Chapter 7 of Detective Riley’s First Case opens with Riley, a Baltimore Homicide Detective, driving home to his narrow row house facing on the harbor. He is looking forward to the welcome of his black lab Irish, who shares the house with him, when he is rudely interrupted by a laconic announcement from the police radio in his ancient police Dodge. The dispatcher says they have a report of a gunman taking a woman hostage and entering a house and gives the address. Riley is just passing the address. He pulls to the curb, tells the dispatcher he is on the scene and please advise all responding officers to challenge before firing. He gets out and approaches the house unaware that he is beginning an adventure that will end his career as a homicide detective but also win him the admiration of the US Vice President.

Which is why, when terrorists hide a nuclear bomb in Manhattan and the Vice President can’t reach the President (who’s off playing war games) he remembers his father’s advice: “There’s nothing smarter than a smart cop!” and sends the cop he most admires -- Riley, a burly, hard-drinking ex-paratrooper like himself, recently terminated from the Baltimore Homicide squad because he took too many chances -- to find it.

Poor Riley, who doesn’t lack either nerve or brains, is totally clueless about where to begin the search, as he is handed his first case after getting a private investigator’s license. He regards that license as about as useful as Irish’s dog license, because he won’t handle divorce cases. His first case turns out to be one of staggering proportions, enough to terrify, and baffle, any cop.

Fortunately the White House also sends beautiful, blonde and smart Secret Service Agent Casey along with him as his make-believe wife (Riley is single) and his actual bodyguard, although Riley doesn’t look as if he needs a bodyguard. Casey is far from clueless, and before their plane lands in New York she has come up with a search plan so clever that you hope our government considers it should we ever be faced with the real thing.

When it comes to danger, they find a lot more than they expected.

When it comes to sex, Casey wonders if she is a lesbian and is seduced and falls in love with her attractive woman psychiatrist who dresses up for martini hour at home with Casey, when she wears a riding crop stuck into one of her shiny, knee-high stiletto boots.

Casey insists on bringing Riley’s black lab Irish, who is pretty smart himself, along with them.

That turns out to be a good idea, because they need all the help they can get when the shooting starts.