Upon Release From Prison

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Upon Release From Prison Page 8

by Glenn Langohr

April glanced at the blacked out Mercedes and kept running for the corner to get out of view and looked again. His eyes looked kind.

  Maltobano watched her slow her pace and look again. He flashed his badge. “Get in!”

  April took off running again.

  Maltobano realized his mistake. She's a prostitute who doesn't want to go to jail and she might have found out Pincher is a dirty cop! He caught back up to her. “I'm investigating Pincher; get in before he sees us!”

  April thought, something in the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, is safe. She got in the passenger seat and lowered it to hide.

  Maltobano looked at the girl in the passenger seat curled up and facing him. Her brown eyes were studying him with caution and innocence that blended together to form a key he felt trying to open his heart. Unsure of what to do, Maltobano took inventory of the swelling bruises on her cheekbones and forehead, sure to leave lasting marks. “What's your name?”

  “April.”

  Maltobano circled the Mercedes into a safe spot behind a truck to watch Pincher's residence. “I'm going to have to drop you off at the emergency room. It looks like you're going to have two black eyes. Do you feel dizzy or nauseous? How is your head? Can you see straight?”

  April thought about it…I feel so protected right now. “I feel a little dizzy but I won't go to the hospital. They will ask questions and I don't talk to cops well.”

  Maltobano remembered earlier in his career. He had been investigating a young rape victim who ran from her pain by using speed into a world of stripping on a stage and surrounded herself with mobsters for protection. He wondered if that was the path April had taken. Thinking about it he felt his emotions struggling for a solution he could live with as Pincher ran out his front door and got in the Crown Vic.

  Reacting on emotions, he followed Pincher behind another vehicle until he got on the freeway unsure of what to do with April. He followed Pincher at a distance to east L.A and got off the freeway. He followed him into a neighborhood and they both watched Pincher driving out of control. He raced up a driveway and slammed the front end of the Crown Vic into a garage door. At that point, Maltobano realized how big of a mistake he’d just made. Frustrated, he wondered if he was making another one. “April, do you want to put some ice on your face at my house?”

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  CHAPTER—15

  Pincher skidded to a halt and the front end of the Crown Vic cracked the garage door. He got out and marched to the front door and hammered a loud continuous knock. He yelled, “Veto get your fucking ass over here! That whore Crystal set me up!”

  Inside the house going over business Veto looked into his homeboy Bat's eyes and watched him acknowledge the sound of the police engine as it pulled up and voiced, “It sounds like a cop.”

  They heard the vehicle skid and the house shook with the impact. Bat popped up and ran for the backyard and Veto ran to the front door. At the peep hole Veto breathed a sigh of relief recognizing Pincher. His sigh disappeared, replaced by rage as he heard Pincher disrespecting his wife. He saw Bat's brown hair cropped low, then his steely brown eyes rushing Pincher from behind.

  Bat rushed in like a Navy Seal and caught the invader in mid knock around the neck in a choke hold and repeated knee chops to the back of the invader's legs at an angle until the invaders weight was only on the choke hold. Bat rushed his legs backward run dragging his adversary in a small circle until he held a limp unconscious body.

  Veto opened the front door and helped carry Pincher inside. They dragged him into the basement and Veto felt the pressure of the moment overwhelm his being.

  Pincher began to regain consciousness and started moaning. He started to crawl off the ground. Veto let him get up and said, “My wife's name will never come out of your filthy mouth again!”

  Bat watched Veto pounce. He threw the intruder into the wall and leaned into a barrage of right hand, left hand combinations until the intruder slumped back to the ground. Bat got into the action and both gangsters landed kicks and stomps to the again unconscious body. Veto kicked the back of Pincher's head, forcing his face into the wall and saw red. He flushed out images of Chuco's face in a violent outburst of therapy toward all that was wrong with this kind of life until he caught himself at the edge of death. He left Pincher hanging by a thread and stopped. He looked for Bat who must have run inside the house.

