MORAL DILEMMA
By
REID JACKSON
PROLOGUE
Jack had taken a job as an associate detective with a reputable detective agency in San Francisco. After his injuries while on a secret mission for the Navy he quit and took his disability pension. He wouldn’t be content with a desk job.
During one of his assignments he became involved in a MORAL DILEMMA. This is that story.
CH. 1 THE UNHOLY PRIEST
He stalked the lady for two weeks. He was meticulous and methodical; and she was married without children. She resembled his whoring mother who had shamed and emasculated him. The world would be rid of such vermin. It would be the fourth victim in the cleansing. Today would be the climax of his psychotic thoughts.
She was structured and her activity was predictable. Her husband would be absent tonight; he was in a business meeting in Phoenix. The house was compromised with a bug he installed in their living room. The killer gathered information to fulfill the plan and his quest. He took the time and patience to do his victim. He had placed the bug in the house earlier; gathering his needed information. It was dusk and he was ready.
It was a quiet estate situated on five lovely acres; the house was magnificently built in the colonial style with rock facade and landscaping accentuating the peaceful tranquility. The evening was perfect as he drove up the driveway to fulfill his destiny. The excitement was building as the distance to the house was diminishing. He was dressed as a priest because the mission was blessed. He rang the door bell.
“Yes.” The intercom spoke.
“Is this Mrs. Templer?”
“Yes, how may I help you?” The intercom seemed impatient.
“Mrs. Clarisse Bergman sent me to visit you.”
“Oh, Clarisse sent you, certainly come in.” The door answered with a joyful buzz.
The deceitful predator entered. The name Clarisse was extracted from the bug and expedited his entrance. “Clarisse asked that I visit you.”
“For what reason?” Robin had no idea why Clarisse sent a priest.
“She wanted you to have a gift.”
“That dear girl, what gift would she give me?”
“Heaven or hell!”
Robin froze at the remark and felt a deadly chill surge through her body. Something is terribly wrong here and I feel the evil. I need to do something, but what?
“Can I get you something to drink?”
He grinned, his eyes betraying her last moments. Robin sprang for the door but then two hands gripped her neck jerking her backwards while closing her air passageway. She kicked and squirmed but it was useless as her life drained from his deadly grip. I’m going to die, oh God, help me, I’m not alone, what is this feeling that now holds me? I see a glow that is soft and warm, that comforts me. I must go to that warmth that fills my heart. I see a vague figure standing with open arms, he’s majestic with love surrounding me, caressing me. Who is this creature waiting for me? Could it be?
She had a pleasant smile; her face seemed to glow as he stared. He cut off her wedding finger then left a message on her forehead in virulent red lipstick. WHORING BITCH!
ddd
The killer left the house as a car was coming in the driveway; a man exited the car and approached the priest.
“Hello father.”
“Good evening.”
“Is Mrs. Hardesty home?”
“Yes, can I be of help?”
“Would you give her this?” He was carrying a small portable cooler. He withdrew a .22 Rugar six shot and aimed it at the killer priest.
“You’ve performed your last rites”
“Wha---“`Pop` The bullet left a telltale hole in the middle of the forehead. The startled priest fell; he had strangled his last victim.
ddd
Detective Sampson was talking with the CSI investigator.
“This is weird.”
“No shit.” The CSI investigator agreed.
“The Unholy Priest committing his fourth killing then being shot as he was leaving.”The police were actively hunting for The Unholy Priest and the community had been alerted.
“Damnest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Detective Sampson was stymied at the double killing. The killer of the serial killer was perplexing. He had to know when, where, and the exact time of the serial killers and the
strangulation of Mrs. Robin Hardesty.
CH. 2 FAST JACK
He was moving along smoothly as the wheels clicked over the separations in the sidewalk- tic-tic-tic. Jack was a striking figure in his wheelchair. The caps just below his knees added to his total look of mystic and curiosity. They were stainless steel caps just below the knees were his legs had been shot off. His upper body was muscular with his arms betraying his strength. He had a square jaw and was an attractive man topped with pure blonde hair cut short. Judging from his arm length he would be six feet two and weigh two hundred and twenty pounds if he still had all of his legs.
The two gang members had been watching Jack for a few minutes; they noticed he was dressed as if he might have a bit of cash. Both were dressed in ganger type outfits and had the usual tattoos denoting their gang affiliation. They wore oversized colorful pro football jackets with baggy jeans hanging low on their buttocks. Tattoos’ were on their hands and necks. This was going to be easy, they thought, as they walked up to Jack.
“Hey man, you get around in dat wheelchair man.”
Jack didn’t respond but just kept tic-tic-tic. “Hey man, I’s yakin at ya.”
“Fuck off, punks.” Snapped Jack”
The two gangers looked at each other and grinned. “Hey bro we need some cash.”
Jack stopped his wheelchair and looked up at the two punks, “You boys better get home before you get hurt.”His eyes revealed his steady look of defiance.
“Youse a smart mouth muther for a dickhead.”
Then the larger of the two reached out to grab Jack with his left hand and his right hand produced a six inch switchblade. Jack was faster than Muhammad Ali thrusting a jab. He caught the punk’s left hand and twisted it back and down with his strength and rammed his fist into the punk’s face knocking him flat on his ass. The other Punk froze for a second at the speed of this homey in the wheelchair.
He then reached for his blade, but as he did Jack threw a three point Ninja star and stuck him in the forehead. The other one got off the ground bleeding from the mouth. The ganger pulled a gun from his hip, as his hand was swinging to get a shot, Jack thumped his elbow against his side, and a wrist gun strapped to his forearm snapped into Jack`s hand--- `kapow`. The wrist gun instantly stopped the assailant’s life forces and he dropped lifeless to the ground.
