for the squeamish.

Gradually, Adam Kenzy becomes the human face of law and order; neither anvil nor hammer, his calm staid disposition is Canadiana itself.

The Molecular Structures of Jade . . . awesome, I liked the way it was written and it was completely different than what I expected after reading Dancing in the Costa Rican Rain. A great book with a unique writing style and surprise outcomes. A bang-up collaboration between the authors without any style conflicts. It makes you think about life, its meaning and how every life is different; shows the strength and weakness of the spirit and how people overcome self quarrels in order to do the greater good. It somehow defines the distance people will go for what they believe is right. A full mixture of action, adventure and mystery and I would hardily recommend it. The suspense is maintained throughout, all the while intertwining a healthy dose of wit and humor.

Like Instant Sober it won't disappoint. I was enthralled–found it difficult to put it down, with its quick ability to grab the reader and hold his attention throughout. Not necessarily a book for someone with a weak stomach but a great exciting read with an almost too close to home feel, if it were not fiction. Would recommend it to those who enjoy edgy humor accompanied by aggressive action thriller. Not only a dark exciting tale of a streak of murders in Ontario, but one of the most outstanding action detective novels I’ve ever read. Detective Adam Kenzy unravels the mysteries of the Ottawa Valley disappearances and saves many lives in the mix.

Jul 16, 2012

About the author

E A St Amant is the author of How to Increase the Volume of the Sea Without Water, Dancing in the Costa Rican Rain and Stealing Flowers.

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Black Sand - E A (Edward) St Amant

Black Sand

Published by E A St Amant at Smashwords.com

Smashwords Edition July 2012

Verses and poems within, by author.

Web and Cover design by: Edward Oliver Zucca

Web Developed by: Adam D’Alessandro

Printed in Canada by eimpressions Toronto

Copyrighted by E A St Amant July 2012

ISBN 9781 4763 2694 8

Author Contact: ted@eastamant.com

E A St Amant.com Publishers


All rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, emailing, ebooking, by voice recordings, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author or his agent . Black Sands Digital ISBN:

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, companies, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances whatsoever to any real actual events or locales in persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Thanks to the many people who did editorial work on this project and offered their many kind suggestions, including Edward Oliver Zucca, Nayyir Ismail and Lisa D’Alessandra

By E A St Amant

How to Increase the Volume of the Sea Without Water

Dancing in the Costa Rican Rain

Stealing Flowers

Spiritual Apathy


Book of Mirrors

Perfect Zen

Five Days of Eternity

Five Hundred Years Without Faith

Five Years After

Fog Walker

Murder at Summerset

This Is Not a Reflection Of You

The Theory of Black Holes (Collected Poems)

The Circle Cluster, Book I, The Great Betrayer,

The Circle Cluster, Book II, The Soul Slayer,

The Circle Cluster, Book III, The Heart Harrower,

The Circle Cluster, Book IV, The Aristes,

The Circle Cluster, Book V, CentreRule,

The Circle Cluster, Book VI, The Beginning One


Atheism, Scepticism and Philosophy

Articles in Dissident Philosophy

The New Ancien Régime

By E O Zucca & E A St Amant

Molecular Structures of Jade

Instant Sober

Chapter 1

Detective Eric Ross sat down at Dillon Black’s desk. He scratched his head but tried not to mess up his gelled hair. The office Eric shared with Adam Kenzy was identical to this one, which was Dillon’s. Dillon shared his with Detective Arnold McDowns. Eric’s office was messier than this and didn’t smell of annoying formaldehyde. In fact, he glanced around momentarily for an air freshener, but left off distractedly returning to the key board and screen. The computer desktop was tidy too, not covered in documents like his. The monitor’s background image was Dillon lying on a bed petting a friendly looking adult golden retriever. Eric thought about his old dog, Orange Pekoe; a Bellefeet Poodle, he missed him. The office door swung open and Arny stormed over to his desk, but not in a nosy way, a silent storm. He had been formerly with SIU – one of Sam Roubaix’s spies. He was a big motherfucker, well over six feet tall, and had lost none of his latent fury since becoming a homicide detective. Son of a bitch, he mouthed–you couldn’t really hear it. Arny opened the top drawer to his desk and rifled through some papers. He pulled out a file and left without closing the door, hardly even noticing Eric sitting at Dillon’s desk.

Eric retrieved the files he needed from Dillon’s computer and turned off the monitor, about to leave when Adam stepped into the office, closing the door behind him. What’s up? Adam asked perfunctorily. Eric held up a silver jump drive. I’ve been looking for you, Adam said further. Eric indicated he had his full attention. Adam sat on the edge of Arny’s desk. I hope this comes as no surprise but I’m leaving the force. I’ve tendered my resignation this morning. I wanted you to know first. Eric looked up in stunned shock. Did you hear what I said? Adam continued, I’ve put in my resignation. I’m totally serious right now.

