Counter Blow by Robert F. Clifton (ebook reader for pc .txt) đź“•
As a result of a loophole in the law Wallace looses his key witness. Yet, justice is done
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- Author: Robert F. Clifton
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Captain Haynes will now give you what information we have. Captain Haynes”.
Captain Ernest Haynes stood, walked behind the dais, placed a file folder on top, put on his glasses, cleared his throat and said, “What we have, and it isn't much, is that two black males, probably in their late teens or early twenties have committed two robberies. In one of those robberies the suspects was armed. Naturally, we know that since the victim was shot. We are also under the opinion that the last robbery one of the suspects was armed, but did not brandish a weapon. In both cases witnesses have told us that one of the men carried a long, cloth bag. We think that inside that bag is a sawed off or short barrel shotgun. We were able to retrieve one pellet from a victims leg indicating that the weapon used is a twelve gauge shotgun. We also were able to obtain additional evidence, that being stands of cloth also from the victims leg indicating that the assailant raised the weapon and fired through the bag. We know this from forensic examination of the cloth fragments which indicates a charring of the fabric threads and gunpowder residue
also contained in the cloth samples.
That ladies and gentlemen is what we have at the present time.”
Chief Monahan then stood and walked behind the dais. “Alright do any of you have any ideas? If so now is the time to speak”, he said.
“Is there any other physical evidence? You mention two black men. How black? Are they dark complected or light complected? How tall are they? How much do they weigh?”, asked Captain Jankowski, Commanding Officer of the Juvenile Division.
Captain Haynes spoke from his chair. “Sorry about that. One witness described the man with the cloth bag to be light complected, about five foot six, weighed about one hundred and fifty pounds. The other man was described as tall about six feet thought to weigh between one hundred and eighty to two hundred pounds and is dark complected”.
“Thank you”, said Jankowski as she made notes.
“I notice that in both cases the victims were elderly Jews operating Mom and Pop stores. The first, a small time liquor store situated in the Inlet section of the city. Next, was the robbery and assault in a small grocery, also in the Inlet. It seems to me that these two are operating against these type of business establishments knowing that there will be no or little resistance in the commission of the robbery. These two know that the elderly Jews will not fight back. They also know that there is always money in the till. At the same time what they're getting in these two robberies is small amounts of cash. A hundred here, Two hundred there. These types of holdups leaves these two hungry for more. I'll predict that the next hit they make will be for big bucks,” said Wallace from the back of the room.
“Anything else, Captain Wallace?”, asked Chief Monahan.
“Yes sir. If I had to profile these two I would say that one of them is definitely sadistic and psychopathic. He probably enjoys placing his victim if fear then either beating them or shooting them”.
“Interesting. Inspector Lewis, as Commanding Officer of the Patrol Division I want an increase of units operating in the Inlet. At the same time all patrol units in the city are to pay particular attention to Jewish owned businesses. Although the descriptions of the suspects is meager at best, I do not want young black men harassed. One thing I don't need right now is the black community on my back. If there is nothing else, you are dismissed”, said the Chief.
Chapter Three
Double Trouble
On, Friday night, November 5, 1976, Nautilus Beach High School's football team beat Oceanville 20-12. After the game the fans, most of them teenagers walked down the main street singing, dancing and cheering. Automobiles filled with high school students blew horns and shouted as they leaned out of open car windows.
Several blocks away, on the North side of town Donovan Bennett and Leroy Dunbar sat at the kitchen table of Iris Mitchell. The two man sat taking sips of whiskey from shot glasses. As they talked, they went over their plan again and again.
“I say that we take him right at closing, That way he be counting his money. Just be him in there. That mean less trouble for us. You show that shotgun and threaten to blow his dago ass away if he don't comply. You know what I'm saying?”, said Bennett.
“Yeah, I hear you. Still think it best we take them all, him, them that's in there drinking. Could be some rich out of town people be there. Some might even have their bitches with them. That mean diamond rings, watches, pearls. We take all that along with the dagos money”, Dunbar answered.
“Who be it that thought up this here deal?”, asked Bennett.
“You”.
“Then I'm sayin we do it my way. At closing. Making the hit with people in the club means a hell of a lot of witnesses. Sides, you too damn anxious to shoot that gun you got. We don't need another shooting. Bad enough you got the man on our ass after you shot the old kike”.
“You didn't see the look he gave me. He gave me no respect”.
“Bullshit. I seen the look in his eyes. Looked like a deer caught in a headlight when he took out his wallet. Tonight, you just keep your cool. Show the gun. Don't use it”.
“Yeah yeah, and don't talk so loud. Iris hear you and will want to know what's going on.”
“You leave Iris to me. She my woman. Does what I tell her. Sides, she in there watchin television. You got another sack to cover the gun?”
“Got me a new one. A laundry bag. Dyed it black. Make it hard to see when we walk down the street”.