The quiet was deafening as Jack stared at the two on the ground. The blood was coloring the black pavement, spilling the man’s life.
ddd
As the confrontation was happening a window watcher caught the action on a video camera. He was a video hobbyist who often would film the street from his apartment window. He happened to see the drama unfold and grabbed his camera off the window sill. He filmed the entire confrontation and then he called 911 and the local TV station.
The SFPD had arrived talking to Jack and the video man.
“We reviewed the video that the witness took; you definitely acted in self defense.”
“Had no choice officer.”
“You have a permit to carry a gun?”
“Yes sir.”
Morning News-KJTV-(SAN FRANCISCO)
They ran the video revealing the assault.
“This is KJTVI speaking to Jack Frazzel who was attacked by two assailants in the video which he dispatched with lighting speed and deft maneuvers from his wheelchair. Mr. Frazzel you must have had training to react as quickly as you did and you used a Ninja type devise to thwart one of the assailants. What kind of training do you have?”
“I’m an x-seal retired from the Navy.”
“It’s obvious the way you defended yourself. It was dangerous to take on two but you didn’t hesitate.”
“It was my training, I acted instinctively without thinking.”
“From the video it was evident they meant harm.”
“Yes, I had no choice.”
“As you can see, Jack Frazzel defended himself from certain harm. We are grateful for the witness who filmed this; this is Connie Brinks from KJTV from San Francisco.”
ddd
The interview closed, Ron Papasinsky was watching the telecast from his private detective office as he was finishing a case his agency had closed. That was impressive for a guy in a wheel chair; he was fast and methodical defending himself. I might have a job for him. Ron called the police and got Jacks phone number. Ron knew the police well as he had worked with them on several cases. Jack agreed to come by his detective agency. Angie his daughter asked when Jack was coming to the agency,
she was impressed watching the video.
CH. 3 BACK TO TOPEKA
The killer of The Unholy Priest returned home, he lived in Topeka, Kansas, he checked in at work. Captain Russell Brock saw Larry arrive. Larry was hard to miss. He was six foot five, lanky build, good looking, and had silvery brown hair that gave him a look of a distinguished judge or successful business CEO. Captain Brock made a snide remark, “there’s that lazy detective whose case load is off the charts.”
“No problem, I’m gonna retire soon.”
“I remember in high school you were retired then too.”
The two had known each other as kids. They both grew up in Oakland adjacent to the Kaw River. Then it was a peaceful area and kids did what kids did, no drugs or gangs, it was a good place to live. Captain Brock (Bud by nickname) and Larry were always bantering and still are.
Larry returned to his parent’s house, he lived there alone now, his parents passed on. He has a sister who lives in Oakland, married with a daughter and husband. The solitude at home forced him to recall. Damn serial killer, I wanted to get him before he killed that lady. I need to react a little faster after I have my vision. That makes three now. These damn killers are sprouting like weeds. I don’t like killing but I hate to think of the innocent victims. I must continue on. The FBI should be looking for me. By now they have a profile on me.
I`m ready for plan B if they come sniffing around Topeka.
CH. 4 THE INTERVIEW
Ron Papasinsky called Jack and he accepted the invitation. He was on time at the Cisco Detective Agency owned and operated by Ron Papasinsky.
“I’m here to see Mr. Papasinsky.”
“Go right in, he’s expecting you.”
“How do you know me?”
“Saw the video, you were fantastic.”
“Thanks, I had one eye shut too.”
The receptionist laughed and Jack entered the office, Ron stood up and shook Jack’s hand. The office was nicely organized with pictures on the wall of all the associate detectives. Ron greeted jack. He was a fit fifty five year old man with a pleasant demeanor. His eyes had that caring look as if you were the most important human on the planet.
“Glad you came.”
“No problem, what do have in mind?”
“As you can see I run a detective agency.”
“Looks like a successful agency; you have a nice setup here.” The building was a new one story metal building with a full basement sixty feet by sixty.
“Been doing it for twenty years, I have three good associate detectives that helped make this business successful.”
“Is this about a job?”
“Yes, I saw your video on TV, and I was impressed.”
“I was lucky.”
“I doubt that, you must have some kind of training?”
“Ex-seal-retired.”
“You’re too young to be retired,why didn’t you stay on?”
“Offered a desk job and I’m not cut out for that, so I took my disability.”
“I could use a man like you, I read from your history where you were a squad leader.”
“Yeah, I’ll miss those guys.”
“I think you would make an excellent detective.”
“Even with my disability?”
“I think your disability would be an advantage.”
“How’s that?”
“For surveillance you would not be suspect, plus with your seal training you would be perfect for the agency.”
“Finally a man with some common sense.”
“A handicap doesn’t necessarily mean a person can’t do a job, it depends on the person.”
“I like your thinking Ron.”
“I want you to meet someone.” Ron called Angie to the office. She was a beautiful blonde, well built, and carried herself with confidence. “Meet my assistant and top notch detective, Angela Papasinsky.”
“Glad to meet you, is this your daughter?”
“Yes.”
As Jack shook her hand it felt strange and her grip was extremely firm. “You have an unusually firm grip.”
She grinned as she pulled off her latex fake covering over her left hand. Underneath was a shiny stainless steel appendage that resembled a well engineered mechanical hand. Jack was mesmerized as he stared at her fascinating hand; it looked like the hand of the terminator in the movie. She wiggled her fingers and then reached and picked up a pen on the desk and wrote her name with the terminator hand.
“Wow!”
“This hand is flexible.”
“I understand now why you’re dad is not inhibited by a handicap.”
“Angie is my top associate and supervisor over the other detectives on my staff, and she works in the field.”
