Back In Town (A Small Town Series Book 2)

by Marc A. DiGiacomo

  I can’t let the chief speak. Captain Grassio always told me to keep him away from a microphone. All we need is a few farting jokes or something worse to go national and our department will lose all credibility. It’s bad enough we are talking about a dead cop and a rapist. Mix in a “shit your pants story” and forget about it. Scotty tries waking the captain but he only moans a little. I can’t make out what he is mumbling but it sounds like he is talking to somebody. Gradually I make out a few words here and there: “killer… George… back.” Matt, what are you going to do? Think, Matt, think. Oh shit, Leonard!

  I leave my office and head across the hall into the cell block. It is cold and musty even with some of the windows open high above to let the warm air inside. All five cells are empty; there is no sign of Leonard Kepler anywhere. Panic ensues. My anxiety boils over as my heart pounds inside my chest. Where is this little shit? I scream for Franny. He comes running. I don’t speak, and just nod towards the empty cells. Franny’s face turns stone white. His eyes bulge and squint, trying to make sense of it all. I think for a second I might shit myself. My inners keep shaking nonstop.

  I personally threw the latch and locked Leonard in his cell before leaving last night. Matt, check the prisoner log. Moving as quickly as my brain will allow I look up Leonard Kepler’s log times. I whip the pages by until I see Leonard’s name in red. My initials are the last at 12 midnight. I was the last person to check on Leonard. That was when I locked him in Cell #2. There were no further checks by anyone after midnight and nothing is written into the log this morning. Franny’s facial expression isn’t the usual, come-on-man look; it is much more like an oh-my-God-someone-is-so-fucked face.

  The sight of Scotty snaps me back.

  “Hey, guys, Captain Grassio is waking. He should be alright, but let me know if anything changes.”

  “Thanks, Scotty. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Scotty smiles and offers a fist punch. Franny beats me to it and is first to make contact with the big bear.

  The look of helplessness on our faces leaves little to the imagination. Scotty, sensing the seriousness of the current situation, heads back to his ambulance station. I gesture for Franny to follow me. As I pass the front desk I see our pal, P.O. Chris Finley, manning the front counter.

  “Hey, Chris, when did you start work?”

  “An hour ago at eight. What’s up, fellas?”

  “Chris, did anyone on the midnights mention anything to you before they left?”

  “Nope, nothing; but some of the guys were unusually quiet.”

  It’s getting harder for me to maintain my poker face. Chris knows me well enough to know when I am stressing.

  “Matt, Franny, you guys all right?” Luckily for me, Franny is the first to answer.

  “Yeah, Chris, thanks buddy. Talk to you later.” We continue the long walk down the hallway towards Chief Ramsey’s office.

  I enter first, with Franny shadowing my every move. He is more nervous than me since he is due for promotion to detective at any moment. To see our chief smiling as we approach his desk is somewhat comforting.

  “Hey Matt, Franny, how are you guys doing this fine morning? Is the captain in yet?”

  “Morning, Chief. No, Captain Grassio isn’t in just yet, but I’m sure he’ll be in very soon. Chief, did anyone mention anything to you this morning?” I am fishing for information; I know the chief won’t catch on.

  “No, nothing. I saw some of those news vans outside this morning when I took a leak, but nobody has said a word to me, except for you two nice boys.” All I could hope for after hearing the chief’s “leak” story, is that he found a tree to hide behind. There are no windows in the men’s locker room, so I’m assuming he was urinating outside the building.

  “Okay, Chief, we are heading out. We will keep you posted. Have a great day.”

  “Fellas, there are a lot of news people outside. Don’t be nervous, and don’t shit your pants, got it?”

  “Yes, Chief, we get it.” Franny and I make our fast exit, learning nothing about Kepler’s whereabouts. We decide to check the building to make sure the little bastard isn’t hiding in the police station. It doesn’t take long to verify the building is clear. No sign of Kepler inside. We head back to our office to have a conversation with Captain Grassio. We can’t let another second go by without more information. I have a feeling the captain’s current predicament has something to do with Kepler, but just what the connection is, I don’t know yet.

