Manning was smiling, “Good, I’m so glad Jessie found you, was Sugar Bear bad to you Jasmine?” She nodded “Sugar liked to hurt girls, he liked to make us bleed and cry; he burned me and cut me, and had really painful sex with all the girls.” Manning thought to herself I wish I would have killed that bastard myself. Then she said “Can you tell me Jasmine, how did you end up with Sugar?” With that Jasmine began to sob and hyperventilate. Manning immediately knew what Jessie had told her was true, but she continued. “Jasmine, it’s ok; you’re safe now, you with Shelby and Jessie, nobody’s going hurt you.”
Jasmine nodded and sobbed; “There were two men, they held me somewhere in a big building, they raped me and did other horrible things to me. They were going to kill me, I ran away one night, Sugar found me. He cut my hair and gave me drugs, he told me I belonged to him. If I tried to run, he would find me and kill me. You don’t understand Jessie, he didn’t need to take me in; that man has a big heart.”
Manning had to take a deep breath, what this poor woman had been through was incomprehensible. “Jasmine, the men that held you, do you know who they were?” Jasmine nodded and sighed, “I don’t know their names; I don’t want to, Jessie showed me a picture from the news paper, it was them. They were smiling in the picture, I was so afraid, but Jessie told me everything would be ok, and it is. Oh God, I hope Rachael is going to be alright, she is such a wonderful person, she never hurt anyone.” Manning agreed, “I know she is Jasmine, we are all praying for her to get well again.”
Manning sat back and thought; what have we stumbled across here, I am certain Carr killed Sugar, and probably killed Allen and Shuster, but what does this have to do with the Calliope gang, more unanswered questions.
A few minutes later Jessie and Shelby returned. Jessie told everyone there was no change; Rachael was still in a deep coma.
Chapter 56
That night Manning and Thibodeaux were at the Blue Light Bar having a late drink. Manning had told Thibodeaux about the conversation with Jasmine. “You know Ryan, he saved that girls life, and God knows how many other girls that fucking animal was hurting.” Thibodeaux thought that over “I know, but we can’t just go around killing all the scumbags in the city, shit, we would wipe out half the population.” Manning sighed, “I also think he did Allen and Shuster, I don’t know how, but I’m pretty sure he did. That’s two bastards that really deserved whatever they got.”
Thibodeaux signaled for another round, “I guess so, we’ll never prove that though, and I can tell; you don’t want too. What’s with this attraction to Carr anyway?” Manning took a deep breath, “I don’t know Ryan; I guess I should have lived in the old west, you see something not right and you fix it. That’s what Carr did, he fixed it. I just can’t figure the connection to the Calliope, that’s all.”
There beers arrived and they sat silently, Thibodeaux brushed his hair back and said “Shit, the old west, a gunslinger, is that what Carr is; a gunslinger? My partner called them Genuine American Heroes, maybe they are, I just don’t know. All my life I was raised to respect the law, now I’m not so sure, but we just can’t let everyone run around and make their own laws.” Manning was shaking her head, “Is that’s what’s happening, all I see is the law being enforced by someone who knows right from wrong. He sees something wrong, and he fixes it, is that so bad? And you know, what gave us the right to become judge, jury, and executioner? We both did it, and these shields we carry don’t give us that right.”
“Crap, you know, we said we weren’t going to talk shop all the time and here we are doing it again.” Thibodeaux chuckled and continued “Maybe you’re right, I don’t know, this whole case has been a cluster from day one. Now his home get’s invaded, two shitbirds are dead and his wife is probably fucked. Sometimes I hate this Goddamn job. I swear if I had my twenty in I would pull the plug.” Manning started laughing “You so full of shit; pull the plug and do what, be the fucking greeter at Walmart?”
They both laughed and ordered another round.
The following morning they were lying in bed. Thibodeaux raised himself up on one arm and looked at Manning. “You know, I have an idea, and you gonna hate it.” She laughed “We just finished your last idea and I need a good shower, you really aren’t ready for another round yet?” Thibodeaux had to laugh “No, silly, but that’s probably better than the idea I had. I was just thinking about Carr.” She looked at him and shook her head, “We just finished making love, and you laying here thinking about Carr, man that sure don’t say much about me.”
