BY: ERNESTO PATINO
Hired to investigate the murder of an 84-year-old widow, P.I. Joe Coopersmith hits one dead end after another in his search for leads. With few clues and no suspects, he nearly gives up, until he uncovers a connection to a bizarre plot to kill the descendants of Irish soldiers who fought for Mexico during the Mexican-American War. Known as San Patricios, they belonged to the St. Patrick’s Battalion, an elite Mexican unit composed mostly of Irish Immigrants. When someone threatens Coopersmith’s life, he knows he’s on the right track. Undeterred, he digs deeper into the plot, soon learning the identity of the man behind it and his warped motive for the cold-blooded murder of the elderly widow.
MARY MACIEJEWSKI A GOODREADS REVIEWER SAYS: “I am giving, Enough To Make Angels Weep, by Ernesto Patino, 5 out of 5 stars.”
“It was amazing!
Enough To Make Angels Weep, by Ernesto Patino, is a crime mystery about Joe Coopersmith, former FBI Investigative Assistant, now Private Investigator. Carolyn Delany hired Coopersmith to solve the four-year unsolved mystery of the murder of her 84-year-old grandmother. The investigator quickly finds himself with few clues and no suspects. Frustrated, Coopersmith decides to give up but takes one last look at some photos at Carolyn’s house. That’s when he spots a connection. A plot to kill the descendants of Irish soldiers that fought for Mexico during the Mexican-American War. Upon further investigation, a diary is found identifying a man who was involved and the man’s motive for the murder of Dorothy Delany, Carolyn’s grandmother.
The theme of Patino’s novel centers around the Mexican-American War, and the Irish Famine. Both forced thousands of Irishmen to come to America to seek a better life. Coming to America didn’t make life better because while searching for work, they saw signs that read, “Irish Need Not Apply.” This caused many to join the Army. What does this have to do with Dorothy Delany’s murder? Plenty.
Patino’s setting is Tucson, Arizona. While a slow-paced, laid-back desert town, Coopersmith is juxtaposed with his rushed and pressured energy to find a killer. With each new clue he discovers, he finds more questions than answers. Yet, this pushes him closer to an answer, and closer to finding the window Delany’s killer.
Patino’s style is sharp, crisp, and to the point. He created Joe Coopersmith as a true detective. His dialogue is concise and engrossing. Words are not wasted. The dialogue definitely moves the story forward. The reader is sympathetic not only with Carolyn but also with Coopersmith.
I am giving, Enough To Make Angels Weep, by Ernesto Patino, 5 out of 5 stars. This novel was engaging from the start. The story was suspenseful with edge-of-your-seat drama. With each page, I wanted to know what happens next.
MONA ON GOODREADS SAYS: “I enjoyed reading this book and I highly recommend this story to others.”
Crime against each other changes the dynamic of society, having many people concerned about their safety and keeping a close eye on others each day. Unfortunately, we live in a strange world, where people are harming and killing people, yet not many cases are solved. Some wonder why the system doesn’t provide enough to assure civilians they are safe, even in their homes.
In “Enough to Make the Angels Weep,” author Ernesto Patino introduces his readers to a Private Investigator named Joe Coopersmith, hired by Carolyn Delaney to solve her grandmother, Mrs. Dorothy Delany’s 4-year-old murder case. Attempting to find any leads as to why someone would attack Mrs. Delany in her home, Coopersmith demonstrates that he takes pride in his investigative work. This private investigator does a great job of solving assigned cases. Ordinarily, many open cases he takes on would eventually lead to all questions answered and then some. But, he had no idea how deep of a rabbit hole he would end up falling in. One would assume a grandmother’s murder needs answers, maybe a simple case closed. Unfortunately, in the case of Mrs. Delaney, going further into the rabbit hole, Coopersmith sensed sinister activities as he learned new information about who could be behind the murder. It revolves around the historical recognition and image of Colonel William S. Harney, who was an officer of executions for the Irish Soldiers that fought alongside Mexican troops. Where historical facts meet a possible legend, one particular person of Colonel’s bloodline ensures the protection of this ancestor’s reputation, doing anything to keep him in a positive light. Whoever gets in the way of retrieving the journal said to contain the truth, painting the proper portrait of Colonel Harney, will feel their wrath. Unfortunately, this has led to quite a few deaths that sprang out of nowhere, along with those “car accidental” cases that ended up being a piece to this mega jigsaw puzzle. While the investigation has its share of starts and stops, Carolyn is experiencing a rough time of her life with deteriorating health she seeks answers to her grandmother’s demise.
The story continues to twist and turn in ways the reader is enveloped and committed to seeking answers. As you read, Coopersmith uncovers more mysteries that have been hidden for years because things tied into this investigation feel neverending. I enjoyed reading this book and I highly recommend this story to others. Be prepared for an intense reading experience that won’t allow you to set the book down.
We’re in front of a house where less than three hours ago, a neighbor discovered the bludgeoned body of eighty-four-year-old Dorothy Delaney,” said the TV reporter, a tall slender man with a somber expression. “Homicide detectives and the medical examiner are still inside going over the scene. At this point we can only speculate that the woman may have been the victim of a robbery gone bad.”