  I walk into my office, turn the corner and find Captain Grassio awake and slightly coherent.

  “Cap, are you okay?”

  “Hey, Matt, I fucked up. In all my years, I never did anything so stupid.”

  “Are you okay? What do you need me to do?”

  “Shut up and listen. I left last night about a half hour after you guys. I went down to O’Neil’s to have a beer, to celebrate. Well, two hours later, I came back up here to sleep it off. I figured, let me break Leonard’s balls one more time before I fell asleep. I walked into the cells, and he was gone. No one saw anything. The one camera we have is fuzzy, but you can see two dark figures moving through the hallway. Can you fucking believe this shit?”

  Franny can hardly contain himself. “Cap, why didn’t you call us?”

  “What could you have done? He’s gone. The entire town was checked; no sign of Kepler. This son of a bitch walked right out of our most secured area. I have no idea who let him out, but the entire department will have polygraphs regardless. Everyone is a suspect, including the chief.” I want to ask my boss why he was drinking in my office. What was he doing with all that old paperwork? I felt like this wasn’t the right time. Matt, stay on topic for now.

  “What are we going to do? Are we to believe Leonard Kepler was let go by one of our own?” I begin to question my gut feeling. I’m positive the cell door was locked. I pulled the iron rails three times to be certain.

  “Guys, all I know is someone let Leonard leave. I questioned every officer on the midnights. Their stories check out for now.”

  “Cap, why were there no hourly checks done on Leonard last night, starting at 1 a.m.?”

  “According to patrol, they didn’t have enough manpower. Leonard passed his suicide screening so there was no need to stand guard at his cell. Don’t worry. Heads will roll and someone may get fired, but we will get to the bottom of this. Whoever is responsible had a key to get into the back door. No one besides our officers and a few civilians have that key.”

  “Cap, do you think it could be someone who was jealous about our arrest?”

  “Franny, that’s a good point. You two aren’t the most well-liked cops in this department. Unfortunately we are plagued with a bunch of lazy bastards. Come on, let’s go to my office. I’ll show you the camera footage.”

  The long hallway is buzzing with the sounds of an active police department. I can hear radio’s crackling; the phone never stops ringing behind the front desk area as I watch Chris Finley juggle his breakfast and a 911 call. Nothing happens in this small town.

  Captain Grassio leads the way into his office. The camera image is waiting for someone to push play as I take a seat in my usual oversized black leather chair. Franny is the first to speak as the image appears of two men walking calmly out the back door of Hutchville Headquarters.

  “Cap, I may be wrong but I think that’s Kepler in the front being followed by someone. Why is their face so white?”

  “A mask,” I say, looking closely at the high definition monitor. My eyes not only pick up on the white face of our suspect, but he is wearing a matching pair of white sneakers.

  I can’t believe he would have the balls to pull this off, right under our noses. Is he still around? I keep my thoughts to myself; I wouldn’t dare blurt out what I just saw. No wonder he is wearing a mask. He’s the most recognizable person in this place. Oh, but he’s dead. Yeah right.

  “What do you think, Matt? I can see your brain working.” Captain Grassio may be
hung-over but his stare makes me uncomfortable, especially since I have this all figured out.

  “Cap, I think our suspect is wearing a mask because he is known to all of us. Probably a cop. I also notice only one of his arms is raised, indicating to me he’s holding a gun pointed at Kepler, who is walking out first. You can see Leonard turn his head a few times, confused about what is happening to him.”

  “What are you, some kind of profiler?”

  I laugh nervously, not wanting to reveal all I just witnessed. Only Franny will hear who kidnapped Kepler.

  “Without more detailed camera footage, the task of identifying a suspect will be difficult. A new surveillance system was always in our department budget but the town board kept cutting it out to save money. Look at what can happen when you’re only concerned with dollars and cents.” Captain Grassio is right. On the surface we have no suspect and our security system needs a complete overhaul.