“Now I’m impressed,” as he winked at Angie.
“Your wheel chair seems to have some extra attachments and I noticed that the steel caps on the end of your legs have some kind of wheels for mobility.”
“Do you have a gym or workout room in this building?”
“Yes, we have a racquet ball court, weight room, and firing range for the staff in the basement.”
“Lead me to the racquet ball court and I will demonstrate this altered wheel chair.”
ddd
The three went downstairs where; they entered the racquet ball court. Jack wheeled to the center of the court and faced Ron and Angie. He pushed a lever, quickly four collapsible stainless steel rods extended at thirty five degree angles from the chair; they rested firmly on the floor creating a solid base to prevent the wheel chair from being toppled.
“Ron, you’re a big man, try to knock me over from all four sides.” Ron tried to but Jack was firmly set.
“Who designed this for you, Jack?”
“I designed and built it.”
“Where did you learn these skills?”
“Before I became a seal I had three years of mechanical engineering in college.”
“That would explain your wheelchair.”
“I love to tinker so I rigged this up.”
“What about those wheels on the end of those caps?”
Jack grinned then pushed himself off the wheel chair and hit the floor roller skating around the court like a kid. Ron and Angie were awed by this ingenuity. “Where did you get the idea to build these?” Ron asked.
“I saw kids with small wheels on the bottom of their running shoes and so I made my own.”
“Why don’t you just forget the wheel chair then?”
“Two reasons, one I’m a tad lazy, and two, I modified this wheel chair so that it can move as fast as kid running.” Jack floored the wheel chair and sped around the court like a demon on fire. “Damn, you’re full of surprises.”
“You want more?”
“By all means”
“You mentioned a firing range, lead me there.”
Ron had installed a one hundred and fifty foot firing range for his detectives too keep them sharp with their handguns. Jack placed himself at the front of the range, there was a paper target at the end of the range, and it was fifty feet from Jack.
Jack reached to his belt on the left side and pushed one of two buttons and a slight click could be heard. He raised his right leg aligning it with the target and pushed a second button four times in rapid succession---bang, bang, bang, bang. The end of his right cap released four nine millimeter bullets creating a neat hole in the head of the target.
The cap was smoking and Jack was grinning. Ron and Christy were stunned at this display and Ron quickly yelled. “Wooweee, show us that device.”
Jack pushed the first button again on his belt, “that’s the safety button on the Sig Saur in the cap.” He wheeled around and reached down and removed the cap revealing the Sig Saur built into the cap with a rod like structure located where the hammer of the pistol normally was located, the rod had a thin wire running up Jack`s leg to the buttons embedded in his belt.
“You’re a dangerous man in that wheelchair.”
“I love to design and build.”
“When can you start?”
Jack hesitated for a moment, this guy is serious and this job might be fun. At least I can use my training; I’ll take it and see how it goes. When do I start?”
“Today if you can?”
“Sure, my wheelchair needs the action.”
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
THE RHYME MAN
THE RHYME MAN
By
Reid Jackson
CH. 1
THE FALL
Standing at the open door, fifteen thousand feet above earth, his knuckles white, gripping the sides of the exit, his heart rising in anticipation, he jumped into the sea of air.
“Wowserrr”, he yelled as he and the other divers jumped into the sea of blue.
The wind rushed past his face, like a falcon diving for his prey. The view was breathtaking, I can fly! He said to himself as he soared. He felt free as he flipped, did cartwheels, spun, and played tag with another diver. They did a sit fall like sitting in a chair, slowly straightening their legs to attain a flat position. With a movement of his hands and arms he would be in the swoop position, slowly turning like a huge fan.
Billy never tired of skydiving. The thrill charged his senses, and he was addicted to this sport. The adrenaline rush was always there as he sailed the blueness to earth. His parachute time was approaching. He grabbed the cord to his chute, ready to float like a butterfly and complete another exciting dive. He shouted, “I`m a bird! I`m a plane! I`m a...” He pulled his chute cord but nothing happened. “...I`m fucked!” he shouted.
A small voice whispered in his ear.
You`re going to die!
Billy fell at a terminal speed of 135 mph, as the wind hurried past his free fall. The fast approaching ground was replaced with visions and thoughts of his family, his childhood, his close friend Jeff, and his parents. It was as if he were in an I-Max Theatre, with his life flashing in nanoseconds, on big screen, in high definition, surround sound, and cinemascope.
He thought of his family and their recent vacation to Jamaica and all the fun they had. He smiled as he remembered his wife screaming while snorkeling, as she stepped on a smooth clam and she thought it was a shark, when he ordered a fish dish at a seafood restaurant and the waiter bought whale eyeballs. He threw up at the sight of it, causing the kids to laugh hysterically. He thought of his close friend, Jeff, and the rhymes they shared, the birth of his firstborn. His last thoughts were of the incident that happened two days ago. The fall had been forgotten, then---BAMM. He met the earth up close and personal!
ddd
Evening News-WRLX- (Los Angeles)
“This just in,” said the anchorman. “A parachute accident happened today at the Get High Sky Diving School. Paramedics announced that Billy Arnold died in route to the Angel of Mercy Hospital. The USPA (The United States Parachute Association) determined the cause of the chute failure, the chute chords had been cut underneath the harness. It is alleged that the chute was tampered with. The authorities suspect murder.”
ddd
Two days earlier
Billy left the ATM and headed for a big poker game at the whiskey Tavern. An on-line gambling buddy gave him the location. He said the owner of the club loved to play, but you could read his face like a book and he couldn`t bluff worth a damn! He also warned him that Vinnie Lambardie was a mobster, and to be careful if he joined the game.
