The Innocents by Nathan Senthil (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

Joshua deflated. “Fine. I’m being a worrywart. Let’s get down to business.”

“What’d you need, Chase?” Wheeler asked. “I thought I gave you all the intel I had. About the truck hijacking, about Detroit Alliance.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking.” Joshua leaned on the table. “Before I linked the MacSharp truck hijacking to Lolly, we thought his first ever recorded crime was in 1982.”

“Yeah.”

“Now that we know he began sooner, maybe we could find something before that.”

“Before 1981?”

“Yeah. Crimes related to theft or robbery, with Lolly’s signature unfettered violence.”

As Wheeler’s fingers drummed the desk, the lines on his forehead deepened. “That timeline falls under the period of John Nichols.”

Peter shrunk his eyes. “Are we supposed to know him?”

“Not if you aren’t an old, black Detroiter or an old-timer cop. Uncle John, as Mr. Nichols was affectionately called, was famous because he’d gestated STRESS when he was the commissioner of the DPD.”

Peter asked, “Stress? Stress for who?”

Wheeler laughed. “No. It’s an acronym.” He pronounced each letter separately, as if Peter couldn’t spell the word. “Abbreviation for Stop The Robberies, Enjoy Safe Streets.”

Joshua said, “Yeah, I think I’ve heard about it. A controversial decoy unit within the Detroit PD, right?”

“Correct. Back during those desperate times, there was no subtlety in crime. The voracious street urchins robbed people in broad daylights, in front of witnesses.”

“That’s ballsy of them,” Peter said.

“Uh-huh.” Wheeler nodded. “Those hellions put the kids who call themselves gangstas these days to shame. None of these hoodlum-wannabes with low-hip jeans and YOLO caps. No. What the kids in old Detroit had was desperation. And zero fear. That’s what kindled so much will and courage in their little rotten hearts, it was unworldly.”

Peter said, “So that’s why this STRESS was created?”

“Correct. Officers would disguise themselves as oldsters, drunks, Johns, or hippies. When the evil sons of bitches decide to rob the officer… well, that’s where the controversial part comes in.”

Peter said, “Because the cops were trigger-happy?”

Wheeler burst chuckled. “That’s putting it mildly. When STRESS was active, they were responsible for more than 90% of death by the police. Most of the criminals they shot down didn’t even have a gun. And in a few publicly embarrassing incidents, officers were found guilty of planting weapons on the victims they’d killed.”

Peter said, “Wow. That sounds a lot like TV.”

“I hear you. But remember that reality—history specifically—is far more violent and animated than any movie or show ever created.”

“I’ve heard about a few dirty cops taking bribes, or even doing some favors for the Five Families, but not something as blatant as this.”

“The STRESS officers weren’t dirty per se, not at least in the normal sense.”

Peter scoffed. “Except they were murderers with a license to kill minorities.”

“I agree.” Wheeler lifted his hands. “Old time Detroit, particularly the seventies and eighties, was the golden age of crime.”

Peter lifted his eyebrows. “That bad?”

“Cowboys and Indians, real-like.”

“Were you in STRESS?”

“Good god, no. But I was still in the force. Wanna know about my first day as a cop?” Wheeler’s face turned as if he’d tasted something sour. “I chased a scrawny kid for two miles on foot. The idiots who’d brought him in didn’t frisk properly. So he unlocks the cuffs while back in the police cruiser. When they open the door, he smashes their faces in and runs out like a bat out of hell. And since these two were obese, I had to take off after the kid.”

“You catch him?”

“Nah.”

“Too fast?”

“Also too smart.” Wheeler looked up and sighed, as if he still regretted failing to catch that boy. “But that day was still a lot better than others. I’m telling you all this so you’ll get the gist of how prevalent crime was back then.”

Joshua asked, “There’s no use researching all the violent property crimes from that time period?”

“Too voluminous you wouldn’t even know where to begin.” Wheeler shook his head. “And people didn’t trust us back then. Chances are, we might have had as many unreported crimes as the reported ones.”

“Fuck,” Peter said.

“I second that, brother,” Wheeler said.

As Joshua thought, he took out his Skoal tin and utilized two packs to accelerate his brain. “How about your snitch from the Detroit Alliance? Is it possible for us to meet him?”

“Can be arranged, but why?”

“The mole in MacSharp’s logistics department was working for the Detroit Alliance. Without his information, no one would have known that the Desert Eagle was being transported that night. If we find out who hijacked MacSharp’s truck on behalf of the Alliance, we unmask Lolly.”

“You’re correct.” Wheeler clasped his hands on the table. “If anyone can shed light on this, it would be the snitch. He used to be an enforcer.”

“Used to? What happened? Has he gone straight?”

“Ha-ha.” Wheeler didn’t try to hide the duplicity of the laughter. “Far from it. He’s in the big house for attempted murder.” Wheeler brought his voice down and murmured. “Could have been murder if the bastard were able to shoot straight.” Then he laughed at his own inside joke, while Peter and Joshua exchanged awkward glances.

“Let’s go then?”

Wheeler checked his watch. “The visiting hours are over for today. I’ll schedule a meeting for tomorrow.”

“What do we do in the meantime?”

“Take a load off, guys. Enjoy our fine city’s nightlife. Just don’t forget to bring your sidearm.”

Joshua said, “R-really?”

“Detroit isn’t as bad as they make it out to be.” Wheeler waved him off and laughed. “I’m kidding.” Then he stopped abruptly, staring icily. “Or am I?”

* * *

Joshua couldn’t sleep that night. It had been almost two hours since he’d switched off the lights and started minding the door, with his revolver on his lap. No phone or TV. He needed