It all seemed so routine, the old lady dead in her bed, the grieving nephew and his lovely wife arranging a quick and quiet burial, with the seasoned undertaker and his policeman pal lending sympathetic service to their visitors from out of town.
But then Sammy Vanderhove and Chief Earl stir up the whole thing by finding the old Caddy with its trunk full of shiny gold bars in the garage behind the former movie star's house.
When Nathan Corso's gorgeous wife finds out about the diamonds, the ones the old lady had secretly stashed, well, she just has to have them. After all, Nathan is the only heir, and they belong to him, and she. . . er, he, should have them at any cost.
Problem is, others feel the same way, and they want the diamonds just as badly.
When bodies start turning up it's up to Chief Earl and his counterpart in small town Iowa to begin sorting it all out. They quickly find that nothing is as it appeared, and the chase is on, a chase that will leave one of them risking everything he had thought was dear.
Diamonds Aren't. . . is a tale of greed, lust, murder and mayhem, but most importantly, a tale of begrudged friendship with a heavy dose of wry humor. Chuckle along with Sammy, Earl and Johnny as they ogle and slog through the adventure to arrive at its bizarre and warmly satisfying conclusion.