  Bat ran inside and thought, every fucking time I visit L.A from Riverside I'm putting in work! Next time I'm having the L.A Reps come to me!

  Veto watched Bat return with his container of acid and shook his head in the negative. “We aren't killing this one brother. This is an undercover gang and narcotic cop.”

  Bat looked at the task-force-gooners face. It was swollen and bloodied to the point it was unrecognizable. “You’re right. We should just let him go so he can bring back a helicopter to watch 50 of his Task Force brothers and the S.W.A.T Teams surround this house. I thought this was supposed to be the Safe House no one knew about!”

  Veto's poker face didn't show an emotion as he realized how out of control circumstances were. How did Pincher find this house?

  Bat asked, “Have you ever used cell phones with G.P.S?”

  “I only use walkie-talkies.”

  “Do you have a G.P.S on any of your cars?”

  Bat knew he had one in the Town Car and studied Veto's face in a gangster evaluation.

  Veto knew Bat knew he had G.P.S in the Town Car and admitted he did while sifting through to the exact moment he'd blown the residence. A day after he met Pincher he punched in an address to an Orange County destination to meet one of the most respected Mobsters in the organization. He was right up there with Topo and Bat. He was referred to as only “S”.

  Bat urged, “Come on little brother. Let me help you put the fire out before it spreads!”

  Veto ran it all down.

  Pincher woke up and realized the moaning noise he was hearing was coming from his mouth. He looked up at Veto and another Mexican. The other Mexican had a blue bandanna tied over his face just below the eyes that were covered by black sunglasses murder one style. Behind the gangsters Pincher saw a stockpile of weapons. He recognized a Ruger 10/22 rifle with a ten round rotary magazine, a .30 Caliber M-1 Carbine with a pistol grip and foldout stock, two A.K. 47 Assualt Rifles and a Heckler and Kock 9 mm Assault Rifle probably loaded with Glazer rounds. He watched Veto move the big screen T.V on rollers right in front of him.

  On the screen he watched himself shoot up his first shot of speed.

  Pincher felt his head ringing and his face swelling as the video ended. He started crying. Through his tears he studied the Mexican wearing the blue bandanna and felt the evilness, lack of sympathy and disgust radiating his way and thought, he wants me dead. I better say sorry! With his voice cracking and his chest heaving he groveled, “Veto I'm sorry I disrespected your wife...I didn't know what I was doing, that speed fucked my head up!”

  Bat had taken the leadership role with Veto to problem solve while Pincher was unconscious. The plan was to play bad gangster good gangster. Bat was going to stay true to his identity, a stone cold ruthless killer-Bad Gangster- and Veto was going to take Pincher's side-Good Gangster.

  Bat lived his part. “I think we should give this rat an acid bath!”

  Veto acted like he was deciding and went from staring into Pincher's eyes, to looking into Bat's like he was the shot-caller. “No brother, Pincher is a good friend of mine. Good friends help each other.”

  Pincher wondered, is Veto really going to protect me? He looked at Bat's evil exterior creep walk his way closer until his black murder-1 sunglasses slowly leaned closer and closer until Pincher felt them touch the bridge of his nose.

  Bat slid his right hand behind Pincher's head and applied pressure until Pincher tried to move and realized he couldn't. With his eyes hidden by black tint, he pinched harder. “I vote torture and death.”
<
br />   Veto, “No.”

  Bat, “Does this cop know we can get to him from prison if he isn't our friend?”

  Veto, “Yes!”

  For the first time in Pincher's life he realized how shallow he really was. He thought, the magnetic energy between these gangsters has been built up in a dog eat dog world and I've lived a pampered life with every thing handed to me, how do I handle this?

  Bat had explained earlier to Veto that when a soft target feels his life hanging by a thread-and then its given back-all of a sudden gratitude and sympathy can be nurtured into loyalty. Kidnap syndrome.

  Following Bat's earlier instructions Veto pulled out a bag of speed and shared it three ways. Veto went first then Bat, but Pincher got the biggest line to snort. Way too much for a rookie. As Pincher snorted it to fit in Veto knew his mind was ready to be guided any direction desired.