On arrival, Billy was escorted to a backroom where three players were getting ready to start. The room had a carpeted floor, tasteful furniture, and a fancy wet bar. The players were waiting for a fourth player.
“You Billy?” asked the man smoking a fat Havana, sipping on a Whiskey Old Fashion.
“Yeah he replied. “Randy said you ran a square deal here, I thought I`d play.”
The man laughed. “Randy can`t play worth shit! I`m Vinnie, grab a chair and let`s get started. Five card stud, straight up.” As he shuffled.
Vinnie quickly introduced everyone. Chuck was the guy next to him and he was humongous! At the very least, he was two hundred and eighty pounds, covered with a layer of fat. He looked like an ex-lineman. Brian, the third player, was a movie stunt man. He exuded fitness and strength and talked endlessly about his last stunt, where he drove a corvette straight off a wharf onto the deck of a tugboat, in a soon released film.
The game seesawed back and forth between Vinnie and Brian. They were even on money, both waiting for the right hand. Billy was down a few thousand and was getting discouraged. He and Chuck just donated.
The next hand Billy fanned his cards. “Shit!” he exclaimed, as he threw his cards on the table and stood. “I need to take a piss!” Then he left the room.
The game continued. The pot reached fifty thousand big ones. Vinnie was dealing and Brian was feeling his liquor and getting belligerent with the mobster.
“You greasy coxsucker, I saw you dealing from the bottom!” shouted Brian as he slammed his empty glass on the table.
Vinnie`s eyes turned a deep reddish black at the outburst. Chuck, his body guard, knew how violent his boss could get and slid his chair back and waited for the reaction he knew would follow. No one talked to Vinnie that way without consequences.
A moment later, Vinnie drew the Glock from under his jacket. Brian was quick to respond and grabbed his piece. Both reached their range at almost the same moment---POW. Vinnie`s draw was a split second- faster and the bullet hit Brian between the eyes. The other bullet lodged harmlessly in the ceiling.
“Fuck with me now, you asshole!” Vinnie said to the dead man.
Billy came out of the restroom just in time to witness the standoff. He saw Brian`s head snap back, his body falling to the floor as it tumbled over the chair behind him. Billy was out the door without a moment`s hesitation. He felt his heart in his mouth as he ran out of the tavern and got into his car. He pushed the petal hard, leaving two tread marks on the pavement as testimonials to his departure.
Chuck chased Billy through the tavern and knocked a drunken patron flat on his ass. He stood outside just in time to see to taillights rapidly diminish in size. Discouraged, he returned to the poker room.
“He got away boss.” Chuck was breathing fast due to the adrenaline.
“Shit! What was that bastard`s name?” Vinnie fumed.
“All I know is Billy and he skydives.”
Vinnie went to the bar and poured a whiskey, and threw it back. “Find out from Randy...Now!”
“I`ll take care of it boss.”
“And get rid of that piece of shit first!” Vinnie said coolly as he pointed to the dead stunt man.
After dumping the body, Chuck paid a visit to Randy, pretending that Billy had run off owing Vinnie fifty thousand. “Billy ran off and Vinnie needs to know his last name!”
“We met at an online poker site and I don`t know his full name. All I know is that he skydives at the Get High Sky Diving School.”
Billy got home and locked the door. His wife and kids were visiting her mother for the week, which was why he decided to play poker tonight. He walked to the chair and collapsed, his heart was still pounding. His mind went into overdrive.
Should I call the police? No! He would have dumped the body by now. No evidence. Does he know my full name? No, I didn`t tell them. Did I tell them anything about me? I don`t remember!
If he came forward he would put his family in danger and that crime boss would come after him and his family. Besides in court it would be his word against mine.
“Chill Billy!” he said out loud to himself. “Nothing happened. You didn`t see anything! Mind your own business and just do your normal routine. You have a jump in a couple of days.”
ddd
He closed his eyes and mentally pictured himself free falling and it soothed him. He smiled as he thought:
A nice relaxing jump. That`s what I need.
CH. 2
THE INVESTIGATION
Detective Armstrong, is a crusty sleuth who incarcerated many felons in his twenty years with the LAPD. He was direct and determined once he started on a case. Billy pissed someone off big time. No leads yet so Billy, lead me to your killer. He interviewed his wife and kids and found that he was a good husband and father. No police record or anything of note, except that he had a gambling problem. He was addicted to poker and his wife, Emily, said that he often played with questionable characters. The last time he played was at The Whiskey Tavern, a well known bar owned by a powerful crime boss, Vinnie Lambardie. I`ll start at the Whiskey Tavern and see what I can dig up. If he crossed Vinnie then I know who might have killed him.
The tavern was almost empty, just a few patrons. Armstrong approached the bartender; the feeling was good that he was on the right track. He flashed his badge; the bartender smirked and put his hands on the bar with a frown. “Yes, detective.”
“Did you have a game in here two nights ago?” As Armstrong put on his best interrogation stare.
“Shit, I don`t remember, this place was busy,” as he wiped a glass with a towel trying to look disinterested.
I`ll have to use my derringer technique on this one. This guy needs some incentive. Armstrong reached behind the bartender like he was reaching for something in the guys back pocket. “Well, well, look what I found.” He had a small two shot Derringer in the palm of his hand. “You’re settin me up!” Cried the fat man.
“You’re on probation and carrying a concealed weapon which is an invitation, back to the slammer.” He had used the Derringer trick many times to finagle information.
The bartender became submissive. “Ok, yes there was a game that night.”
“Who was playing?”
“Just don`t tell anyone I told you.” He feared his boss, Vinnie.
“I just need some names then I`m outa here.”
He got the names and grinned to himself. Vinnie Lambardie, chuck, Vinnie`s henchman, Brian the stunt man, and Billy no last name, now I`m getting somewhere.
