Crescent City Detective

by Vito Zuppardo

  Josephine took a deep breath. “Pastor Rosey is the man you took to the hospital. Hector shot him, and I killed Hector. I ran to the phone to call 911 and threw my gun on the bed.”

  “This gun, the Smith Wesson thirty-eight?” Burk asked, showing her the gun, now in a plastic bag.

  “Correct,” she said.

  The officers went on for several more minutes with questions until she told them she needed a break.

  A female officer on the scene got a Coke out of the refrigerator and popped it open, placing it on the table. “Here you go, Mrs. Josephine.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Mrs. Josephine,” said a voice that she knew but had not heard in many years.

  “Detective Mario,” she said with a smile.

  “I knew they would give you this case. No one knows this turf better than you,” Burk said, shaking hands with Mario.

  “Mrs. Josephine, this is my partner, Truman.” Mario pointed to Truman, and he reached over and shook her hand. “Now you sit tight, and I’m going to talk to the officers in the other room,” Mario said, making eye contact with the lead officer.

  Mario walked to the bedroom. Officer Burk and Westgate followed him and gave him the notes they had at that point.

  Mario returned to the kitchen. “Mrs. Josephine, we need to get you downtown where you can be more comfortable.”

  “Can you check on Pastor Rosey?” she asked.

  “I will as soon as we get downtown,” Mario said.

  Josephine stepped into the bathroom and fixed her hair, and a female officer helped her gather her purse and house keys. Mario had Josephine by the arm, mostly to support her going down the steps, and Truman walked on the other side. Together they walked out to the front porch and saw a sea of people standing in the street watching. The neighborhood reacted to a shooting or lousy car accident like it was a Mardi Gras parade passing. They jockeyed for position to get the best view possible. There were several police officers in front of the house, processing the shooting. Hector was in a black body bag on the sidewalk in the same place he died. Two men from the coroner's office put his body on a stretcher.

  As they started to go down the steps, Josephine saw the Chev that had stopped in front of her house. The car was parked on the other side of the median on Esplanade Avenue. Two thugs were sitting in the parked car on the edge of the street, glaring at the house and spotted Josephine on the porch.

  She stopped and alerted Mario to look at the Chev across the street. She was sure Landon had driven the car Hector got out of and fled when he heard shots fired.

  Mario slightly glanced up, holding on to Josephine's arm, and suggested they step back. Mario turned his back to the street and got the attention of an officer with a radio. The officer called ahead and had two police cars block in that blue Chev across the street and bring the car and everyone in it downtown. Mario took Josephine’s arm to head back into the house and motioned officers to cover his back. Four officers blocked the view of Mario and stood at the edge of the steps.

  Mario knew all the gang’s tricks. He’d studied them at the police academy and worked with Gang Enforcement for years. When one of theirs went down, they come after the shooter, and nothing stood in their way. Mario turned back and scanned the crowd. Some people were concerned maybe for Josephine, but mostly for Hector’s revenge. And there he was, one of three thugs standing in the crowd. Their distinctive posture was evident: round shoulders, arms folded, red ball cap pulled to one side, and a smug look on their faces.

  “Watch the guys in the red ball caps,” Mario said to the police personnel with the radio.

  “Josephine, take one step forward and quickly turn around,” Mario told her.

  Without hesitation, she followed directions, and as soon as she turned, Mario and Truman grabbed her under her arms and hoisted her in the air. Without her feet touching the ground, they quickly carried her to safety in the house.

  They heard car breaks screaming to a stop coming from across the street as police cars blocked the Chev from moving. Police surrounded the Chev with guns pointed and had two gang members slowly get out the car with their hands in the air. One was identified as Landon by an officer, and the other wouldn’t say his name. They were handcuffed and escorted to the back of a police cruiser and taken downtown.

  Mario and Josephine watched from inside the screen front door and felt relief knowing the thugs in the Chev were in custody—until they heard.

  “Gun!” an officer shouted as one of the guys with the red cap pulled a semi-auto weapon and put it waist high, aiming at the screen door. Mario pushed her to the floor.

  Two policemen came from within the crowd and tackled the thug to the ground, and after a slight struggle handcuffed him. The other two men ran into the group and disappeared.

  “Clear these people out of here and get me a car,” Mario shouted.

  Josephine and Mario rushed into the back seat of Truman’s cruiser and took off, lights and sirens blaring. With an attempt on Josephine’s life in front of police in broad daylight, he was not taking any chances of an ambush by the Cornerview Gang. Police units escorted Truman’s vehicle at a high rate of speed through the city to safety into the underground parking garage of Police Headquarters.

  CHAPTER 26

  It was late afternoon, and Mario got a call to report to Chief Parks’s office. He finished the paperwork on the shooting at Josephine’s house and asked Truman to file the case with the clerk on duty. When the case number was assigned and information loaded, the system allowed all detectives access to witness interviews, evidence, and crime scene photos.

  The elevator doors opened on the top floor of Police Headquarters. Mario stopped at the desk of the chief’s right-hand girl and stood silently with a smile on his face.

  “What do you want, Mario?” she asked.

