The second installment in the Dead Detective series finds protagonist Harry Doyle embroiled in a multiple-murder investigation involving Scientology executives. “Heffernan’s style harks back to traditional hard-boiled mysteries . . .  The Scientology Murders  isn’t likely to make the church’s recommended reading list, but for mystery fans it’s an entertaining tale.” ― Tampa Bay Times A series of murders in Florida have left the police force baffled and Detective Harry Doyle’s much-loved adoptive father seriously wounded. As his investigation becomes personal, Doyle―known to his peers as the Dead Detective―finds he must penetrate one of the most private institutions in the country in order to track down those responsible. Clearwater, Florida, is the spiritual center of Scientology, a religion that encourages its members to remain pure and true to their beliefs. One senior leader has a misguided young man in his employ, a twisted soul who will stop at nothing to make sure the rules are followed―even if it means shaming the very virtues espoused by the church. With veils of secrecy surrounding the church’s inner sanctums, the detectives are stonewalled at every turn. Eventually, however, the investigation leads Doyle, his partner Vicky Stanopolis, and Clearwater Sergeant Max Abrams to the far reaches of Alaska, where they come face-to-face with death in a form they never expected. "Action moves from Florida’s Gulf Coast to the wilds of Alaska, where a most satisfying conclusion takes place. Heffernan pulls no punches in taking on Scientology (and, briefly, Tom Cruise) in this long-awaited return of Harry Doyle. Hard-boiled action with a layer of controversy." ― Booklist "The Dead Detective pursues miscreants attached to the Church of Scientology from their Florida headquarters to the Yukon State . . . Highly entertaining." ― Kirkus Reviews "The good guys―Doyle; his detective partner, Vicky Stanopolis; and Clearwater police sergeant Max Abrams―remain entertaining and appealing throughout." ― Publishers Weekly "Many readers will enjoy the peek inside the organization’s hierarchy. Also enjoyable is the spirited romance between Doyle and Vicky Stanopolis, his partner in more ways than one. And the surprise ending is a wowser." ― Mystery Scene Magazine "This is a fun and fast paced novel . . . If you are a thriller or mystery reader and curious about the inner workings of Scientology, then The Scientology Murders is a must read." ― Lit Reactor WILLIAM HEFFERNAN (1940–2020) was the Edgar Award–winning author of numerous novels, including the international bestsellers  The Corsican  and  The Dinosaur Club , as well as  The Dead Detective, The Scientology Murders, When Johnny Came Marching Home, A Time Gone By, Cityside, and  Beulah Hill . Prior to turning to fiction, Heffernan was a New York City newspaper reporter who was nominated three times for the Pulitzer Prize. The Scientology Murders A Dead Detective Novel By William Heffernan Akashic Books Copyright © 2017 William Heffernan All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-61775-536-1 CHAPTER 1 Palm Harbor, Florida Harry Santos Doyle stared Into the dead man's face . He had already removed the man's wallet; knew his name was Charlie Moon, knew he was twenty-eight years old, and that he lived in the house where his body was found. He also knew that the large butcher knife protruding from the center of his chest had probably cleaved his heart in two. Doyle's partner, Vicky Stanopolis, squatted beside him. She, too, stared at the man. He was pale and flabby with a plump, round face and his blindly staring eyes still held a look of horrified surprise. His mouth was opened wide as though he wanted to scream out a final objection to his death. She glanced at Harry. "Are you getting anything?" She waited, knowing he would answer when he was ready. Seconds passed before Harry finally nodded. "I'm getting three words." He stared into the man's face. "You old bitch." Harry shook his head. "When he said those words he was in great pain. I think they were the last words he ever spoke." Vicky avoided Harry's eyes. She knew his history. She glanced through a doorway to an adjoining room. She could just see the crossed ankles of the elderly woman who had let them into the apartment. Vicky guessed the woman to be somewhere in her eighties. She was small and frail and Vicky had helped her to a chair before they went to examine the body. It was hard to imagine her plunging a heavy eight-inch butcher knife into a man's chest. She turned to Harry. "Are you thinking Grandma?" He nodded. "We better talk to her." Harry Doyle was six one with enough lean, hard muscle to fill out a fairly large frame. He had wavy brown hair and penetrating green eyes but he was far from a pretty boy. There was a ruggedly handsome look about him, but one that also warned of someone who should not be pushed too far. Yet those features quickly softened when a sense of playfulness