Acquiring a Used Sig...

by Ben Small



Your protag or perp may need a gun...fast. Chances are that gun will be used. For those of you who know something about pistols, the name Sig Sauer will hold a special place in your heart and mind. Sig Sauers are legendary: The Sig P210, no longer in production, is widely regarded as the most accurate production pistol ever produced; the Sig P220 is regarded as one of the finest .45 acp pistols all time; same with the P226 in .40 or 9mm, essentially a similar design, and the Sig P228 and P229 are carried by the Secret Service, the FBI and the National Park Service. The Sig X-5 and Sig X-6, match versions of the P226 and the P220 Match series are regarded as the new standards in match pistols, on a par with the legendary P210.

But Sigs aren't cheap. Glock carries a much larger market share because they're cheaper, much cheaper; they're polymer based. But even with plastic pistols, the Sig Pro line and the brand new and revolutionary P250 are not only competitive in price with the Glocks, but also in reliability and in the all important "feel." The P250 is special; one pistol convertible to different calibers, size and grip. Amazing. Nobody else's pistols can brag of that. Sig has opened a new door in pistol design, one to which nobody else is even close.

I've got eight Sigs, and here's why: feel, reliability and accuracy; what shooting is all about.

So your protag or perp needs a pistol, and he needs one quickly. What does he look for? How can he tell if his pistol will fire or if it's only good as a hammer?

Flork (real name Scott Folk), whose article on buying a used pistol I'm quoting below, is a gunsmith with Gray Guns http://www.grayguns.com, perhaps the most respected master Sig gunsmithing operation in the world. Flork is a member of SigForum, as is Bruce Gray, owner of Gray Guns. (You may have seen Bruce on various shooting television programs.) You should check out SigForum; it's perhaps the finest gun forum (not limited to Sigs) on the web. http://Sigforum.com SigForum is ruled by folks who don't tolerate jerks, and many law enforcement, military and gunsmiths are active members. You have a legitimate question? Ask SigForum. There are over forty-five thousand members. You'll get an answer quickly. But don't be snide, and be careful about sarcasm. Sarcasm is tolerated where deserved, but newbies best be careful. I lurked before I posted, and that was wise, lest my involvement and comments be viewed as trolling or unwelcome. Legitimacy is what SigForum is all about, and it's okay to ask stupid questions. Trust me: I do it all the time.

Anyway, I was all set to post about a recent range experience I had and what I learned from it that might be of use to writers, but then tonight I saw Flork's post about what to look for in a used Sig, and I thought Flork's comments the more useful to you.

So with all credit due to Flork and Gray Guns, here is what Flork says you should look for in buying a used Sig. (http://sigforum.com/eve/forums/a/tpc/f/430601935/m/3951014551) I thought Scott Folk's (Flork's) comments were spot on.


The first thing to look at is the Frame rails. These will tell you everything that you need to know about how well the gun has been taken care of. The Following is how the colors of the under side of the frame rails will change as your gun wears.

1) Dull Black - No Wear, perfect finish.

2) Shiny Black - Slight wearing in of the pigment in the Anodizing, this is normal after around 200 rounds.

3) Dark Gold/Orange - The Pigment in the Anodizing is starting to wear, this is perfectly normal and not a problem, the metal is still protected and your frame is still perfectly viable. Most guns reach this phase between 2000 and 4000 rounds.

4) Bright Gold - The pigment in the anodizing is wearing in. Your frame is still protected and your gun is still perfectly viable. Most guns reach this phase and remain static from here on out as long as proper lubrication is used.

5)Light Gold - The pigment in your anodizing is wearing through, your frame is still protected, but you should keep an eye on it.

6) Shiny Silver - This is where you need to start to worry. The pigment in the Anodizing is worn through, your frame is still protected, but you need to monitor your frame rails very closely and make sure they remain greased thoroughly for the rest of your gun's life.

7) Dull Silver - You're screwed. Your Anodizing has worn completely through in the areas you see dull anodizing. From here on your frame is unprotected and it's time to buy a new gun. It may still shoot and function perfectly, but your frame rails will continue to wear at a much accelerated rate.

