“Do you think it’s Cynthia?” Franny looks at me. He wants to see my expression.
“It could be, but I think she would have called. Besides, she texted me earlier to confirm our dinner plans tonight.”
“I’m sorry for last night, bro. I couldn’t finish up in time for the judge.”
“Forget it, Franny. None of that matters now. Leonard Kepler is dead. As much as I detest him, we failed to give him the due process he deserved.”
“Yeah, Matt, Donny has a way with due process. Kill ’em quick.”
We arrive at headquarters promptly thanks to Franny. Directly in front of the entryway are two dark sedans. They look like Pontiacs, maybe Grand Ams. Franny is first inside, with me directly on his heels. Upon our entry, we can hear shouting down the hallway. Captain Grassio’s office door flies open, nearly hitting his secretary, desperately trying to get out of the way.
“Fuck you, Martinez. Get out of my police station with your bullshit. You want to check me out, go ahead. I’ll notify my U.S. Congressional representative to alert them of your witch hunt. This department runs with the utmost integrity. I never took a free coffee in my life. Have your supervisor come down here and meet with me. How dare they send some agent no-nothing to my police department! Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Captain Grassio kicks his wastebasket across the hallway, sending its contents airborne. Two suits exit Captain Grassio’s office and head straight for the exit sign.
“Longos, come inside my office.” Both men smile in my direction as they pass. It’s the kind of smile that lets me know we will meet again. Franny and I move forthwith and take our usual seats inside his office.
“Cap, are you alright?” Franny says, hoping his caring tone will calm our boss down.
“Sorry, gents, I can’t take it when someone thinks they are taking over our investigation. And to top it all off, they were in here asking questions about Donny. For God’s sake, can they let his soul rest?”
“Cap, why were they here?”
“They heard about Kepler’s disappearance. I had to be honest with the media, and they want to know about Donny’s accident. I told them… Well, you heard what I said. By the way, the dental records are a match. Donny’s funeral is tomorrow. Poor Zia Maria has been harassed by the media and wants this over and done with. She decided to have no viewing of Donny’s casket because of all the negative publicity her family has had to endure since the death of Carlo Mello. That woman has had a horrible month.” Captain Grassio reaches into his desk, pulls out a gold shield and tosses it in Franny’s direction.
“Here, kid, you deserve it. It’s my old detective badge so wear it with pride. We will have a quiet ceremony when all this shit calms down. Congratulations, Franny.” My brother is all smiles as he picks up his new tin.
“Congrats, bro,” I say, surprised by how quickly my brother got made.
“Thanks, Cap. Thanks, Matt.”
“Just because we both are gold doesn’t mean you’re my equal.” I had to break Fanny’s chops; the opportunity doesn’t come around a lot.
“Yeah, Franny, listen to your brother. He’s still in charge.”
“You got it, Cap.” Franny’s smile is contagious. Captain Grassio gets up and hugs Franny. I do the same and thank my boss as well.
I’m pleased the day is coming to a close, although Kepler’s disappearance has me questioning Donny’s “accident” even more. Captain Grassio deserves to know the full truth about Donny Mello’s actions over the last month, but I’m not so sure right now is the perfect time.
Instead of heading right home I need to make one stop. I’m not sure about this, but I want nothing more than restful sleep.
Chapter Seven: Double Down
December 1, 2002
“Headquarters to Car Thirty-One.”
I lower the music inside my silver Impala to answer.
“Proceed, H.Q. Thirty-One is on.” I sensed no heaviness in the voice, as is common with serious calls.
“Car Thirty-One, proceed to the area of 160 Main Street and meet with Detective Mello. There have been reports of loud popping noises, possible gun shots. See Detective Mello. He will advise further.”
“Ten-four, H.Q.,” I checked my rear-view mirror to make sure I could bang a U-turn. “All clear,” I thought as I cut the wheel and rounded about, carefully missing the concrete curb. I flipped on the emergency lights and cranked the siren as I made my way through town. The one day Donny and I missed having dinner together. I needed to pick up my dry cleaning and planned on meeting him for a burger. That would have to wait.
