 
### The Stiff in the Five Hundred Dollar Suit

Part of the Detective Halloway Series

Steve Matthew Benner

Smashwords Edition

Copyright Steve M. Benner 2014

Prologue:

The darkness lay upon the city like a heavy, damp blanket. The streetlights along the sidewalk broke the darkness to create islands of light that stretched in an archipelago as far as the eye could see. It was quiet, sounds muffled by the damp heat. Even the roar of a passing car was quickly absorbed by the air, lost to those living in the aged brownstones lining both sides of the road. There was no one to hear the staggered footsteps that broke the silence; no one to help. The well-dressed owner of those footsteps stumbled into the decorative iron fence that separated the public sidewalk from the private property. To steady himself, he placed a hand on the ironwork; a hand covered with the blood leaking from a ragged tear in his shirt just below his rib cage. His hand slipped; he fell heavily, cracking his chin on the pavement. A small stream of red flowed from the new wound. He lay there staring at one of the streetlights and realized that it would be the last thing he would ever see. He thought this was one hellava ending for someone who had so many plans and showed such potential. It all meant nothing. 'I shoulda told them, warned them, but I trusted her and now it's too late.' He would no longer play a part in the activities of which he was to be the center. Now it would be up to those still living to punish the person who ended his life; who snuffed out all he would have become and accomplished. As the mind behind the eyes slowly shut down, the retinas no longer registered the images. The book of this life ended, and a new thread was created in the lives of those that would be touched by his passing.

Chapter 1:

The sun beat down mercilessly on the two concentric half circles around the prone body on the sidewalk, outlined in chalk. The outer circle consisted of people wearing shorts and T-shirts, jockeying for a better position to see what was going on in the inner circle but being restrained by blue-clad officers. The inner circle was made up of four men loosely clustered around the dead body on the sidewalk, all wearing ties over white shirts spotted with sweat. The one bending over inspecting the body was the medical examiner, Samuel Goldstein: white male, 5 feet 10 inches, 200 pounds, mid-fifties, a bald top fringed with white hair, brown eyes, a little overweight, and normal features. The man standing over him on the opposite side of the body was Chief Detective, Harvey Halloway: white male, 5 feet 11 inches, 185 pounds, early forties, brown hair with a few streaks of grey, brown eyes, muscular build with slight mid-life paunch, bullet scar over right eye, and ruggedly handsome features. Standing about six feet behind Harvey taking everything in was rooky Detective, Jack D. Delany, 'JD': white male, 6 feet 1 inches, 195 pounds, mid twenties, blond hair, blue eyes, sinewy build, attractive features, and looks younger than actual age. The fourth man fluttered around the scene snapping photos of anything interesting was the police photographer, John Kiley: white male, 5 feet 6 inches, 155 pounds, mid-thirties, black hair, brown eyes, medium build, and normal features.

Harvey asked, "How long's he been dead, Sammy?"

Sam: "I'd say about 8 hours give or take a half hour. I'll give you a better answer once we get him back to the morgue."

"That means he died between 11:30 PM and 12:30 AM last night. Let's roll him over. JD, help us here." The three men grabbed the stiff body and rolled it face up.

"Anyone recognize him?"

JD: "Nope."

"I don't either, but I'm not surprised.... Nice suit."

JD: "Yeah, musta cost at least $500 bucks."

"Any ID?"

JD: "No wallet. Maybe someone rolled him."

"Then why didn't they take the diamond ring and that watch, they're not cheap. He looks pretty well off...hhhummm...that's funny. Sammy, look at this."

The medical examiner looked at the corpse's waxy hand as Harvey held it up.

Sam: "What?"

JD bends over to see, "Whadaya see, Harv?"

"Well, the hand is well manicured, but they're covered with calluses. These're the hands of someone that didn't grow up with a silver spoon in his mouth."

JD: "Maybe he came into money recently or he has a rough hobby."

"I guess. Sammy, how long did he last before he died?"

The ME opens the shirt and inspects the wound. "It looks like he was stabbed with something like a stiletto and the wound's deep. I'd say it took about 10 minutes to bleed out."

"That makes sense, the blood trail is only about 100 feet. This was done by someone he knew; it was up close and personal...Wait...Hhhhummm...Do you smell that?" Harvey bent closer to the body sniffing. The ME mimicked his actions. "That smells like lavender. Do you smell it?"

Sam: "Yes, I do. You have a good nose."

"My ex-wife used to love the smell and had cologne with that odor."

JD: "Maybe he was a poof?"

"I doubt that, more likely from a woman he came into contact with. He seems pretty muscular under that suit. This guy was no desk jockey. I want to see him with it off."

JD: "Hey, maybe you're a poof, Harv?"

"Very funny. Why don't you make yourself useful and start questioning those people in the crowd? Hell, the murderer may be among 'em. Also get some uniforms to start canvasing these brownstones to see if they'd heard or seen anything."

"Geez, I was just kidding." JD turned toward the crowd.

"Sammy, I'd say from the angle, the killer was right handed and facing the victim. Also the angle is slightly up, which would indicate an assailant slightly shorter."

Sammy: "Yeah, that looks about right."

"Hey, John, get some photos of the face and get me some copies ASAP."

John: "Don't I always, boss?"

"Don't call me 'boss.'"

A uniformed officer walked up to Harvey, "The meat wagon's here."

"I guess we'd better get this body someplace cool before it starts to bloat. Sammy, is it okay to move it?"

Sam: "Yeah, let's get it out of this heat. I'll start the autopsy as soon as I get it back to the morgue."

"Let me know when you have the results."

Sam: "Will do."

Two men in white smocks approached with a stretcher, casually rolled the corpse onto it, and headed back to the truck with their load. Sammy headed back to the police station, but Harvey stuck around to inspect the murder scene for another half hour before heading to the nearest call box to phone in a report.

When he got back, JD was standing, talking to individuals in a crowd that had begun to scatter as soon as JD had walked up to them.

"JD, I called in the report. Keep trying to find someone who saw or heard something and meet me back at the station."

JD: "Why do I get the crappy job?"

"Because you're the junior partner, remember?"

Harvey turned away and started walking along the cars abutting the sidewalk, only stopping when he'd reached a red Studebaker covered from bumper to bumper with scraps, dents, and scratches, not to mention dirt. He pulled hard to open the door and was greeted with the loud annoying screech of metal on metal. The interior was littered with empty beer cans, Chinese food boxes, napkins, used tissues, etc. as if someone had dumped a trash can into it. Harvey brushed about half the food crumbs off the seat before depositing his posterior onto the well-worn fabric. He inserted the key and then started the car. A sound similar to dog growling came out from under the hood, going up and down rhythmically while Harvey yelled, "Com'on, com'on, com'on" in cadence. After a few more cycles and a few expletives like "You piece of crap," the engine caught and started to run fittingly. Harvey ignored the large plume of black smoke that shot out of the tail pipe and pulled out without checking traffic.

Reaching under his car seat, Harvey brought up a bottle of Old Southern whiskey containing about one swig, which quickly disappeared down his throat.

"Crap, now I gotta make a stop at the liquor store." He lit up a Lucky Strike.

In spite of his attempts to hide it, it was an open secret at the station that Harvey drank almost constantly, and that he kept a pint of whiskey in the bottom left drawer of his desk. He'd pour it into his coffee and take a drink periodically when he thought no one was watching. No one mentioned it, even Captain Patrick Dawly didn't mind as long as he did his job and didn't appear drunk. Harvey was a maintenance drinker; he had to have a certain level of alcohol in his blood to function properly, to face the daily grind. Plus, he was far from being the only nearly drunk officer at the station.

After stopping at the liquor store, he went by his favorite deli at the corner of 6th and Washington Avenue for a corned beef on rye with mustard and a slice of cheese. This culinary repast would join the collection of previous half-eaten sandwiches scattered around the station house where Harvey laid'em and forgot'em. The other officers were always afraid to throw them away because they were never sure Harvey was done with them; sometimes he'd absentmindedly pick one up and take a bite thinking he had just laid it down. Harvey's reaction would vary depending on the age of the sandwich.

As Harvey was driving back to the station, he realized he was approaching his 10th anniversary with the police force. He had resigned his commission as a captain in the Army right after the War, and, after a break, had signed on as a police cadet even though he was older-than-the-norm recruit. During the War, he had wanted nothing more than to get back to his wife, Maggie, and settle down with a brood of kids. Returning home, he'd been happy for a while, but although he'd left the War, it'd not left him. He still dreamed of the men close to him who'd been killed, and not just killed, but mutilated by artillery, machine guns, and mortars. Over and over again, he'd see the faces of his friends and those he'd sent to their deaths. With time, he turned moody and depressed. It only took two years before Maggie couldn't take it anymore; she wanted kids, but he kept thinking of the kids that died under his watch. She left him and was now married, living a couple states way. He hates himself for losing her, and her face was added to the demons that haunted his nights.

He also thought of all the human depravity he'd seen as an officer. Luckily because of his service, he was promoted very quickly to detective and was now the chief homicide detective. He had worked on many types of cases and luckily he'd managed to keep a certain amount of detachment from the victims and sometimes the perps. That kept them from being added to his cadre of demons. Only when children were involved did it ever get to him.

Chapter 2:

Harvey drove up to the stone monstrosity that served as the 12th District's police HQ; he's said that if Russia every hit their city with a nuke, he wanted to be in the basement of this building, because it'll be the last one standing. He pulled his "piece of crap" into a parking space with his name stenciled on the building over it. He was as proud of getting his own parking space as he was about getting his detective's badge; you know you've made it when you have a designated parking space.

His desk was in a large open area containing another dozen that served as the squad room. The detective squad had twelve members divided into B&E, Vice, Assault, and Homicide, but everyone was expected to do double duty depending on the workload. A pall of blue cigarette smoke hung over the room creating an atmosphere similar to the one that hung over the city on hot days. JD's desk was pushed up against Harvey's so as they would face each other. Harvey wasn't too happy about that, but it made communications easier, though the small talk was irritating. He pulled out his sandwich and coffee and quickly supplemented the latter with alcohol, then ate while going through the mail and files on his desk. JD showed up about an hour later and sat opposite him.

"Did you get anything useful?"

JD: "Yeah, I did. A woman named Arleen Gibbs said it sounds like her neighbor; a man called Victor Palenski, but she couldn't be sure without a photo. I told her we'd be back to ask more questions."

Harvey picked up the phone and dialed three numbers. "Hi, Debbie, I need you to see if you have any info on a "Victor Palenski." Just guess at the spelling for now. Thanks."

JD: "Hey, Harv, whadaya think about this case?"

"JD, I'm going to give some excellent advice on homicides. The majority falls into two very general categories. The most common is the instantaneous, reactionary, emotional type. Husband and wife fight, then the husband grabs something and bludgeons his wife to death; or maybe a bar fight escalates into a death match; or a man catches his wife cheating on him and kills her and her lover; and so on. These are easy to solve, because the perp doesn't have a pat story ready and is easy to break under interrogation. We usually get a quick confession. The other is the carefully planned and executed murder: businessman kills his partner, a husband hires a professional to kill his wife, a son kills a parent over money, etc. This is the type that's always challenging. These take mental footwork as well as the physical footwork. I've worked on several that took me months to finally crack; a few still remain open. There were even some that we weren't allowed to pursue further due to people in high places telling us to back off."

"I've always liked the murderers that thought themselves so much smarter than us, and the funny thing is that they were probably right. But they had forgotten one very important thing: experience can trump smarts. We've seen dozens if not hundreds of murders and have developed an innate instinct for clues and body language. It's referred to as a 'hunch' or a 'gut feeling.' During the war, there were people in England who could recognize a plane overhead as friend or foe at pretty much 100% accuracy. When they tried to teach this to another person, it couldn't be done. The new person just had to keeping guessing until he got it right and then repeated the process over and over, hundreds of time until he could guess right 90% of the time. It's like one's subconscious takes in all the inputs, makes these calculations to get the answer, and then sends it to the conscious mind. You don't know how you got the answer, but it's right. I think that's true of detectives once they've worked on dozens of cases. So even if the perp is smart, the detective usually has the edge."

JD: "I was looking for a short answer, but that's pretty informative. I think you just told me I won't be good at this until I have many cases under my belt."

"See, you're getting smarter already."

JD: Uhoh, Vicki is approaching on your five o'clock."

Harvey looked over his right shoulder to see Vicki zeroed in on him. She was wearing the police civilian's light blue blouse and dark blue skirt with two beautiful gams coming out the bottom. Vicki Newsome: white female, 5 feet 8 inches, 135 pounds, late thirties, black hair, brown eyes, 34C-27-39, and, though not beautiful, way above average in looks.

"Hi, Vicki, what brings you up here?"

Vicki: "John asked me to drop the photos off to you. Plus I wanted to see if you were going to take me out to paint the town like you promised? You owe me big." She dropped the large manila envelop on his desk.

"I know I do, but I just started this case, and I need to get my hands around it before I can take some time for myself."

She puts her hands on the desk and leans forward, giving Harvey a clear view of her décolletage. "Why don't you get your hands around me? I'd think that'd be more rewarding."

"I appreciate the offer, but please just give me a rain check. Okay?"

Vicki: "I've got a drawer full of your rain checks. You've better watch it or I'll lose interest." She turns in a mock huff and begins to walk away.

JD: "Hey, Vicki, what about me?"

Vicki: "Sure, JD, let me know when you get out of high school." She kept walking.

JD: "Ouch. Harvey, why aren't you up this dame's skirt?"

"Oh she's just kidding with me. I don't think it's serious."

JD: "Geez Harvey, you can't be that blind. She's obviously got the hots for you."

"I tell you what JD, I'll stay out of your private life; if you stay of mine."

JD: "But you don't have one to stay out of."

"How about getting back to the case? Here, take one of the small photos of the victims face. I'll get the rest passed out to the rest of the guys assigned to the case. Let's go back to the scene and talk to this Mrs. Gibbs."

JD: "Are we taking your car?"

"Yes, I like to drive."

JD: "Your car is an embarrassment. It stinks inside. I've seen cleaner trash dumpsters than your car. Let me drive; I actually have a real car?"

"No, I'm driving and quit insulting my car."

JD: "If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to get you to buy a new car. For my sake."

"Quit bellyaching. Let's go."

Chapter 3:

JD spent the trip back to the scene constantly smoking cigarettes and sticking his head out the window.

JD: "Geez, Harv, did something die in here??"

Harvey ignored the comment and, parking, got out directly in front of the murder scene marked off with tape and a chalk outline where the body had been.

JD: "Her row house is 1554."

They walked up to the door and Harvey rang the bell. A smallish elderly lady answered the door almost immediately, indicating that she'd probably been watching the two men approach. Arleen Gibbs: white female, 5 feet 2 inches, 160 pounds, late sixties, grey hair, brown eyes, heavy build, and grandmotherly features.

"Mrs. Arleen Gibbs?"

Gibbs: "Yes, won't you come in?"

"Thank you. I'm Detective Halloway, and I think you've already met Detective Delany."

Gibbs: "How do you do? Would you like some coffee?" The two detectives entered the house and sat down on the couch together.

"No thanks."

Mrs. Gibbs sat down in a well-padded chair opposite them. The house was filled with old furniture, dating to about 30 years ago and cluttered with all types of chachkies, mostly German in origin. There was a picture of a young Mrs. Gibbs and a young man in a uniform, nicely framed on one of the end tables.

"I understand you may know this man." He showed her the photo of the corpse.

Gibbs: "Oh, dear, I was hoping it wasn't him. He was such a nice man. That's Mr. Palenski. He used to come over and fix things for me; we have a handyman in 1560 who's supposed to do maintenance, but he's usually drunk and always hard to find. We'd talk for hours over coffee. He said I reminded him of his mother. He lived right next door at 1552."

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Well, he said he came here from Italy about two years ago, but he was really from Hungary. He said he'd worked for the military during the War but fled to Italy near the end. I got the feeling he was worried that his work during the War might get him into trouble, but he never told me what he did."

"What about family?"

Gibbs: "He said that they had all died during the War."

"Did you meet any of his friends or did he mention any?"

Gibbs: "No, not that I recall. I did see him recently with a woman."

"Whad she look like?"

Gibbs: "I really only got a glimpse one time. She had very dark red hair and was very well dressed, but that's about all I could see."

"Did he talk about his work?"

Gibbs: "He said he was a car mechanic, but he seemed very well educated for such a job. I think he worked on the southeast side of town, near the warehouse district. I don't know what company."

"Did he have a car?"

Gibbs: "Yes, it's parked right in front. It's the blue Buick. I think they call it a Riviera. Nice car. Expensive, I think."

"Anything else you can tell us about him that may be useful?"

Gibbs: "Well, he was a very nice man, very good at fixing things. I'll miss him very much. It gets very lonely here. I don't get out much anymore."

"Thank you very much for the information. Here's our station's card if you think of anything else that may be useful." All three stood up and moved toward the door.

Gibbs: "Please let me know when the funeral is. I would like to go."

"We don't really do that sort of thing, but I'll try to let you know. We'll keep you posted but it may be a while till the body's released. Thanks again."

JD and Harvey stood outside on the sidewalk, looking at the brownstone next door. The shadows of the buildings were now elongated; the heat not as oppressive.

JD: "That was pretty informative. How can a new immigrant working as a mechanic have a new car, fine clothes, and a row house? Seems like he's living well above his means or else auto mechanics make a lot more than I thought."

"I agree. He must have been into something. Let's check the door to his house." They walked up the steps, but when they tried the door, it was locked. The mailbox by the door had the handwritten name 'V. Palenski' on it. "See if you can find that handyman. I'll call in and meet you at Victor's car."

JD: "Right."

They headed in different directions.

