Driscoll’s car had been found in a junkyard and some little po-dunk town in Arkansas, Jonesboro, Arkansas. Seems the County Sheriff’s office had the burned out wreck picked up off a back road in some forgotten swap and had it towed to the city junkyard, where it sat all this time until some enterprising young person thought to trace the owner of this late model $45,000 BMW by its vin number. So now they had Driscoll’s car or what was left of it. Richard setback in his chair and rubbed the stubble of whiskers on his chin. The data Chase woman he reason, plus the missing boyfriend, plus the call on the phone that clearly was not Driscoll and now his burned out BMW found in a junkyard in Arkansas. Shit, he thought to himself. Looks like he’s going to have to eat more crow from that shithead Crawford again.
He looked up from his desk and saw patrolmen Roy standing there looking like a neon sign all lit up or business.
“Well, what do you think Carol, oh, I mean Detective Richard. Pretty spiffy.” He was dressed in very tight yellow pants, a white silk shirt opened wide at the neck with full sleeves, a wide brimmed yellow straw hat. A heavy gold chain hung from around his neck with an assortment of flashy gold and silver rings on each finger.
“You look like a shit-eating pimp.”
“Right on, my man, right on. I’m going undercover tonight for the narks. Now is my chance to show them what I can do. That I’m not just another pretty face. And I’ve got something upstairs.”
“You got something upstairs all right. It’s called dandruff.”
“Yeah. Oh well. Have your fun while you can, because when I’m chief I’ll be looking down on all you peasants and try to overlook all those snide remarks and odd looks, you give each other when I happened to walk by. You watch I’ll be a legend in my own time. Police officers will sing of my exploits and praise my craftiness and wisdom that I use in everyday walk. Even the mayor will take note of my brilliant deductions and my arrest record will stand for decades as unprecedented. Why even the governor will…”
“Please, spare me anymore of your nonsense while I answer my phone,” Richards said as he picked up a dead phone that did not ring. That threw patrolmen Roland off his stride as he just stood there for a moment and wondered if Richard had finally went bonkers. It was then that the phone really did ring and both men looked at one another and started laughing.
Chapter 33
“This is Detective Richard how may I help you?”
“This is Rex, down in computers. We got a hit on that nickname you gave us.”
“I’ll be right there.” He hurried from the squad bay to the basement where they did all the computer net-working and database because it was cooler down there.
“We have two of them for you. The first one is a con man who likes to bilk elderly women out of their life savings, a real nice guy. He goes by the name of Alex Howard, a.k.a. Howie. He has a sheet a mile-long, but never any strong arms stuff. I don’t think he’s your man. This next one fits the bill to a T. His name is Melvin Howard, a real piece of work. And trouble since school. Gang stuff in the inner city of Detroit. Strong arms stuff later on. A bad, very bad temper and likes to hurt people. Last known address is on Applewood on the lower East side. 13036 Applewood.”
“Does he have any known associates? Anyone he runs with, any one he’s tight with?”
“There is a Stanley Simpson the two met in prison years back, and they are known to hang together. If you catch my drift.”
“Gay?”
“Yeah. Here’s their sheets and mug shots. Take care all of these turds, they are mean as hell and dangerous.”
“Can I use your phone?”
“Sure, use the one on my desk. No one ever calls me anyway. Just punch 94 outside line.”
Clayton answered on the third ring.
“I got your boy Mr. Craeford. I need you to ID him for me so I can pick him up.”
“Who is he and where does he hang out?”
“Oh, no you don’t, this is a police matter now and I don’t need you mucking things up again. I’m going to fax you the necessary papers, along with his mug shot, all you do is fill out the paper, ID the turd and fax everything back to me. Once I have those papers signed by you, I’ll locate a judge and have him swear out an arrest warrant and then I pick him up. It is that simple. Stay put, hear.”
Thirty minutes later, Richards had the arrest warrant in his hand and started looking for some backup. For some reason the squad bay was empty of men in blue. Usually there would be five or six uniforms floating around, but not now.
“Damn, where is he when you need him?” The only one he spotted was Roy Roland still traipsing around in that silly get-up.
“Roland, where is your partner, what’s his name?”
“He is in the john. Something up?”
“Yeah, I need a backup, hurry and suit up. I’ll get your partner out of the can. Hey, wear your vest and hurry, the bus leaves in five minutes.”
As patrolmen Roland ran to the locker room to change into his uniform, Richard started pounding on the co-ed restroom.
“Come on out of there, gold brick bluecoat,t we’ve got work to do.”
A minute later Helen Sykes came out of the john. “No damn paper in there,” she said as she strapped on her duty belt.
“You will do. Get your gear and a black and white and wait out front. Better get your vest also, you might need it.”