It was a cool evening with no chance of any moisture. The last few days had seen the worst rain storms I could remember. The water had drenched the town, with flooding rampant everywhere. As I rolled up in the area where the call originated, nothing popped out to me except my partner. Donny was leaning on his car shaking his head. I couldn’t tell if he was upset at me or someone else. When a person envisions a detective, they picture someone famous on television. Donny was wearing a black turtleneck tucked into his black jeans, black boots and his gun was planted firmly against his waist. He had his badge tucked underneath his shirt in case he needed to identify himself. Not a hair out of place, nor one missing from the top of his head. His goatee was perfectly trimmed. All that was needed was a camera and director. He really looked the part. Even the cigarette dangling from his lips seemed effortlessly part of the whole package.
“What’s up?”
“Another wild goose chase, Matt. It must have been a car backfire.”
We decided to walk around after seeing the sector officer doing the same. Officer Chris Finley was working downtown tonight, so it was always fun to break his chops a little, while wandering aimlessly around searching for a needle in a haystack.
“Hey, Chris, what’s that in your mouth, a prick?” To watch Officer Finley walk was hysterical. He waddled uncontrollably. The small cigar hanging out of his mouth looked like a chewed on hot dog.
“Yeah, Matt, I know. I may not be good looking but I’m damn loyal.”
“Loyalty is good; it’s all we need in this line of work.”
At this point, even after responding to the disturbing calls I had encountered, I was still under the impression that nothing happened in this small town of mine. Man, was I wrong… again.
An old lady was out on Main Street, shuffling quickly towards us. She looked stressed, breathing heavily from her brisk walk. She was in a long floral nightie, obviously in need of proper clothing in public. I immediately thought she had Alzheimer’s or dementia and was getting ready to radio for an ambulance. Donny looked at me and I could tell something more was going on here than I assumed. The old lady identified herself as Mrs. Gloria Altamero, who resided at the Silver Oak Apartments around the corner. It was a little hard to understand her because of a strong Italian accent. Donny instantly engaged her in their native language. I just nodded my head every time I thought I understood something.
Donny translated. “She said that she saw a shirtless man holding a gun aimed at her from a second story window across the street.” She walked us towards the general area. Donny told Chris to head back to his car because he was in uniform and if there was any truth to this, we didn’t want Chris to be an easy target. Donny and I were in plainclothes. As we ventured over to Mrs. Altamero’s apartment, a gun shot rang out and glass could be heard shattering somewhere nearby. This was no joke. I saw the front window of a car shot out ten feet in front of me. Donny and I both grabbed Mrs. Altamero and pulled the old lady to the ground, using a black Honda as cover.
Donny made Mrs. Altamero promise she wouldn’t move until we came back to get her. I called in the shooting to headquarters via radio and Captain Phil Grassio quickly took over the desk area at headquarters. If I knew the captain at all, he was probably trying to get a tank over to our location. But the truth was, there was no time for that. Donny and I needed to stop the shooter before someone was killed. We
ran towards the building in question with our handguns drawn. One fifty-nine Main Street was a private two story duplex on the corner of Main Street and First Avenue. As we looked up we could see the blue steel tip of what appeared to be a gun barrel sticking out of the window, aimed in the direction of Main Street. There was no time for discussion. Neither Donny nor I had our bulletproof vests on. I took notice of my mistake again when a second shot rang out. I saw glass explode in the street light directly in front of our present location.
Donny turned and smiled. “Didn’t I say never go anywhere without your vest?” The look on Donny’s face was one of complete happiness, unlike anything I had seen in a long time. Not since Donny slit Cipriano’s throat had I seen him smile like that. I mean, he is genuinely happy most of the time, but nothing makes his mouth curl upwards more than an opportunity to kill a scumbag.
“Thanks for the advice partner. Maybe we should retrieve them from the car,” I said, not smiling in the least. My mind wandered to my parents. If they knew what I was about to encounter, the stress would kill them.
“No time for that,” Donny said, making his way to the front door. I was happy to see Officer Finley watching our every move and notifying headquarters of the incident location.