Armstrong was sensing that Vinnie was behind the parachute failure; the bartender suddenly started shifting his eyes behind him and back again twice in rapid succession. Somebody is behind me, the bartender is signaling, he quickly turned around on the swivel stool. He saw a known felon with a high profile warrant for attempted murder, just entering the tavern. The felon saw the detective and bolted for the entrance. Armstrong jumped off the stool, caught his toe on the foot stand and dove onto the grimy slick floor. “Ha, ha, and double ha,” the bartender bellowed, loving the sight. Red faced, he jumped up giving a one finger salute to the fat bartender as he raced off.
The felon sped out of the parking lot, screeching as he made the exit turn bouncing off a station wagon. Armstrong got in his police modified undercover car and was right on his tail. The felon was weaving through traffic like a gymkhana horse running a pole bending race. Armstrong`s was gaining on the felon. He called in for backup assistance. The pursued turned into a residential district. As he followed he thought, shit, this is dangerous for the residents. It was a rundown neighborhood with the houses packed together like sardines. He turned into a gravel ally with the detective hot on his rear, following like a greyhound chasing a fake rabbit at the races. Suddenly, he stopped and Armstrong slammed on his breaks.
He was twenty feet behind him as the two sat there and idled, like two male bears facing off for the attack. The perp. lowered his window and raised his hand. He must be ready to give up. He put his car in park but didn`t trust the guy. Then a rev of the engine roared as the tires spit gravel searching for traction---bam-crunch. The perp. reversed his vehicle turning it into a battering ram. The detective`s head hit the steering wheel, dazing him. When he looked up he saw the felon running down the alley then duck into someone`s back yard. Shit I`m getting to old for a night chase. He felt guilty and got out of his car and returned to the street. I`ll get sneaky and just slowly skulk like a predator. He kept low scanning for the felon in the dark night. He saw a dark figure crouching along the sidewalk. He stealthily crept close enough for a lunge. He ran and jumped for the shadowy figure, when the figure turned and hit him across the face with a cane. They both fell to the ground in a tangled mess. “You damn muggers, I`ll kick your ass,” yelled the old man, full of spunk. Damn, I jumped the wrong guy, Armstrong was in deep guano now. It was an elderly gent out searching for his lost dog. “Hold it, I`m a detective, I`ve made a mistake!” He had the old guy in a tight bear hug trying to calm him down.
He apologized as he brushed off the grass and dirt explaining what and why he jumped him. The cane bearing octogenarian was placated and Armstrong returned to the alley where he left his smashed car. The felon`s car was gone.
Fuck, this, I`m heading home before I screw up again!
CH. 3 JEFF BENSON
The next morning he had some other leads to follow up on. He found out Billy`s close friend, Jeff Benson, an account lawyer at the firm of Gingrich and Davis did some accounting work for Vinnie. He needed to talk with Jeff. He visited Jeff`s office and approached the receptionist, flashed his badge and said he needed to talk with Jeff Benson ASAP. Detective Armstrong was ushered into Jeff Benson`s office and was seated before a plush desk. He viewed some pictures on the office wall of the victim and Jeff skydiving together. They skydived together; does he even know Billy is dead?
Jeff had just returned from an out of town business meeting. He entered his office, still tired from his meeting. He shook detective Armstrong’s hand. Jeff sized him up, the detective looked about forty eight or fifty years old, medium build and he appeared fit, he was attractive in a rough way with a bent nose and brown curly hair and average height. Jeff is six two with short blonde hair with a sturdy build weighing two hundred twenty pounds of fit stature.
Detective Armstrong was divorced and living alone, his wife had divorced him because of the job three years ago. Armstrong focused all of his waking hours at being the best detective he could be. Jeff sat down noticing the detective’s somber mood. “What can I do for you detective?” Jeff said, wondering what was up. “I`m conducting an investigation and I need to ask you a few question. “I understand you know a Billy Arnold.” “Yes, I know Billy, have known him since school days, and he is a close friend of mine, why do you ask?” He felt a sudden feeling of dread. “You haven’t heard that Billy Arnold is deceased?”
The detective`s eyes bore into Jeff as he made the statement. Jeff sat there and let the news digest---his stomach tightened and his memory went into overdrive--- my closest friend, Billy! we shared our lives and my love for Billy`s wife, and the precious kids, Terry and Bill Jr.
“Oh no, “Jeff moaned, he covered his temples with both hands and stared at the floor. He was a brother I never had, and Emily and the kids will be devastated. Jeff raised his head tears rolling over his cheeks.
“How did this happen?” “Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but his parachute didn’t open and Billy plunged to earth.”
Jeff couldn’t understand a visit from a detective over an accidental death. “Then why are you here detective?” “We found that the parachute had been tampered with, so this is a murder investigation!”
Detective Armstrong was now intently watching Jeff`s body language and reaction, Jeff sat there stunned, his mind reeling from Billy`s death and now a murder, How can this be, Billy was a great family man and had a wonderful wife and kids. This doesn`t make sense! “This is a mistake?” No detective, this can’t be, Billy was a law abiding good husband and you’re saying murder?” “Yes, Mr. Benson, it was clearly evident that someone tampered with his parachute which resulted in his death.” Jeff tried to compose himself as his body was convulsing and his throat was tightening up like a vise. “But who and why,” Jeff knew Billy and who would ever do such a thing, it was inconceivable. “We will find out Mr. Benson and that is why I came here personally. Did you know that Billy had a gambling problem?” “Yes, I knew he liked to gamble and Billy and I talked about the habit and how it hurt his family, but he assured me he was going to quit because the of the suffering he had put his wife and kids through.” “Evidently Billy was in a poker game with Vinnie Lambardie and I suspect Vinnie may be involved. Do you know a Vinnie Lambardie?”
