The Medusa File by Robert F. Clifton (popular books to read .TXT) 📕

his office he could see seagulls riding currents of air, some appeared to be hanging motionless while others would occasionally flap their wings to regain their balance and maintain their position as they stayed stationary looking for their next meal. Kevin turned from the window at the sound of the ringing telephone on his desk. Picking up the receiver he said, “Major Crime Squad, Sergeant McKenna”.

“Good morning Sergeant. Charles Mooney here. How are you?”

“Fine Mr. Mooney”

“I'm calling to let you know that since our last conversation a few things have happened”, said Mooney.

“Such as?”

“Such as I spoke to our legal team and our lawyers seem to be somewhat ambiguous when it comes to your question about whether or not we would be obligated to pay should you produce evidence that the policy holder was a victim of homicide. Be that as it may, I personally feel that our company should pay under the circumstances you have presented. So, I want you to know that is my position on the matter. However, at the same time that you made your inquiry I have been told that someone other than yourself has requested not only information, but payment on the policy carried on Harry Nichols. Does the name Delores Rodriguez mean anything to you?”

“Not at the moment".

“How about a Edward Dawson?”

“I am familiar with the name Edward Dawson. Let me ask you something. How are they connected to the insurance policy your company has on Harry Nichols?”

“Edward Dawson is listed as the beneficiary”.

“I see. Interesting. Very interesting. What about Rodriquez?”

“I assume that she called on the behalf of Mr. Dawson”.

“ Strange”.

“If you say so. In the meantime should you have evidence that Mr. Nichols was in fact a victim of a homicide please contact me. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes, what is the face value of the insurance policy on Mr. Nichols?”

“Ten thousand dollars”.

“I see. Thank you”.

“You're welcome. Good by”.

McKenna sat down at his desk and wrote down the information he had just received. Right now the only thing of importance was the fact that Ed Dawson had taken out a life insurance policy on Harry Nichols.”Now, the question is did Dawson do the same thing with Peters and Holmes? If he did the policies had to be with other insurance companies, because Mooney made no mention of any one asking about the two men”, McKenna thought to himself.

Kevin looked up to see John Collins. “Did you hear anything from Boston?”, he asked

“Oh yeah. Dawson has a clean record up there. Their report says that they have no record of an Edward Dawson. What do you want me to do now?”, said Collins.

“Run his name through N.C. I. C. (National Crime Information Center)”

“Got it. No problem”.

At two, twenty seven in the afternoon Sergeant McKenna was told that he was wanted on the telephone. He left the filing cabinet where he had been looking for some information, walked to his desk, saw the blinking light on line two. He lifted the receiver and said, “Sergeant McKenna”.

“Sergeant? The word on the street be that you payin big money for information for them deaths that happened years back at the place on Albatross Lane. That right?”

McKenna didn't recognize the woman's voice so decided not to volunteer any information. Instead he said, “Who told you that?”

“Word be that Cool Loo Harris is supplying you with stories, stories about a woman named Altina Woodson. Ain't that right?”

“If it is what do you know about her?”

“More than that old fool Cool Loo. Me and Teeny worked the streets together. Then she got uppity, if you know what I mean”.

“No, I'm afraid that I don't”

“Let's just say she left the streets and did better than the rest of us”.

“How?”

“Oh no darlin. That bit of news goin to cost you. Tell you what. I'll give you a couple of days to chew on what I've told you. Then, I'll call you again to see if you be as smart as I think you be. Bye baby”.

Mckenna hung up the telephone then sat thinking. After about five minutes he reach for the phone again and dialed Mary Wallace's number. It rang three times then a man's voice came on the line. “Hello', he said.

“Uncle Bob?”

“Yeah. You want me or Mary?”, asked Robert Wallace.

“You, but where's Aunt Mary?”

“Grocery shopping. We've got to eat you know”.

“Well it's you I want to talk with”.

“About what?”

“Don't most police informants hide the fact that their dealing information for pay?”

“Certainly”.

“Well I just got a telephone call about five minutes ago from a woman who says that Cool Loo is selling information. Big money, she said”.

“Really? The old bastard must be going soft in the head. Who is this woman?”

“I don't know. She said that her and Teeny Woodson worked the streets together until Teeny got, she used the word, uppity”.

“Interesting”.

“Yeah”.

“What else did she say?”

“To be brief, she wants to get paid for information about Teeny”.

“Do you want or need more information about her?”

“Well, I still haven't made a connection between Teeny and Dawson”.

“Then I suggest you meet with whoever this caller is, but don't pay too much for the first bit of information. You do that she'll think you are an easy mark. When are you going to meet her?”

“She's cagey. She told me to think over what she had told me, “Chew on it”, she said.

“She sounds like a street wise hooker. If and when she calls back play as if you're not too interested. That should do two things, make her anxious to do business and to lower her price whatever it might be. You should be able to determine if she's got legitimate information or bullshit. Let me know how you make out”.

“Thanks Uncle Bob. Later”.

Ten days passed And at ten fifteen on a Friday morning Mckenna received a second call from the unidentified woman.

“Sergeant? You think over what I say?”

“About what?”, asked Kevin.