Roland came rushing over half dressed, tucking in his shirt, his pants unzipped, hat on cockeyed and shoes untied. His duty belt slung over his shoulder. “Let’s go, Richards I’ll finish dressing in the car.”
“Where is Frank?” Richards asked.
“He is in the locker room, he’s really sick. The flu, I think.”
“Flu my ass, hung over you mean. Well, we haven’t got time for him now, so let’s roll.”
As the black and white neared the address on Applewood they noticed the neighborhood. Although all the houses were mostly alike, they were very neatly kept, mowed lawns, trim flowerbeds, clean sidewalks and fresh paint here and there.
“Look,” Sykes said, there’s a car in the drive.”
“Sykes you take the backyard in case he tries to run for it. Roland and I will take the front. Now, be careful. He has a bad temper and is built like a grizzly bear. If he gets wild on us we will use the stun gun. Everyone wearing a vest? Good. Let’s do it.”
They filed out of the car and Sykes, at a crouch, sprinted towards the backyard. Well, Richard and Roland made for the front door.
Richard nodded that Roland that he was set.
“Melvin Howard, this is the police, open up,” Roland shouted as he kicked the front door in. Then everything seemed to happen simultaneously in a whirlwind of noise and high speed action. The sound of splintering wood the breaking of glass and the crash of noises toward the back of the house.
“He’s running,” Richard shouted as he raced past Roland toward the back.
Then there were shots fired. Once you hear them, you never forget what they sound like. Richard burst through what was left of the back door and raced into the backyard, his 9 mm in his hands at the ready. A man lay on his left side near the back steps where the left side of his head was missing. Very dead. Further away patrolmen Sykes lay spread eagle went on her back. She was moving her arms slowly in a weak effort to roll over or set up.
Roland came running up behind Richards, almost knocking him over.
“Call it in,” Richard barked as he kicked a handgun away from the dead man’s hand and ran over to where Sykes was laying.
“This is patrolmen Roy Roland at 13036 Applewood. Shots fired officer down in need assistance.”
“He shot me. The bastard shot me,” Helen said in a weak but angry voice.
“No, you’re all right. The vest stopped the bullet, just knocked the wind out of you.”
“Did I get him, did I get him, we both fired at the same time. Did I get him? God I hurt.”
“You got him good Sykes. You got him a lot better
than he got you. That was good shooting by the way.”
“I don’t remember any of it. It happened so fast, but I guess I was ready for him all right. Look at me I’m shaking all over, just like a rookie. Hey Richards, if I start to cry, it’s just nerves, right,” she said as she tried wiping the tears away with the back of her hand.
“Just nerves, kid, just nerves,” he said as he handed her his handkerchief. “You better stay put until the EMT guys check you over. You may have some broken ribs.”
“Where is he, you sure I got him? I think I fired twice. You sure I got him?”
“Yes, he’s over by the back steps with half his head missing. And very, very dead.” Now he could hear the wail of police sirens and the loud blast from the fire engine’s air horns far in the distance. “Help will be here soon Sykes just lay back and relax.
“Damn, I hurt feels like my ribs are broken. I think I got two shots off you sure I hit him?” I never shot anyone before. I never even had to draw my pistol in my career. Some 15 years or more.”
“You did good Sykes it was a clean shoot not to worry about internal affairs.”
“I wish I could stop shaking nerves just nerves.”
“Yeah, you just stay down until the EMTs get here.”
“Don’t worry about that. I don’t think my legs to hold me up right now anyway.”
The sirens and blaring air horns came to a screaming halt and before he knew it. The backyard was full of Cox firemen into EMT units.
The two EMTs came rushing over to the fallen officer. “Where are you hit?” One shouted over the high above and confusion of the mingling crowd.
“No she isn’t shot. The vest stopped the bullet, but I think she has a broken rib or two and might be going into shock.”
“Hey, I can talk to myself,” she said, trying to hold back the tears that now ran freely down her face. “It just hurts like hell.”
As she was being attended to Richards walked over the few yards that separated Sykes from the dead gun man. He looked down at his half missing face when Roland walked over.
“That him, boss?” He asked in a quiet voice.
“No, not him or Simons, either. Just some lowlife piece of shit who thought to hide out here for a while.”
“Hey Richard,” a voice called from the house. It was the watch commander Paul Wells. “Look what we found hiding in the basement.” Richard turned towards the back door where Wells was holding a black woman by the arms. Her hands cuffed behind her back. “You’re really slipping man if she was armed, she could have dusted all three of you.”
Damn Richards thought I’ll never live this down. Well, only two more years and I can hang up my shield and retire if I manage to live that long.
Chapter 34
Howie and Stanley were just returning from their weekly shopping. Nearing their street Stanley grabbed Howie’s arm. “Wait Howie, pull over to the curb and stop the car.”