  “Franny, go put out an All-Points Bulletin for Kepler. Be as descriptive as possible,” the captain continues. I can tell he is coming out of his stupor. “Okay, I’m gonna hit the showers. I have a change of clothes in my locker, then it’s time to deal with the media. Matt, when Franny is done, the two of you check Kepler’s apartment and sit on it for a little while. Let’s see if this prick shows up.”

  “Sure, Cap,” I say, happy my boss is returning from the land of booze.

  Chapter Five: Rats

  Naples, Italy

  August 30, 2007

  The death of Don Carlo Mello at the hands of an assassin was a hard pill to swallow, especially for his grandson. Finding out your maternal uncle was responsible for the murder of your leader and grandfather was beyond all comprehension. It was information that arrived too late. Had it come sooner, Don Carlo would still be alive. The informer is in attendance tonight. He is no longer as comfortable about the phone call he has made.

  Don Paolo Fretti leans over to whisper into Fabrizio Demarco’s ear. All twenty eyes at the dining table are fixated on the two men. The air is eerily silent. Each man is quietly thinking over their personal conversations during the last few months. Most are silently praying the evening will not turn into chaos and bloodshed. Don Paolo is flanked by two gorgeous women wearing red gowns from a previous era. He sits in a large wooden chair with oversized arm rests and a large oval seatback. The room is vast, with thirty foot ceilings. Golden feathers highlight the ceiling amidst a blue sky with white, puffy clouds. A very different atmosphere from that outside this old castle, where it is raining cats and dogs.

  The two women are tall, almost six feet, and their dresses are dated to blend nicely with the ambience. They are blondes with pale, powdered faces, each wearing a deep shade of red on their lips. Their hair is flawless and rests just slightly past their exposed, well-defined shoulders. They put the men around the table at ease. Never has anyone been harmed in front of witnesses. As the racy pair begins to stroll from Don Paolo’s flanks, large, big-bellied men become excited. A show is about to begin. However, it won’t end with a tit and ass routine.

  Fabrizio raises his glass to toast the entire family and introduces their new leader, Don Paolo Fretti. Tonight’s affair is only a formality as Paolo has already been chosen to be Don Carlo’s successor.

  “Buono sera. Tonight we pay our respects to Don Paolo, our new boss.” The room erupts in cheers, although the glorified tribute is obviously fear-based.

  Fabrizio continues, “But as with anything else, there is always old business to discuss. Don Carlo was our leader. He started this family more than fifty years ago. Those responsible for his death need to be dealt with before any new business can commence. Is there anyone in this room who may know something about the parties responsible?”

  The happiness and positivity in the room is sucked out as though a giant vacuum cleaner is hovering overhead. Some of these men have been with Don Carlo since the family’s inception. A few feel the family should have never been put into the hands of his grandson. But none of that matters now. Don Paolo Fretti is the boss and he is looking for honesty.

  Giovanni Massi is sweating profusely. He is trying to blend in with his fellow gangsters without drawing Paolo’s wandering glare. He is sweating because of the phone call he made a few days ago. What was I to do? P.J. is a boss too. Gio is scared for his family. Either way this goes down, he is a dead man. At least if he comes clean, they should kill him quickly. Then again, his family ties are the strongest right now and reach all the way to Hutchville, N.Y. He decides to keep his mouth shut and take his chances.

  This is a private dinner held in the late Don Carlo’s Italian estate in Naples, Italy. The wine is made right here on the grounds and is worthy of worldwide accolades. The enormous centerpiece hanging from the ceiling would make anyone uncomfortable. The black-coated forged steel displays Satan in his many different forms looking down on the family as if he is watching, waiting for his opportunity to strike. It was a gift to Don Carlo Mello, purchased at an auction in Rome by his only grandson. Tonight, Don Paolo will stare at it with unforgiving eyes.

  The walls in this dining hall are a work of art in themselves. There are all types of medieval weaponry, including axes and shiny silver swords, scattered in perfect battle sequences. Fabrizio walks the room as he talks in his native Italian dialect. The men applaud him after every pause. You could cut the tension in the room with the butter knife placed next to the bread dish in front of all attendees.