Harvey walked down the street to the call box. "Hi, this is Halloway; put me through to Debbie in ID....Hi, Debbie, glad you're still there. That name I wanted you to check...Yeah, Palenski, it's spelled P-A-L-E-N-S-K-I. He's an immigrant from Italy about two years back. Check with IMS and also see if the Italian and Hungarian embassies can provide more info...Yeah, he's originally from Hungary. Also, call army intelligence, ask for Major Dorian, he's a friend of mine and see if he can get you more info on this guy...Also, let me know if there are any next of kin we need to contact. Thanks."

The new Buick stuck out among the older cars along the road. Harvey slid down onto the nylon-upholstered front seat. The registration on the visor confirmed that the owner was Victor, but there was little else in the car that was useful; a pack of Camels in the glove compartment and some maps. The car still had that new car smell. Harvey was actually impressed and thought maybe a new car wasn't such a bad thing; a lot had changed since he'd bought his Champion. When he checked the trunk, the only thing there was a fully loaded toolbox.

JD walked up to the open car door. "I can't find the handyman. I think we may be fuck'd for today."

"JD, I've told you I really hate cussing. I got enough of it in the army to last me the rest of my life."

JD: "Sorry, I forgot. Whadaya want to do?"

"Why don't you call it a day? I'll take you back to the station and then let the Impound know we want this car taken to the lab to be checked more thoroughly. Also, I seem to remember a set of keys on the victim, probably the house and car keys. Sammy should have the autopsy done by now, and I'll get the keys when I talk to him."

JD: "You sure you don't need me anymore tonight?"

"No, it's okay. Everything else can wait until tomorrow morning. It's been a long day."

Chapter 4:

Back at the station, Harvey walked into the morgue and located Sammy writing at his desk. "Whadaya got for me on the dead guy?"

Sam: "I was just writing up the autopsy report. It's like I said, he died around midnight from a single stab wound that punctured his left lung. The blade was seven inches long and very narrow, a stiletto. He probably didn't even realize what had happened at the time. Other than that, he didn't have any other major marks; there are a few small scars. He was very muscular and appeared healthy otherwise. His teeth were in bad shape, but you mentioned he was from Hungary, so that may not be unusual. I'll have the full report on your desk by tomorrow morning."

"You have his personal effects down here don't you?"

Sam: "Yes, you want'em?"

"No, just the keys. We need them to get into his row house tomorrow." Sam handed Harvey the evidence bag from which he took a set of keys. "Thanks. See you in the morning."

Sam: "Good night."

Harvey dropped by the Impound desk to give them the key to the Buick with instructions to give it a good going over. He wanted to go to Victor's row house to check it out, but it was now past 7 PM and Harvey decided he was too tired and hungry to work any more tonight. As he was leaving , he let the desk sergeant know where he could be reached, at home. He was always on call, and, based on past experience, he knew these murders came in waves. He was sure this was just the beginning.

Harvey turned the key in the lock to apartment 8C in the Cooper Arms building. He took off his badge and the belt holster with his Smith and Wesson M&P .38 special revolver and laid them on a small table near the door. The apartment had a grand picture window that gave him a view out over the city; he loved this view of the downtown area all lit up and teeming with life. The furniture was sparse but relatively new. He'd lived here almost six years and had either added or replaced most of the pieces during that time; as a result, he had just about gotten it the way he wanted to keep it. It was large at 2000 square feet and had two bedrooms and a full kitchen. He used one of the bedrooms as his office. Unlike his car, the place was neat and well kept. This was due more to lack of activity in the apartment than to actual cleaning. Harvey had a maid come in once every few weeks to clean.

He filled a glass with whiskey from his bar and sat down on the couch. There was a coffee table just in front and a television set in front of that. He didn't turn the TV on much; he used to watch the Your Show of Shows with Sid Caesar but, since it went off the air, usually he just read. Along one wall was a large bookcase completely filled with books mostly on history, science, and philosophy. Harvey enjoyed reading but was usually too tired to read much, and the alcohol didn't help. Taking his shoes off and lying back on the couch, he grabbed a book on the philosophy of Kant off the coffee table and began reading. Within 30 minutes, Harvey's snoring filled the apartment.

Chapter 5:

Harvey went to the police gym most mornings and did so on this one. He worked out with weights and the punching bag. He'd been a boxer in his late teens and had kept it up while in the service. The army added hand-to-hand to combat techniques to his boxing skills. Occasionally he'd go a few rounds on the mats with fellow officers either boxing or self defense to keep up his skills and instruct rookies. He was known as someone you don't want to make mad, though that seemed very hard to do, since only a couple of the older men had ever seem him lose his temper. When he did, it was very impressive.

It was still early when he got to his desk, so he called JD at home and told him to meet him at Victor's row house instead of coming all the way in first. Harvey was already there when JD showed up.

"Sorry I woke you up."

JD: "I doubt that. I think you like calling me early in the morning knowing I'm still asleep."

"Yeah, I do actually. Well, let's check out his place."

They went up to the front door, and Harvey unlocked it with the key. The inside layout was typical of these types of row houses. As one entered, there was a long hallway with a staircase to the left. To the right was the entrance to the living room, and the kitchen was down at the end of the hallway. A doorway in the kitchen led to the back yard. The living room was modestly furnished with a couch and two comfortable chairs, no TV. A fake fireplace was located opposite the entrance and bookcases lined two walls. The two detectives began searching the living room. On a table by the front window was a framed photo of a young man, young woman, and a child. The man was Victor.

"This must be the family that he lost in the war."

There were also photos of older people, probably parents and grandparents, placed on the mantel, shelves and tables around the apartment. One color photo caught Harvey's eye. It showed Vince with a very attractive dark-red haired woman.

"Hey, JD, look at this."

JD: "Wow, she's a looker. She must be the one the neighbors saw with him."

Harvey took the photo out of the frame and put it in his pocket. A continued search of the room did not yield anything significant, nor did the kitchen, so they moved upstairs. There were two rooms upstairs, one was the bedroom and the other was set up as an office with a large desk. There were more photos in the bedroom. JD opened the closet.

JD: "Look at this, Harv. Two more suits like the one he was wearing. He knew how to dress."

The bedroom having failed to provide any clues, Harvey started rifling through the desk drawers in the office.

"Here we go. This is a pay stub from "Sal's Used Cars and Auto Repair." Now we know where he worked, with my old friend Salmonella."

JD: "What? Isn't that a dangerous bacteria?"

"I don't know if I'd call him a bacteria, but dangerous is right. That's our nickname for Salvador Minnelli, the head of the syndicate here in our fair city. Sal steals cars and cuts them up for parts, then uses them to fix used cars to sell on his lot. But he also runs numbers, prostitution, gambling, drugs, you-name-it out of his business down there. He controls the rackets for the whole city and answers to the Chicago mob, though he's fairly independent of them."

JD: "Sounds like our murder case has gotten a lot more complicated."

"And deadly."

When Harvey and JD had gotten about everything they could get out of the place, Harvey used the telephone to tell the lab to come down and dust the place for fingerprints. JD would stay there until the lab boys arrived, while Harvey headed back to the station.

When he got to his desk, the autopsy report was already there, so he began to peruse it, Victor Palenski: white male, 5 foot 10 inches, 200 pounds, mid-forties, light brown hair, brown eyes, square features, fit build, and a fatal knife wound to the left side of the torso. It was pretty much what Sammy had told him last night. Off to the side of his desk was a blackboard, upon which Harvey now began writing down the facts of the case so far. It only took about ten minutes because there wasn't much at this point.

JD walked in and headed straight for Harvey. "Hey, Harv, look what I've got for you." He dumped a half dozen brochures on Harvey's desk. "These are brochures on this year's new cars. I thought you and I could look them over. Some are really nice."

"JD, I appreciate your enthusiastic interest in my transportation, but I think we've got more important things to deal with."

JD: "Well, take a look at them and see if any really appeal to you. I like the Chevy Bel Air. It has a V8 engine with a Powerglide automatic transmission, and you can even get air conditioning."

"Okay, okay, I'll take a look. Let's get back to police work. That's what we're paid to do." Harvey was actually interested and thought he'd take a look at the brochures later. He'd accumulated a decent balance in his bank account over the years, so he knew he could afford it.

JD: "Well, where do we go from here?"

"You tell me. How do we proceed?"

JD looked at the blackboard. "Okay. We found out where he worked, but why did he have so much money? Of course, the money may not have been coming from his job; he was probably making money with Sal in something illegal. We need to talk to Salmonella about Victor."

"Good idea, but first I need lunch. Run down to the sandwich shop and get us some sandwiches. I'll take corned beef on rye with mustard and cheese and coffee."

JD: "No kidding. Do you every order anything else?"

"Yes, when they're out of corned beef."

Chapter 6:

JD returned in half and hour and placed Harvey's bagged sandwich on his desk then sat down at his to eat. Harvey took his coffee out of the bag and hid it behind his desk while adding whiskey, his discretion being totally wasted. JD didn't approve but acted as if he hadn't seen anything. He had wanted to talk to Harvey about his drinking but couldn't figure a way to broach the subject without looking like he was prying.

JD greatly admired Harvey for both his military service during the War, his outstanding abilities as a detective, and his general attitude of treating everyone with respect and courtesy, at least until they pissed him off. Harvey even treated the Negros and Spanish as equals, which was very unusual, and sometimes hard for JD to take. The police rarely visited the Negro part of town, Bayberry but referred to as 'Africa' and located in the southwest, since there was little interest in crimes against or by Negros. JD had heard rumors that Harvey sometimes went down there to help them solve crimes on his days off. There were some Negro cops that had been specifically hired to work in that area of town, but JD had heard they were not very effective, being considered 'Uncle Toms' by the residents. JD couldn't see going into Africa, let alone working there; he grouped them all as low-lifes and not worth any effort as long as they stayed in their area. When a Negro was caught for crimes outside Africa, the police treated them very harshly, usually being badly beaten and given harsh sentences for petty crimes. The police were sending a message that Negros could do what they want to each other but don't touch the whites.

JD: "I've come to the conclusion that being a detective involves spending a lot of time following clues that mostly lead nowhere.

"Sounds about right. The job is ninety percent wasting our time. What did ya expect?"

JD: "More chasing crooks and shooting, I guess."

"In my ten years, I have only discharged my gun maybe ten times in the line of duty. That's once every year. If it wasn't for the required training for firing our weapons, I'd hardly know what it looked like."

JD: "Great."

Harvey caught Debbie approaching his desk out of the corner of his eye, Deborah Simpson: black female, 5 feet 5 inches, 160 pounds, black hair, brown eyes, heavy build, and regular Negroid features. "Well this is an honor. What brings you up here?"

Debbie: "I wanted to see your face when I gave this to you."

"Something interesting about our victim?"

Debbie: "Take a look at who sponsored him when he came from Italy."

Harvey opened the binder that Debbie had just dropped on his desk. He quickly found the name. "Salmonella."

JD: "That explains a lot except why Sal would want a mechanic so bad that he'd get one from Italy?"

Debbie: "Actually your friend Major Dorian provided the answer. He said that they can't get much out of Hungary because of the iron curtain, but he did have some info on our guy. Apparently Victor worked with the German and Hungarian militaries developing shaped charges. He was a explosives expert."

JD: "What's a shaped charge?"

"An explosive charge shaped in such a way as to direct the energy of the explosion into a small spot. We used it during the War to penetrate tank armor. A criminal like Sal could use someone that knows a lot about explosives."

Debbie: "It also may solve your problem figuring out where he worked unless you guys have already figured that out."

"Yes, we have, thanks to a pay stub from Victor's house. He worked at Sal's used car and auto repair place in Alban."

Debbie: "The last thing on your list was next of kin. I couldn't find anything. He came to the US alone and didn't have any relatives in Italy. He may still have relatives in Hungary, but we can't really get much out of the commie government there. Sorry, I drew pretty much a blank.

"Well, at least we tried."

Debbie: "I've gotta get back, see ya later."

"Thanks a lot, Debbie. I owe you one."

Debbie: "You owe me a lot more than one, sweetie."

As Debbie walked away, Harvey continued reading her report, and, when he finished, he tossed the file over onto JD's desk. "Interesting reading. Sure explains the healthy income of our vic. Sal probably paid him well for his expertise and his loyalty." Harvey got up and started adding the new info for Victor to the blackboard. He also added Sal and his data, then drew a line connecting Victor to Sal.

"Let's go down to Alban to see Sal."

JD: "Not your car again, please?"

"You're such a pussy-wussy."

JD: "Did you really just say pussy-wussy?"

"Shut up and get your hat."

Chapter 7:

The southeast part of the city, referred to Alban from the name of the small village established there in 1789, was just north of the warehouse district and west of the docks servicing the ships coming up the channel from the ocean. Alban was heavily commercialized, containing many small shops for the repair and sale of autos, appliances, anything mechanical. If something was broken, this was where one went to get it fixed. There was also a scattering of the usual businesses, such as small groceries, bars, laundromats, cleaners, etc., and a large red-light area with strip clubs, prostitutes, mobsters, and other unsavory characters and businesses. This area serviced the workers and sailors from the docks as well as locals. The residential area was just to the west and was essentially blue-collar, lower middle class.

After what was an excruciatingly long ride for JD, Harvey pulled into the Sal's Used Auto and Repair lot on Sandusky Road. The lot was filled with clean shiny cars of all makes: Studebakers, Fords, Chevrolets, Cadillac's, Pontiacs, etc.

"None of these cars are stolen, but I would bet most of them have stolen parts."

JD: "How can he do that?"

"Except for some of the major parts, most aren't numbered, so they can be changed without a trace."

As Harvey parked and got out of the car, a young well-dressed salesman walked up to him. "Looks like you just barely made it here with that wreck. I'm sure we can put you in something nice."

Harvey and JD flashed their badges. "We're not customers. We're here to see your boss. I know the way." Harvey headed for the showroom, then passing the cars inside to head to the main offices in the rear. He stopped at a door that said 'Private' with two mean-looking men in darks suits standing guard.

They flashed their badges again, and one of the guards went inside the office. Returning almost immediately, he said, "Go on in."

Seated behind a large desk was a stocky man with a scowl on his face, Vince Gambetti: white male, 6 feet, 200 pounds, mid-thirties, black hair, brown, eyes, muscular build, hawkish features, and large scar on right cheek. Vince stayed seated. Another man similar to the ones guarding the door was off to the right, seated in a chair.

Vince: "Hey, look, it's Detective Hollywood or is it Halloween? Hah. What can I do for you coppers?"

"Well, well, if it isn't Vince Gambetti. JD, I don't think you've met Vince. He's Sal's right-hand flunky. He has a reputation for being very tough, though anyone that beats up women can't be too tough. He's reputed to have killed several people working his way up to second dog, but I think he's still just a petty criminal with visions of grandeur."

JD looked at Harvey as he spoke and saw in his eyes a fierceness that he'd never seen before. It looked like pure hate.

Vince: "Ya sure gotta smart mouth for a copper. Maybe somebody's gonna shut it permanent one day."

"They're willing to try; a lot have tried. Nice suit, Vince. I have to admit you guys dress really well. Must be Sal's doing. I'm putting you guys in for 'The Best Dressed Gangsters of the Year' award.

Vince: "Still cracking wise. Whadaya want?"

"I want to see your boss."

Vince: "He's not here. You gotta talk to me copper."

"You sure he's not here? Have you checked the secret office behind that wall?"

Vince: "There's no secret office. Like I said, whada ya want?"

Harvey pulled out a photo of Victor and threw it on the desk in front of Vince. Vince picked it up and looked at it.

Vince: "Am I supposed to know this guy? What about him?"

"We found him dead on the sidewalk yesterday morning. He'd been stabbed. Sal had sponsored his immigration here to the US, so we naturally assumed he worked for Sal. Take a good look."

Vince: "Never seen him. Sal has a hundred people working for him, I don't know them all. Now if that's all...get out."

"Vince, where's your manners. Aren't you gonna offer us a drink or maybe a bribe or prostitute? I hear that's what you offer some of my officers."

Vince: "Yeah, you coppers come cheap, we buy you like cigarettes. But I know you, and, if I offered you anything, I'd spend the next couple of hours in jail. So fuck you flat foot."

Vince's glare matched Harvey's in vehemence and loathing. The hate between them was visceral.

"I guess you're not as dumb as they say you are."

Vince: "One of these days me and you are gonna have this out."

"The sooner the better for me, Vince. Oh, you can keep the photo, it's a present for your boss."

Harvey and JD turned around and headed back toward the car. Harvey muttered under his breath just loud enough for JD to hear. "I swear I'm going to kill that son-of-a-bitch one of these days."

Once back in the car and headed back to the station, JD asked, "What the hell is between you two?"

"I used to work vice a couple years back and got to see Vince's handy work. He'd beat up prostitutes to the point of having them hospitalized. I also think he beat some of them to death and hid the bodies. No one missed 'em, so no investigation. He also beat up a few of his girlfriends, but they wouldn't press charges because they were too scared of him. I tried to get something on him and finally got him on an assault charge that sent him to jail for about a year. All it did was to make him meaner and hate my guts. The feeling is mutual. One of these days, we're going to settle this."

JD: "Wow, I don't think I have ever seen so much emotion from you. I'm impressed."

"Let's change the subject. He was obviously lying, plus he looked a little surprised about Victor being dead. That was very interesting."

JD: "Yeah, it's hard to believe him. You don't think Sal or his boys killed him?"

"I don't know yet. We should talk to Sal. He's at the Wildcat Club on Friday nights, so let's drop by tonight and see if we can get something out of him. He was probably in that secret office that we're not supposed to know about listening to everything we said; he'll already have the details before we talk with him tonight. We still need to talk directly to him to make sure."