The next thing to look at is the disconnector tab on your trigger bar. That's the part of the trigger bar that sits up highest in the frame. A factory new trigger bar will have a nice radius across the top, a heavily used one will have a flat worn into it. The best way to check and make sure it's still functioning correctly is to pull the slide back by 1/4 of an inch and pull the trigger, if the hammer doesn't try to fall you're ok.

The Next place to look at is the barrel. You will notice the "smileys" on the barrel on the muzzle end. If you run your finger down the barrel and feel a dip, you may want to have the gun looked at by a professional, the slide should not be abrading the barrel enough to remove any metal at all. The presence of a dip in the metal would indicate that your slide has a burr in it.

If you look at the front of the chamber section at the top of the barrel you will see a ledge that steps down just before the tube part of the barrel starts. The ledge there should be at a clear 90 degree angle, any rolling of that sharp corner would indicate a soft barrel or one which hasn't been lubricated properly.

The slide should also be inspected. The slide lock lever detent on the slide should be looked at for burrs or any rounding on the rear or the notch. A burr sticking out can abrade your thumbs if you shoot a thumbs forward grip. A burr on the slide could indicate a slightly soft slide or that the previous shooter kept their thumb on the slide lock lever. A rounded off notch at the back would indicate an improper heat treat of the slide.


And so says Flork, someone whose opinion I can always count on...

'... the surest poison"

That's a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson, and also the title of Chester Campbell's book launching a brand-new series. The man just never quits!
Chester is a southern gentleman, and not the pushy type, so I'm giving his new book a little push of my own.

I'm reprinting here an excellent review of THE SUREST POISON. The reviewer is Gloria Feit, and I have her permission for this reprint.

Gloria and her husband Ted are active reviewers on the DorothyL mystery listserv, and for author Lorie Ham's online No Name Cafe. The Feits live a few miles outside of New York City. For 26 years, Gloria was the office manager of a medium-size law firm in downtown Manhattan. Ted is an attorney and former stock analyst, publicist and writer/editor for several daily, weekly and monthly publications. Their reviews appear online as well as in three print publications in the U.S. and U.K.

And now, applause, applause ....
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Review by Gloria Feit, as published on the DorothyL listserv. Reprinted here with Gloria’s gracious permission.
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THE SUREST POISON by Chester Campbell
Night Shadows Press April 2009
ISBN: 978-0-9799167-9-3 Hardcover, 272 pp., $26.95
[Simultaneous release in pb, ISBN 978-0-9799167-8-6, $15.95]

Sid Chance is a former member of the Army Special Forces in Vietnam and a former National Parks ranger for eighteen years, as well as a small town police chief for ten, forced out of office when falsely charged with bribery. Never finding who had set out to destroy him, he has taken refuge for the past three years in a rustic cabin [read “no electricity or running water”] fifty miles east of Nashville.

As the book opens he finds himself wondering “if he'd made the right decision in leaving. Going back to the type of work he had pursued for more than three decades left him exposed to the same flawed humanity that had chased him up here in the first place.” But he is coaxed out of his hermit-like existence by his old friend Jasmine (Jaz) LeMieux, who has recommended him to a corporate attorney and his client who is facing major financial disaster unless he can be cleared in a chemical pollution case. Sid is hired to find the company which had owned the property previously which, they are convinced, is the true culprit.

Jaz is quite a character, literally and figuratively. She “had the looks and the brains to be whatever she wanted, and she had the money and the contacts to pull it off.” Her c.v. includes having been a professional boxer, member of the Security Police with the Air Force, cop, board chairman of a major company, and during the course of the book is applying for a p.i. license, the better to enable her to work with Sid, finding she “couldn't resist the lure of the chase.”

A second story line evolves when Jaz's employees, a couple in their late seventies, plead with Jaz to help when their grandson and his nine-year-old son are threatened. When Sid assists in this effort, it means he must, with misgivings, return for the first time to the small town he had left in disgrace nearly four years earlier.