Jeff tensed up at the name, he certainly knew of Vinnie Lambardie, in fact he did business with Jeff`s law firm. Jack Donaldson was Vinnie’s primary account lawyer at the firm and Jeff was aware of the name Vinnie Lambardie. “Yes detective I know this person at least I know about him. Jack Donaldson my colleague here does quite a bit of accounting work for Vinnie and at one time I helped Jack out and did a small amount of work for Jack when he took a two week vacation. But I never met this Vinnie personally.” But Jeff was aware of Vinnie’s reputation. “What do you know about Vinnie Lambardie Mr. Benson?” “I know from scuttle that this Vinnie is a big time crook and a dangerous individual.”
“Does your lawyer acquaintance know about Vinnie`s reputation?” “I am sure he does detective, Jack is an account lawyer and I know that this account is a very lucrative for our law firm, but Jack is a good lawyer and his relationship with Vinnie would be purely ethical.”Jeff had always suspected that Jack knew more than was healthy about Vinnie Lambardie, and Jeff wasn`t sure about the ethical part.
The detective interviewed Jack Donaldson the Account lawyer who handled Vinnie`s books. He wasn’t aware of the murder or knew Billy. Detective Armstrong noted that Jack was tense when he asked about Vinnie and didn`t offer much information about the mob boss except that his business transactions are up to date and legal. Both Jeff and Jack were at this time to be kept on his list.
By
Reid Jackson
CH. 1
THE FALL
Standing at the open door, fifteen thousand feet above earth, his knuckles white, gripping the sides of the exit, his heart rising in anticipation, he jumped into the sea of air.
“Wowserrr”, he yelled as he and the other divers jumped into the sea of blue.
The wind rushed past his face, like a falcon diving for his prey. The view was breathtaking, I can fly! He said to himself as he soared. He felt free as he flipped, did cartwheels, spun, and played tag with another diver. They did a sit fall like sitting in a chair, slowly straightening their legs to attain a flat position. With a movement of his hands and arms he would be in the swoop position, slowly turning like a huge fan.
Billy never tired of skydiving. The thrill charged his senses, and he was addicted to this sport. The adrenaline rush was always there as he sailed the blueness to earth. His parachute time was approaching. He grabbed the cord to his chute, ready to float like a butterfly and complete another exciting dive. He shouted, “I`m a bird! I`m a plane! I`m a...” He pulled his chute cord but nothing happened. “...I`m fucked!” he shouted.
A small voice whispered in his ear.
You`re going to die!
Billy fell at a terminal speed of 135 mph, as the wind hurried past his free fall. The fast approaching ground was replaced with visions and thoughts of his family, his childhood, his close friend Jeff, and his parents. It was as if he were in an I-Max Theatre, with his life flashing in nanoseconds, on big screen, in high definition, surround sound, and cinemascope.
He thought of his family and their recent vacation to Jamaica and all the fun they had. He smiled as he remembered his wife screaming while snorkeling, as she stepped on a smooth clam and she thought it was a shark, when he ordered a fish dish at a seafood restaurant and the waiter bought whale eyeballs. He threw up at the sight of it, causing the kids to laugh hysterically. He thought of his close friend, Jeff, and the rhymes they shared, the birth of his firstborn. His last thoughts were of the incident that happened two days ago. The fall had been forgotten, then---BAMM. He met the earth up close and personal!
ddd
Evening News-WRLX- (Los Angeles)
“This just in,” said the anchorman. “A parachute accident happened today at the Get High Sky Diving School. Paramedics announced that Billy Arnold died in route to the Angel of Mercy Hospital. The USPA (The United States Parachute Association) determined the cause of the chute failure, the chute chords had been cut underneath the harness. It is alleged that the chute was tampered with. The authorities suspect murder.”
ddd
Two days earlier
Billy left the ATM and headed for a big poker game at the whiskey Tavern. An on-line gambling buddy gave him the location. He said the owner of the club loved to play, but you could read his face like a book and he couldn`t bluff worth a damn! He also warned him that Vinnie Lambardie was a mobster, and to be careful if he joined the game.
On arrival, Billy was escorted to a backroom where three players were getting ready to start. The room had a carpeted floor, tasteful furniture, and a fancy wet bar. The players were waiting for a fourth player.
“You Billy?” asked the man smoking a fat Havana, sipping on a Whiskey Old Fashion.
“Yeah he replied. “Randy said you ran a square deal here, I thought I`d play.”
The man laughed. “Randy can`t play worth shit! I`m Vinnie, grab a chair and let`s get started. Five card stud, straight up.” As he shuffled.
Vinnie quickly introduced everyone. Chuck was the guy next to him and he was humongous! At the very least, he was two hundred and eighty pounds, covered with a layer of fat. He looked like an ex-lineman. Brian, the third player, was a movie stunt man. He exuded fitness and strength and talked endlessly about his last stunt, where he drove a corvette straight off a wharf onto the deck of a tugboat, in a soon released film.
The game seesawed back and forth between Vinnie and Brian. They were even on money, both waiting for the right hand. Billy was down a few thousand and was getting discouraged. He and Chuck just donated.
The next hand Billy fanned his cards. “Shit!” he exclaimed, as he threw his cards on the table and stood. “I need to take a piss!” Then he left the room.
The game continued. The pot reached fifty thousand big ones. Vinnie was dealing and Brian was feeling his liquor and getting belligerent with the mobster.
“You greasy coxsucker, I saw you dealing from the bottom!” shouted Brian as he slammed his empty glass on the table.