  “What makes you think I want something?” he replied. “Well, this time I do want something. How’s the weather in the chief’s office?”

  “It was a little stormy earlier. But the mayor called with some good news this morning. So I think the bad weather has passed.”

  “Really? What did the mayor say?”

  The secretary just looked at him with a blank look. Mario tried to get information out of her but she rarely even gave him the time of day.

  “Must have been pretty important for the mayor to call himself,” he said, smiling back at her as he knocked on the chief’s door.

  The secretary just shook her head and went back to work.

  “Mario, have a seat,” Chief Parks said as he entered. “Good job this morning.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Your gang experience paid off. If not, some more people might have gotten shot,” she said as she sprayed water mist on a plant in the window.

  Mario hated when she did that. It was like she didn’t want to look at him while talking. As if her time was so valuable she had to multitask and water her plants while speaking at a meeting she requested.

  The fucking plant can wait, he wanted to shout out.

  Mario sat on his hands, trying to calm himself. “Yes, my time with Gang Enforcement paid off. It could have gotten ugly.”

  “Well, again, good job. The case is being turned over to Gang Enforcement to follow up.”

  When working the streets, it was not uncommon for detectives to catch a case then turn it over to Gang Enforcement. Mario assured her there wasn’t a problem.

  The chief put her water sprayer down and sat at her desk, looking like she was now involved in the conversation. Mario pulled his hands from a fist position held tightly on his lap. It was his way to handle stress, no matter who it was, and the chief was no exception. She knew how to push his buttons and did so with the spray bottle.

  “What are we doing with Josephine Walker?”

  “Marshals have her in a safe house until this gets sorted out,” Mario said.

  “Did you know her grandson, Cosmo, was killed earlier this week in prison?”
r />   “Yes, I went to the services yesterday—I have known Josephine many years,” Mario said.

  “I believe the streets could get worse—if that is possible,” the chief said, standing and resting against the desk.

  “You’re right. Gang Enforcement would best handle this; they have the resources. The war started with the attempt on Josephine,” Mario said, standing and doing his usual walk when thinking. “Cosmo had a small loyal crew on the outside. His posse will want revenge.”

  The chief wanted to assign Josephine’s attack to Gang Enforcement but wanted Mario to sit in on the briefing and give his input. He agreed, but didn’t think GE cops would take advice from an outsider. He knew, as he worked for GE for many years—they were a tight-knit group.

  “Let them do their job,” the chief said, sliding over to the edge of the desk. “You have enough on your plate. Anything you hear about Josephine’s shooting you flip over to Gang Enforcement. Do you hear me?”

  Mario was looking at her, but the chief knew he wasn’t listening. “Mario, the world is a dangerous place. You can’t fix it alone. Let everyone do their job, and together we can make a difference in people’s lives. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, I heard you.”

  He shook his head. He sometimes got caught up in a case, and it haunted him day and night. Many times he overstepped his boundaries and interfered with fellow workers.

  “Not a problem, Chief,” Mario said. Then walked to the door, stopping when the chief said, “Tell Kate hello for me. Last night was the last of surveillance,” she said.

  “I know. Thank you for your assistance.”

  “There is always a car in the area. Any problems, we’ll be there in minutes,” the chief said, sitting back at her desk.

  Mario went to the Gang Enforcement briefing. He added his input, which no one seemed to take seriously. It had been seven years since he worked that division and they now had different processes. The protocol currently has hoodlums with rights. You couldn’t do this and couldn’t do that without cause. Their new game plan was gang members had to shoot first. If you were lucky and they missed you, you were allowed to fire back.

  Mario lasted ten minutes in the Gang Enforcement briefing then made some lame explanation and left. He had one stop before he walked away from Josephine’s case, and that was to check on Pastor Rosey at the hospital.

  There were two police cars parked out front of the hospital, indicating the pastor had police protection at his door: the usual process when there was a possibility of continuing danger to the individual. The police had handled Kate’s attack the same way, but everyone knew that didn’t last but a few days and then you were on your own.

  Mario walked the same hallway he did when visiting Kate. It ran chills through his body to think of her brutal attack. She was recovering well now, but you never could put what caused all the damage out of your mind. She would always remember the attack and physically and mentally may never recover. The damage was profound, and that was something that concerned Mario.

  “Detective Mario,” the officer guarding the door said, acknowledging Mario with a firm handshake.

  “Any word when Pastor Rosey might leave intensive care?” Mario asked.

  “You know the drill. We just guard the door. Hospital staff doesn’t tell us anything,” the officer said.

  The door opened, and a doctor walked out. Mario showed the doctor his badge. “I’m Detective Mario. I’d like to see Pastor Rosey.”

  “He’s resting,” the doctor said in a whisper. “Please make your visit brief.”

  Mario entered the mostly dark room except for a small overhead light in the corner. He stood next to the bed, and the pastor opened his eyes. Mario identified himself and asked if he could ask some questions. The pastor nodded.

  “Mrs. Josephine sends her love and prayers.”

  “Please thank her for me,” Pastor Rosey said in a soft voice.

  “I know the police took your statement, but I was wondering if there was anything else you might remember?”