JD: "Whadaya want to do now?"

"Why don't you go home for a while, and I'll meet you at the Wildcat at 8 PM tonight. I have some paperwork to clear up at the station, and I need to make a progress report to the captain."

JD: "I can do the report if you want? I don't mind."

"No, take a break. I want to put the work we've done in the right light to the captain. I'll take care of it."

When they got back to the station, JD went inside only long enough to sign out, and Harvey went to his desk and began writing out a report he'd have typed in the morning. He periodically filled his coffee cup with whiskey; since only the night shift was there, he didn't have to exercise as much discretion.

Chapter 8:

Harvey drove up to the front of the Wildcat Club and got out with the motor running. The valet looked at the car then at Harvey with a look of "You can't be serious."

"Hey, my regular car's in the shop."

The front of the club had "Wildcat Club" spelled out in script neon lights. There was a man dressed like a 19th century British officer standing at the front door serving as doorman and filter. A red carpet ran from the curb up the few steps to the front door, which was of very ornately carved wood. The façade of the building was of concrete made to look like stone. The overall impression was that someone couldn't make up their mind as to what style they wanted. Harvey was aware of the club and had actually dropped in a time or two. He knew Sal owned the place under some shadow corporation, but he was curious about who frequented the place; mostly the hoypoloi, CEOs, and gangster upper management. It was too expensive for working folk. However, it did have some of the best entertainment in town. Harvey saw JD standing off to the side and signaled him to come over.

"You got here early."

JD: "I thought I would stand around and see who was coming and going. A few toughs came up to me to find out why I was watching the club, but I just showed them my badge and said I was waiting for someone. Security seems pretty tight here."

"That's because Sal is here tonight. They don't want anything to happen to the unofficial owner of the club."

JD: "Sal owns this?"

"Yeap." As they head up the steps, the large man in the British uniform held out his hand signaling them to stop, but they both flashed their badges and he lowered it again. They continued through the door into the anteroom of the club. There was a hatcheck to the right manned by a pretty young girl, and they both checked their hats just to get a better look at her.

They pushed through the swinging double doors and were greeted with a cacophony of conversation and music. It was designed as a three-tiered, half circle arrangement, similar to a Greek theater, with tables on each level. A man was on stage singing Pat Boone's new hit "Ain't That a Shame,' but the music just blended into the wall of sound. The haze of smoke, the well-dressed crowd, and the scantily clad cigarette girls gave the whole scene an air of timelessness that could have come right out of 1920's Germany.

It wasn't hard to find Sal's party since it was the hub of activity. Harvey was disgusted by the rich's fascination with gangsters. He was well aware that many of the rich patrons were actually business partners or customers of Sal's organization, but there were many that just thought it was exciting being around men that kill for a living.

Sal's group was in a semi-circular booth on the third tier of the theater. He was seated in the center, to his left was Vince, and to his right was the most stunningly beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had on a bright red dress cut down to show plenty of cleavage and gloves to match. There was another woman next to Vince and a man next to the attractive woman, neither of which Harvey recognized. A matched pair of mean looking thugs stood bracketing the booth. There was a large group of people crowding the open part of the table; Harvey and JD just pushed their way through until they were face to face with Sal. Salvador Minnelli: white male, 5 feet 9 inches, 220 pounds, late forties, bald with graying hair on the sides, brown eyes, round head with small features, and overweight on the verge of being obese. He was wearing a very nice suit, as was Vince. Sal had a propensity for nice clothes.

"Hi, Sal, having fun?"

Sal looked up to see Harvey standing directly in front of him at the outer edge of the table. "Well, if it isn't my favorite detective, Halloway. Good to see you. I'd invite you to sit down but there's no room, though I don't think you could afford it anyway. Wait, I'll buy you and your partner a drink. Hey, Frankie, get a waiter."

"That's okay Sal, we're on duty. I dropped by your shop today to ask you some questions but since you weren't there, I talked to one of your flunkies...Oh, yeah, there you are Vince, beat up any crippled kids lately?"

Vince just glared at him.

"Where's your manners, Sal? You haven't introduced me to the young lady on your right."

Sal: "Oh yeah, this is my friend, Sadie."

Sadie: "Hello, Detective Halloway." She holds out her hand.

"Pleased to meet you." Harvey takes the gloved hand and puts his lips lightly on the knuckles. Sally "Sadie" Mitchell: white female, 5 feet 10 inches, 135 pounds, late twenties, dark red hair, green eyes, 32D-26-37, and 10 on a scale of 10.

Sadie: "Oh my, a gentleman."

"Sal, I wanted to ask you about one of your employees." He handed him the photo of Victor from the crime scene.

Sal: "Yeah, he worked for me. He was one of my best auto mechanics. I'm sorry to hear he was killt. Was it a robbery?"

"No, someone murdered him, and we don't have a motive yet. I thought maybe you could give me some insight."

Sal: "I'm sorry officer, but I didn't know much about him. You know, I've got about a hundred employees."

"Is that counting prostitutes, number runners, and hired killers?"

Sal: "Hey, watch your mouth. I'm a just a businessman with a liget auto repair place. Why da ya wanna to cast asppe....Hey, Vince, whad's da word?"

Vince: "Aspersions."

Sal: "Yeah, aspersions. Hell, we're both War heroes. Hey, everyone, Harvey here won the Silver Star during the War. He's a hero. Hey, Harvey, I got a Presidential Citation for my work helping the US Army driving the Nazis out of Sicily. We're comrades in arms."

"Sal, you helped the army because it was in your best interest. It made you capo of all Sicily. It had nothing to do with being a hero. You only left because the Italian government got sick of your crime syndicate, and your bosses on the mainland said move out or take a dirt nap."

Sal: "Dat's not true, copper; again with the aspersions. I think ya've worn out your welcome."

"I think I found out what I wanted to know. Victor must have been important to you because I don't think you're in the habit of giving your mechanics nice suits, jewelry, and cars. We also know what he did during the War. You've haven't seen the last of me or this case, Sal. Have a nice party."

JD and Harvey turned away, headed for the door. Sal nodded to one of his goons standing next to the table to follow them. They stopped by the hatcheck, getting their hats and tipping the girl. As JD continued talking with her, Harvey turned around and stood directly in front of the swinging doors, so that when the goon following them come through Harvey was right in front of him.

"I really don't like being followed, so if you follow us out this door, you may find yourself in a drunk tank tonight or arrested for illegal gun possession."

Goon: "Hey, it's a free country. I gotta permit."

"Then just go ahead and call my bluff."

The hatcheck girl gave JD something, and Harvey and JD headed out the front door. When he reached the curb, he turned to see if the goon came out behind them. He didn't.

"Whad she give you?"

JD: "Her phone number. She said she gets off at 11 PM. I'm gonna swing by and pick her up. She's very cute."

"I agree, but watch out, she works for Sal. Make sure she's not playing you."

JD: "I know what I'm doing."

"Let's hope so. Did you recognize Sadie?"

JD: "Yeah, she is the woman in the photo with Victor."

"This case keeps getting more complicated."

The valet with Harvey's car drove up to the curb, got out, and held the door. Harvey handed him a quarter and slid into the seat.

The valet began to say something, but Harvey snapped, "Don't say it." And drove off.

Chapter 9:

Having slept on the couch again, Harvey showered, put on clean clothes, and had a stiff drink before heading out to his car. He pulled open the door but, above the usual screeching metal sound, he heard a pronounced click and 'bring' like a spring letting go. Harvey had not heard this sound in over a decade, but it was one that no one that experienced it ever forgot. He violently threw himself backward and rolled a couple times ending up face down when the explosion went off. He could hear the shrapnel whizzing overhead and felt the hot metal entering his body. He knew he'd been hit, but he wasn't sure how bad; nor would he, because he passed out.

He woke up in the hospital with JD standing next to his bed.

JD: "Well look who's awake. You'll do anything to get out of work."

"How bad was I hit?"

JD: "Nothing vital. You gotta few pieces in your butt and one in your side that broke a rib. That was the worst. You were very lucky."

"Yeah, I guess I was."

JD: "The bomb boys are going over your car now. Do you know what happened?"

"Someone rigged a grenade to my car door. It was short fused to about five seconds so I was lucky to have gotten far enough away to survive. By the way, I've decided to accept your offer to help me buy an new car."

JD: "Smart move, considering your car is now in multiple pieces; at least it didn't catch on fire. I wouldn't count on getting much trade-in for it."

"Maybe Sal will give me a good price."

JD: "You think he did this?"

"Well we did goad him last night."

JD: "Whadaya mean 'we'?"

"It doesn't make much sense. Why kill me? It won't stop the investigation and most people I know that want to kill me, like Vince, would want to plunge the knife into my chest personally. Plus why would Sal want to bring a spotlight onto himself along with all the heat. I don't know...is there something I'm missing?"

JD: "Could it be a third party or someone totally independent of this case?"

"Of course, but then the timing would be purely coincidental, and cops don't believe in coincidences."

JD: "Well, whadaya want me to do? They say you'll be here for another three days."

"Bull crap, I'm checking out Monday morning. Drop by around 8 to pick me up. In the meantime, check with your snitches and see if you can find out anything big that Sal is up to. If he was using Victor to plan a job, then there must be some scuttlebutt on the streets. I wonder if he'll need to replace Victor? We'll need to pull files on all the explosives men in the area that are capable of replacing the vic."

JD: "Will do. I'll drop by latter tonight to let you know if I find anything."

JD left ,and the rest of the day Harvey slipped in and out of drug-induced sleep. When the nurses came in to medicate or feed him, he flirted shamelessly with the pretty ones without much reciprocation. A few fellow officers dropped in to check on him, and a couple even brought a bottle of whiskey with them, hidden in a pocket. Harvey was grateful for the libation and hid it under the covers but was disturbed by the fact that they knew what he wanted, even down to the right brand. Captain Dawly dropped by to make sure he was doing well and discussed the case with him. He suggested taking Harvey off the case, but Harvey vehemently argued to be kept on it, and the Captain relented.

At about 7 PM, JD came by, "Hi, Harv, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine, butt really hurts, more than my rib."

JD: "That's because it gets more of a work out than the rest of you."

"Thanks for the sympathy."

JD: "I didn't find out much so far, but my snitches and the one you gave me are checking deeper. Yours cost me $10, do I get that back?"

"I'll repay you. Snider always gets something for his info. I pay him out of my own pocket."

JD: "He did provide a few interesting things. Sal is definitely up to something. He has sent for some heavy hitters from Chicago, though it may be for a drug war that's brewing with the coons down in Africa. I guess they want a bigger part of the action and are beginning to push back on Sal's distributers. It could get ugly fast.

"Sal's not about to give up the drugs in Bayberry, it's way too lucrative. So is the extra muscle for this turf battle or something our vic was helping with? Let me think about it then let's go over everything again Monday. Have a nice day off."

JD: "Okay, see ya at 8 on Monday."

Chapter 10:

JD showed up on time; Harvey was already dressed in spite of the nurses' and then the doctor's protestations. He agreed to be careful and not do anything strenuous for the next couple days, and come back tonight to have the bandages changed. The doctor also gave him a large bottle of painkillers, which Harvey very much appreciated.

Walking with a cane, Harvey got into JD's car, which elicited a cry of pain from him when he hit the seat. Luckily the puncture wounds were more on his side than directly on the part touching the seat.

"Let's go to the office."

JD hit the gas and accelerated toward the station.

"How'd it go with the hatcheck girl?"

JD: "Really well. We had a late dinner and drinks. Her name is Francis, and she's been at the club only about three months. She doesn't know much about the goings on there. I tried not to get any info out of her at this point, but she may be a good source of info about the club's comings and goings."

"Is she going to be part of your job or your pleasure?"

JD: "I was thinking both. I think she is really nice."

"Just a word of warning. I've found that mixing personal relations with work to be very dangerous and frequently tragic. You may want to reconsider and separate the two."

JD: "I'm wearing long pants now, so I can figure these things out for myself."

"I know you can, but you haven't seen as much as I have and I'm just letting you know from experience. You may be different, but I'm sure they all said that in the beginning. One reason I haven't gotten up Vicki's skirt, as you so romantically put it, is for that reason, mixing work and play is not a smart thing to do."

JD: "Okay, duly noted."

They arrived at the station, and Harvey managed to make it to his desk. The Captain came out of his office with a pillow for Harvey to sit on.

"Where'd you get this, Patrick?"

Patrick: "I had hemorrhoids a year ago and kept it in my office just in case they popped out again."

"Wow thanks for that a wonderful image that I'll never get out of my head."

Patrick: "Hey, gift horse."

"You're right. Thanks for the pillow."

Patrick: "You're welcome. Now don't push your luck. Take it easy until you heal up or you're just going to end up back in the hospital, and this time you'll be stuck there."

"Got it."

JD went up to the blackboard and added the new info about the men from Chicago and the trouble in Bayberry.

"Put Sadie up there too. I think she may be important, though I'm not sure how."

JD: "Uhoh, I think Detective Halloway has been smitten."

"Don't be silly, though I think she is one of the prettiest women I have ever seen, and I've seen a lot."

JD: "Well, don't let your dick do the thinking here."

"Look who's talking. What about you and Francis?"

JD: "Totally different. She's not a gangster's moll."

"I think you're splitting hairs. ANYWAY, back to the board. I've got a friend in the FBI; they have a wire somewhere inside one of his establishments. I think it's in the Wildcat Club, but I'm not sure."

JD: "The FBI, now there's an organization I'd love to work with. J. Edgar is an American hero."

"American hero, my aching ass. That cross-dressing bigot is no hero. He's a self-promoter. He treats his agents like crap especially if they get in the way of his limelight. Plus I think he's too cozy with the mob."

JD: "Wow, what prompted that? Whadaya say about cross-dressing?"

"Let's say I have friends in the FBI, and they know things the public doesn't. Did you every wonder why his friend Clyde Tolson never leaves his side?"

JD: "Are ya saying he's a poof?"

"I'm not saying anything. I also know Eliot Ness, and he gave me some insight into your hero. But let's not get off track here. I'll check to see if they have anything."

JD: "You've got to tell me more about the FBI."

"Maybe someday over drinks, you're buying."

JD: "Okay with me."

JD went back to his desk and started making phone calls, while Harvey called his contact in the FBI. After about 30 minutes, JD took off saying he'd be back in an hour. Harvey tried to relax by taking several pain pills. He was in a lot of pain but didn't want it to get the better of him; he kept making calls and notes. He hated being immobilized, especially without a car.

JD called about 90 minutes later.

JD: "I got a little more info and I'm headed back. Want anything?"

"Yeah, get me a sandwich."

JD: "Will do."

JD arrived about 20 minutes later carrying two sandwich bags and promptly placed one on Harvey's desk.

"It's a little early for lunch but close enough, plus I'm hungry."

Both men take out their sandwiches and begin eating.

"Where the heck did you get this?"

JD: "The deli over on Franklin."

"No wonder it tastes funny. Why didn't you go by Cowen's on Washington?"

JD: "I know that's your favorite, but it was way out of my way, so I went to the one on Franklin. Quit bellyaching, you're lucky I called or you wouldn't have anything. Geez."

"Okay, whadaya find out?"

JD: "I talked to a few more people, and those heavy hitters from Chicago are bank men, so I don't think they're here for the drug war. Sal's getting some local muscle to settle that problem. It looks like Victor may have been setting up a bank job for Sal."

"Sounds like it. It jives with what I got from the FBI. They think Sal's gearing up for a big job. They also told me from their wiretap that Sal did not order the murder of Victor. He was as surprised as anyone, plus he wasn't done with his services. They seemed to know about our conversation with him, which points to their tap being in the Wildcat Club. They didn't have any info on the robbery target. I wonder if Sal's drug problems will delay whatever job he's planning. We need more time to figure out what's going on. One other thing, my contact seemed to be holding something back. It's like there's something going on besides just a bank robbery, but he denied it, which led me to think otherwise."

Harvey sat there for while deep in thought while JD finished off his sandwich. "We need to go down to the southwest and talk to some of the Negro cops."

JD: "Izit safe for us to go down there?"

"If you're afraid, you can stay here and play with your dollies."

JD: "Geez, Harv, I was just asking."

Harvey made it to JD's car and slid into the front seat of the bright red auto.

"I have to admit I like your car."

JD: "Yeah, it's a Pontiac Chieftain. I got it used but for a good price. It has an 8-cylinder engine that puts out about 118 horsepower; I can go from zero to 60 mph in just 15 seconds."

"Not bad. I definitely want your help buying a new car. The Bel Air looks really good."

JD: "It's considered a pretty nice car. I think I know where you can get a good deal, maybe this next weekend."

"We'll see how the week goes."

They drove the rest of the way mostly in silence with Harvey giving directions to JD as they got into the part of town JD was not familiar with.

JD: "I really don't like being down here. I don't trust these people."

"Do you even know any colored people? Why do you have such a bad opinion of them?"

JD: "My dad hated them. He was from Alabama before he moved up here, and he used to talk about how violent and lazy they were."

"That seems to be contradiction, so they are 'violently lazy?'"

JD: "Don't twist my words, you know what I mean."

"No, I don't. Most of the Negros I've met are just like you and me except maybe poorer. They have the same dreams and aspirations as we do. Again, do you know any personally?"

JD: "Well, I know Debbie."

"Have you ever gone down to her desk and talked to her to see what she's like?"

JD: "No. I had no reason to."

"Well maybe you should. You'll find out she's a very nice person. I like her."

JD: "What about the high crime rate in Africa? Doesn't that indicate something about them?"

"Yeah, it indicates they're poor. Poor districts in urban areas have more crime, whether white or colored. The city police just don't care what goes on there."