The author smoothly blends the two investigations being worked on by Sid and Jaz, which is accomplished with a little help from his friends, which include his poker-playing pals, the “Five Felons,” comprised of a Metro police sergeant, a retired newspaper crime writer, a former Criminal Court Judge, and a local homicide detective, charmingly named "Bart Masterson."

The reader is treated to a good old-fashioned detective story -- and that is intended as very high praise -- with swear words at a minimum, any violence not of the graphic variety, instead a more subtle but no less lethal kind, interspersed with ominous threats, some vague and some pointed.

The title comes from a line by Ralph Waldo Emerson, which “named such
things as alcohol and strychnine but concluded …’the surest poison is time.’”

Mr. Campbell has written another terrific novel, one that is recommended.
(Review by Gloria Feit)
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The Realm of Mystery

by Jean Henry Mead

A ouija board introduced me to the realm of mystery. As a young teen, my cousins and I also discovered table tapping. Sitting around a small table with our hands lightly resting on its top, we asked the table questions. The room was dark with the exception of a single burning candle.

After the question was asked, the table would lift high enough to tap two legs on the floor, once for yes, twice for no. Each of us swore we weren't causing the table to move, but tap the floor it did, causing some of us to run from the room screaming. But that didn't stop us from repeating our spooky game every chance we could.

The ouija board was supposed to predict the future, although my cousin Mary didn't marry Sam Gufstason, the name spelled out on the board more than once. It was during this period that I discovered my psychic ability. One night before spending the night at Mary's house, I dreamed she would be waiting to scare me in a dark, L-shaped hallway.

The following night, after leaving the bathroom to return to bed, I knew that she was there in the hall, although I couldn't see her. From then on, I had premonitions of things to come. Once, unbeknown to me, my sister-in-law gave birth to a premature baby. When the phone rang, I grasped the receiver, saying, "It's a boy." When I put the phone to my ear, I heard my brother-in-law say exactly the same thing. I always seemed know who was on the phone years before caller I.D. was available. I have to admit it was a bit unnerving.

A news reporter during the Vietnam War, my beat was the nation's largest Naval Air Station in Lemoore, California. I instintively knew which pilots would return home and who wouldn't. I didn't want to know and did my best to block out any psychic revelations that came my way. Eventually, I was successful. Now, I welcome them and the premonitions are beginning to return.

I also found that I could accurately read palms and people appeared at my door asking for readings. I obliged them and probably could have made a career of it, but foretelling unfortunte events really takes its toll.

I haven't read a palm since visiting my brother at his coast guard station years ago. One night at the base in Neah Bay, I did an impromptu reading at the NCO club. A young man asked if I knew when he had been born. When I told him, he backed away, yelling, "You're a witch." Another reason I blocked my psychic power. I don't look good in tall, black, pointed hats.

I now realize that I was probably responsible for the table taping as a teen, and years later I actually met Sam Gufstason, who was married to a woman named Mary.

Too bad I can't predict my own future.

The End of the World As We Know It

By Beth Terrell

Last night, our critique group drifted into a discussion of the volcanic disaster that is supposed to end the world in 2012. Imagine my surprise when I logged onto Murderous Musings today and discovered that Mark had blogged about that very thing. We were talking about the big Yellowstone Park eruption, while Mark's is half a world away, but the results are apparently the same. I shudder to think of the consequences should both of these seismological events occur at or near the same time. I'm not a brave person, as we've discussed in past posts, so all this apocalyptic talk has me a little on edge. I've always wanted to go to Yellowstone, but maybe I'll put off my travel plans until 2013!

Of course, people who know about these things assure me that the 2012 date is a misinterpretation of the Mayan calendar. Our own Pat Browning directed me to some Mayan calendar articles by Ivan Van Laningham at http://www.pauahtun.org. They're interesting reading, if you can keep your head from exploding. For those who write fantasy, there's some good fodder here.