Thibodeaux sighed, “Oh no, that’s not what I meant, well I was just thinking, ah crap, never mind.” Manning couldn’t stop laughing, “Shit dummy, I’m pulling you leg, what are you thinking about.” Thibodeaux was hesitant to start, “Well, I just figured out a way to prove whether or not Carr was a killer, I mean, we know he is, but this would prove it for sure.” Manning closed her eyes and shook her head, “I thought you said you didn’t want to jam him up.” Thibodeaux was startled, “No, no, I don’t, I’m mean, just to prove it to ourselves, that’s all.”
Manning was skeptical “What the hell are you talking about Ryan, come on, spit it out.” Thibodeaux explained “Ok, that gang banger, Little G, we had a talk with him before he kicked out, we didn’t get shit, but what if we mention to Carr, or at least you mention, that Little G was sent by the new head of the Calliope?” It was Manning’s turn to look shocked, “Wait a minute, you gonna lie to Carr so he takes a shot at, what’s the new assholes name anyway?” Thibodeaux thought “The guy that took Rufus place, real name is Vincent Morgan, street name Snake. Took that name cause of some fucking movie he likes, but I hear he is a real snake in the grass. Now just hear me out, we leak that our boy Snake ordered the invasion of Carr, if Snake suddenly meets some unfortunate accident, we know Carr is our boy, Snake don’t get touched, what’s the harm?” Manning almost yelled, “What’s the harm, holy shit Ryan, you talking about murder here, not fucking backgammon, somebody gonna die in this little charade of yours.”
Thibodeaux sighed again, “That’s the point Cheryl, I just want to see what happens, worse could happen is Carr fucks up and gets wacked, shit best can happen, Snake becomes extinct. Shit, there’s no downside to this.” Manning laughed “No downside, holy crap, you never cease to amaze me Ryan.” Thibodeaux took that as a compliment “Right; and you know Carr is too careful, Snake is toast if he decides to do him. “
Manning couldn’t believe it “You are serious aren’t you. Christ, count me out, I think you fucking lost your mind; you asshole, you talking about accessories to murder. No down side, I can’t believe it.” She threw the covers off and walked in the bathroom, looked back one time at Thibodeaux still lying on the bed. She shook her head, slammed the bathroom door and locked it behind her.
Chapter 57
Captain James O’Shea was sitting in his office, it was Thursday morning. He had run the gun given to him through Ballistics. It had come up as a match in three unsolved murders, including his late partner, Rosie Santos. Of course he had told everyone the weapon was recovered from Lucio’s body, no way he could tell the truth. The man in the diner had done in one week what every major law enforcement organization in the north east could not do. He had essentially shut down the illegal flow of drugs into those ports. Of course, he had no idea how many laws had been violated in the process, probably plenty, including murder.
He was thinking it was probably time to retire. Trying to operate within the law wasn’t working; he was getting more and more frustrated each day as criminals walked because some lawyer had figured a loophole. But what would he do, he had no one, Rosie dead, wife and kids gone. He would probably end up eating his own gun.
He though back over his career, he had probably only pulled his gun about a dozen times. He had only fired it once, and that time he had missed. Damn, not much of a legacy. He realized the feeling of working with the men from down south was exciting. He was really sorry they hadn’t gotten Guzman.
He would still be around taunting every cop in the area, untouchable.
But he wasn’t untouchable, if a few men, operating outside the law could bring down two major suppliers, then they could bring down Guzman. Was that the answer, he hated himself for thinking it, but the thought intrigued him.
He had devoted his life to this job and for what. He had a steady paycheck and a small retirement; big deal. He had no one outside the job, and that really hurt.
O’Shea’s office phone rang; it was Jimmy Daigle, his ex partner from New York. “Hey James my boy, what’s happening good in our neighbor State?” O’Shea smiled “Well Jimmy, you big ass New York Detective, you must be slumming if you calling me.” Daigle laughed “I know you up to your ass in dirtbags, but we got some info from a shitbird snitch who worked for Guzman. Our snitch says the king wop is shaking in his boots. Seems whoever took his cuz down is the same guys looking for him. I hear they even passed the word that they would be visiting him soon. Man, I never saw this bunch so spooked. The local gangs are staying clear of him; they don’t want to get caught in the crossfire. The supply on the street is dried up, this place is weird man, I never saw nothing like it. You got anything on the Lucio thing? I want to give them fuckers that took him down a metal; our local wops are shitting bricks.”