JD: "My dad was a good man; a good father. I can't believe he would be so wrong."

"He probably was a good man in most other ways, but you're old enough to think for yourself. Maybe it's time you expanded your horizons. That's how these prejudices perpetuate from parent to child. Anyway, you're going to meet more colored people today. Try to keep an open mind. The station is just up here on the right."

A sign said 'Police Station 25" above the door of the building they pulled up to. It was a brick building that looked like it served as some type of meeting hall during the last century and hadn't been much improved over the years. JD walked and Harvey hobbled up the steps to the double front doors . Upon entering they were confronted by a colored officer with three strips on each arm seated behind a large desk.

"Hello, Sergeant Franklin, we're here to see Detective Jerome Madison. He's expecting us."

Franklin: "Hi, Harvey, go on back."

They passed through another door just to the right of desk into a hallway. JD looked at the pealing paint of the walls and the cracks in the linoleum floor.

JD: "This place is falling apart."

"The police management in this area doesn't get much in the way of infrastructure money. They're hind tit when it comes to funding."

They entered the second door on the right and passed into a squad room similar to theirs but in much worse condition. A Negro officer got up from his desk and walked forward with his hand outstretched toward Harvey."

Madison: "Harv, it's a rare treat to see you here on a weekday. What the hell happened to you?" They shake hands, Jerome Madison: negro male, 5 feet 9 inches, 175 pounds, late forties, black hair, brown eyes, fit build, and narrow face with Negroid features.

"It's good to see you Jerome. I want you to meet my partner, Jack Delany. We all call him JD. Someone tried to kill me with a grenade and came too damn close."

Madison: "Don't they know you're too irascible to kill? Nice to meet you, son. Harvey has said some nice things about you."

JD: "He has?"

"I was lying. Jerome, we came down here to get some insight into a possible drug war brewing."

Jerome sat down at his desk, and JD and Harvey pulled up chairs to sit across from him.

Madison: "I thought you were all tied up in the murder last week. Why you interested this turf war?"

"My murder investigation led me to Salmonella. The vic worked for him and was a specialist in explosives. We think Sal is up to something big but wanted to find out if this drug problem was going to delay his plans."

Madison: "I would think so." He pulled out a file folder and handed it to Harvey. "I've been collecting bits and pieces from my sources. This is not going to be pretty. Sal has had to rely on the local colored gang, run by Adolphus Morgan, to distribute his heroin since whites, especially ones selling drugs, would not be very welcome around here. It must have dawned on the Morgan Gang that Sal needs them more than they need him. They contacted another colored gang in Chicago to become their supplier. This Chicago gang also sent down six well-armed men to make sure Sal doesn't do anything rash."

JD: "What do you think's gonna to happen?"

Madison: "Oh, I don't think Sal is going to take this lightly. He can't afford to lose the money he makes off the drugs here, not counting his numbers and prostitution rackets. He'll be seen as weak if he lets this happen. He'll fight. That's what I meant when I said things are going to get nasty unless one side backs down."

"Where's that put you guys?"

Madison: "Well, I liked to just hide under my desk and let them kill each other, but I know a lot of civilians are going to get caught in the cross fire. We have men staked out at the most likely places to get hit, so we can move on them as soon as we can. We'll try to arrest both sides. But to be honest, we're out gunned. They'll have tommy guns and maybe even BARs. We'll have our revolvers and shotguns."

"Can't you get some automatic weapons from the armory? At least as loaners?"

Madison: "We asked and were told the paperwork's been put in."

"You mean they told you to pound sand."

Madison: "Exactly, we'll do the best we can with what we've got."

"I'll try to help as much as I can."

Madison: "Thanks, I'll keep you informed. Hey, JD, did you know your partner here comes down here a couple weekends a month to help us on some of our cases. We're very short handed, and the cases back up. Without his help, we'd be buried by casework. He's been a tremendous help."

JD: "I'd heard."

"Well, I don't know how much help I've been, but I enjoy working with Jerome here and his team. Jerome served during the War in the same theater as I did. He was in the 761st tank battalion. Regrettably we never met until a few years ago."

JD: "A regular couple of War heroes."

"You're damn right. Jerome, thanks for the update. I'll keep you posted on my case and you let me know what you need."

Madison: "I will. You take care of yourself."

After they all shook hands, JD and Harvey headed for the car. Once back on the road, Harvey said, "Well was he violently lazy? You know he has a scar on his leg the side of a quarter where a piece of shrapnel almost took his leg off."

JD: "How did ya come to see that?"

"Oh we were comparing war wounds. I think it was a tie. Whadaya think of him?"

JD: "He seemed nice enough."

"That's it. He's out there risking his life for his people, and that's all you got."

JD: "Whadaya want me to say? He's a wonderful human being? He may be, but I have a lifetime of upbringing that says he's inferior, and that's not going to change by meeting one coon. Sorry."

"You should be. I was hoping you'd see past it." They rode in silence for the rest of the trip back to the station.

Chapter 11:

The next morning, Harvey was seated at his desk and staring up at the blackboard, rubbing his chin; JD had just walked into the squad room and had moved up next to Harvey.

"I think we may have a dead shark here."

JD: "What the hell does that mean?"

"Sharks have to keep moving forward to breath or they die, at least that's what I've heard. Anyway, I don't see any forward movement on this case."

JD: "Speaking of dead sharks, what did the hospital say after I dropped ya off there last night?"

"They said I should make out my will right away."

JD: "What?"

"I'm kidding, they said all the wounds are healing nicely and then changed the dressings. Can we get off my ass and back onto the case?" Harvey chuckled at his pun. "Anyway, I have to think about where we go from here. Any suggestions?"

JD: "Well, let's see what we know and don't know. We don't know who killed Victor, since Sal is out, or why? We know that Sal is planning a move against Bayberry and is going to hit a bank or repository somewhere. That's about it."

"Not much." Harvey's phone rang, and he answered it immediately. "Hello, Detective Halloway...Oh, hello, Debbie...That's interesting. Send me up the report."

JD: "Whad she have to report?"

"I'd asked Debbie to check into Sadie. She said that Sadie had been arrested in Chicago for solicitation, but it was more of a harassment charge than actual prostitution, since she was a known associate of several mop members. She came down here about three years ago and has been part of Sal's organization since then. Debbie says she is known for being pretty smart and not just a pretty face. Aside from that, there's not much on her."

JD: "Maybe you should check her out, you know, pump her for info." JD thrust his hips forward simulating sex and laughed.

"You know you're one class act. You trying to goad me? Heck, I may take you up on that."

JD: "That would be interesting. Even with this, what's the next move?"

"Well, if Sal didn't kill our vic, then there's another player in the game that we know nothing about. We need to check into Victor's movements and find out who saw him last and who he associated with. It's what we should be doing anyway. I really need a car to get around."

JD: "Listen, I have an uncle that can give you a good deal on a new car. He has a Chevrolet dealership. Why don't we go down there today and see if we can get you one?"

"Actually, that sounds pretty good. I hate shopping for a car. It's probably why I stayed with my Champion so long. I read through that Motor Trend magazine you gave me in the hospital, and I really liked the Bel Air. You realize that if your uncle screws me, I'll make your life hell."

JD: "Don't worry, he says I'm his favorite nephew, though he probably says that to all his nephews."

JD drove up with Harvey into the Delany's auto dealership, and a man in his fifties approached them with a broad smile.

Larry: "I thought that was your car. Good to see you Jack." He vigorously shook JD's hand.

JD: "Uncle Larry, this is my partner, Detective Harvey Halloway." Larry then shook Harvey's hand in a similar manner.

Larry: "Glad to meet you. Jack's said a lot of nice things about you."

JD: "Larry, Harvey is interested in a new car, he especially like the new Bel Air."

"Yes, I was looking at the specs on the car, and it looks pretty good if I can get one for a good price."

Larry: "Don't worry about that. For my nephew's friend, I'll give you a great price."

They walked over to a row of cars, and Larry started going through the various attributes of each. When he came to a pale blue four door with a white top, Larry said, "This is a nice one: a four-door hard-top with a V8, 180 bhp, Powerglide 2-speed automatic transmission, and best of all, air conditioning. This baby will do 0 to 60 in 13 seconds. This one's my favorite."

"How much?"

Larry: "For you, $2500 with registration and tags."

"Does it have seat belts?"

Larry: "No they're extra."

"That's okay, I'll take. How quickly can you get the tags and registration?"

Larry: "Wow, that was fast. I can give you temporary tags and registration now. I'll have your permanent ones by the weekend. Do you have a trade in?"

"Not really." JD laughed.

Larry: "What about financing?"

"I'll write you a check."

Larry: "Okay, that's unusual, but I think I can trust a police officer and friend of my nephew. Let's go into my office and settle the deal while my men get your car ready."

Forty-five minutes later, Harvey was driving off the lot in his new Bel Air.

Chapter 12:

Back at the station, both men were staring at the board again.

"Okay, let's get some copies of that photo of Sadie and Victor and start canvassing the area where Victor was killed. I want to give some of the patrol officers in the area the photo as well to find out if either of them may have frequented businesses there. Maybe we'll get lucky."

For the next few days, Harvey and JD worked their way up and down the street of the murder and then onto adjacent streets. The patrol officers checked local groceries, laundries, dry cleaners, restaurants, etc. to see if they could get more info on Victor's actions.

On Friday morning, one of these patrol officers came into the squad room and walked up to Harvey seated at his desk.

Officer: "I found something that may be of interest to you."

"Let's hear it." JD looked up from his desk and listened.

Officer: "There's this Bistro." He flipped trough his notepad until he found the page. "It's called the Parisian Bistro, it's about a mile from the murder site on Clayburne. The bartender, a John Voullat, and a waitress, named Jenny Carver, said they recognized the couple and said they would come in a couple nights a week. They always took a table in the back where it's dark. The waitress said they were very affectionate. She actually said they were 'kissy faced.' I thought this would be of interest."

"You're right it is. They're definitely sure it was Sadie?"

Officer: "She seemed pretty positive, it was her. An attractive woman like that gets noticed."

"Thank you, officer. You've been a big help. Oh, do you know when the waitress starts work?"

Officer: "She starts work at 5.

"Thanks again."

The officer grinned widely and left.

"Well, well, well. A gangster's moll and an employee playing kissy face. We now have a motive regardless of what the FBI says. Sal is back on the possible perps list."

JD: "Sounds like we need to talk to Sadie."

"And we need to do it here. Let's go down to the Bistro and talk to these people ourselves."

They spent the rest of the day going over the info that they had gotten from the row houses in the victim's neighborhood. Victor's close neighbors all said that he was a wonderful and caring person and that he was the person to go to if someone needed anything fixed. He seemed to be able to fix anything from appliances to plumbing. A few also mentioned seeing the dark haired woman with him late at night. In total, the info they collected did not add a lot to the picture except to paint a picture of the victim as a nice guy that keep his personal life secret.

Around 4:30, they got ready to go down to the Bistro. JD drove only because Harvey was still sore from his wounds. They pulled up to a building that had Parisian Bistro in neon lights and a small neon Eiffel Tower. The front was a large picture window providing a view of two tables with patrons seated at it. The front door was glass with a wood frame. Both men entered the restaurant and were announced by a bell above the door. A young man nicely dressed approached them.

Man: "Table for two? There's about half an hour wait."

Both men pulled out their badges and showed them to the man.

"We're with the police, and we want to talk to a Ms. Carver."

Man: "Okay, I'll get her."

They waited by the door. The restaurant had about twenty tables and a long bar along the right wall. There were several pictures of Paris on the walls, but otherwise there was not much that was distinctive about it.

JD: "I should take Francis here. It seems nice."

"Boy, you just can't separate work and play, can you?"

JD: "I guess not."

A young attractive blonde approached them, Jenny Carver: white female, 5 feet 5 inches, 125 pounds, mid-twenties, 32B-25-36, blonde hair, blue eyes, and attractive with petite features.

Jenny: "Hello, officers, I'm Jenny Carver. How can I help you?"

"I'm Detective Halloway and this is Detective Delany. You told one of our officers that you recognized these two people. Is that correct?"

Harvey showed her the photo of Sadie and Victor.

Jenny: "Yes, they came in regularly. They'd sit back there in the corner." She pointed. "They seemed very attached."

"Actually you said they were "kissy face?"

Jenny: "Yeah, that's my boyfriend's way of saying they were affectionate."

"When's the last time they were in here?"

Jenny: "Actually the night he was killed. I was shocked to see his picture in the newspaper the next day."

"Anything about that night stand out?"

Jenny: "Well, I'm not supposed to eavesdrop, but they seemed to be having a heated discussion. The woman kept saying something, and the man kept shaking his head."

"Did you get any of the conversation?"

Jenny: "Well, she said something like 'You can't do that. You'll put me at risk' and he said 'I can't go on like this.' That's about all I picked up."

"Actually that does help. I appreciate your cooperation. Here's my station's number if you think of anything more." He handed her a card.

"JD, why don't you question the bartender? I'll wait for you in the car. My side's bothering me a little today."

JD: "Sure thing, Harv."

Harvey turned and walked out the front door. He pulled out a cigarette and his zippo from the War and started to light it. In his peripheral vision, he saw a large black car pull out from the curb and start down the street toward him. Alarms bells started going off in his head, and he reflexively started looking for cover. Even before the car rolled to a stop, two men with Thompson machine guns were exiting the car, firing at him. As the bullets slammed into the large store picture window and door frame, scattering glass and wood in all direction, Harvey crotched down and did a roll that put him behind the car parked directly in front of the Bistro. The men corrected their aim and shot into the car, but Harvey had put himself at the front part of the car, so the engine block stopped the 45 caliber rounds. The shooting stopped.

Gunman: "You go around that end."

Harvey knew they were going to circle around both ends of the car and kill him. He had his 38 special out and planned to kill at least one of them, before dying. Just as he saw the hat of the gunman coming around the front, another 38 special started barking from the door. It was JD firing at the gunman. Both gunmen simultaneously directed their fire toward the door and began splintering the doorframe to kindling.

Harvey knew this was his chance, so he rose up above the hood and pointed his revolver. One of the gunmen immediately saw him, and the two men locked eyes for a half second. They were only about six feet apart. The gunman tried to bring his machine gun to bear on Harvey, but Harvey fired a bullet that hit him just below the hat brim. He flew backward and hit the pavement hard. Harvey turned to face the back end of the car, but no one was there. JD was firing again and the surviving gunman was backing away firing alternately at the car and the door. When he got back to the car, he jumped in, and it sped away, laying ten feet of rubber on the pavement.

JD fired a few shoots at the fleeing car and then ran to Harvey.

JD: "Are you okay?"

"I'm not hit, but I'm far from okay." Harvey had slid back down into a seated position on the sidewalk and was visibly shaking. "Who the fuck is trying to kill me?"

JD: "You're bleeding."

"Its only cuts from the glass. You're bleeding too."

JD: "Same for me, just glass and wood splinters. A couple patrons got hit pretty bad. I saw you got one of the gunmen. I'll check him."

"I'm sure he's dead." JD left for just a few minutes.

JD: "Yeah, you got him right in the forehead. The back of his head's gone."

"It was point blank range. I couldn't miss. Of course, neither could he if he'd moved faster. I think I just want to sit hear for a while. Go inside and check on the people and make sure they've called an ambulance and the police."

JD took off back inside. Harvey just sat there trying to get his nerves under control. "I'm too damn old for this."

Hours later back at the squad room, JD and Harvey were sitting at their respective desks. Each man had several small band-aids on their faces.

JD: "Harvey, you don't look too good."

"Well I don't feel too good. This has got to stop. Sooner or later they're going to get me, whoever 'they' are. What were the casualties?"

JD: "Three dead in the restaurant including Jenny, and four wounded, none too seriously. Mostly those by the window."

"Three dead to get me. You know they were specifically after me. They didn't wait for you to come out; they moved the minute I showed. They were waiting for me. How'd they know I'd be there? One possible source is a leak in the squad room, which isn't too hard to imagine. Maybe they knew we would be coming to that Bistro and had it staked out. I don't know which, but my gut says the later."

JD: "Somebody wants you out bad. This was risky."

"What about the gunman I killed?"

JD: "They took him to the morgue. They'll do the autopsy and get fingerprints tomorrow. Maybe we should go home and pick this up tomorrow."

"I need to do one thing first." Harvey got up and went to the board, where he drew a line connecting Victor and Sadie. Now it was a triangle connecting Sal, Sadie, and Victor. "At least it's getting more interesting, and I know our next move, Sadie."

Chapter 13:

Next morning, Sadie sat at the table in the interrogation room looking every inch gorgeous. She had on a short, low-cut bright blue dress that revealed a lot of her breasts and most of legs. Her long dark-red hair flowed down to her white shoulders. Her bright red lipstick, pale white skin, and green eyes were a beautiful symphony of contrast and color. Harvey sat directly across from her with several file folders in front of him. JD was behind him to the right, leaning against the corner wall.

"Thank you for coming down here today, Miss Mitchell."

Sadie: "I wouldn't miss it. And please call me Sadie, Detective."

"Okay, Sadie. We happen to know that you and Victor Palenski were seeing each other socially and may have even had an intimate relationship. Is this true?"

Sadie: "Harvey, are you a voyeur? How much detail do you want?"

"Actually just a yes or no to both questions."

Sadie: "Yes and yes."

"Whad did Sal think of this relationship?"

Sadie: "I don't know. I never asked him."

"Aren't you his girlfriend?"

Sadie: "Occasionally, but not right now. He does have a wife and kids you know."

"I'm aware of that, though I think Sal forgets sometimes. What were you and Victor arguing about at the Bistro the night he was killed?"

Sadie: "Just a lover's spat."