  Bat sat next to Pincher on the couch, the same couch Veto had video taped Pincher shooting up his first shot of speed, and with remote in hand replayed it over and over. After the third time Bat acted like he just came up with an idea. “Pincher you tell the Rampart Division you chased some gangster Crips selling crack into an alley and that is where you got ambushed.”

  Pincher looked to Veto, he was nodding his head in agreement. “I like that. Pincher, who do you report to?”

  “Lieutenant Sawyer. I can trick him with the Crip story, he's gullible.”

  Veto knew Sawyer from careful study. He was the division's sharpest tool. All the homeboys said he asked penetrating questions. He was street smart. For the next 20 minutes Pincher was grilled in preparation for the coming investigation.

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  CHAPTER—16

  Pincher drove to a black -Gangster Crip- infested neighborhood known as crack-alley and began his first act. He called the Rampart Division.

  “OFFICER DOWN!! OFFICER DOWN!!”

  Pincher sprawled out on the ground 20 yards from his Crown Vic. Within minutes the first responders arrived, regular Sheriffs. Pincher got on his knees and pretended to crawl, and then fell back to the ground. He did it two more times as if he was just coming out of consciousness and unaware of the first pair of deputies talking.

  “Lay down brother the paramedics will be here any minute! Sit tight we got you now.”

  Pincher rested on the ground flat on his back and touched his face and head as if he were feeling for bruises for the first time. He heard the paramedics arrive and was latched on a gurney and transported.

  At the hospital detectives from the Division arrived as soon as Pincher did. Pincher explained the story to the first detective. His lie got easier with the second detective. The third time explaining it Pincher realized a couple of news reporters were standing outside the curtain taking notes. Pincher smiled to himself until Lieutenant Sawyer arrived. Pincher watched him efficiently take control and send the reporters packing. The room cleared. Alone in the room with Sawyer, Pincher felt the walls closing in.

  Lieutenant Sawyer didn’t say anything to Pincher, he just studied him and remembered how he saw the reporters arriving in droves as he parked. He began securing the hospital like a crime scene immediately. He was too late to regulate the two reporters already taking notes but commanded, “Get out of here, this is a crime scene!”

  One of the two reporters, “FOX NEWS! Can we get a statement?”

  Lieutenant Sawyer. “NO!”

  The second reporter. “KCAL 9 NEWS. Have any of the suspects been arrested? We heard your detective heroically chased some crack dealers into an ambush...”

  Lieutenant Sawyer. “That's not on record, this investigation is just starting!”

  The Fox reporter whispered to the other reporter, “It's too late to keep what we heard off the record.”

  Alone now, Sawyer continued to remain silent and study Pincher and thought about his perimeter. He had instructed the hospital to keep a log of all the visitors.

  He remembered that earlier in the day while removing some drug evidence from the evidence room for a case going to trial, he'd noticed something peculiar. All seized drug evidence had a white label-sticker with names, weight, time, date, location, and badge and case numbers to identify it for court. The label-sticker on the largest heroin seizure was peeling up on one of the corners. The layers of plastic underneath it had been torn. Sawyer measured the weight of the seizure on a scale and it still weighed right. From there Sawyer studied the video tapes of the evidence room. Three detectives stood at an angle shielding them to the furthest degree as if they might have an agenda. Pincher was one of them. Now Pincher’s stitched and bruised face afforded an opportunity Sawyer seized. “Pincher did you land any punches or did you just get your ass kicked all over the pavement?”

  “Lieutenant I landed a number of punches but there were too many assailants.”

  “Were any of your punches effective? Did you draw any blood?”

  “My first punch landed solid and I felt lips meet teeth. I'm sure there was blood.”

  “We need to test your blood for AIDS!”

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  CHAPTER—17

  Sawyer sat in his living room flipping through channels for the six o'clock news waiting for a call from the hospital.

  FOX NEWS started with a report about Detective Pincher.