I got the sense that Mark's tone was somewhat less than 100% serious, but his article reminded me of Isaac Asimov, who, when asked what he would do if he knew he had only six months to live, said, "Type Faster."

So, how about you? If you knew the world really was about to end, what would you do? Kiss your spouse, cuddle your puppy, call your mother, eat a whole hot fudge cake all by yourself? Type faster? Maybe, for some of us, all of the above. (Well, okay, maybe I'd share the hot fudge cake.)

One member of our critique group suggested that the Mormons might come out of it all right, because they're supposed to keep at least two years worth of canned goods and water on hand at all times, which would give the ash time to blow off (or whatever volcanic ash does) and for things to start growing again. I started to think of all the other things you might need, such as vegetable seeds, potting soil, full-spectrum light bulbs, generators, air purifiers to circulate the air inside whatever bunker or safehouse you might end up in. That reminded me of the Brendan Frazer movie, Blast From the Past, which is about a couple in the 1950's who believe there's been a nuclear attack (because a plane crashes in their yard) and go down into their underground bunker to live for the next 30 years. The woman is pregnant with our hero, who forays out into the real world as an adult to re-stock their supplies and, naturally, runs into a woman with whom he fals in love at first sight. (It's a fun little movie, one of my guilty pleasures.)

Anyway, that made me wonder what would happen if the bunker were buried under a thick layer of volcanic ash. What would happen then? Would they be able to open the hatch when their two years was up? What would they find when they got there? Would it be as bleak as Carmac McCarthy's The Road? And what about life in the bunker itself? What kind of people might end up in the same bunker, and what kinds of social dynamics might develop? What if the group woke up one morning to find that one of their own had been murdered? Why did it happen? Who did it? How would they deal with the discovery that they are trapped underground with a killer?

You see the way my mind works. One minute, I'm worrying about the impending end of the world, and the next, I have a new story idea, which is aheck of a lot more fun. And that, my friends, is why we should all take a tip from the master: just type faster.

Write Like There's No Tomorrow!

By Mark W. Danielson

Recently, my wife and I watched a disaster show on volcanoes. It seems disaster themes are quite popular these days. Heck, I even wrote a story about a disaster on San Francisco Bay's Hayward Fault, but I’m withholding that one for a future release. Actually, this TV show we saw was interesting because it spoke of an unthinkable volcanic eruption of Indonesia's Anak Krakatau that as a minimum would wipe out most of Indonesia’s population within seconds, followed by the rest of the world over a couple of years. You see, the ash cloud from this eruption will engulf the Earth in darkness for 18 months, during which time, all vegetation will die, famine, war, and cannibalism will break out, and if that doesn’t kill you, the plague will. Cool.

Now, I must admit that this TV prediction has merit. After all, the 1883 Krakatau eruption was so enormous, the sound was heard 3000 miles away and was labeled the loudest noise ever recorded on Earth. But that wasn't the first time Krakatau blew. In fact, they say its first eruption actually split Indonesia in two. With that in mind, I’ll refer to the prophecy behind Anak Krakatau’s impending eruption as the "Big Bang Theory". What? That one’s taken, you say? Well, how about "Armageddon"? No? Okay, forget the labels, but be prepared to repent, for The End is Near! In fact, this TV show we watched even gave us a date. That’s right; 2012 marks the official beginning of the end of the world as we know it. When Krakatau blows again, all that will survive is cockroaches and sharks. (Okay, throw in a few FedEx pilots because we seem to survive every disaster, too.) What I find interesting is this TV program didn’t mention that one of the world’s largest magma deposits resides right in my own back yard—Yellowstone National Park. Then again, there's a separate disaster show that covers that one. (I’ve watched it.)