"You're going to have to be more specific than that. We have parts of the conversation."

Sadie: "I thought that nosey waitress was listening. I hear she'll not be listening to anyone's conversations anymore."

"You didn't answer the question."

Sadie: "Victor wanted to tell Sal about our relationship and I didn't. That's all there was to it." She reached across the table and put her hand on Harvey's. "You know, I'm available again and very much in need of consoling."

"You seem to get over boyfriends rather quickly. I'm not sure I would want to become part of that group, especially in light of what happened to Victor. Do you think that Sal killed Victor?"

Sadie: "Oh heavens, no. Sal wouldn't have cared about me and Victor, in spite of what Victor thought. Anyway, Sal would have needed a better reason to kill Victor than going out with this gal."

"Maybe he did."

Sadie: "I don't think so. You guys are barking up the wrong tree. You might want to check Sal's enemies. The Jewish mob's been pushing him hard, and the Africans are trying to take away his drug business. They're more likely suspects."

"For some reason, I don't feel inclined to take your advice."

Sadie: "Just trying to help. Are we done here?"

"For now you can go, but I'm sure we will want to talk to you again."

Sadie: "Why don't you and your friend there come by the Wildcat some night. I'd like to show you some things I'm sure you would enjoy."

"I doubt that. Here's the station's card. Call me if you come up with something more."

Sadie took the card and grabbed the pen to write something on the back of it. "I've already got your number, here's mine. Call me; we can talk more at my place."

"One more question, what's that perfume? I like it."

Sadie: "It's my favorite, Lavender Mist. See we do have things in common. Bye lover."

"Bye Sadie. Do you need a ride anywhere?"

Sadie: "Oh, that's tempting, sweetie, but I actually have my car." With that she walked out of the room and straight out of the station, followed by stares from all the men she passed.

JD: "Wow, did the temperature go up in here?"

"I know what you mean. I want to stay here and look at these files. I'll be back at my desk in a few minutes." Harvey was embarrassed because he had an erection and didn't want to get up from the table.

Harvey was back at his desk 15 minutes later. The autopsy report on the gunman was laying on it. He grabbed it and glanced through the five pages.

"Looks like he was a healthy male that died from having half his brains blown out the back of his head. He had a lot of military tattoos, which should help Debbie get an ID on him. I thought he was military, and I'd bet the other was too. They moved like men used to combat. By the way, I didn't thank you for saving my life."

JD: "How'd ya figure that?"

"If you didn't draw their fire they would have come around the car and killed me."

JD: "Funny, I didn't do it to draw their fire; I did it to kill them before they killed us."

"Same thing. Anyway, thanks. I owe you one."

JD: "If you say so. Maybe we should up our firepower."

"Good idea. Come over here. I got this from a friend this morning." Harvey pulled a rectangular case from under his desk and laid it on top. He opened it and inside was a Thompson submachine gun with about six clips. "This is what I carried during the war. If we get enough warning next time, things are going to be different."

JD: "Very nice. Are we allowed to use these?"

"If my life is at risk, I'm willing to risk a reprimand. It's better than being dead. I want you to check out a shotgun and carry it with you wherever we go from now on. I'll have this on the seat next to me when we go out. I'm not getting caught like that again."

JD: "Let's hope there's not a next time."

"What I don't understand is that Sal is probably the only person to have enough muscle to pull off that attempt, but I can't fathom what his motive would be. This is not only going to bring the police down on him, but the press and maybe even the G-men. Everyone will be calling for his head."

JD: "You didn't think he pulled the first attempt on your life."

"I still have my doubts. Maybe someone is trying to draw our attention away from them and onto Sal, as a distraction? If Sal's not behind it, then he must be really curious as to who is."

JD: "You asked me to see if there were any explosives men in the area to replace Victor? When I checked into the three men that the Chicago mob sent down, one of them, a Tony Gambini, is an expert. We may want to pull him and his fellow travelers in and sweat them a little. They're staying at a fancy motel near Sal's car lot."

"Good idea, send some police down there to pick them up. We can grill them until Sal's lawyer shows up."

Patrick came out of his office and walked up to Harvey. "Harvey, I'm putting the murder of the three patrons at the Bistro on your plate. Do you want another detective on the case?"

"No, they were innocent bystanders, so I think when we break Victor's murder we'll have our killers of the patrons."

Dawly: "Okay, but I'm putting a few more uniformed officers at your disposal."

"Good, let me know who they are. I want to pick up a trio of Chicago mobsters to see why they're in town."

Dawly: "I'll get you a list right now."

JD set the plan in motion to pick up the three men, and Harvey checked with his contact in the FBI.

Chapter 14:

Approximately three hours later, the officers brought in the three men, and Harvey had them sent to separate rooms. Harvey took the explosives expert, JD took one of the other men, and another detective took the last.

"Well if it isn't Tony Gambini." Anthony Gambini: white male, 6 feet 1 inch, 230 pounds, early thirties, black hair, grey eyes, muscular build, and rough features. "Didn't we meet at an explosives conference in Chicago?"

Toni: "Very funny, copper. Whadaya want?"

"I want to know why you're in town? We already know that Sal sent for you."

Toni: "Just that, I'm visiting my old friend Sal Minnelli."

"Gosh, that's sweet. Maybe you two can take in a show."

Toni: "Another smart mouthed cop. Just what I need."

"You wouldn't be here, say, to break into a bank or anything like that, would you?"

Toni: "Of course not. I'm an honest businessman."

"Hah, now who's being funny. Listen, we know you're here to help Sal with a bank job, and, if there are any robberies in town, we're coming to you. Understand?"

Toni: "Yeah, you come see me."

"What are you're other two companions here for?"

Toni: "Same as me, to visit an old friend."

"Maybe they're backup for you, like a reserve."

Toni chuckles at this. "Yeah a 'reserve.' Ha."

There was a knock at the door and an officer stuck his head in to whisper something to Harvey. "Looks like your lawyer's here. You can go for now, but we're keeping our eye on you and your two friends."

Toni got up and walked to the door. "You do that, copper."

After all three had been released, JD and Harvey were seated back at their desks.

JD: "Well that was a waste of time. I got nothing, and Fred got butkus."

"Same for me, though he got a kick out of the word 'reserve.' I'm not sure why. His reaction seemed out of place."

JD: "Maybe it was some kinda inside joke."

"That's what I'm thinking, but what?"

JD: "There's an animal reserve south of the city, along the coast, but I can't see why that would be of interest. Unless they're planning a meeting?"

"I don't think that's it. Wait a minute. There's a Federal Reserve Bank in the city where they store bullion to back overseas transactions. You think that may be it?"

JD: "I think you're grasping at straws. That's really weak."

"Okay, I know, but I'm going to check it out."

JD: "Fill me in when I get back. I'm going out to talk with my contacts; I'll be back in about two hours. I'll bring you lunch."

"Get it from the Cowen's deli, okay."

JD: "If it's not out of the way."

About three hours, later JD traipsed in sweating profusely.

JD: "It's hot as a motherfu...uh, fudger out there."

"Where's my sandwich?"

JD: "Hello, to you too. Here." He throws the bag to Harvey. "And before you ask, yes, I went to Cowen's. I was nearby."

"Thank you very much. I'm in your debt."

JD: "Speaking of which, next time you buy."

"Okay, okay. I did find out some interesting things from my friend at the FBI. He was a lot more forthcoming, probably because of the two attempts on my life. When I asked, he confirmed that the bug on Sal was in the Wildcat Club. He said that Sal makes a point of not talking serious business there, plus the background noise makes it hard to get much. But he did mention that Sal's going bananas trying to figure out who's trying too kill me. He's really pissed about it and has men looking into it. I guess Sal's off the perps list, unless of course he knows about the wire and maybe is just saying that to throw us off the trail. The other thing was that the FBI has managed to get a tap on a phone in a place Sal's gang uses for R&R. It's a small club with a bar, pool tables, and some private rooms. The men can play cards or pool and be with the prostitutes in the back rooms while waiting for their next job. He said they had to do get the tap on the sly since so many of the judges are on Sal's payroll. He'll let us know if he gets anything pertinent."

JD: "Every little bit helps. I wasn't aware of the corrupt judges."

"I also asked about the Federal Reserve Bank on North Central. He said it currently has $10 million in bullion in it. I told him I was just worried about the security, and he said that it has 6 military guards and an electric fence around it. The vault door is the newest design and about a foot thick of high quality alloy. Plus he said that the walls are two feet thick concrete with armor plating on the inside and that someone could run a Mac truck into it at 60 miles per hour without even denting it."

JD: "Did you say those shaped charges were used during the war to penetrate armor?"

"Yes, I did. Still think I'm grasping for that straw?"

JD: "I'm not convinced, but it's worth looking into. How would you pull it off?"

"Well, this bank is pretty isolated with no buildings nearby. That was done for security reasons; they can see anyone coming. I would kill the guards, or better yet gas them, so they don't set off an alarm. Then blow a hole in the electric fence with conventional explosives. Then I would use the shaped charges to blow a doorway directly into the vault from the outside and back a truck right up to the opening. With four or five men inside the vault, I'd throw as much gold into the truck as I could in five minutes and then drive the truck to some close warehouse to distribute the gold to smaller vehicles. That's it."

JD: "Sounds feasible. How much would that weigh?"

"At $32 and ounce, about ten tons."

JD: "That's a lot to carry. How do we find out if that's Sal's target?"

"I don't know yet."

Harvey went silent, and JD looked at him. Harvey's eyes had a far away stare in them that JD knew meant that Harvey was deep in thought, probably working out how to confirm the Fed reserve was the target. JD went back to organizing his notes and eating his sandwich.

Chapter 15:

Harvey was lying on the couch in his apartment reading a book and just about asleep when there was a knock on the door. He quickly jumped up and went to the door after picking up his revolver. He stood just to the right of the door and said "Who is it?" and reached over to place his left hand over the peephole.

Sadie: "It's me, Sadie."

Harvey then moved in front of the door and looked through the peep to confirm it was Sadie and just Sadie. He opened the door; Sadie pushed right past him into his apartment.

Looking around, Sadie said, "It's about what I expected."

"Are you now the interior decorator police?"

Sadie: "If I was you'd be under arrest."

"Why are you here, Sadie." Harvey walked into the kitchen that was right off the hallway leading to the door."

Sadie: "I saw that look in your eyes during the interrogation. You wanted me."

"I've got a big surprise for you. Any man that looks at you is going to have that look in their eyes."

Sadie: "Yeah, but I don't want them. I want you. You make me wet." Harvey was leaning against the counter, and Sadie moved up against him. He could smell the lavender perfume. She reached down to his crouch and began rubbing it. "Wow, feels like you want me as well and you're ready to go."

"Sadie, there is a big difference between desiring someone and acting on that desire. If I do as you and every part of my being is suggesting, I would compromise my position on the case and have to be taken off. I don't want that."

Sadie: "It's very clear to me what you want." She began to undo his zipper.

Harvey grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back. "Sadie, get out."

Sadie: "What a party pooper. You sure you want me to go?"

"Actually that's a dumb question, but I think you should leave."

Sadie: "I guess I'll go, but you have my number." She headed for the door but turned toward him just before leaving. "Bye, sweetie."

"Sadie, if you're still standing when all this is over, I'll give you a call."

Sadie: "By the time this is over, lover, I'll have moved on. You should strike while the iron is hot."

Harvey closed the door and stood there for a good 10 minutes before he went to take a very cold shower.

Chapter 16:

The next couple days JD and Harvey spent following up leads and pulling in members of Sal's organization to pump them for information, but nothing was panning out. A certain amount of frustration was settling in on the detectives as the case began to stagnate. The weekend came, and Harvey spent all day Saturday with Jerome in Bayberry running down leads on a possible drug war. Sunday he just relaxed by drinking and reading books. He was suffering from bad headaches that came and went depending on his stress levels. They were related to the head wound he'd gotten in France. All he could do was take a lot of aspirin and down them with whiskey. He kept thinking of Sadie; she had gotten under his skin.

Come Monday morning, Harvey was at his desk when JD walked in carrying a cup of coffee.

"I got the report on the gunman I killed. Debbie says that he is, or was, an ex-marine, a Korean War veteran. His name was Bob Halleck. He'd been out of the service about two years and had worked odd jobs around town until he began moving up into small-time rackets like B&E. No arrests though, only suspicions. Then about four months ago he dropped off the radar and didn't reappear until he jumped out of that car with a Thompson. Debbie also said that she couldn't find any connection to Salmonella's gang. I'm not sure how much this helps, except to support our supposition that Sal's not the one behind the attempts on my life."

JD: "I agree, not much. Remember what you said about a dead shark."

"Debbie got us an address on the dead guy, but it may not be up to date. It was under a different name; someone set him up with a new identity. We need to go to his place now and check it out. I'm driving."

JD: "Good, let's try out that new air conditioning."

They arrive at Halleck's address located in a residential area called Haverford about 3 miles northeast of the city center. It consisted of single-family homes similar to the ones that made up Levittown, NY, a mass-produced suburb. The house was in good condition with a small lawn in front and back and a driveway. Harvey pulled into Halleck's driveway.

JD: "This is a weird hideout for a criminal. Was he married to Betty Crocker?"

"The report didn't say anything about a family. Let's check it out. Take the shotgun."

JD grabbed the shotgun from the back seat and followed Harvey to the door. Harvey passed a small flowerbed with flowers that were beginning to wilt and stepped onto the stoop at front of the door. The house was a small two story with attached garage, all painted pale green. He pounded on the door and moved slightly to the right behind the doorframe. Also just in case, he had JD stand back and to the side. He shouted, "Police, open up."

He repeated the pounding and shout, but still no response. He tried the door and it was unlocked. He drew his revolver and entered with the gun leading the way. The house was totally empty; the furniture had been removed. There were sheets of paper and trash on the floor. They checked the entire house but everything had been taken out.

"We'll call the lab and have them dust this place for prints, we may get lucky, though I doubt it. This group is very professional."

JD bent down and looked at some of the paper on the floor. "Nothing here, just blank pages."

"I wonder if they took the trash out." Harvey went to the back of the house and found a large trashcan, but it was empty. "I guess they did...what's this." There was a small piece of paper stuck to the inside of the trashcan lid. "Look at this. It's a receipt of some kind." He pried it loose so it dropped into his handkerchief. "It's water damaged, but our boys in the lab can probably read it. Let's canvas the neighbors, and I'll call the station from one of their phones."

JD and Harvey split up and started talking to the neighbors. Harvey was allowed to use the phone at the first neighbor's house. By the time they were done canvassing the street, the lab staff from the station had arrived, and Harvey instructed them on what he needed from the house. He also gave them the receipt to check for prints and determine its origin. The two detectives then headed back to the station to compare notes.

Back at their desks, JD said, "You want to go first?"

"No, you first."

JD: "Several of the neighbors confirmed that there were two men living in the house. They were both white males about the same age and build. The only thing they noted was that one was blond and the other dark haired. So we're looking for the blond."

"That's essentially what I got. Apparently they didn't have any visitors, at least that anyone saw. They had one car between them, a black Pontiac four door."

JD: "Let's hope that we get more info from the lab." JD rose from his desk and went to the board. "How do you want to add the new info?"

"Create a new heading called "Unknown" and put it under there. We don't know how it relates or to whom. Put my name down and draw a line from Victor and Unknown to me."

JD did as requested. "I think this diagram is looking very weird."

"I agree. I'm not sure how or if it relates to the Sal-Sadie-Victor triangle."

Chapter 17:

It wasn't until the next morning that the results from the lab came back. Harvey was having a cup of his fortified coffee, and across from him, JD was barely awake at his desk.

"What happened to you?"

JD: "I went out with Francis last night. She got off at 10 and then we went dancing. I was up until 1 in the morning. I need some sleep."

"Well, you're not going to get it here. The lab gave us their results. They lifted some fingerprints that belonged to our dead gunman and a few that didn't. Debbie says they belong to a Mr. Dean Maloney, another ex-marine, Korean War vet. He has a rap sheet for some minor crimes, and now we have a photo." Harvey tossed the folder with the rap sheet and mug shoot of Maloney onto JD's desk. JD opened it and looked at the photo. "Also, they retrieved the writing on that receipt I found. It's from a dry cleaning store over on Hamilton. I think we need to pay the place a visit. Let's go. Bring your shotgun."

They headed out in Harvey's car, and JD began to doze off in the front seat. Harvey left him alone for now. It would take at least 20 minutes to get to the store, and he felt sorry for his partner. Harvey really liked his car. He'd decided he had waited too long to replace his old one. The technology had come a long way in the last decade. The engine did knock a little and burned a little too much oil, but the car handled nicely and had good pickup. Plus, the Powerglide was easy to use, and the air conditioning was great.

Harvey pulled up to the curb in front of "Chow's Dry Cleaning and Laundry," and both men went inside. An oriental man was at the counter. They flashed their badges.

"Are you Mr. Chow, the proprietor?"

Mark: "Actually my name is Conway, Mark Conway. I just use Chow because it sounds oriental and everyone seems to think laundries should be Chinese. I'm third generation American. What can I do for you, officers?"

"I'm Detective Halloway and this is Detective Delany. We are looking for one of your customers." Harvey showed him the receipt.

Mark: "Yes, that's from here. I'm not sure who the customer was."

Harvey shows him the mug shot of Maloney. "He's about 6 feet with blond hair."

Mark: "Yeah, I know him. He still has a suit here. It's done, so he should be by any day to pick it up."

"That's good news. We want this man very badly. Mr. Conway, I want to station a couple men here to wait for him. They'll be discreet."

Mark: "Okay. Glad to cooperate."