Vinnie`s eyes turned a deep reddish black at the outburst. Chuck, his body guard, knew how violent his boss could get and slid his chair back and waited for the reaction he knew would follow. No one talked to Vinnie that way without consequences.
A moment later, Vinnie drew the Glock from under his jacket. Brian was quick to respond and grabbed his piece. Both reached their range at almost the same moment---POW. Vinnie`s draw was a split second- faster and the bullet hit Brian between the eyes. The other bullet lodged harmlessly in the ceiling.
“Fuck with me now, you asshole!” Vinnie said to the dead man.
Billy came out of the restroom just in time to witness the standoff. He saw Brian`s head snap back, his body falling to the floor as it tumbled over the chair behind him. Billy was out the door without a moment`s hesitation. He felt his heart in his mouth as he ran out of the tavern and got into his car. He pushed the petal hard, leaving two tread marks on the pavement as testimonials to his departure.
Chuck chased Billy through the tavern and knocked a drunken patron flat on his ass. He stood outside just in time to see to taillights rapidly diminish in size. Discouraged, he returned to the poker room.
“He got away boss.” Chuck was breathing fast due to the adrenaline.
“Shit! What was that bastard`s name?” Vinnie fumed.
“All I know is Billy and he skydives.”
Vinnie went to the bar and poured a whiskey, and threw it back. “Find out from Randy...Now!”
“I`ll take care of it boss.”
“And get rid of that piece of shit first!” Vinnie said coolly as he pointed to the dead stunt man.
After dumping the body, Chuck paid a visit to Randy, pretending that Billy had run off owing Vinnie fifty thousand. “Billy ran off and Vinnie needs to know his last name!”
“We met at an online poker site and I don`t know his full name. All I know is that he skydives at the Get High Sky Diving School.”
Billy got home and locked the door. His wife and kids were visiting her mother for the week, which was why he decided to play poker tonight. He walked to the chair and collapsed, his heart was still pounding. His mind went into overdrive.
Should I call the police? No! He would have dumped the body by now. No evidence. Does he know my full name? No, I didn`t tell them. Did I tell them anything about me? I don`t remember!
If he came forward he would put his family in danger and that crime boss would come after him and his family. Besides in court it would be his word against mine.
“Chill Billy!” he said out loud to himself. “Nothing happened. You didn`t see anything! Mind your own business and just do your normal routine. You have a jump in a couple of days.”
ddd
He closed his eyes and mentally pictured himself free falling and it soothed him. He smiled as he thought:
A nice relaxing jump. That`s what I need.
CH. 2
THE INVESTIGATION
Detective Armstrong, is a crusty sleuth who incarcerated many felons in his twenty years with the LAPD. He was direct and determined once he started on a case. Billy pissed someone off big time. No leads yet so Billy, lead me to your killer. He interviewed his wife and kids and found that he was a good husband and father. No police record or anything of note, except that he had a gambling problem. He was addicted to poker and his wife, Emily, said that he often played with questionable characters. The last time he played was at The Whiskey Tavern, a well known bar owned by a powerful crime boss, Vinnie Lambardie. I`ll start at the Whiskey Tavern and see what I can dig up. If he crossed Vinnie then I know who might have killed him.
The tavern was almost empty, just a few patrons. Armstrong approached the bartender; the feeling was good that he was on the right track. He flashed his badge; the bartender smirked and put his hands on the bar with a frown. “Yes, detective.”
“Did you have a game in here two nights ago?” As Armstrong put on his best interrogation stare.
“Shit, I don`t remember, this place was busy,” as he wiped a glass with a towel trying to look disinterested.
I`ll have to use my derringer technique on this one. This guy needs some incentive. Armstrong reached behind the bartender like he was reaching for something in the guys back pocket. “Well, well, look what I found.” He had a small two shot Derringer in the palm of his hand. “You’re settin me up!” Cried the fat man.
“You’re on probation and carrying a concealed weapon which is an invitation, back to the slammer.” He had used the Derringer trick many times to finagle information.
The bartender became submissive. “Ok, yes there was a game that night.”
“Who was playing?”
“Just don`t tell anyone I told you.” He feared his boss, Vinnie.
“I just need some names then I`m outa here.”
He got the names and grinned to himself. Vinnie Lambardie, chuck, Vinnie`s henchman, Brian the stunt man, and Billy no last name, now I`m getting somewhere.
Armstrong was sensing that Vinnie was behind the parachute failure; the bartender suddenly started shifting his eyes behind him and back again twice in rapid succession. Somebody is behind me, the bartender is signaling, he quickly turned around on the swivel stool. He saw a known felon with a high profile warrant for attempted murder, just entering the tavern. The felon saw the detective and bolted for the entrance. Armstrong jumped off the stool, caught his toe on the foot stand and dove onto the grimy slick floor. “Ha, ha, and double ha,” the bartender bellowed, loving the sight. Red faced, he jumped up giving a one finger salute to the fat bartender as he raced off.
The felon sped out of the parking lot, screeching as he made the exit turn bouncing off a station wagon. Armstrong got in his police modified undercover car and was right on his tail. The felon was weaving through traffic like a gymkhana horse running a pole bending race. Armstrong`s was gaining on the felon. He called in for backup assistance. The pursued turned into a residential district. As he followed he thought, shit, this is dangerous for the residents. It was a rundown neighborhood with the houses packed together like sardines. He turned into a gravel ally with the detective hot on his rear, following like a greyhound chasing a fake rabbit at the races. Suddenly, he stopped and Armstrong slammed on his breaks.