So, with all of these impending disasters, it’s clear that we authors must write like there’s no tomorrow, for clearly, we only have three years left. (Perhaps less, depending upon when, in 2012, disaster strikes.) The good thing is that we no longer have to worry about getting our books into bookstores or Amazon.com’s ranking. We can also forget about saying the wrong thing on a blog, for it will soon be forgotten—except to those fortunate souls who may be orbiting above the ash cloud. (And I’m not referring to astronauts.) Another bright side is future space explorers will spend years inspecting the infrastructure we left behind, trying to determine what happened to our civilization. (Consider all the years that we’ve spent trying to comprehend the fall of the Roman Empire.) Then again, maybe these explorers will find a transcribed version of what I’m writing now and it will all make sense to them.

With our time so short, I believe every writer has a responsibility to crank out as much writing as possible between now and 2012. If you’re a celebrity, then hire a ghost writer, slap your name on it, and flood the bookstore shelves while you can. For all of you cookbook authors, toss out your recipes for road kill, for we’ll need it in the near future. And for those of you who are concerned about global warming, consider investing in cold weather gear, for the "Big Chill" is yet to come. Yes, prepare yourselves, for it must be true. After all, it’s the Word of the Prophets as well as the National Geographic Channel's. Three years from now, you’ll thank me for having given you this warning.

(Top photo of Chile volcano. Bottom photo is Anak Krakatau's November 2007 eruption)

A Look Back at SleuthFest 2009

By Chester Campbell

I attended the SleuthFest mystery conference at Deerfield Beach, FL the past weekend. It was the eighth Sarah and I have enjoyed, skipping only the 2007 event at Miami Beach (which was too costly). Around 250 people were there, mostly published and waiting-to-be-published writers. As usual, it was an excellent conference.

I participated on two panels–“Research” and “Private Eyes”–and sat through several others on various subjects. After you’ve attended twenty or thirty writers’ conferences, you hear a lot of the same stuff over and over. Now and then you get a new slant on a subject, but what I find most valuable is that I’m reminded of things I already know but have neglected to do.

So now I need to sit down and go over the ideas that have been refreshed in my mind and make sure I put them to use.

Guests of Honor are always interesting and inspirational. This year's headliners were Brad Meltzer and John Hart. Both told how they got their start in mystery writing and the paths they followed to the bestseller lists. Meltzer repeated a line I've heard from other bestselling authors: "Write what you're really passionate about. If you don't, it will show in your writing."

The other major thing I get out of conferences is the making of new friends and renewal of old friendships. The young unpublished author who moderated one of my panels bought two of my books and told me I was his new favorite mentor. I was quite flattered and hope I was of some help to him.

I met several other emerging authors at meal functions and answered their questions as best I could. I recall the jumpstart I got from attending my first SleuthFest before Secret of the Scroll came out. We sat next to Patricia Sprinkle at lunch one day, and she gave me several pieces of valuable advice. I also attended a panel where Nancy Cohen distributed a handout that contained an article she had written about things to do before your book is published. I still use those tips.

Among old friends we chatted with was Randy Rawls, this year’s SleuthFest chairman. We became friends at one of my earliest conferences and have served on panels together and attended many of the same events. Randy has experienced some of the same publisher problems I have, so we often commiserate with one another.

I don’t expect to sell many, if any, books at a conference. And with the current state of the economy, with gasoline prices and hotel stays on the increase, I’m cutting back on my travels, attending fewer conferences and more book fairs and similar events where selling books is the whole idea.

This Saturday, a writing colleague and I will have a booth at Goodpasture Christian School’s Marketplace. It is not far from where we live in Madison and where our grandson goes to school. I love to attend conferences, but finding a venue to potentially sell lots of books is a great opportunity not to be missed.

Check out Mystery Mania.

Pistol Packing Perp...

by Ben Small



When my editor read my “polished” draft of Alibi On Ice, my first entry into the mystery/thriller market, he phoned me, outraged, fit to be tied. I imagined foam spewing from his mouth, a geyser at Yellowstone.

What had I done so wrong?

“Snub-nose revolvers don’t have a safety,” he said, so loudly I tilted the receiver away. “Anybody who knows anything about guns knows that.”

Well, I didn’t. But then I didn’t know anything about guns. I thought every modern gun had a safety.