"JD, stay here in the back behind the counter out of sight in case he shows up soon. I'm going to call in for two plain-clothes officers to relieve you. I want you to keep the shotgun handy; this guy is dangerous."

JD: "Will do." JD went behind the counter and took his coat off. He positioned himself so he could see the counter but was in the dark. He cradled the shotgun in his arm.

"I'll be back to pick you up."

Harvey went to the nearest call box and requested the officers. They showed up about 20 minutes later, and all three went to meet JD in front of the dry cleaners. He filled them in on what he wanted them to do and gave them the mug shot. He also made it clear that the man was dangerous, but that they needed to capture him alive. The two policemen positioned their unmarked car so that it had a clear view of the store's front. When he got back to the store, JD and he got into their car to drive back to the station.

JD: "Boy, I really hope we catch this guy. It's our first opportunity to find out who's trying to kill you."

Chapter 18:

Next morning, Harvey got a call at his desk. "Halloway here...Oh, no...where? We'll be right there." He hangs up and turns toward JD. "JD, get your hat. A cleaning maid just found a dead body in one of the bungalows at the Moonlight Hotel."

JD: "Isn't that where those three goons from Chicago are staying."

"Yep. This is not good. The situation between Sal and the Negro gang in Bayberry is a powder keg, and I think someone just threw in a match."

By the time they got to the motel, there were already two police cars there. The motel was new and fancy for their type. The bungalows were essentially small stand-alone houses with bedrooms and kitchens. The two detectives flashed their badges to the officers keeping people back from the scene of the crime. Inside the bungalow, a man and women, both nude, were laying on the bed covered with blood.

"What have you got so far?"

Officer: "They were shot, probably while asleep, three shots to the torso and one to the head. It's very professional. Nobody heard anything, the killer probably used a silencer. We think the girl is a local prostitute."

"This is Toni Gambini. Have you checked any of the other bungalows? There were two men traveling with him."

Officer: "No, we didn't think to." He called a couple other officers over and talked to them. "They're going to check the others. You think these other guys bought it also?"

"Yes, I do. JD, go with them." JD followed the two officers as they left the room. "Any ideas yet on who did it?"

Officer: "We just got here. The lab men haven't even arrived yet."

"Who reported it?"

Officer: "The cleaning lady knocked on the door several times then let herself in. This is what she found."

"Okay, get me your report as soon as you can, and let the lab know I want their results ASAP also. We need to move fast on this."

Officer: "I will."

JD walked back into the room. "Harv, you're right, the other two men are in the same condition, luckily no women. Someone took out all three in one night. Sal is not going to be happy, nor is the Chicago mob."

"This is going to blow up. I need to contact Jerome immediately. Sal's going to think the Negro gang did this. Let' get back; we need to find out the scuttlebutt on the street."

Harvey went back to his desk at the station, and JD hit the streets to check with his snitches. Both men spent the rest of the day trying to determine who had done the killings and how Sal was going to react. Harvey called Jerome.

"Those three men from the Chicago mob were killed last night."

Jerome: "Any motive or who did it?"

"Nothing so far, but my guess is that Sal is going to think the gang out your way did it."

Jerome: "We've been watching them pretty closely. I don't think they did it."

"My guts says you're right, but more importantly it's what Sal thinks."

Jerome: "You're right. I'll put everyone on high alert. If Sal blames the Morgan Gang then he's going to hit hard and very soon."

"Good luck."

Jerome: "Thanks, we'll need it."

After hanging up, Harvey started to think about a major drug war breaking out in Bayberry and what affect it would have on the city. He went to Captain Dawly's office.

"Captain, I think there is going to be a big bust-up in Bayberry because of these three goons from Chicago getting killed. The Chicago mob is going to want Sal to do something decisive in response, and Sal's probably going to hit the Morgan Gang down there. Is there any way we can help them down there?"

Patrick: "Not really. Once something starts we can help, but we can't send men down there waiting for something to happen. We haven't got the manpower; actually none of the stations have the manpower. Plus there's not going to be much desire to go down there and get shot protecting the colored people. I know that Bayberry has been your pet project, but I can't do anything officially. If you happen to find yourself in the area, you are authorized to provide assistance, and, of course, once you're at risk, you can always call for backup. But we really can't do anything in anticipation of trouble."

"I thought as much. I'm worried that Jerome and his men are going to get caught in a cross fire between two very well-armed gangs, so don't be too surprised if you hear that I'm down in Bayberry getting shot at."

Patrick: "I won't be. I know you well enough by now."

Harvey spent the rest of the day making phone calls and worrying about pretty much everything. JD hadn't returned by the time Harvey left for the day.

Chapter 19:

Next morning, JD was already at his desk when Harvey came in.

"What the heck? You beat me in to work. Must be a special occasion."

JD: "Not really, I just went to bed really early last night and then woke up early and couldn't sleep. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay. I was so stressed last night I didn't sleep well. I'm worrying about getting killed in my sleep and to Sal's response to his men getting killed; I also think Sadie was in there somewhere as well."

JD: "Well at least Sadie would be a pleasurable thought."

"Only if I like black widow spiders. She's really trouble; a perfect example of the agony and the ecstasy."

JD: "Maybe you should reconsider Vicki? Sounds like you could use the release, so to speak. Hah."

"You're right. If this case ever ends, and I'm not underground, I think I'll ask her out. Life is way too short to worry about the small things."

JD: "Boy do I agree."

"Did you find anything out yesterday?"

JD: "Yeah, I found out nobody knows nothing."

"That's a double negative."

JD: "Everyone was wanting the same answers I was. Who shot them and why? I don't think the coons did it because there would have been some word on the streets. It's like someone kicked over a bee hive."

"Well, keep your ear to the ground. We need to know when something breaks. I'll check with our men at the dry cleaners, though I'm sure they would have called if they had anything."

The two detectives spent the day going back through the case and making phone calls, but nothing new came out of it. JD headed off for home about 5 and Harvey lingered until about 6 when he left as well.

Harvey was at home trying to cook one of the new Swanson TV dinners, when the phone rang. It was his friend at the FBI.

FBI: "Sal's men got the call to hit the Morgan gang just a little while ago on the phone we've tapped in their R&R club; they must have been waiting for the order."

"Did you find out when?"

FBI: "Sal's men were on their way out when I got the word. Someone must have made a call just before he left."

"Great, thanks, I've got to get down there."

Harvey called Jerome, who was still at his desk, and told him what he'd just heard and that he was on his way. He grabbed his gun and badge and headed for his car. He drove as fast as he could in city traffic. He was glad he had gotten the new car because the old one would never have made it as fast. Even then, it was a good 25 minutes before he got close. He could hear the gunfire and see the smoke blocks away. He parked wherever he could and opened the trunk to take out the Thompson and the clips. He ran toward the sound of the firing.

He came upon a scene of carnage. As he came down the street, he could see the restaurant front had been blown out, covering the sidewalk with broken glass and pieces of wood. Also on the sidewalk were three bodies lying in large pools of crimson. Harvey assumed that Sal's gangsters had started out the attack by throwing explosives, probably grenades, through the restaurant's plate glass window. He ducked down behind a car and tried to further survey the scene without being spotted. Automatic weapons fire was coming from four men with Thompsons directly across the street from the eatery. Protected by a line of parked cars, they were firing into the restaurant. Joining them were another four men with shotguns and pistols firing in the same direction, though some were firing down the street in the direction opposite from Harvey. He looked down the street and could see at least three police cars slanted across the street behind which uniformed colored officers were firing at Sal's men with pistols and shotguns. The police's firepower was no match for the Thompsons, so the police ducked whenever the gangsters redirected their fire toward them. The police cars were all peppered with bullet holes; Harvey thought he could see some of the officers lying on the ground. Also some answering fire was coming out of the restaurant, mostly pistol fire and some shotguns, but the volume was minimal.

Harvey began to maneuver to his right using the parked autos for cover, so far Sal's men had not noticed him; their attention riveted on the cops and restaurant. When he was in a position to pour flanking fire into the gangsters, he stood up firing a long burst into the group of men. Two of the gangsters were hit and went down heavily. This threw the group into disorder, and some began to fire wildly in Harvey's direction, not seeing him hidden behind a car. Harvey stood up again and fired at the men, but this time they spotted him and redirected their fire. Dozens of bullets slammed into the car Harvey was using as a shield, sending sparks and broken glass in all directions. When the fire slackened slightly, he stood up again and fired. Sal's men were in a bad position, even though the fire from the restaurant and police was not heavy, they were flanked on two sides. Since their cover was no longer effective, the men began to take hits. One of the men tried to move forward, hiding behind cars, toward Harvey, but Harvey caught him in the open and cut him down. This unnerved the remaining men, and they decide to skedaddle. An opening between the buildings was directly behind their position, so they turned and fled down it with one of the Thompsons covering their retreat. Harvey ran forward hoping to fire at them as they fled down the passageway, but bullets began hitting all around him from both the police and Morgan Gang in the restaurant, so he ducked back behind a car. He sat there for a minute, as the firing finally stopped. He pulled out his badge and held it up above the car yelling, "Police! Stop firing at me, you idiots."

He slowly stuck his head up to see that the police were also standing up and people were coming out of the restaurant. Harvey ran over to the police cruisers looking for Jerome. He found him lying on the pavement with one of his men kneeling by him cradling his head.

"No, no, not you, Jerome."

Harvey could see he'd taken two shots to the chest and blood was oozing out from the wounds and from under his body. A trickle of blood also ran out of Jerome's mouth and down the side of his face. Harvey knelt down and held his hand. When Jerome tried to say something, blood spurted from his mouth. For the next few minutes, while people were moving around them, Harvey knelt there holding Jerome's hand. He kept saying, "Jerome, I'm so sorry." Harvey had been in this exact situation many times during the War, but he had almost forgotten how much it hurt. Then he felt Jerome's hand tighten on his and go limp. Jerome's breathing stopped, and Harvey slowly reached up to shut his eyes. "Goodbye, my friend."

With tears in his eyes, the colored officer kneeling over Jerome said, "He had tried to get them to stop, but it just got him killed."

About six feet away was another cop on the pavement with a fellow officer holding a handkerchief over his wound. Harvey heard sirens and turned to see more police cruisers and a couple ambulances had arrived. He stood up, walked over to the restaurant, and looked in. There were at least ten bodies lying on the floor. Some colored people were walking around in a daze, and some were trying to help the wounded. The three people down on the sidewalk were dead. Harvey was stunned by the destruction. This was a scene he hadn't seen since the War, and it made him sick.

Harvey then walked over where Sal's men had taken up a position. There were 45-caliber shell casings covering the ground. There were also three men on the ground that had been hit by Harvey's Thompson. Two of them were dead, but the third was moaning and writhing; he'd been hit in the lower right leg and the left shoulder.

Harvey stood over him and said, "You're gonna wish those bullets had killed you."

Gunman: "Fuck you, copper."

Harvey kicked him hard in the wounded leg, eliciting a loud scream. "Same to you, asshole."

Harvey stayed at the scene for most of the night helping with the wounded and asking those capable of talking about what had happened. What happened before he got there was essentially what he had thought. The eight gunmen had walked up to the front of the restaurant and killed the two guards outside; then tossed two grenades through the front plate glass window. After the grenades went off, they stood in front pouring automatic fire into the establishment, wounding or killing anyone left standing. As those inside still alive began to return fire, the gunman backed to the position behind the cars where Harvey saw them when he arrived. When the police arrived soon after, Jerome had yelled that the police were here and for everyone to stop firing, but all that did was to draw automatic fire toward him. He was hit immediately and later died holding Harvey's hand. The gunman had left their cars down the passageway between the buildings, and the survivors escaped into those cars.

Chapter 20:

The next morning Harvey was back at his office filling in JD about the firefight and aftermath.

"This morning I found out the tally of dead so far: two policemen, eight of the Morgan Gang, two civilians, and two of Sal's gunman. There were also about ten wounded, one critically. Heck of a butcher's bill."

JD: "Lucky you weren't on it."

"I wasn't really at risk. I knew what I was doing and had a good firing position. I'm pretty sure my appearance on their flank is what drove them off, but their work was done. They killed eight key members of the Morgan Gang, including Morgan himself. Unless they get reinforcements, I don't see how they can retaliate. I guess that's a good thing since hitting back would have just killed more civilians."

JD: "At least you got one of the goons alive; maybe we can pressure him to give up Sal."

"Let's hope so. He's at the hospital, under guard. Let's go down and see what we can get out of him."

The hospital was only about half a mile from the city center and still looked new, having been built only about five years earlier. JD parked in the large parking lot, and they went directly up to man's room on the third floor. There were two uniformed policemen, one standing on each side of the door, one was white and one Negro. That surprised Harvey, and he thought that Captain Dawly must have ordered that, nice gesture. When they entered, the detectives saw a large man with one leg in suspension and a large bandage on his left shoulder. He was also handcuffed to the bed.

"Well, look at this JD, our killer is trussed up like a pig for slaughter."

JD: "A really ugly pig too."

Mike: "Very funny coppers. Get out of here."

"That's not how you treat your visitors. We came down to make sure they're taking really good care of you, so that when we fry you in the electric chair you're healthy."

Mike: "No way you're burning me, flatfoot."

"JD, he's says no way. Whada think?"

JD: "Let's see. We have at least 15 major felonies against him, including my favorite, several counts of murder. He was caught at the scene with a dozen witnesses willing to testify to that, counting my colleague here, Detective Halloway. I'd say we should baste him with butter and get him ready for the fryer."

"Doesn't sound good for you, Mike. If I were you, I'd want to make a deal. Maybe there's something you could do for us."

Mike: "Whada want me to do?"

"How about testifying against Sal in court, so we can put him in jail for the rest of his life?"

Mike: "Are you nuts? I'd be trading the electric chair for a bullet to the back of the head."

"We could protect you; give you a new identity."

Mike: "You cops can't even protect your own. Now get out. I'm not a snitch."

JD: "Well, it's better to be a snitcher than a fritter. Ha, I just made that up. Mike, I'd take the former, longer life expectancy."

Mike: "Get out. I got nuttin' more to say."

As JD and Harvey headed for the door, Harvey said, "Think about it. We'll be back to see you real soon."

When they were out of earshot of the guards, Harvey said, "Finally we got a break."

JD: "Whadaya mean? I thought he made it clear he won't talk?"

"No, what he made clear was he wants to bargain. Oh, he'll talk. You see his expression when we were talking about the electric chair. That got his attention. Regardless of what he said verbally, physically he was saying 'let's make a deal.'"

JD: "I didn't get that at all."

"There are a lot of little cues in someone's body language that you get used to after many, many interrogations. I saw a look of fear in both his eyes and mannerisms. As time goes by, and he realizes he's destined for the electric chair; he'll turn on Sal to save his own neck. I don't think we're any closer to solving Victor's murder, but we are closer to ridding this city of a psychotic murderer."

JD: "God, I hope you're right."

Chapter 21:

When both men were back at their desks, JD asked, "So, when you gonna call Vicki and set up a date? It sounds so romantic." JD grinned from ear to ear.

"I said after the case was over. Even then, I may have been hasty in my comments."

JD: "Oh no you don't. You have to do this. You've almost been smoked twice in the last two weeks, not counting last night's shootout. You may not have that much longer to live."

"Well, that's a nice way to put it. I was planning to live at least to retirement. But I guess you're right , I'll call her later."

JD: "Chicken, bawk, bawk, bawk. Call her now. If you don't, you probably won't later either. I'm going to stand over you until you call."

"Okay." Harvey picked up the phone and dialed three numbers. "Hello...Vicki...this is Harvey...of course you know...I want to know if you would, uh, like to go out to dinner tonight. If you can't make it, it's okay...you will?...okay, I'll pick you up at 8. Good bye."

JD: "Way to go. Now go out and relax; have a good time. Forget about the job."

"I'll try."

That night, Harvey drove his new car up to the front of the brownstone in which Vicki lived. He got out and walked toward the door, but Vicki came out before he could reach the steps. She looked great in a green dress that covered her shoulders and upper arms. It was pleated with a brown belt around the waist and ended just at the knees. A pair of matching shoes and a green hat completed the ensemble. She wore a bouffant hairstyle that complemented her face. The bright red lipstick drew one's eyes to her lips and long eyelashes to her eyes. Harvey was very impressed, though this served to make him more nervous. It had been a long time since he had been out on a date. He wore his best suit; a Kingsbridge blue-tweed, double-breasted, high-waist suit. He'd discovered that it had been so long since he'd worn any suit, that this was the only suit he had that wasn't full of moth holes. Luckily it still fit.

"You look lovely tonight, Vicki."

Vicki: "Thank you, Harvey. You look very handsome in that suit. I don't think I have seen you this dressed up in a long time."

"You're right. I think I may have to go shopping soon for some more suits. The moths have made my other ones look like Swiss cheese."

Vicki: "Maybe you should invest in some mothballs. They're cheap."

"I will." Harvey took her hand and led her to the car, where he opened the door and helped her in.

Vicki: "Wow, Harvey, a new Bel Air. I didn't realize you'd gotten a new car."

"Yes, I bought it just for our date."

Vicki: "Oh, Harv, you're such a kidder, but very sweet."

Harvey drove to a small French restaurant that JD had recommended. JD said it had a small garden in the back with candlelight that gave it a very romantic atmosphere. Harvey had called ahead to make sure he could get a table in the garden. He walked up to the concierge and said, "Reservation for Mr. Halloway."

Concierge: "Yes, I have your table. Might I ask if you are Detective Halloway?"

The little hairs on Harvey's neck stood up, "Yes, why do you ask?"

Concierge: "I have been reading about you in the newspapers, and I am a great admirer of you. Please let me provide you and your pretty lady with the best service we can provide tonight." He took them to a table in the garden. "Detective, this is our best table." He signaled the waiter over and whispered something in his ear. "Bon Appetite, both of you." He then returned to the front of the restaurant.