“I guess that's a good idea. I'm telling you again. Don't use it. Just show it”.
“Man, I hear you. Get off my ass about it. What time is it?”
“Clock on the wall say ten fifteen”.
“And what time you say the Hobby Horse Club close?”
“Midnight. He stay open till two in the morning during the season. This be November. Midnight”.
“Well since I gotta wait, I'll have me another taste. You want one?”
“No and make this your last taste. You be crazy enough sober. Don't need you half hit in the ass”.
At eleven forty five pm. Bennett and Dunbar walked slowly up to the doors of the Hobby Horse Club. Bennett tried the doors and found them open. He opened it slowly and looked in.
Johnny Gargiulo, stood behind the bar counting the receipts of the day. The bar maid and a waitress were putting on their coats ready to leave and go outside into the cold night.
Bennett stepped back and in a low voice said.”Bar maids leavin. They come out of the door you let me do the talkin. You know what I'm sayin?”
“Man I hear you”.
When the door to the club opened Janice Miller the bar maid and Cynthia Helms came out. Bennett then said, “How was business tonight ladies? Hope you all made plenty of tips. Is Johnny inside. Got to talk to him. It be important”.
“He's behind the bar”, said Miller as the two women left, walking to their automobiles.
Bennett walked through the unlocked doors. Dunbar followed. Johnny Gargiulo looked up from counting money. “Sorry fellas we're closed”.
The two men walked up to the bar then stopped. Dunbar removed the shotgun from the black laundry bag.
“Just handover what you been counting there and don't do anything stupid,” said Bennett.
Gargiulo stiffened when he saw the shot gun. “Hey. You don't need to point that thing at me. Take what you want. Hell, it's only money”, he said as he handed the bundle of cash to Bennett.
“Outside, on the corner of Brighton and Pacific Ave. Patrolman Roger Grant stopped his patrol car in front of the Hobby Horse Club. He looked at his wristwatch noting the time to be Eleven Fifty P.M. In five minutes his tour of duty would be over and as usual he would drive to the police garage and turn in his vehicle.
As he waited he reached into his shirt pocket, removed a pack of Lucky Strike Cigarettes, took one out, lit it and inhaled. As the smoke was leaving his lungs he rolled down the drivers side window and as he did he heard what sounded like a gunshot. When he got out of the car two men ran out of the nightclub.
Grant reached for his revolver and at the same time radioed in, “Hobby Horse Club Shots fired. I'm in pursuit of two black men. Repeat shots fired.”
He exited the car and began chasing the subjects on foot, shouting “Halt! Police!”
Suddenly both men stopped. Bennett put up his hands. Dunbar didn't. As Grant walked up and stood in front of them he said to Dunbar “Put up your hands”.
Dunbar raised one hand and then the other, the one with his finger on the trigger of the shotgun. When it was high enough, he fired.
The two men then began running. As they ran the sirens of on coming radio cars blared in the night.
Robert Wallace was in a deep sleep. Somewhere a bell was ringing. As it rang it slowly brought him out of his slumber. Half asleep he reached out with one hand and pushed the button on the alarm clock. Still, the ringing continued. With eyes closed he pressed the alarm button repeatedly. Even so, the loud, disturbing sound remained.
Mary Wallace sleeping next to him said in a sleepy-voice, “Answer the telephone”.
Wallace grabbed the receiver and placed it next to his ear. “Hello”, he said weakly, not yet fully awake.
“Captain? Sergeant Stiles. We got a bad one. Two murders, one of ours. You'll be needed down here”.
“Down where?”
“The Hobby Horse Club”.
“Who was killed?”
“Johnny Gargiulo and Officer Grant”.
“How?”, asked Wallace as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Looks like a shotgun was used on both of them”.
Wallace stood up and walked to his closet. “Do you have the crime scenes protected?”, he asked as he pulled a pair of pants out of his wardrobe.
“Yes sir”.
“Do not allow the bodies to be touched by anyone. I'm on the way”.
“Yes sir, but there's starting to be a large crowd of curious by-standers forming.
“Call in for uniformed officers to come to the scene for crowd control”.
“Yes sir, got it.”
Wallace placed the receiver back on the cradle and began getting dressed.
“What's the matter?”, asked Mary.
“Double homicide. Night club owner and one of ours”.
“Oh no”.
“Go back to sleep. I don't know when I'll be home. This is going to take some time.
Chapter Four
A Day Of Drums
Captain Wallace made his way through the crowd of people all eager to see the body of the slain police officer who laid now on the cold concrete of the city sidewalk. It was covered by a sheet, put there by some responding officers.
Wallace crossed the yellow police tape strung from a parking meter to the doorknob of an empty building. Sergeant Stiles stood with a notebook and pen in his hand. Seeing Wallace he went to him. “Which crime scene do you want to examine first? This one, or the one inside the club?”
“I'm
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