  The pastor, falling in and out of sleep from the pain medication administered, kept repeating Hector’s name.

  “What about Hector?” Mario asked, sitting on the side of the bed.

  “He talked a lot of trash—said Felipe sent him to kill Josephine. That’s when I lunged at him,” the pastor said, showing signs of weakness.

  The pastor managed to ramble on about the letter Cosmo sent his grandmother, something he wasn’t sure he told the police. Mario tried to take notes, but Rosey whispered and at times made no sense.

  A nurse stepped into the room and viewed the computer for Rosey’s vital signs. “He needs to rest,” she said, giving Mario a quick look.

  “Give me a second,” Mario said, getting closer to the pastor. “What letter?”

  Mario had a short window to get the pastor talking before the medicine pumping into his bloodstream put him back to sleep.

  “I visited Cosmo in prison, and he gave me a letter to give to Josephine. It said someone was trying to kill him in prison. Cosmo was all Josephine had, and Felipe Cruz killed him.”

  Mario closed his notebook. The pastor was in such delicate health and incoherent that it was best he didn’t push him for information on Felipe. There wasn’t much that he could add that the prison officials and the police didn’t already know about Felipe’s operation in and on the outside of prison. The pastor drifted off to sleep. Mario patted his shoulder and turned to leave.

  “Mario, this Felipe guy—he’s a bad dude,” Rosey said, looking wide awake. “Felipe told Cosmo he plans another attack on your girlfriend. He boasted that when she was dead, you were next.” Rosey’s voice got weaker, and his head tilted to the side.

  The computer monitoring his blood pressure and heart rate sounded. A loud beep continued as a straight red line came across the monitor’s screen.

  Two doctors and a nurse came rushing through the door and started working on Pastor Rosey. Mario stepped aside. He’d seen it too many times. It was doubtful they could bring the pastor back.

  Mario stayed in the hallway a few minutes and talked to the officer posted at the door. The guard told Mario the pastor had no visitors and only a few nurses asking why they were securing the pastor’s room—a typical question from a nurse. It was not every day they saw police guarding a room.

  The doctors came out of the room and announced, “Pastor Rosey died.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Mario survived the first night at Kate’s parents’ house and her father’s challenging conversations. You had to be careful when answering Mr. Fontenot, for there was an undertone buried in the question. Little backhanded compliments, like “it was kind of the police to have a patrol car out front for three nights.” Then follow with, “If you had any juice downtown, the police would still be out there watching by the house.”

  The fact that Mario had spent the night at the Fontenots’ home after the surveillance team completed the assignment meant nothing. Mario could have had a good night’s sleep at his condo and not awakened every time a car passed on Saint Charles Avenue—sounds he wasn’t used to.

  Kate was doing much better now, taking short walks with Amelia in the rose garden a few times a day. It was about a hundred steps around the entire yard, and it helped Kate gain her strength back. More than anything it got Kate out the house and in some fresh air, or as clean as possible with cars and trucks passing down the avenue constantly.

  Mario selected a light breakfast from the array of baked goods and eggs cooked several ways by Amelia. It seemed all they did in that house was eat. One big meal after the next.

  Mario left for downtown to get to his morning briefing and roll call. He stopped at the corner, waiting for traffic to pass, and noticed a dark-colored Ford sedan parked one house down. Mario was watching the traffic but kept glancing back at the car. A break came, and he pulled onto Saint Charles Avenue looking through his rearview mirror to get one last look at the vehicle. Mario was
n’t sure if it was his detective skills or his paranoia, but the sedan was bugging him. He made a quick left turn and went back towards the house. Looking at the car, he could see two people in the front seats. The driver was a man.

  He started to make a turn over the median on Saint Charles Avenue and halted with the ringing of a streetcar bell. The trolley made a stop, picking up passengers just behind the turning lane and enough to block Mario’s view of the Ford. Driving his police cruiser onto the median, he pulled in behind what he could now make out as a dark blue Ford Crown Victoria.

  “New Orleans police. Step out of the car,” Mario said, standing next to the car with his right hand on his gun. Flipping his badge with his left, he identified himself.

  “Why?” said the black man sitting in the driver's seat, looking directly forward.

  Mario bent down and saw the side profile of the driver and passenger. They were both wearing red ball caps and seemed to be around the same age, early twenties. “Get out of the car now,” Mario demanded.

  The red caps put Mario on notice; they were a potential problem. Cornerview gang members always wore red. The red handkerchief in his pocket caught Mario’s eye too.

  “Get out of the car now!” Mario said, gripping his gun tighter.

  Both doors opened slowly. “Put your hands on the hood now. Both of you.”

  The two young black men did as they were told, keeping their heads down.

  “Why are you parked in front of this house?” Mario shouted. “Keep your hands on the hood,” he yelled again as one fellow started to move.

  “What, a black man can’t park in front of a rich white man's house?” the driver said.

  “It’s not about black, white, or rich. Why are you parked here?”

  A voice sounded from the front walkway stating they were waiting for her. She was a tall, thin, black woman wearing green scrubs and carrying an overnight bag.

  Mario eased his hand from his gun. “Do you know these two?”