A few minutes later, the waiter returned with a bottle of wine. "This is a 1948 French Chablis. it's a gift to you from the restaurant."

"Thank you very much."

The waiter opened the bottle with a corkscrew that hung around his neck and gave the cork to Harvey. He looked at it and then laid it on the table, not knowing what to do with it. The waiter then poured a small amount of wine into his glass. He drank it and said it was excellent even though he would have been hard pressed telling a good wine from grape juice. The waiter filled their glasses and left.

"I guess I'm a celebrity. I haven't been reading the papers. I'm not even sure what the paper wrote about that would have made me out to be famous."

Vicki: "Wow, you really know how to impress a girl."

"It would have been better if I'd done it intentionally. We should order."

The menus were already on the table.

Vicki: "Gosh, what is all this? I don't know much French."

"That's okay. If you want I can order for both of us. I picked up a lot of tourist French when I was in Europe."

Vicki: "That'd be okay with me. Boy, the prices are little high."

"I thought you were buying. Ha, just kidding. Don't worry about the price; I don't go out to eat very often, so this is a treat."

Harvey signaled the waiter, who was off to the side discretely watching them. The concierge had told him to make sure they got excellent service. He ordered the Chateaubriand and various side dishes using his broken French. The waiter said, "Excellent selections, monsieur."

Vicki: "You're just full of surprises tonight. When were you in Europe?"

"I was in France in 1944 and 45. I was a captain in the Third Army under Patton."

Vicki: "I've heard of General Patton. What ever happened to him?"

"He broke his neck in a car wreak and died soon after the war ended."

Vicki: "He survived the War only to die in a car wreak, how ironic. You don't talk much about your experiences in the army."

"That's because I have been trying to forget them for the last 10 years, though I don't think I every will."

Vicki: "I'm sorry. We should change the subject. How is the case?"

"It's getting very complicated, especially after the firefight in Bayberry."

Vicki: "I was sorry to hear about your friend getting killed."

"Thanks, he was a very good man and friend, not including his being a war hero. Let's get off these depressing topics and onto you. Tell me about yourself."

Vicki: "Well, I grew up on a farm. My parents are still farmers about 20 miles outside the city. I visit them at least once a month. When I graduated from high school, I decided I didn't want to just become a farmer's wife, like my mom. I wanted more, so I went to a two-year school to learn secretarial skills and moved to the big city. It was during the War and there were lots of jobs. In 1943, I began working in the secretarial pool at a plant making parts for the B-25.

"That was very common back then. I was in the Army by 42 and overseas preparing for the invasion of France in 44. Sorry, go on."

Vicki: "That's all right. I met a soldier on leave, and we had a whirlwind romance for three weeks, at the end of which we got married."

"I didn't know you had been married."

Vicki: "You probably don't know a lot about me."

"True, I guess we're trying to rectify that now. What happened to the marriage?"

Vicki: "He was killed in Italy late in the War."

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

Vicki: "To be honest, I can hardly remember what he looked like. I have some photos, but they're packed away. I think we were just young and lustful, and if there hadn't been a war on, I don't know if we would ever have gotten married. Strange isn't it, what War will do."

"I know it destroyed my marriage. I loved my wife very much when I married her just before the War, but I was not the same person when I came back. I couldn't adjust to being back, out of combat, for a long time. My wife couldn't take the new me, so she left. I don't blame her at all. She's happily married now and has a few kids."

Vicki: "I'm sorry, that sounds so sad, even sadder than losing a husband in the War, because at least mine was sudden; there was nothing I could do about it. How did you become a policeman?"

"One good thing about the War was the comradeship. You had men around you that you trusted with your life and could rely on to cover your back. I thought the police force would have something similar, and overall I think that is true. Even though some of your fellow officers may be taking money from the bad guys, none of them want to see an officer injured or killed. If they do, they could always be the next one to be hit. Let's get back to you; what did you do then?"

Vicki: "I kept working at the plant until they closed right after the War ended. I managed to get this job with the police force. Most of the women I was friends with at the plant, just went back to normal lives, you know, marriage and kids. I just didn't want that life. Work here has been exciting and enjoyable."

"Any more romances?"

Vicki: "There've been a few, but nothing serious. I guess I've been waiting for the right man."

"I'd like to apply for the job."

Vicki: "I have your application under consideration, but the interview process is just starting."

The rest of the evening consisted of eating excellent food, drinking excellent wine, and having an excellent time. They finally decided to leave when the waiters began to clean everything off the tables in preparation for closing. Harvey drove Vicki home and walked her to her front door.

Vicki: "Did you want to come up for coffee?"

"No, I'd better not. I have to get some sleep before tomorrow. But I did want to say I had a wonderful time and would love to do this again."

Vicki leaned forward and gave Harvey a long, wet kiss, then said, "That means I do too."

Harvey drove to his apartment and went straight to bed, but he had trouble getting to sleep.

Chapter 22:

JD: "Well, how'd it go last night? I want details."

"You're one nosey SOB. I don't kiss and tell."

JD: "Well, at least you kissed her."

"More like she kissed me. We had a wonderful evening and plan to do it again over the weekend."

JD: "Good for you; you needed some distraction from being shot at and shooting at criminals."

"What about you and Francis? You've not said much."

JD: "Not too much to say. I've been so busy with this case, which seems to be expanding all over the map, that we haven't seen each other much."

"Whadaya talk about when you're with her?"

JD: "She loves to hear about my work, and I asked her about the people she meets at her job."

"Sounds like you're pumping each other for info. You sure this in on the up-and-up?"

JD: "Yeah, they're innocent questions, and I think this may blossom into something more permanent. I like her a lot."

"Uh oh, looks like trouble ahead."

JD: "You're too cynical."

Harvey's phone rang. "Yes, this is Halloway...you can't be serious...okay, okay, I understand...I'm sending JD down there."

Harvey hung up. "Damn it. Somebody killed Mike Allegretti in the hospital last night. They found one of the night nurses tied up in a utility closet. A woman took her place and went into Mike's room last night and gave him a dose of cyanide. He's deader than a doornail. I told them you'd come down to talk to everyone. See if you can get a description of the woman and have them dust for fingerprints, though I doubt she touched anything."

JD: "That's just great. Okay, I'm off." JD grabbed his hat and headed out.

Harvey muttered under his breath, "So much for nailing Sal."

The next few hours were uneventful, and Harvey poured through the reports coming in on the shooting at the Bayberry restaurant.

JD came back late in the afternoon. "Harv, there wasn't much to get there. We interviewed the night staff, but the nurse imposter kept her face partially covered. I didn't get any good IDs though one nurse did mention that she thought the woman's hair was a dark red. I think you're right about no fingerprints. The killer probably wore gloves, not too unusual in a hospital. It's pretty clear we have nada on this."

"We should have had the officers check anyone entering the room. That was very careless, but that horse has left the barn."

JD: "So where are we on this case. Dead shark?"

"Pretty much. We know that Salmonella ordered the hit on the Morgan gang, but if these reports are any indication, good luck proving it. Mike was our best chance of tying Sal to the murders. We can show that all three dead gunmen were members of Sal's gang, but that won't hold up in court. We need to identify one of the surviving gunmen and convince him to give up Sal. You know...now that I think about it, there was something in the report. One of the witnesses got a look at one of the gunmen using a Thompson. She said he had a dark complexion with dark eyes, but the unusual thing was that half his left ear was missing. During the firefight I got a good look at one of shooters, and now I remember he had only half and ear. That's weird that I should forget that."

JD: "You were under a lot of stress and busy trying not to get killed at the time. I wouldn't be too hard on yourself. Sounds like you have enough to get Debbie working on an ID."

"You're right." Harvey called Debbie and gave her as much detail has he could get from the witness' statement and what he remembered. "Let me know what you find as soon as you can." He hung up the phone. "If we can identify one of the shooters, we could sweat him to give us Sal."

They spent the rest of the day going over the reports on the shooting to make sure they didn't miss anything.

It wasn't until the next morning that Debbie approached Harvey's desk holding three files.

Debbie: "I found three possibles that meet your description. Here take a look."

Debbie laid the files on Harvey's desk, and he opened them in rapid succession looking at the mug shots. "This is him. There's no doubt."

Debbie: "Marcello Pellegrino. Looks like a winner. He has a long rap sheet."

"I think it's going to get a lot longer. Thanks a bunch, Debbie."

Debbie: "You're welcome, sweetie, go get him."

Debbie walked off as both grab their hats. Harvey said, "Let's go get a warrant and then pull in some uniformed officer to help us arrest Mr. Pellegrino."

Finding Mr. Pellegrino was not that easy. JD, Harvey, and three officers went first to his residence, and not finding him, they went straight to the R&R club that Sal's men used. The same place that had the phone wiretap by the FBI.

Harvey knocked on the door and yelled, "Police," then immediately opened it. Harvey had his revolver out, and JD and the others all had shotguns. The dozen occupants were in the middle of various activities, some playing pool, some playing cards, and some drinking at the bar. "Everybody stay perfectly still. I have a warrant for Marcello Pellegrino here." He held up a piece of paper. "He's the only one I want. Where is he?"

Someone said, "Fuck you, copper."

"In that case everyone stand up and put your hands behind your head. JD take an officer and check the back rooms." The men did as Harvey ordered, but there was a lot of tension in the room. If a gunfight broke out, Harvey knew they were outgunned. Then there was woman's scream from a backroom, and JD reappeared pushing a man in front of him.

JD: "Harv, look who I found with his pants down, Marcello."

JD brought him up to Harvey, who put cuffs on him. "Marcello Pellegrino, you are under arrest for murder."

Marcello: "I ain't done nuttin, copper."

"We'll see." With Marcello in tow, the five policemen backed toward the door and exited one by one as quickly as they could. "Bye, gentlemen, as you were." The police all piled into the two cars and took off fast.

Back at the station, Marcello, still handcuffed, was sitting at the table in an interrogation room. Harvey was seated opposite him with Marcello's file in front of him.

"Marcello, I think you've really outdone yourself this time. Multiple murders. I wonder if they have to fry you in the electric chair for each murder or do they just cook you longer? JD, whada you think?"

JD: "I don't think if matters after the first jolt. I hear your eyeballs explode and then you brain boils."

Marcello: "Just wake me when you're done, coppers. I got nuttin to say."

"We have three witnesses (it was only two) that place you as one of the machine gunman at the Bayberry shooting. That's enough to get a conviction, especially considering that I'm one of them. I got a great look at you, and you know it. I want to be there when they fry you. One of my friends was killed in your killing spree."

Marcello: "I heard one of your coon cop friends was killed. I've always said the only good coon is a dead coon."

"Well, I wonder what a dead Italian is? You know that Sal killed Mike Allegretti when we had him in custody. You think they're going to let you go to jail."

Marcello: "I'm not going to say anything, detective, so why don't you quit wasting my time?"

"JD, take our guest here down to a holding cell and let him think about his abbreviated future."

JD took the prisoner downstairs to the holding cells, returning in about 5 minutes. "So did he want to bargain? I couldn't tell."

"Me neither. He's going to be harder to crack. We'll let him stew overnight. Then we'll hit him again tomorrow with the hopelessness of his current situation. I'm sure Sal knows we got him by now; I'm curious as to what he is going to do about it. I haven't seen any lawyers yet. Either he doesn't think Marcello is going to crack or he's making other plans. It's the latter that worries me."

Chapter 23:

It was late, and JD had left for home hours ago, Harvey didn't want to go home. He was thinking, not about the case, but about Vicki and surprisingly Sadie. Sadie had gotten under his skin. He kept thinking about her even though he found Vicki very attractive. He began talking to himself like he did sometimes when he was alone at work. The silence could be oppressive, plus talking out loud would help clear his mind and organize his thoughts.

"Why would I even be thinking about Sadie, she is obviously dangerous and a risk to my job. Vicki is nice, attractive and someone I can see having a serious relationship with. I don't understand. I guess one can't decide who he's attracted to or not. Maybe giving Sadie a call wouldn't...

Officer: "Harv, who you talking to?"

An officer had entered the squad room without Harvey noticing. Embarrassed, he said, "I'm just dictating some notes."

Officer: "Harv, I talk to myself all the time. There's nothing wrong with it. It does drive my wife crazy though."

"Have the prisoners in the holding cells been checked out?"

Officer: "Yeah, they're all bedded down. Except the one prisoner that Officer Jackson from the 23rd brought in just a few minutes ago. He wanted to put him in our holding cell for tonight instead of taking him all the way back to the 23rd."

"I don't know of any Officer Jackson in the 23rd. You sure that's what he said."

Officer: "The desk sergeant said he had the right paperwork."

"Wait a minute..." Harvey got up quickly and pulled his revolver from the drawer. "Come with me."

He ran to the stairs and down to the holding cells. As he pushed through the metal doors leading to the cell area, he immediately saw one man laying on the floor and another one in a policeman's uniform standing, pointing a gun into one of the cells. The one pointing the gun said, "Sal says sorry, but he can't take any chances."

Harvey stopped and yelled, "Drop the gun." The other officer frozen but didn't lower his gun. Suddenly he turned in an attempt to bring his gun to bear on Harvey, who fired two quick shots. The man was hit and discharged his gun into the ceiling while falling backward onto the floor. The officer behind Harvey yelled, "What are you doing? You just shot a fellow officer."

"I seriously doubt that." Harvey ran up to the downed officer to check for signs of life, but there were none. "I didn't want to kill him, but I couldn't risk just wounding him." Harvey turned to look into the cell. Marcello was against the back wall of the cell, very pale and shaken. "Sal must have thought you weren't worth saving, Marcello."

Harvey turned to the other officer and said, "Get the morgue to send over a couple men to pick up the body, and then call the 23rd to see if they have an officer named Jackson that's supposed to be over here tonight."

Chapter 24:

Next morning, JD rushed into the squad room and up to Harvey, he said, "Now you don't even have to leave the station to get into a gunfight? I thought you said in 10 years you've only fired your gun a few times. In the last couple weeks you've been in three gun fights, killed at least four men, and were almost blown up."

"It's been an unusual two weeks. Whadaya want me to say? I would much prefer not to be in a gunfight every other day. I will tell you one thing, my nerves have about had it. If this case doesn't end soon, I'll be dead from a heart attack."

JD: "You and me both. So what happened?"

"Sal had one of his men waylay an officer from the 23rd and take his uniform and identification; then he grabbed some drunk off the street as his collar. The fake officer then came here late last night and asked to keep his prisoner here overnight. Since he had the right ID, our men naturally said okay, but, when he got to the holding cells, he hit the drunk on the head and was preparing to kill our guest Marcello. I got down there just in time to stop him. Funny thing is that there is an officer named Jackson in the 23rd; he's new, and I didn't know him. I wouldn't have shot him if he hadn't had his gun out pointing at Marcello."

JD: "We almost lost another one. Good work."

"Thanks. I'm definitely taking a vacation after this."

JD: "Everyone says you don't take vacations."

"Well, this is the case to get me to take one. Let's bring our guest up and see if he has changed his mind since yesterday."

Fifteen minutes later, Marcello was in the interrogation room with Harvey opposite and JD standing behind him. There was a tape recorder running at one end of the table.

"Well, Marcello, do you want to talk now or maybe we just let Sal know where you are and when we're moving you?"

Marcello: "Okay, copper, what's your deal?"

"I'll keep you out of the electric chair, and you can serve your time in a Federal prison where Sal can't get to you."

Marcello: "That's it? I want immunity to testify against Minnelli."

"What world are you living in? You were part of a team that killed a dozen people, including two cops. Do you really think I can get you immunity for that? The DA would laugh in my face. We want Sal all right, but not if it means letting you off."

Marcello: "Then no deal."

"Okay, JD let's spread the rumor that Marcello has spilled his guts to us and then let him go in a few days. I figure he wouldn't make nightfall the first day."

JD: "Will do, boss." JD grabs Marcello's shoulder.

Marcello: "Oh what the hell. I'll talk. I'm probably a dead man no matter which way this goes."

"Good, start with who the other gunmen were that did the shooting in Bayberry."

Marcello told them everything he knew about the killing and Sal's business. He was only a gunsel for Sal, so he couldn't give them much on Sal's organization, but he gave them a lot of leads to follow. He told them who had killed whom and where some of the bodies were hidden. He also knew names of drug pushers and pimps, plus the locations of several gambling and prostitution establishments. When he finally finished two hours later, JD and Harvey had enough to bring Salmonella down.

JD handed Marcello off to a couple officers waiting at the door to take him back to holding. Harvey said to them, "I want a 24 hour guard on him and nobody goes near him but me. Got it?" They nodded in affirmation.

"Now, let's take what we got and go to the DA to see what he can use out of this."

They grabbed the tape and collected the files they needed off their desks before telling the DA that they were heading over to the Justice Building. The Justice Building was another stone monstrosity built during the same period as their station. Just below the Justice Building sign on the front of the building were the words "All Equal Before the Law" carved into the stone. Harvey said under his breath, "I wish" as he read them for the umpteenth time.

The District Attorney was Charlton 'Carl' Astor: white male, 5 feet 11 inches, 175 pounds, late thirties, light brown hair, blue eyes, slim build, and sophisticated good looks. Charlton was a distant relative of the wealthy Astor family and was very ambitious; he had his eye on the governor's mansion and maybe higher. He was one of a few men in the building that Harvey was sure to be honest and not on Sal's payroll. The ambition was a double edged sword; on one side, the DA didn't want any scandals marring his record, like going light on gangsters, but on the other side, he wouldn't take cases he wasn't down right sure he could win. This sometimes put an extra burden on Harvey and the police in general, because they had to have an unusual preponderance of evidence.