I knew if anyone was going to kill this guy it would be my partner. I followed him to the front door of the building which appeared to house the shooter. To our surprise, the door was unlocked. A bad feeling swarmed over me like a tidal wave. I had to steady myself as Donny turned the knob slowly. I was expecting a bullet to rip through the door at any moment. I made sure not to stand in front of the wooden door. Donny and I tactically entered the house, which was dark and dated, in desperate need of some fresh paint and new flooring. We moved quickly through the first floor. Our backs were touching so no one would escape our field of view. I noticed a foul odor in the house and quickly surmised a dead body was close. I knew someone was dead, but it couldn’t be our shooter on the second floor. Not yet anyway. I could hear the police sirens off in the distance, racing towards our location. Hopefully this guy wouldn’t get one of our brothers in blue before we took him out. My brother Franny was working tonight in patrol and I was sure as shit he would be doing at least a hundred miles an hour towards this scene. Rookie mistake for him. Donny moved quietly up the stairs, making the wood creak ever so gently under his black boots. A much more difficult task for my size thirteens. Each step made my stomach dance with what felt like butterflies being tortured.
On the top step, Donny peered around the corner as he drew his pistol up towards his right eye. He was locked onto something and I could only assume it was our shooter. My view was blocked by Donny so I had to trust my partner. My gun was out and to the side as to not shadow him. There was a noise coming from a bedroom and it sounded so obvious to me. Loading a rifle has a distinct sound as metal is thrust into metal. Hearing a round chamber into a firing position produces an uneasy feeling when dealing with a possible psychopath. Donny took that opportunity to leap into action. He burst into the room first and was able to put his gun to the head of our shooter. I grabbed the long gun from his grip with all my might and safeguarded it by unloading the magazine. It was an old semi-auto Ruger .22 rifle with a ten round magazine. I cleared the action and threw the unloaded gun on the floor away from our suspect. We had the fuck that almost shot us and Mrs. Altamero. I quickly cuffed the asshole as a swarm of cops came running up the stairs inside the home.
Unexpectedly, Captain Grassio was first into the room and ordered the house checked. The asshole we had arrested was identified as Johnny Sanders by his New York State driver’s license. None of us had dealt with this jerk-off before. There was something very strange about him and it wasn’t because he was wearing only his crusty white underwear. He’d clearly been neglecting his hygiene for quite some time. Judging by the smell, I would estimate at least a week of no soap and water. Donny looked thoroughly annoyed. He was obviously bothered by Captain Grassio’s quick arrival with patrol. I bet he was going to shoot Johnny in the head. Their fast entry saved Johnny’s life for sure. As for me, I couldn’t have been happier. The last thing I needed to see was someone’s brains being blasted out from their skull.
The bedroom we all found ourselves piled into was disgusting. The smell was awful. There was an old wooden desk to my left that was covered in papers. At first I thought they might be bills or banking statements. Upon a closer examination, I saw they were love letters, all written to the same person, a “Lisa.” There was something under the papers. Wearing a plastic glove I moved a few of the papers around to see what the bulge would reveal. What I was looking at was odd. My first assumption was that it was a stretched out baseball, but without the inner strings. I picked it up to examine it more closely. It was a white leather strip attached by stitching to another similar piece of leather. I assumed our shooter may have been into crafts, an artistic type who snapped. I showed the stitching to Johnny.
“What’s this?”
Instead of an answer, all I got was a smile. This was not your typical little smile. It was extended to the extreme corners of the creases of Johnny’s mouth. He revealed brown and yellow teeth that had not been professionally cleaned in years. His smile made me sick to my stomach. I knew something was terribly wrong with Johnny. It’s not often you look upon a face that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Goosebumps ran up and down my arms. My body shook from the chills that crept up and down my spine. I held onto the wall for a second to recover from little aftershocks. Luckily, no one in the room noticed except Johnny. His lips moved but no words came out. He was repeating the same mouth movements over and over without making a sound. If I had been a lip reader, I could have decoded what he was mouthing.