  The ladies in red seem excited as they pull a medieval spiked ball and chain from the wall directly behind Gio, who is sucking down some prosciutto and melon. The men facing the ladies smile as the two women swing the ball at each other playfully. Their smiles dwindle as one lady with rock solid arms takes hold of the chain’s wooden handle. No one in the room speaks but all watch as the steel ball strikes Gio on top of his skull, smashing right through the bone with ease. Gio dies instantly, and the steel ball is left embedded in his head, exposing the brain to everyone. If you subtract all the blood, this gruesome sight looks like a fresh bowl of scungilli. The two women smile at each other and gently embrace behind the stiff. Everyone in the room is in a state of disbelief. Never has a woman been used to kill before tonight. This move is a game changer. It goes against all the old rules and ushers in a new, undefined era in organized crime. If Don Paolo is capable of using women to kill, no one is safe. You would never see your killers coming. Who are these women and where did they come from? That thought is on everyone’s mind except that of Don Paolo. Only he knows the answer.

  Some might expect the dinner to be over at this point, but not in this old castle. Don Paolo raises a large gold bell with his right hand and signals for the first course. The all-male staff walks in with trays of food, never once looking in the direction of the bloody mess still twitching from death. No one dares to get up and everyone eats with the stench beginning to foul up the dining hall.

  Chapter Six: Cheap Suits

  Our first stop is Taku, the Chinese restaurant located below Leonard’s apartment. After confirming with management that he hasn’t shown, Franny and I move through his old apartment. Everything appears untouched, and the transforming robot collection is still present and accounted for. It would be a hard sell to convince me that Leonard returned to his apartment and left every collectible, without taking his favorite piece. It would easily fit in a bag, especially transformed into its vehicle mode.

  We both return to our silver, unmarked Impala and sit in surveillance mode. I’m trying to come to terms with this mega-problem. We have never had a breach occur at our police department. Not only did Franny put out an A.P.B., he also filed an arrest warrant for Leonard Kepler. No matter where he surfaces, his name check will trigger a law enforcement response.

  “So, do you think Donny played a part in this?” Franny is a great analyzer. He has so much of my mother in him, it’s remarkable. I had to come clean with my little brother about what I observed in the videotape of Kepler’s kidnapping.

/>   “Fran, did you see the white mask?”

  “Yes, and something else.”

  “What?” I ask, already knowing how good a cop Franny has become. It brings a smile to my face even in this unbelievable situation.

  “I saw white sneakers on our suspect, walking Kepler right out the back door. I can’t believe the balls of that guy. Donny Mello couldn’t let it go. He is home free. Why take the chance?”

  “There’s no doubt in my mind. It was Donny who took Leonard; and there is no doubt in my mind that Leonard Kepler is dead. We will never find him. So let’s just play along and act like we don’t have a fucking clue who did this.”

  “But how do we explain the postcard from Italy?”

  “He could have had anyone send that card. That’s an easy distraction. I bet he left this morning for Italy. Donny has a lot of friends on both sides of the Atlantic. Anything is possible.” Franny knew I might be onto something. But what would it matter? We had no way to confirm anything relating to Donny.

  Time stands still. The hours that pass seem like an eternity. At around three in the afternoon, my cell vibrates in the cup holder. It’s Captain Grassio calling and I quickly answer.

  “Matt, head up to headquarters. I need you guys. The F.B.I. is snooping around. Come quick.”

  “Cap, we are on our way.” I relay the message to Franny. He guns the engine, peeling the tires, and we go from stationary to high alert within a few seconds.

  “The feds? Why?” I can tell Franny is nervous and rightly so. My guts are all twisted upon hearing this revelation.

  “I don’t know, Franny. It’s either Kepler’s disappearance or Donny’s accident. Either way, it can’t be a good thing.” I don’t need my brother worrying so much, especially about me. It’s hard enough to concentrate on staying safe in this lifestyle without all this other bullshit.

  “Franny, don’t worry. It’s not like we let Kepler go.”