Rommel's Black Box

Field Marshall Irwin Rommel's most revered treasure was a Back Box given to him by the Adolf Hitler. In part the box contained a special Walther PPK; an ivory handled German officer's dagger, and solid gold Knight of the Knights Iron Cross. Rommel, known as The Desert Fox, added to the box 300 of the largest diamonds to be found anywhere on the continent of Africa. This treasure was only one part of an array of spoils seized, by the Germans during the African Campaign segment of WW II. The theme of the story centers on this treasure and the surreptitious relationship that existed between the Field Marshall and a United States Army Air Corp General who was in charge of the European-African-Middle Eastern Theater of operations. The treasure that was flown by a USAAC B-17 bomber from Tunisia, off the north-east coast of Africa, never made it to its pre-determined designation, Corsica.The box changed hands a few times and caused many deaths before coming to its half century resting place on the island of Sardinia off the coastline of Italy. After sitting for fifty plus years the box was again on the move and immediately the killings started just as they had in the past when the box did not have a home. Now after the turn of the century the box traveled from Sardinia to New York and to then to the eastern shores of Long Island. It made its way as far south as the Treasure Coast of Florida and had left the country a number of times before returning. During its journey it left a trail of death, destruction, excitement, and terror.This book is also about retired NYPD homicide Detective Michael "Mickey" Ross who inadvertently, as a private investigator, becomes involved in the search for the black box. Ross is a fictional character I created within the scheme of my imagination. Although he is fictional I have gently infused many of my life's real experiences into the soul of this imaginary character. Ross handles the problems surrounding the box in a professional manner but not without being involved in killings, attempted murder, and mayhem in Palermo, Italy. All of the above happened after his retirement during a time when Ross opened up a private investigation (P.I.) business in an affluent Westchester New York community. Ironically you just don't find P.I.'s hanging a shingle out in wealthy neighborhoods. Ross was supposed to be retired. He became a P. I. because he just couldn't give up the thrill of the chase and the adrenaline rush that every street cop lives for. He found more satisfaction doing private investigations than he did as a first grade homicide detective. Now there was no rule book to follow and no Monday morning quarterbacks. During this episode Mickey goes from the middle class world he was accustomed to into a higher social stratum where he experiences the lifestyles of the rich and famous. It didn't matter to Mickey where he was going because he was never forgetting where he came from. He no longer drove a Volkswagen Rabbit but instead had become accustomed to his Ultimate Driving Machine. During one episode his 750 BMW, in a remote sort of way, saves his life. Mickey Ross had run the entire gamut from bottom to top and to boot experienced the American dream. He had numerous friends in government, politics and the mafia. In many ways Ross is the guy that many cops and ordinary people long to be like. It was my intent to write a series of books that were filled with fast, easy reading, appealing stories that would hold the readers interest throughout the book. As these stories progress and the characters grow Ross becomes a little older and wiser. He definitely appreciates the latter as opposed to the former. One of my other pre-requisites in writing this Trilogy was to present each book as a STAND ALONE novel and not subjugate the copy with fifty-cent words like subjugate. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it Rich Scholer
About the Author: This is the first autobiography I have written. I do feel a bit self-serving writing it but here goes. I was luckier than most kids because I grew up poor. Starting at the bottom gave me the advantage of appreciating those small experiences that are taken for granted by so many. I survived the New York City school system and by the time I graduated high school Elvis was singing "Heartbreak Hotel." After two years at Colorado A & M I dropped out. It was probably the best two years of my life. Over the next five years I drove a truck and completed at tour in the US Army. In 1962 I was appointed to the position of Trooper on the New York State Police. At thirty I married the girl of my dreams and we have three wonderful daughters. In 1968 I received a promotion to Detective/ Investigator and was assigned to work specifically on Organized Crime investigations and undercover narcotics cases. I was given a Federal clearance by the US Attorney's Office while assigned to various Federal & State Strike Forces in the NYC area. I was at Woodstock (1969) and made drug buys. I continued working narcotics cases in NYC, drove an undercover taxi, installed wiretaps, and had a partner that was shot and killed during a drug buy and bust deal gone bad. It was during this time that I was promoted to Detective Supervisor/ Senior Investigator and earned a bachelor's degree from S.U.N.Y. and a master's degree from Long Island University. I retired in the early eighties, did some private investigations work, tried commercial fishing and obtained a Coast Guard charter captain license. I ended up in business where I experienced the American Dream. I didn't start to write until I was in my late sixties and had lost most of my hearing. By not being able to hear it allowed me to enter into a special world of fantasy. I wrote five books before I had any thoughts of publishing. I presently reside, with my wife of 47 years, in New York spending my time between Westchester County and the Hamptons on Long Island. During the winter months I will be on the Treasure Coast, usually in Vero Beach, Florida. Last year, while alone on my boat in Shinnecock Bay NY I died of sudden cardiac arrest. I was brought back to life minutes later by an act of serendipity performed by my buddy who I call Mickey. Mickey is an implanted defibrillator who permanently resides under my skin below my left shoulder. That is my 45,000 word autobiography in 450 words.