O’Shea laughed “Well I’m sure glad our local criminals are helping you New York boys out, I mean, that’s my fucking goal in life, to make you happy. But just to let you know, we don’t have much. Had some blood from the scene, running a DNA match, but nothing yet. Looks like there were either two or three of them, came in through a skylight in the roof.” Daigle exclaimed “Shit, I heard that, I know those wops have cameras and shit all over, how the hell they get up on the roof without being seen?” O’Shea had to laugh again, “It seems our local criminals are a lot more resourceful than yours, looks like they jumped from a moving train car onto the roof, and they had to do that with all their gear.”
Daigle was flabbergasted, “Are you fucking serious, if I was part of the wop community I would be shitting too, these cocksuckers mean business. Damn, I wonder why they went after Lucio and not Guzman though, that’s the part that I don’t get. Oh, and I heard about Lucio’s little pee shooter, you got ballistics for what, three murders? Hey and I heard one was Rosie, man I’m glad you know for sure, I still feel bad about that one. Sorry dude, I know how much she meant to you.”
They were both silent for a moments, deep in their own thoughts. They promised to keep in touch and disconnected. After O’Shea hung up the phone, leaned back and considered the call he had just received. Maybe, just maybe, taking Lucio out had spooked Guzman enough to make that one big mistake, and if he did, O’Shea wanted to be there.
Chapter 58
Antonio Guzman had never felt this way in his life. He was sixty three years old and the king of the New York and New Jersey drug world. He had survived many attacks on his domain, but for some reason now he was unable to combat this latest enemy. He was inside his New York warehouse, in a small office that resembled a bunker, and he still didn’t feel safe. At any one time there were a dozen armed men loyal to him, protecting him. And he was still bothered, unable to even think the word, afraid.
Guzman had been on the top of the world for the last thirty one years. Leo, Antonio’s father had come from the old country following the Great War in 1922. He had arrived bearing the name of Leone Guzmano, however, not wanting to be associated with the Italian Mob he reported to America as Leo Guzman. He may not have wanted to be associated with the mob, but he brought his bad habits with him. He was a gun for hire, a very good one, for the New York Mafia in the late 20s. He had moved up in the organization and taken over when then head, Mario Liuzza had been incarcerated. Twenty five years later Leo had been killed. Of course, no one knew that Antonio had his own father murdered. The two men who had committed the crime turned up floating in the East River. Cousin Lucio had made sure there was no way this could lead back to Guzman, funny how that stuff worked.
Guzman wasn’t sorry to see Lucio murdered, people like him were easily replaceable, and to be truthful, Lucio knew too much, but the way it had happened had been upsetting. The warehouse on Clinton had been a mirror image of Guzman’s New York warehouse, if they could get to Lucio that easy……well.
Guzman had everything he needed inside this warehouse, well almost, truth be told there was one major thing missing, a companion. Antonio had been married to the same woman for forty four years and had four children. But his wife wasn’t the companion he missed, it was Claude. On a business trip to France many years ago a much younger Antonio had met a much, much younger Claude. The physical attraction to Claude was undeniable and a sexual relationship began. What began as a one night fling had grown into a full blown love affair. Of course, no one, absolutely no one could ever find out about this. A man in his position had to maintain a masculine image, and a homosexual relationship would threaten his power.
Keeping such a thing secret was difficult and expensive. Antonio kept two apartments in the same building on 64th Street in Manhattan. One on the twenty sixth floor was a twenty seventh hundred square foot apartment for Ms Mary Strong, Ms Strong received a free apartment in one of the most expensive addresses in New York, and the price of this luxury, was her silence.
On the twenty seventh floor of the same building was another identical apartment, however, this one was occupied by Mr. Claude Girard, Antonio’s lover. When he visited Claude his body guards escorted him to Mary’s Apartment, unknown to all except Mary, Claude, and Antonio a rear stairway connected the apartments. Antonio would pass through Mary’s apartment, climb the stairs, and be in Claude’s arms in minutes.