Eric breathed in, Why?

It’s a long–

This is bullshit. Eric rose out of his chair. Unbelievable bullshit. He took a deep breath. They were feet away. Where’s this bullshit coming from?

I need to get out of Toronto for a while.

Eric faked a laugh. This is a joke, right?

Sorry. No joke, buddy.

Fuck a duck. This was said with no volume. You’re abandoning me? He breathed in, somewhat recovering himself. Well then, what the hell are you gonna do?

Tanya and I are moving to the Ottawa Valley.

Eric didn’t know how to feel, but betrayed felt about right. Those long hours in the cruiser or the midnights at their desks; the mornings in the morgue; endless crime scenes with his old friend and their wonderful crazy CSI team. He began to pace Dillon’s office but it was too small for that and he ended up nose to nose with Adam. You had it planned out and didn’t want to talk to me? Adam shrugged and Eric gagged his emotion. I can’t deal with this right now. Do you know how it feels to get out of hospital, go through that bullshit rehab, so I can walk again, I almost died A.

They caught each other’s eyes. I’m tired of it, Eric. I can’t – I won’t – do it anymore. Besides, I was there for your rehab, remember? Indeed Eric remembered and ground his teeth. I’m sorry. You don’t know what it has been like since you left. Do you remember how many people died on our last case together? Do you know how many people I shot?

Yeah, honorable shoots; righteous!

You don’t know how many. I don’t. It isn’t cool when that blends together and you call it normal.

I’m not disagreeing. I’m lucky to be alive. But how am I gonna do this without you?

In a word, Arny.

He’s half the cop you are. What if the Spiderman Rapist comes back?

He’s an arm short and a leg late–to say nothing of two balls less. Eric suppressed a sudden urge to laugh, but Adam went on. Besides, Partner, there are a lot of personal ghosts for me in Toronto. I search for Clara, Maria and Hayden on every street corner in this city, in every face gliding by and in every passing car.

Some whack-job will find the blue-print to Instant Sober and make a whole boatload of it. They’ll put it into the drinking water! Where will you be? You’re making a mistake. Adam offered his hand. Eric refused it, half-blocking his exit. I can’t physically prevent you from leaving. He held up his hands to make quote marks, Zero Tolerance for Inappropriate Physical Contact.

Adam gave a short sad half-laugh. Sorry bro. We’ll always have a room for you to come over and visit.

Where would that be?

Peristal. Smack down population of less than ten thou, all Caucasian; Brits mostly, and entirely middle class; hell I’m getting sleepy thinking about it.

Is was Eric’s turn to smile but for the life of him he couldn’t. Bullshit, he whispered as Adam left and closed the office door behind him.

When Adam was 25 years old, he had already been a decorated officer. He had left Eric with the impression that Peristal – Tanya and his destination – had been only an employment opportunity. But his resignation from the Force was equally motivated by a desire to start over; to have a family again. Only this time to offer them also the extra protection of small town Northern Ontario. Nothing could happen this time which would endanger his family: it was his last chance on the stairwell, as the expression went. Tanya already had a business opportunity to manage and co-own a modern boutique in Peristal. His contract as the chief of police for the town was generous. In truth, they had already bought a house there. By Christmas, they expected to take possession of it. In January, he started his new job, and so did Tanya. By nature, he was a stay-at-home and settle-down sort of guy; the opposite of footloose; the law and order type. All of his risk-taking was confined to one activity" law enforcement.

His Mother was dead. His dad had long ago committed suicide. His former family were ghosts on the streets of Toronto. Nothing held him here, especially the desire to fight crime; besides, the city’s homicide had been falling for decades. If you killed someone in Toronto, there was a 90 percent chance you’d be caught and convicted. He liked to think that it had something to do with cops like him; but maybe it was just some demographic reason like the baby boomers getting older. Old people just didn’t kill other people that often.

It couldn’t have been nicer than to leave the Force with the Spiderman serial rapist case finished and Collin Johnny Huzzovic locked up; Instant Sober out of business and the dangerous formula lost hopefully forever. He even celebrated those successes with champagne and a night out with Eric and the whole CSI team. At one point, he bought shots at the bar for everyone where they partied, and got so high, he nearly shouted out into the streets like some foolish teenager on a Saturday night. That had cost him two Gs.

He was on his way to pick up Tanya in the lounge at Bar 1, Yorkville. Here they would hook up with Nicola and Steve Phalange, the owners of the chain of Northern Ontario Boutiques, The Blue Bottle, which sold top-end furniture accessories, dinnerware, party favorites, gift ideas, holiday trimmings, and was a magnet for small town gatherings. The stores usually had a specially licensed bar and eating area for a stand up smorgasbord on pre-selected dates catered with local fare. In this way, it created atmosphere and locality exhilaration while selling ‘ambient décor’ creating ‘a cultural hub’ and giving ‘the best quality for every budget out there’. The boutique in Peristal would have all these facets and more: it would be ‘state of the art’ or so the Phalanges had promised. He had attended one too many meeting about it.