“Look,” he said, “if you’re gonna write mysteries and thrillers, you gotta understand that there’s a huge gun culture audience reading the genre. And there’s nothing they’ll spot quicker than a gun error.”

I must have sounded a bit doubtful. More likely I was just embarrassed.

“Do you have any idea how many NRA members there are?" he said.

“Nope.”

“Neither do I. But look it up. You’ll be shocked.”

I was. The numbers were enormous.

So my editor suggested I purchase some guns and get to know them. He suggested I obtain a concealed carry permit, not just for personal protection, although more and more that alone seems a good enough justification ― especially when one has white hair. No. He wanted realism, not boring page-after-page Clancy-style engineering detail, but pixie dust particulars that fit the character, his knowledge, his planning and his execution. For instance, a pistol-packer will walk, sit and act differently from an unarmed person. Cops know this. They look for people not walking normally, maybe not swinging one arm as much as the other. They’ll look for the reassuring pat, the yup-it’s-still-there touch to the cargo pants pocket, the upper chest-armpit junction or the belt. Or if it’s an ankle holster, the packing leg’s stride will be just a bit shorter than the free leg. Or they’ll look for the print, the telltale lump, sag or barrel outline.

Cops can spot these things from a distance. And so can you if you know what to look for. Adding some of these considerations to your perp’s conduct will make him or her more real. (Note: I’m addressing the perp here. While the same considerations apply to protagonists, I prefer messing with bad guys.)

It’s a simple fact that carrying a pistol is not comfortable. Pistols are heavy and mostly made of metal. No matter where you put the thing, you’re gonna be aware of its presence.

Most Inside the Waistband holsters (“IWB”) are placed on the side, either strong side or cross-draw. This means an added two inches to your belt and waist. Think about that after a large meal. And what about material? Your IWB holster most likely will be made of leather (cowhide or horsehide) or Kydex, a hard plastic mold. Expect chafing; there’s a direct correlation between your girth and how much skin you lose. And of course, the larger the pistol, the greater your skin lotion outlay. Add in hot weather, and you’d better line up a dermatologist.

Obviously, an Outside the Waistband holster (“OWB”) presents more concealment challenges than the IWB. The thing is hanging off your belt, for Chrissakes. An untucked shirt may adequately conceal an IWB packed with a Baby Glock (a G26 or 27), but good luck concealing a bazooka tugging at your belt. You’ll need a long winter overcoat.

A pistol-packer will find sitting no joy, especially in a car. Imagine the fun of managing the seat belt/carry position alternatives. Move your holster to your back? Then you’ve got metal resting against your backbone. Take those speed bumps slowly, and pray no one rear-ends you.

Shoulder harnesses aren’t comfortable either. They need support, which means the carry side is offset by straps around the non-carry shoulder and maybe a tie-down on the belt. Need a loose shirt or a jacket to conceal that arrangement. And get used to feeling constrained, as both shoulders and maybe your belt are all tugged together by hanging pistol weight. A man will quickly learn why a large breasted woman hates her brassiere.

What about an ankle holster? Truth be told, they’re not practical. Cops only use them as backups. And for good reason: extraction and re-holstering are not easy or fast. Ankle holsters are tight; they have to be. Lots of wrestling with taut elastic or leather and snaps. Driving is difficult with an ankle holster, and you’ve got hard metal close to your very sensitive ankle bone.

Ouch.

Of course, many of these considerations apply only to men, if women are smart and use a purse holster. A fanny pack is about as close to this option as a man can get. A man wearing a purse might as well be wearing neon shoes. People will stare.

Some pistol-packers worry that a fanny pack screams GUN, but that’s nonsense. Athletes wear them; hikers wear them, and tourists wear them. Coupled with the right clothing, a fanny pack may well go unnoticed.

Regardless, however, what concealment option your perp chooses, he or she will remain very conscious of what they’re carrying.

And that’s the biggest tell of all.

Drop some of these considerations in your character’s conduct like pixie dust. Don’t overdo it, be subtle. You’ll draw your reader deeper into your character and your story.