“Do you have something you want to say?” I was uncomfortable. I wanted to know what he was trying to say.
Johnny stopped moving his mouth and just stared directly into my eyes. His stare wasn’t intimidating; it was almost child-like. He kept it up for a minute. Other police officers in the room started to look upon Johnny as if he was insane. Something was wrong with him but I couldn’t put a name to it. Call it insanity or maybe some sort of mental disability.
As I was about to bring Johnny downstairs for his transport to headquarters, he started laughing uncontrollably, almost like he was crying through a giggle. Captain Grassio instantly inquired, “What are you laughing at, you fat smelly fuck?”
Johnny’s response caught me by surprise. “I hope you enjoy the view.”
I asked him nicely, “What view, Johnny?” But the nut job wouldn’t answer; he just kept up his demented giggle. Captain Grassio became so annoyed he picked up a dirty white sneaker and started cracking him over the head with it. Johnny laughed harder after every strike. He seemed to enjoy the pain.
“Hit me again, you pig!” Johnny said, every time he was struck.
“Matt, drag that fat fucker up to headquarters just the way he is. He doesn’t need clothes or shoes. This is how we treat wiseasses here in Hutchville. Get the water hose ready.” Captain Grassio gave Johnny one last crack on the nose. Blood trickled from his left nostril.
“No problem, Captain, but don’t you need me to process this scene?” I was hoping to get as far away from this smelly bastard as I could. I watched Johnny lick the blood as it met his lips. His smile appeared to be forced and his eyes were black and empty. The circles under his eyes explained a lot. Johnny hadn’t slept in days.
“You’re right, Matt. Hand him off to patrol and come back inside.”
I walked outside and was happy to see my kid brother, Officer Franny Longo, talking with Chris Finley.
“Hey, Rookie,” I said to Franny, “take this mutt up to headquarters and give him the special treatment. After you put him in the booking room come back down here. I may need your help.” Franny knew what I meant and immediately started breaking Johnny’s balls; but nothing had an effect on this blubbering buffoon.
I walked back into the hou
se and remembered the smell which initially caught my attention. It smelt like death; and then it struck me, as I scanned the fireplace to look at pictures of a happy family in a much different time. Where was the rest of Johnny’s family? The pictures on the mantle showed Johnny as a teenager, surrounded by what looked to be an older sister and father figure. I looked around the first floor and found nothing but a dirty, disgusting kitchen with the sink overflowing with dishes. There was a steak knife on the counter next to the sink, covered in what appeared to be blood. Giving it a closer look, I saw the handle was also coated in thick, red blood. There were droplets of blood on the floor and I backed my way out of the room, knowing I had just stumbled on a possible crime scene.
“Hey, Cap, Donny, you may want to come down here,” I said, awaiting the two men who would join me on this wicked journey. The droplets of blood led to a basement door which no one had checked. Captain Grassio took the lead, opening the door onto a poorly lit staircase. The wooden planks were old and squeaked loudly with every step of our large frames.
“Matt, hand me your light,” Captain Grassio said, as he descended the rickety staircase. When we reached the landing, the room opened up into a dark rectangle. I could see a few doors on both sides of the room. The concrete floor was hard under my feet and I was surprised to find a sitting area with a big screen television.
“What a mold infested maze,” Donny said. In the middle of the room was a closed trunk that seemed out of place.
“Cap, shine your light over here,” I said, staring at the oversized, dirty trunk. The trunk was large and old. It looked like something that would have been used on the Titanic.
Donny found a light above us and pulled the small chain, illuminating the open basement area with a blinding, luminescent bulb. When our eyes finally adjusted to the bright white light we all looked down at the same time. The blood soaked concrete floor looked like it was painted by someone who couldn’t see. On closer inspection, there appeared to be three human teeth and human tissue in the middle of the blood stain. My stomach started churning like a blender. I didn’t want to open the trunk. I was nervous and disgusted without even seeing what I already knew I would. I remembered what Johnny said. “Enjoy the view.” That insane motherfucker had killed someone, but whom?
Back In Town (A Small Town Series Book 2) Page 5