“Now what did you forget? You are always forgetting something. Well I am not going back.”
“Will you shut the hell up and just pull over. I’m serious now, dammit, I said, pulled the car over.”
“All right already. You would think the sky was falling or something.”
“Listen to all those sirens, will you? They’re getting closer. Wonder what’s up. It sounds like a small army coming, but stay put for a while and see where they are going. The thing is to sit tight and don’t panic. They are coming this way.”
“Shit,” Howie said as he checked his rear view mirror. “They are coming up behind us. Get down, here they come.”
The first black-and-white shot by them like a bullet. His siren blaring out a full warning to anything in its path, the second and third black-and-white was right behind him. Then came the ambulance and two EMT units, all in a succession. They came screaming past them.
They must’ve found out about Larry somehow Stanley reasoned. “We have got to get out of here quick.”
Where to? Where are we going to go and what about my CD collection. What about that. You’re so smart, you ever think of that?” Howie whined.
“Will you shut the hell up and just drive. You’re making me angry and you know what happens when I get angry.”
“Okay, okay already, where are we going?”
“West Virginia. We get some out-of-the-way little motel room. Maybe park in the back out of the way and lay low for a week or so, until we find out what’s going on. It’s bound to make the paper. Whatever it was.”
“Good idea Stanley, but maybe we better stop by the bank and clean out the safety deposit box. Just in case.”
“Suppose they are at the bank waiting for us?” No, he thought the cops don’t move that fast. “That thought took some heavy thinking on your part. Maybe there’s hope for you after all Howie.”
It was 2:30 before Richards returned to his cubbyhole of an office tucked away in the back of the squad bay. Just as he was pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee from that mornings brew, he noticed a message on his desk to see the police chief as soon as possible. So being a good little cop he put the cup of coffee down and made for the upstairs offices.
“You wanted to see me chief?”
“Yeah, Richards, we have a few things to go over. First I want to congratulate you on the job you did at the Howard place this morning. Other than getting one of your officers injured and failing to search the premises after a forced entry, you did just fine. If I am wrong, please correct me.”
“That was hardly my fault that officer Sykes was injured. She was posted in the backyard in case the perp decided to run for it, which he did. He just came out shooting. The risk she ran is the same as we all run the minute we put on the badge. And as for not securing the premises, I’ll allow that was a grave error and could have cost us our lives. I shudder to think of it.”
“Okay, good. I’m sure you have learned from it and we will speak of it knows longer. Now, there has to be a press conference. The good people will want to know if it was necessary to have a shoot-out in the streets of their fair city. What’s your take on that detective?”
“Well,” Richard started. “I wouldn’t even mention Howard’s name. We just say we were brought to that house by an anonymous phone call. A tip that Larry Parks was hiding out there. This Larry Parks was wanted in three states for murder and bank robbery. He was armed and dangerous. We identified ourselves as police officers before we entered the house. That way Howard won’t even be sure that we are looking for him. He doesn’t know there’s a warrant out. Shit, he might even think he is still clean.”
“Ok, that’s good. I’ll do the press release and take the question and answer part,” the chief said. “This being an election year I’m becoming very fond the TV and the press. Oh by the way, how is officer Sikes doing anyway? I hear it is just a couple of broken ribs. Maybe I should go see her, you know. Give her a medal. That would look good in the papers. The chief of police standing by the bedside of a wounded officer, good for the election. Yes indeed.”
While Clayton was waiting for news from Richards about the arrest of Melvin Howard, aka Howie, his phone rang. It was Michael Lansing from California.
“Getting to be a circus out here Clayton. All the department heads are wandering around from office to office like lost sheep. The stockholders are wondering what’s happening. There’s no one at the helm of this ship and it’s starting to spring leaks. The chairman of the board and owner is out of state, the vice president has vanished, disappeared into thin air.”
“Yes Michael, I know all that, but I can’t get away right now. I’m just now out of the hospital and this thing with Michelle is still unresolved.”
“This is not good, not good at all Clayton. Something has got to happen and pretty quickly.”
“Okay, now listen Michael, this is what’s to be done. I want you to set up a conference call in the boardroom. Make sure the Board is all present along with the various department heads. Where I’m staying has a satellite hookup s
o we can communicate both the audio and video. When you get that arranged, let me know and I’ll take it from there.”
“Wait, I have another call coming in right now, I have to ring off, take care of it.
“Yes, who is this?”
“It’s Richards and before you ask, we didn’t get him, he wasn’t home. Instead, we had a shoot-out with some dirt bag, who was hiding out there. One of my officers was injured and the asshole was killed outright.”
The Crawford Chronicles - Book 1 Page 23
