Excerpt from Murder at the 42nd Street Library by Con Lehane, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"She had a house. She made a living," Adele said. Her mother had worked for the telephone company since she graduated high school. "And she had a child she raised by herself. A child was something, even if it was only me." Adele's voice held a good deal of regret. Things had gone wrong in her life. Her father left her mother and her early on. She'd had her own difficulties, an early romance that went badly. She didn't explain and he didn't ask. He sensed that what they spoke about made little difference. Talking kept her connected to someone. When he left, she'd be alone, alone in a different way than she'd ever been.

Later, on the long, jerky train ride back to Manhattan, mired in Adele's sadness, as if it were contagious, he began to think about the murder at the library. The subway car, dingy and dimly lit, with only a few other passengers, tired and bedraggled as he was, had an ominous feel, reminding him he was in the city late at night and danger wasn't far away—not as much danger as in years past, but reason to keep alert. He eyed his fellow passengers and checked the subway's doors each time they opened.

Thinking about the murder depressed him. At the same time, an unsolved, or yet to be solved, homicide piqued his interest. He'd believed since he read Camus in college that taking someone's life for any reason could not be justified. He saw no irony between this belief, a kind of pacifism, and his interest in homicide investigation. Camus's characters battled pestilence without hope but without despair. "The task is impossible," Camus said, "so let us begin."

Excerpted from Murder at the 42nd Street Library by Con Lehane. Copyright © 2016 by Con Lehane. Excerpted by permission of Minotaur Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.