The square white building, the Medical Arts Clinic at Bay and College, faced out eastward and hugged the street rather closely. He pulled in on the other side and saw his wife on the southwest corner. He took out his cell, but delayed it a few seconds just to admire her. She was stunning in every manner. And every day was something different, a Gypsy, the pretty wallflower who lives next door or a vibrant black-haired knock-out from the forties. Today she had yellow ribbons in her hair and a frayed bright-blue wool long coat. Beneath would be some simply-cut one-piece that would almost screamed to be taken off. Among the crowds of people, many heading home after work, she stood out like a brilliant flower in the middle of a fresh snow fall. He punched a button on his Blackberry and watched as she reached into her purse for her iPhone. Then she looked over and saw him, smiling and waving carefree. She was like Christmas everyday. It had started to snow in earnest. He got out, opening the passenger door for her with Alejandro playing on the radio. She kissed him full on the mouth on her way through and when they had buckled up, he sped off. Ambient piano and violin accord of Noise Boyz greeted them in the lounge of Bar 1. Someone took their coats and sat them in amongst a cluster of couches around a fireplace which was radiating comforting heat. The whole lounge area could perhaps sit only twenty customers but was a space for at least a gathering of a hundred; a bar took practically the whole north wall and served also the dining area which was located in a separate but adjacent room behind the bar although you couldn’t see it. The snow swirled past them outside, gaining momentum. Tanya’s sponsors were only a minute away, so they waited to order.

As the Phalanges arrived, Adam noticed that they were impatient with the service they received as they shook off the snow and passed their winter accessories to the receptionist. It wasn’t anything they said, but in their mannerisms. They were on the road continually and their conduct was perhaps stretched thin by too many niceties. Like most multiple business owners, they were so rich that they sneezed gold dust, as the expression goes, and this perhaps gave them license to social laziness. Maybe they were just rude.

Adam had met them briefly before and now took them in with more of a detective’s observation. As he had noticed before, Nicola was most peculiar in her conduct. It was as though she were a recovering drug addict or one who suffers possibly from some disability such as schizophrenia or a bipolar disorder. She was five, nine in height, maybe ten, with slightly messed, long curly hair and glasses covering wild eyes. Her narrow face was incongruous with her rather shapeless body, made to seem the more sloppy by a formless lose, almost stola-type, dress with dull colors and half-covered by a long dull silk shawl. Her husband was no taller, but with kinder eyes than hers, although they seemed somewhat shifting; he wouldn’t make eye contact with Adam. He was younger than her as well and a beard covered most of his rather aquiline youthful face. They made no sense as a couple as far as appearance went or what Adam thought of as ‘couple sexiness’. Perhaps she was wealthier than him, or her family had footed the original venture capital. That was his initial deduction. He was sure once they settled into Peristal, he’d find out more about them.

They greeted each other with enthusiasm and sat. They were alone in the lounge and everything had gotten ominously quiet and you could hear ‘Broken’ by Gorillaz over the bar’s ceiling speakers.

We’re jetlagged, Steve opened, raising the champagne they had ordered, so you’ll have to forgive us. Glasses clicked all around. That was it Adam thought, jetlagged,

We were in Nikerate, Nicola added, opening a nice retail undertaking, 400 miles north of Edmonton, about ten thousand souls. Terrible trip. Cost us more to fly from Edmonton to Toronto than from Nikerate to Edmonton. And the plane ride; an eight seat Cessna – brutal turbulence, and we had our teenage son nephew with us – Pierce – a real handsome handful, as they say. Nikerate’s a nice town though, like Peristal.

We’re so excited, Tanya said, We can’t wait to move. Were you there this week?

Nicola nodded and then contradicted herself. No. The sight manager says they’re close to finishing the store, a few more weeks.

I hope so.

Steve nodded. They better be with the money we’re spending.

I hear the snowfall has been phenomenal this year in the Ottawa area, Adam said cordially.

Records all around, Steve returned. He pointed out the window. It falls like this 24 seven.

Adam looked out and caught a figure across the street watching them, a roughed individual from his past which rose all of his alarms. He focused, concentrating but the figure had moved on. Had it been his imagination? It sure had looked like his old and very first partner on the Toronto Force, Chip Myers.

Chip Myers found the cottage two miles off the highway. A week had passed since he had been in Toronto. The lustrous chalet appeared before him down a steep incline, snow covered and scenic in that cold grayness which was a sensation like near-death. The whole vista was an Emily Carr winter landscape: the country road was icy and temperatures were as low as 20° below Fahrenheit. The sun had been up for over a half hour; it was just after 6:00 a.m. It was no surprise being here in the grimness of dawn, yet also appealing

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