“Now don't go playin games with me. What I got, you not only want, but need”.

“Maybe yes. Maybe no. What you got to tell me only moves things along a bit. In all probability I'll get all the information I need sooner or later in other ways and for that matter from someone else”.

“If you talkin bout Cool Loo he don't no shit from Shinola when it comes to Teeny”.

“If I was interested in what you have to say, how much will it cost me?”

“Five hundred”.

“No way”.

“What you mean no way? What I got is good, might even say it be gospel”.

“That good huh?”

“Better believe it

“Tell you what. We meet. You Talk. I listen. If I think what you have to say is good, I'll go two hundred”.

“Two hundred? No way”.

“O.K. thanks for calling”.

“Wait a minute! Wait a minute! How bout you think about raisin the fee after you hear what I got to say?”

“Maybe, I can't promise that”.

“Then I think we should meet”.

“Where and when?”, asked Kevin.

“Sunday, ten fifteen in the morning. You know where Ebeneezer Baptist Church is?”

“Yes”.

“There be a 2011 white Cadillac parked near an old oak tree in the parking lot. Be a dark skin man behind the wheel. You come to the car. Open the back door. I be in the back seat. We talk then”.

“Sounds good. Why the church yard?

“Plenty of parked cars and all the good people be inside. Bye.

And don't forget the money”.

 

On Sunday morning Sergeant McKenna drove on to the church parking lot. He stopped, looked around and in the distance heard the sounds of someone playing a piano and a multitude of voices singing. On the far side of the lot he saw the oak tree and he headed for it. Pulling up beside the Cadillac he saw a Black man wearing sunglasses seated behind the steering wheel. Kevin shut off the motor, opened the car door, got out, closed the door then quickly opened the back door of the white car.

Once inside he sat next to a light skin Black woman he judged to be about sixty five years old. She was well dressed with a latest hair style and was slightly overweight, but still attractive. Since it was winter she wore a mink coat, even though fur coats were not in fashion or popular. He looked at her and said, “Before I do business I like to know who I'm dealing with”.

“I understand that. They call me Twana so you can do the same”.

“Last name?”

“Davis”

“Fair enough. Now, what have you got to tell me about Altina Woodson?”

“Like I told you. Altina and me worked the streets together.

About six months of selling our ass in the backseats of cars, hallways and alley ways she come to me one day and say, we got a place where we can turn tricks”.

“I asked where?”

“She say a roomin house over on Albatross Lane.”

“I remember askin, Ain't that place legit?”

“She say, Yes, but we can use the third floor”.

“Then I say, How much this gone to cost us?”

“She say, We get forty for turning the trick, we give the owner ten.”.

“I say, no way. Things bad enough out here. I need all the money I can make for myself. Ain't goin to give it to somebody just to get out of the cold”.

“Then what?”, asked Kevin.

“So we parted ways. I run into her about eight months later and we gets to talkin. She say she has a new gimmick. Seems she takes a john to the roomin house. Someone either gives the john something or he takes somethin. That I ain't sure of. You got to remember that were forty some years ago. Anyway Teeny say that she don't even have to go to bed with the dudes. She takes what she wants and someone moves the john out of the house”.

“So she rolled her customers”, said McKenna.

“Yes indeed”.

“And she was never arrested?”

“Not only never arrested. The bitch never had a complaint filed against her”.

“O.K. Now, you mention the rooming house on Albatross Lane. Who was the owner and operator at the time?”, asked Kevin.

“White dude and his wife. Man called Ed Dawson”.

“What can you tell me about them?”

“I can tell you this much. The only time I saw him he looked me over like he wanted me in the sack and his wife were standing right next to him”.

“Really?”

“Don't let what you see now think that I looked like this back then. I turned many a head”.

“And tricks”, said the man behind the wheel”.

“You shut your mouth fool. Ain't nothin I saying got anythin to do with you,” said Twana

“Let's get back to Ed Dawson and his wife. What can you tell me about her?”, asked Mckenna.

“Puerto Rican gal. She say she from somewhere outside San Juan, then into New York City then down to here. Funny thing though. I been to San Juan. Had me a john who treated me right. Flew me down there to spend a week with him. Anyway, I asked her bout the Americana Hotel and Casino. She never heard of it. Hell, I played the slots there. Truth be it went under. It was skimmed from the inside. Oh well that's another story. Anyway, she's a big woman, especially for a Latino”.

“What do you call big?”

“She's probably five foot eight or ten. At that time might have weighed a hundred and sixty or seventy pounds”.

“Really?

“Yes. I couldn't really understand what Dawson saw in her, but as they say, to each their own”.

“Anything else?”

“Ain't that enough?”

“Not for two hundred bucks. You haven't mentioned the deaths that occurred in the rooming house”.

“I've got the goods baby. Just goin to take some time. Sides, We just feelin each other out. Ain't that right?”

“Yeah, but what you've told me isn't worth two hundred.”

“Then how much you think it's worth?”

“A hundred for what you just told me. Another fifty, for let's call it a retainer fee”.

“What do you mean, retainer?”

“You want more in the future, you work for me”.

“Let me tell you something Sergeant I use to get screwed for forty dollars. Now, you