He was twenty feet behind him as the two sat there and idled, like two male bears facing off for the attack. The perp. lowered his window and raised his hand. He must be ready to give up. He put his car in park but didn`t trust the guy. Then a rev of the engine roared as the tires spit gravel searching for traction---bam-crunch. The perp. reversed his vehicle turning it into a battering ram. The detective`s head hit the steering wheel, dazing him. When he looked up he saw the felon running down the alley then duck into someone`s back yard. Shit I`m getting to old for a night chase. He felt guilty and got out of his car and returned to the street. I`ll get sneaky and just slowly skulk like a predator. He kept low scanning for the felon in the dark night. He saw a dark figure crouching along the sidewalk. He stealthily crept close enough for a lunge. He ran and jumped for the shadowy figure, when the figure turned and hit him across the face with a cane. They both fell to the ground in a tangled mess. “You damn muggers, I`ll kick your ass,” yelled the old man, full of spunk. Damn, I jumped the wrong guy, Armstrong was in deep guano now. It was an elderly gent out searching for his lost dog. “Hold it, I`m a detective, I`ve made a mistake!” He had the old guy in a tight bear hug trying to calm him down.
He apologized as he brushed off the grass and dirt explaining what and why he jumped him. The cane bearing octogenarian was placated and Armstrong returned to the alley where he left his smashed car. The felon`s car was gone.
Fuck, this, I`m heading home before I screw up again!
CH. 3 JEFF BENSON
The next morning he had some other leads to follow up on. He found out Billy`s close friend, Jeff Benson, an account lawyer at the firm of Gingrich and Davis did some accounting work for Vinnie. He needed to talk with Jeff. He visited Jeff`s office and approached the receptionist, flashed his badge and said he needed to talk with Jeff Benson ASAP. Detective Armstrong was ushered into Jeff Benson`s office and was seated before a plush desk. He viewed some pictures on the office wall of the victim and Jeff skydiving together. They skydived together; does he even know Billy is dead?
Jeff had just returned from an out of town business meeting. He entered his office, still tired from his meeting. He shook detective Armstrong’s hand. Jeff sized him up, the detective looked about forty eight or fifty years old, medium build and he appeared fit, he was attractive in a rough way with a bent nose and brown curly hair and average height. Jeff is six two with short blonde hair with a sturdy build weighing two hundred twenty pounds of fit stature.
Detective Armstrong was divorced and living alone, his wife had divorced him because of the job three years ago. Armstrong focused all of his waking hours at being the best detective he could be. Jeff sat down noticing the detective’s somber mood. “What can I do for you detective?” Jeff said, wondering what was up. “I`m conducting an investigation and I need to ask you a few question. “I understand you know a Billy Arnold.” “Yes, I know Billy, have known him since school days, and he is a close friend of mine, why do you ask?” He felt a sudden feeling of dread. “You haven’t heard that Billy Arnold is deceased?”
The detective`s eyes bore into Jeff as he made the statement. Jeff sat there and let the news digest---his stomach tightened and his memory went into overdrive--- my closest friend, Billy! we shared our lives and my love for Billy`s wife, and the precious kids, Terry and Bill Jr.
“Oh no, “Jeff moaned, he covered his temples with both hands and stared at the floor. He was a brother I never had, and Emily and the kids will be devastated. Jeff raised his head tears rolling over his cheeks.
“How did this happen?” “Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but his parachute didn’t open and Billy plunged to earth.”
Jeff couldn’t understand a visit from a detective over an accidental death. “Then why are you here detective?” “We found that the parachute had been tampered with, so this is a murder investigation!”
Detective Armstrong was now intently watching Jeff`s body language and reaction, Jeff sat there stunned, his mind reeling from Billy`s death and now a murder, How can this be, Billy was a great family man and had a wonderful wife and kids. This doesn`t make sense! “This is a mistake?” No detective, this can’t be, Billy was a law abiding good husband and you’re saying murder?” “Yes, Mr. Benson, it was clearly evident that someone tampered with his parachute which resulted in his death.” Jeff tried to compose himself as his body was convulsing and his throat was tightening up like a vise. “But who and why,” Jeff knew Billy and who would ever do such a thing, it was inconceivable. “We will find out Mr. Benson and that is why I came here personally. Did you know that Billy had a gambling problem?” “Yes, I knew he liked to gamble and Billy and I talked about the habit and how it hurt his family, but he assured me he was going to quit because the of the suffering he had put his wife and kids through.” “Evidently Billy was in a poker game with Vinnie Lambardie and I suspect Vinnie may be involved. Do you know a Vinnie Lambardie?”
Jeff tensed up at the name, he certainly knew of Vinnie Lambardie, in fact he did business with Jeff`s law firm. Jack Donaldson was Vinnie’s primary account lawyer at the firm and Jeff was aware of the name Vinnie Lambardie. “Yes detective I know this person at least I know about him. Jack Donaldson my colleague here does quite a bit of accounting work for Vinnie and at one time I helped Jack out and did a small amount of work for Jack when he took a two week vacation. But I never met this Vinnie personally.” But Jeff was aware of Vinnie’s reputation. “What do you know about Vinnie Lambardie Mr. Benson?” “I know from scuttle that this Vinnie is a big time crook and a dangerous individual.”
“Does your lawyer acquaintance know about Vinnie`s reputation?” “I am sure he does detective, Jack is an account lawyer and I know that this account is a very lucrative for our law firm, but Jack is a good lawyer and his relationship with Vinnie would be purely ethical.”Jeff had always suspected that Jack knew more than was healthy about Vinnie Lambardie, and Jeff wasn`t sure about the ethical part.
The detective interviewed Jack Donaldson the Account lawyer who handled Vinnie`s books. He wasn’t aware of the murder or knew Billy. Detective Armstrong noted that Jack was tense when he asked about Vinnie and didn`t offer much information about the mob boss except that his business transactions are up to date and legal. Both Jeff and Jack were at this time to be kept on his list.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