  “A heroic detective in E. L.A left his vehicle in a foot pursuit to chase some alleged crack dealers into a dark alley where an unknown number of assailants came out from behind parked cars in an ambush. The detective suffered a concussion, a neck sprain and cuts and bruises to his entire face. The investigation is ongoing and we don't have a statement from the department at this time.”

  The news panned to the only view of Pincher. He was lying on a hospital bed with a neck brace and ice packs covering his head and some of his face. Underneath one of the ice packs his swollen blood red and black eye stared at the camera.

  Sawyer flipped to KCAL news and watched the reporter mention a similar story but added, “The area the heroic detective was ambushed is a known hot spot for crack dealers and Crip-Gangsters.”

  Sawyer's cell phone buzzed. He listened to a hospital employee explain to him that Pincher's blood tested positive for heroin and methamphetamine.

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  CHAPTER—18

  Veto and Bat cleared the house of anything felonious. Four vehicles arrived and added their hands in securing the stockpile of weapons and drugs to transfer to another safe house. According to plan, Bat left for Orange County to “S's” house to apprise the gangster of the security breach. Veto gunned the Town Car to the Santa Monica hotel to get to his wife.

  Veto drove past the hotel's circular entrance and parked in his customary spot, between two trucks. He ran his usual route the back way through the service entrance that led to a stairwell to the piano bar. On his way he looked up and saw her on her perch smoking a cigarette staring off in the distance.

  Veto realized why he loved the chase game on a tight rope dancing through shadows and made it to within ten feet of his wife, it kept Chuco's face and other best forgotten memories from his mind. He climbed up the wrought iron to the perch.

  Crystal's mind raced with images. The morning started with April not arriving. Then she drove to Veto's house and saw what looked like a detective picking up a running April. She looked battered and bruised.

  She remembered Veto had trained her not to use the phone during crises so she went back to the bar to wait out a long day. Now she stood at the end of a catwalk chain smoking with worry for her husband. She smashed her cigarette in an ashtray full of them and noticed Veto climbing beneath her. “You asshole! How could you let me worry about you all day! Wipe that smug smile off your face mister!”

  After getting punched, then some hugging and kissing, Veto listened to Crystal explain how she saw the oth
er detective pick up a battered running April around the corner from his house.

  “What kind of car?

  “A white Mercedes with Santa Monica dealership plates.”

  “Did you get happen to notice the model?”

  “CL65 with an AMG kit. I think those have a V-12 engine.”

  “Good girl! I know a finance manager at that dealership.”

  Veto ran down the events at his house with Pincher and they walked into the piano bar in time to see the FOX news report. A few minutes later Crystal packed her things to set up shop at an even better hotel she had her eye on in Malibu and Veto headed to his new spot in the San Gabriel Mountains.

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  CHAPTER—19

  Pincher walked out of the hospital and felt his energy ebbing away like the tide and with that energy went confidence. He thought about the last couple of days in the hospital. Lieutenant Sawyer wasn't showing any compassion. He'd written three reports of the incident already and scheduled another one at the station upon discharge from the hospital.

  Pincher thought, what did I say the first time to all of Sawyer's rapid questions? Did I contradict myself in the second and third interviews? I need some more speed to get my head right! Why won't Veto call me back? Did I fuck up by leaving a message asking for some more up-town? Fuck, I might be dead in the water! I better just focus on staying out of jail.

  Lieutenant Sawyer studied the evidence locker video for the fourth hour in his office and imagined how Pincher would sell the stolen drugs. Maybe he was selling them to the Black gangsters that ambushed him? How could Pincher steal the evidence and make it weigh the same if it was getting pinched? Could a compromised detective use a hypodermic needle to squirt water into the narcotic to add weight? Or maybe something heavier, maybe motor oil or coffee? How can I check the seized narcotic in evidence without breaking the chain of evidence and compromising the entire case? I would have to clear it with the D.A and that would make our division look corrupted. I can't worry about that or my professional boundaries will become compromised.

 

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