From the corner of his eye, the reporter spotted a jeans-clad young woman coming out of the house. He rushed toward her. “Ma’am, I understand you were the one who called 911. Can you tell us about it?”
“Well, I live across the street and frequently go over to check on Mrs. Delaney. Her husband died a little over a year ago. This morning I called like I usually do, but got no answer. So, I went over and rang the bell. When she didn’t respond I just knew something had happened. ‘It’s me, Nicole,’ I shouted. ‘Are you all right?’ Then I tried the door, which was unlocked, and walked in. That’s when I saw her lying on the floor with a big gash across her forehead.” She took a deep breath. “Her eyes were wide open and I could tell she was dead.”
“What else did you see?”
“Whoever killed her had trashed the place. Looking for valuables, I suppose. I ran out as fast as I could. I called the police from my house. They showed up a few minutes later.”
P.I. Joe Coopersmith sat at his desk and jotted some notes on a legal pad. When the phone rang, he pressed the Pause key on the remote.
“Hello?” he said into the receiver.
“Have you had a chance to review the items I sent you?”
Coopersmith recognized his client, Carolyn Delaney’s small, whispery voice. “I watched part of a TV interview of the young woman who discovered your grandmother’s body. I also read the newspaper articles and a copy of the police report.” He picked up one of the articles. “A four-year-old homicide with no suspects won’t be an easy case to solve. I may hit one dead end after another with nothing to show for my time except a big bill for my services. I just want to make sure you understand what we’re getting into.”
“I’m well aware of that, but I need to find out what happened, and more importantly why. My grandmother didn’t deserve to die that way. You come highly recommended Mr. Coopersmith. I hope you can help me find some answers—maybe force the police to re-open the case.”
“Are you still planning on coming here?”
“Just as soon as I close on the sale of my condo. I thought I might stay in my grandmother’s house. I’ve had a nice elderly couple—friends of my grandparents—take care of it since she died. In the meantime, do whatever you normally do in a case like this. You can fill me in on the details when I arrive, which should be in about a week or so. I’ll call a day or two before. Maybe you can pick me up at the airport, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“No problem. I’ll wait to hear from you.” He hung up the phone and reread the article.
The investigation into the brutal murder of Dorothy Delaney four years ago has been officially transferred to the cold case unit of the police department. The main reason, according to a spokesperson, is that all possible leads have been exhausted. Initially, it was believed that a homeless man who occasionally did odd jobs for her may have been involved. However, after questioning him and checking his alibi, investigators ruled him out as a suspect. Due to the lack of witnesses, and even a motive for the cold-blooded slaying, investigators are reluctant to say when or if the case can ever be solved.
A week later, Coopersmith picked up Carolyn Delaney at the Tucson Airport. He recognized her from a picture that had appeared in the paper: thirty-something with emerald green eyes, and soft freckles that dotted her otherwise unblemished face. Throughout the short drive to her grandmother’s house on the south side of town, he filled her in on his meeting with P.D. Detective Danny Montoya who’d worked on the case.
“They ran down dozens of leads. But none panned out. It didn’t look like an ordinary robbery, which raised more questions than answers. Whoever killed her left about forty bucks on the bureau along with some jewelry. Then he ransacked the house, searching for something…”
He shook his head. “Without knowing what he hoped to find, we’re really at a disadvantage. That’s why I need to pick your brain. I want to know all about your grandmother. What was she like? Her finances, friends, hobbies, places she visited. There may be something in her background the cops overlooked, or failed to take as seriously as they should have. By the way, in talking with Detective Montoya, I found out that about a week before she was killed, Immigration had detained a Mexican national at the port of entry at Nogales. He had a piece of paper in his pocket with your grandfather’s name and address. His visa expired the day before and they sent him back to the Mexican side.”
“Did anyone follow up on it?”
Coopersmith sighed. “Police discovered his body near a church in Nogales, Mexico two days before your grandmother was killed. He’d been stabbed multiple times.”
She became quiet for a moment. “So, he couldn’t have been the one. The one who killed her.”
Coopersmith shook his head. “It’s just one more piece of the puzzle I want to look into.”
“I’d like to help, but can it wait until tomorrow? I had a long flight and I need to crash for a couple of hours.”
“Sure. We can start in the morning.” He slowed to make a turn. Minutes later he pulled into the driveway of a sand-colored bungalow where a giant saguaro cactus stood, as though on guard near the walkway to the door. Evidence that someone had been taking care of the property was everywhere: neatly trimmed bushes and trees, porch area swept clean, recently planted gardenias in oversized pots. A ceramic hand-painted sign next to the doorway said: Bienvenidos Mi Casa Es Su Casa.
Coopersmith helped Carolyn with her luggage and waited for her to unlock the door.
“I know it won’t be an easy case, but like I said, I need answers. If you find something or if you don’t…” She shrugged. “All I ask is that you give it your best.”
Coopersmith nodded. “Tough case or not, I promise you this: I’ll pursue every lead until I find something that will point us in the right direction. At the very least, we’ll have a few more pieces of the puzzle.” He smiled. “See you in the morning.”