Like every great secret in the world, it wasn’t entirely a secret. Several of Antonio’s men knew the inner workings of the apartments and knew of Antonio’s proclivity toward Claude, but to keep their income and their lives they kept quiet.
There was one other little secret known only to Antonio and a very few trusted soldiers. Antonio needed to present an image, and his mistress had to be a young and beautiful woman. Unfortunately for Mary who was now twenty nine years old, time was her enemy. It wouldn’t be long and she would be replaced with a twenty one or twenty two year old. But Mary simply knew too much, she would disappear as four other before her had, too bad for Mary.
Ever since he had discovered the undercover cop who had infiltrated his organization things had not gone well. He had no idea if the men who had killed Perroni knew of him, but since he was tying up looses ends he may as well tie up that one. One of Perroni’s men who had been there during Perroni’s murder had told him of that night. The undercover cop was no problem, he trusted the men Guzman had sent with him on the pretext of picking up a drug shipment, they had shot him and disposed of his body.
The other loose end, Perroni’s killer’s had turned into a nightmare. He had sent his two most reliable men, Halsey and LeBlanc to take care of them. They had not returned nor had they reported in. These two were the best in the business, what had gone wrong? At first he thought the Feds had rounded them up, but an informant had told him the Feds were looking for them also.
Then three weeks ago, Lucio, his cousin had been murdered. This seemed impossible, Lucio was always careful, never venturing into the open, never being more than a few feet away from his bodyguards. That was bad enough, but the loss of another shipment had hurt his credibility. He needed to get behind this, and do it soon.
Chapter 59
It’s been nine days since the shooting; I’m still sitting here praying. There has been little change since. Her body had grown stronger, but there is no indication that her brain was healing. They performed a brain scan and say they see almost no activity, I don’t want to believe that. I need her back and can’t bear the thought of losing her forever, there has to be something, anything. Shelby, Jasmine, and even Carl have been in often. I told Carl he shouldn’t have taken the chance of coming in, he didn’t care; Carl alw
ays does what Carl feels he has to do.
Detective Manning has come in many times, always sympathetic; Even Detective Thibodeaux has come in. Everyone is praying in their own way. I had just come out of Rachael’s room after my five minute visit. When I entered the waiting room there was a young man sitting in one of the chairs. I nodded hello and he responded with a nod.
We both sat silent for several minutes and he finally spoke “The nurse told me the patient could only have visitors for five minutes every hour.” I looked at him and nodded, “Yes, they say they only allow one person at a time but have relaxed that rule some, I have had another friend visit with me.” He grunted and nodded, several minutes later he said “May I ask you a favor?” I was surprised but said yes. “May I go in with you on your next visit, if you wouldn’t mine?”
I was surprised, I didn’t know this person, “I’m sorry, but do I know you?” He shook his head no “No, I don’t believe we have ever met, I know Rachael though.” I wasn’t sure how to ask this question, so just asked “I have no objection, but can you tell me, how you know Rachael?”
He looked down deep in thought, looking up he smiled slightly and extended his hand, “I’m Walter Kleinberg, I’m Rachael’s son.”
Chapter 60
Walter Kleinberg
Walter Kleinberg was born in New Orleans on February 24th 1969. He was the only son of Dr. Walter Kleinberg and Miss Rachael Clark. Dr. Kleinberg was a prominent heart surgeon and spent many hours away from home. On April 15th 1977 Dr. Kleinberg divorced Rachael, citing unreconcileable differences. The real truth was Dr. Kleinberg had believed he had married below his social class and wanted something better. To combat the stress and loneliness Rachael had been drinking. Dr. Kleinberg used this information, and his influence to gain full custody of his now eight year old son, Walter.
Three years later Dr. Kleinberg, who was a British Subject having been born in England, was offered a teaching position in a famous English Hospital. He took his son, and over Rachael’s objections, moved to London. Dr. Kleinberg had remarried a year later. His young son, Walter, was sent to a prestigious boarding school in Kent. Young Walter excelled in his classes, but hated the atmosphere. He wanted badly to spend time with his father, but saw him very rarely.