JD and Harvey entered the outer office of the DA, which was occupied by an older woman behind a desk, typing. When she looked up Harvey said, "Detectives Halloway and Delany. We're expected."

She said, "Go right in."

When they entered, Carl stood up and reached across his desk with an open hand. Harvey shook it and said, "This is Detective Delany, my partner."

Carl: "I'm surprised they could find anyone to work with you, Harv."

"My reputation is overblown. I think we have some good stuff for you here. As I mentioned on the phone, Marcello Allegretti has turned state's evidence and spilled everything he knows about Sal Minnelli. I brought the tape, but let me summarize what he gave us."

Harvey listed all the pertinent incriminating information that Marcello gave them. "Whada ya think? Can we get Sal with this testimony?"

Carl: "We can definitely convict the other gunmen in the Bayberry shooting and get warrants to arrest some of the pushers and pimps and maybe some of the lower bosses. But I can't convict Sal of anything based on this. You can't tie him directly to the killings. If you get some of the low-echelon managers to testify to Sal's direct involvement in the killings, gambling, or prostitution, you can get a conviction, but not with this."

JD: "That stinks."

Carl: "Sorry, but that's the way the law works. You got to prove it with hard evidence."

JD: "It still stinks.

"Well, get us the warrants for those mentioned on the tape and also warrants to allow us to raid his gambling and prostitution businesses. At least we can hurt him really badly."

Carl: "I will. I know a few judges who are still honest and won't let Sal know you're coming."

"Maybe we can get one of his men from the raids to turn on him like Marcello. Thanks, Carl."

Harvey and JD left and headed back to the station to organize the men to begin rounding up the perps and making the raids. He made sure no one used the phone and didn't tell anyone what the group was up to. Harvey made sure to pick officers that he trusted and knew were honest. It took only an hour for the warrants to arrive. After putting out an APB on the gunmen, JD, Harvey, and six uniformed officers headed out.

They caught one of the Bayberry gunmen at the R&R club: a patrol officer caught another one trying to flee town. They failed to find the other two gunmen but sent APBs out to the whole state and to major cities in neighboring states. Harvey expected them to be nabbed quickly. Harvey's raiding party then began rounding up the drug dealers and pimps, and by the end of the day, twenty-one men were crowded into the station's holding cells, along with the gunmen. Marcello was already in an isolation cell, separated from the rest of the prisoners. By now, it was getting late and the squad took a break to eat before starting the raid on the first gambling establishment. Again, he made sure no one made any calls and didn't disclose their destination.

JD: "Shouldn't Vice be making this raid."

"Yes, but I think some of the men in Vice are on Sal's payroll, so I wanted to make at least this first one before we turn it over to them."

JD: "Harv, Sal's going to want your head on a pike."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. This is going to hurt him financially and may even result in his being deposed."

JD: "We don't know who ordered the first the two attempts on your life, but I know who will order the next one, Sal. You'd better keep an eye open all the time and keep your gat handy."

"I already do. It's almost 10, let's go."

They made the raid on a nondescript large house on Cleveland Street that had been renovated to have a large gambling area downstairs and rooms for prostitutes upstairs. They collected only the employees and let the patrons walk. The dozen men and women were taken to County lock up.

Under Vice's supervision, the raids continued for the next few days and through the weekend. In five days, they raided eight houses of gambling and prostitution and managed to arrest almost 100 of Sal's employees. It would take days to process them all, then have them arraigned, and, if required, tried. Most would get off with a fine, but those in management positions were to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law unless they turned state's evidence. In addition, the last two Bayberry gunmen were picked up, one downstate and another in Chicago. All of them, including Marcello, were being held in the Federal lock-up under heavy guard. They would be arraigned and tried separately. None of them could provide evidence that could be used to arrest Sal, so all, except Marcello, would probably go to the chair.

Chapter 25:

The next morning, as Harvey and JD reviewed reports, Captain Dawly stuck his head out of his office and yelled, "Harv, come into my office."

"Yes, Sir."

Once Harvey was seated in a chair opposite the Captain's desk and the door was shut, Patrick said, "Harv, I'm worried about you. This case has blown up way beyond a simple murder. You've had two attempts on your life, which we're not even sure who ordered, and four gunfights, including one here in the basement. I know you say you're okay and I know you were in combat in Europe, but this has got to be taking a major strain on you. I'm thinking of putting someone else on the case and giving you break, maybe even a vacation."

"Please don't Patrick. I know this case is taking a toll on me, and I'd be lying if I didn't agree with that, but, as strange as it sounds, I like working on this. I have a lot of personal investment in this case. If you brought anyone else in to replace me, there would be a steep learning curve that could stop the momentum we've built up."

Patrick: "I'd keep JD on the case to help the transition."

"Even then, he doesn't know all that I do and his inexperience can cause him to miss things. He is going to be an excellent officer, but he's not there yet."

Patrick: "Okay, I don't like taking anyone off a case that doesn't want to be taken off. But let me make it very clear to you. If this keeps on the way it has been, I'm going to have to replace you just to preserve your sanity. One question, any idea who killed Victor yet?"

"It's as I suspected. None of Sal's men that we've interrogated knew anything about the killing, which leads me to stay with my supposition that Sal didn't order the killing. There's still another player out there, someone who's stayed hidden. I don't know who or why."

Patrick: "Let me know when you find out something." One last thing, if this case becomes too much to handle, don't hesitate to let me know."

"Thanks, boss, there are still a lot of loose ends out there."

Harvey left the Captain's office and went back to his desk.

JD: "What the hell was that all about?"

"The Captain wants to fire you and asked if it was okay with me. I said 'sure.'"

JD: "What?"

"I'm kidding. He wanted to talk about the case and tell me we're doing a bang up job."

JD: "Don't scare me like that. Wha'd he say about me?"

"Like I said, he thinks BOTH of us are doing a great job...that includes you."

JD: "Good, I worry some times."

"Well don't."

Harvey and JD spent the next few hours conducting interrogations and filling out reports. Then about 3 in the afternoon, Harvey's phone rang.

"Detective Halloway...that's great, bring him to the station. We'll interrogate him here."

JD: "What was that?"

"The officers we left to watch the dry cleaners, just picked up Dean Maloney, the other gunman that tried to kill me. They're bringing him in now."

JD: "God, I'd almost forgotten about that."

"I sure hadn't."

When the officers showed up with Maloney forty minutes later, JD and Harvey were waiting in the interrogation room.

"Hi, Dean, it's been a while since we've seen each other. Last time I saw you, you were holding a Thompson. I like you better with handcuffs."

Dean: "Yeah, funny. Let's get this over with."

"Sorry, I didn't realize you have plans. Seems to me you'll have plenty of time on your hands right up to when they sit you down in the electric chair. Who hired you to kill me?"

Dean: "I don't know."

"That's a bad start."

Dean: "No, I really don't know. We were hired over the phone and put up in a house, my partner and me. They paid money directly into our bank accounts. I never met anyone, except one man that came by the house with your file and photos. He didn't give his name, but if you give me a deal, I'd be glad to give his description."

"What happened to the files and photos?"

Dean: "We were told to burn them and we did. Whada'bout a deal?"

"You killed three people, I'm not sure you have enough to get a deal."

Dean: "I'll tell you everything I know and help you as much as I can. What about second degree murder?"

"To be honest, I don't think the DA's going to buy it, but I'll see what I can get you. Where did you take the phone call? We checked the phone records from the house, and there was nothing there."

Dean: "They never called us there. I was at the Rockford Hotel on 6th, room 501, I think."

"We'll check it out. Whada ya do after the shooting?"

Dean: "Nothing really. I went back to the house, but someone had cleaned it out. I was on my own. I should have skipped town right then, but I waited for the flurry to die down and went to pick up my suits. I guess that was a mistake, uh."

"Yes, you guess right. I'm going to send in a sketch artist to get a description of the man that dropped off the files. I'll see what the DA will offer you as a deal for being cooperative."

JD and Harvey turned off the tape recorder and left the room.

JD: "That wasn't very helpful. We still don't know anything."

"I want you to get the phone records for that room in the Rockford. Let's see who called. Maybe they were careless."

JD: "Okay."

"I'm going to keep working on Sal's gang members."

Chapter 26:

The next morning, JD and Harvey had the phone records and the sketch of the man that Dean had met in hand.

"We have an address for that call to Maloney. That's a lead at least. Let's go check it out. I know the area, so I'll drive."

They pulled up to any older house in the residential district of Ashland, one of the first residential districts built after the city was incorporated 70 years ago. The house was a single story ranch. A red Ford was parked in the driveway.

"JD, go around to the back but don't go in."

JD: "Right."

Harvey knocked on the door without announcing that he was a police officer. A man answered the door, Alexander Stratos: white male, 5 feet 5 inches, 158 pounds, mid-fifties, bald with brown and grey hair sides, grey eyes, and diminutive build. He matched the artist sketch to a T.

"Hello, I'm Detective Halloway, and I'd like to ask you a few questions."

Alex: "Of course officer. Please come in."

"My partner, Detective Delany, is at the back door, can you ask him to come in?"

Alex went to the back door and let JD inside. They all sat down in the living room, which had very old and worn furniture and not much else. The detectives sat on a beat up couch, while Alex sat in a club chair facing them, off to the side. Alex was fidgeting and gave every indication of being nervous.

"Can I get your name for the record?"

Alex: "I'm Alexander Stratos."

"Have you lived here long?"

Alex: "About 5 years."

"A call was made to room 501 at the Rockford Hotel five weeks ago from this phone. Did you make that call?"

Alex: "I'm sorry I don't remember that far back."

"Any idea why you would call the hotel?"

Alex: "No, I don't."

"That's too bad, because that means we'll have to continue this conversation at the police station. Grab your hat."

Alex: "Wait, wait, what is this all about? I haven't done anything wrong." He was visibly shaking and had turned pale.

"We're going to find out if you've done anything wrong or not. But my gut says you have."

They handcuffed him and took out to the car. Alex kept mumbling under his breath, but Harvey couldn't make out what he was saying.

Once they were in the interrogation room, Harvey said, "We know you dropped off some files to two men that subsequently tried to kill me. We also know that a call to one of those men came from your house. My bet is that you or someone you know ordered the contract on me. You're going to be charged with multiple counts of murder and conspiracy to commit murder. Care to explain?"

Alex: "I don't have anything to say. I take the fifth."

"You take the fifth in court not here."

Alex: "Then I want a lawyer."

"Three people were killed in that attack. That means you will be sharing the electric chair with some very unsavory characters."

Alex: "I don't have anything to say."

A policeman stuck his head into the room. "Hey, Harv, there's call for you. The guy said it was urgent."

"JD, hold the fort. I'll see what this is about."

Harvey took the call at his desk. "This is Detective Halloway."

FBI: "Harv, you picked up somebody we've had under surveillance. We need you to let him go."

"He's a suspect in a triple homicide. I can't just let him go."

FBI: "It's been cleared with your boss. This is important."

"He's critical to a case we are working on. He's the only lead we have."

FBI: "I'll make a deal with you. If you let him go, we will let you in on our case, and tell you where it leads."

"Can you, at least, tell me what this is about?"

FBI: "Not right now. We're not even sure ourselves."

"Okay, we'll let him go, but don't keep me hanging here."

FBI: "I won't." The phone line went dead.

Harvey checked with Captain Dawly to confirm the request and then went to the interrogation room.

"Mr. Stratos, we've made a mistake our apologies. You are free to go. JD, get him released and get an officer to take him back to his house."

JD: "Uh...okay."

After Stratos had left, JD came up to Harvey and said, "What the hell was that all about? We didn't make a mistake."

"I know, but the FBI wanted him cut loose. They've been watching him."

JD: "Why?"

"I have no idea; he didn't say, but he did say they would let us in on the case as it develops."

JD: "I hope they keep their word. Stratos was our only lead."

"Well that's not quite true. I had the telephone records pulled before he called. I took a look at them, and there may be some leads there."

JD: "We're almost done processing Sal's people, but there are a few more places we need to raid.

"I'm passing that over to Vice, we need to keep on this case. Anyway, I don't think we are going to get much more out of the raids from here on. Sal's no fool, I'm sure he's already moved most of his operations. That's why we hit the main ones first. The good thing is that we hurt him bad; we took a lot of his money, stopped some revenue flows, and have a number of his middle managers locked up. It's going to take him a while to recover from our raids."

JD: "Do you think we pissed him off?"

"Oh, yeah."

Chapter 27:

That night Harvey had another date with Vicki and took her to the movies. Afterward, they went to a quiet bar for drinks near the theater. The place was small and upscale; a good place for a romantic evening.

Vicki: "I liked the movie. That James Dean is really cute."

"I thought he seems somewhat effeminate. But he's a very good actor. I think we're going to see a lot of him from now on."

Vicki: "I agree. How are things on the case?"

"Well, we have done a lot of damage to Salmonella's organization with the raids and picking up his gunsels."

Vicki: "Ha, I always laugh when you guys refer to Minnelli as Salmonella."

"Yes, I guess it is funny. He is sort of a poison."

Vicki: "I thought this was a murder case, not racketeering?

"Well, it has sorta expanded. Victor worked for Sal and as we investigated deeper, the more we got into Sal's business. Then things really blew up when he hit the Morgan gang down in Bayberry."

Vicki: "Was it Sal who tried to kill you with the grenade and at the Bistro?"

"Not likely, seems there's a third party involved that we haven't been able to pinpoint. At least that's our theory."

Vicki: "Another group decided to kill you right now? Do you think it is related to the case? I've heard you have a lot of enemies in the criminal world."

"That's true, but I really don't believe in coincidences. I think someone is trying to kill me because of Victor's murder. I don't know why yet, nor who. But to make two attempts on my life shows a certain amount of desperation or dedication."

Vicki: "How are your wounds from the car bombing?"

"They're pretty much healed now. Some nice scars though."

Vicki: "You men and your scars, they're like badges of honor. You'd think the one over your eye was enough. How'd you get that?"

"My company was in the hedgerow country in France, trying to root the krauts out of their defenses. I was leading my men and stuck my head up to check out what was ahead. I should have known better, but I guess I stayed too long. Just as I turned to lower my head, a sniper's bullet hit me just above my eye and below my helmet rim. If he'd fired a second earlier, I'd be dead. As it was, the bullet just glanced off my skull. It looked a lot worse that it was. They gave me a purple heart anyway."

Vicki: "Wow that must have been horrible."

"Like I said I've tried to forget it. Living with the possibility of death and having men die around you is something that's hard to forget, in spite of my best efforts. The grenade and firefight brought a lot of memories back."

Vicki: "Maybe you can show me your other scars later."

"You do know they are on my bu...uh...posterior?"

Vicki: "Yes I do."

"Why, Vicki, you're nasty girl. Are you flirting with me?"

Vicki: "Wow, you ARE a detective, so quick on the uptake."

After continuing to talk for another hour, Harvey drove Vicki home. He walked her up to her front door.

Vicki: "Why don't you come in? I would like you to. I can make coffee."

"Okay, I would like that, too."

They entered Vicki's row house and as soon as the door shut, began kissing passionately. Harvey was unzipping her dress as Vicki was unbuttoning his shirt, all as they kissed and moved toward Vicki's bedroom. By the time they reached the bed, they had only their underwear on and even those were off within seconds.

Chapter 28:

The next morning Harvey came in looking very tired but with a smile. JD had gotten there before him, which was unusual.

JD: "You look happy."

"Vicki and I went out last night."

JD: "Uhoh, I think that smile must mean that you.."

"Stop right there, or you're going to get in big trouble."

JD: "That's all right, I think you answered my question. What's on the agenda for today?"

"I think it's time we twisted the lion's tale."

JD: "Okay, you and your animal metaphors. What's that mean?"

"I want to bring in Salmonella and ask him some questions."

JD: "That's going to make you even less popular than you are now. I didn't think that was possible."

"I called Sal and told him I wanted to talk to him here at the station at 10 this morning. I told him he could come voluntarily or I could bring him down in handcuffs. He didn't know I was bluffing, so he agreed. But he will have an attorney sidekick joining us."

JD: "Well this should be fun."

"Let's make sure we're prepared. I want to go over any pertinent info linking Sal to the killings and the racketeering. There are two of his men that may be willing to turn state's evidence, but they're shaky. We can use them for leverage, at least."

The men spent the next two hours putting together the notes for the interrogation and were ready when Sal, his lawyer, and Vince showed up at the station on time.

"Hello, Sal, good to see you again. I see you brought two flunkies with you."

The lawyer didn't respond, but Vince looked at him with a scowl.

Sal: "Hello, Detective, I hope this is important enough to drag me down here. I'm a very busy man."

"Sorry to drag you away from your racketeering."

Lawyer: "Watch you mouth, Detective, you can be charged with libel."

"You know, I doubt that very much, but I'll stop the name calling for now. Sorry Vince, you're not invited into the interrogation room." Harvey signaled to an officer. "Since I don't want you wandering around, I'll have this nice officer watch you while you sit here and twiddle your thumbs." He pointed to a chair outside the interrogation room.

Vince: "Keep it up flatfoot, you'll get your's."

"Maybe, but not today. Have a seat. You can dream about beating up hookers while the adults talk business."

As they went into the room, Vince just stood there glaring at him.

"Can't think of a comeback, huh Vince?"

JD, Harvey, Sal, and the lawyer sat down at the table; JD and Harvey on one side and Sal and the lawyer on the other.

"Nice suit, Sal, where do you buy them?"

Sal: "Why? You couldn't afford them anyway."

"True. Let's get started. Sal, the gunmen responsible for 13 deaths at the Bayberry restaurant all worked for you. Is that correct?"

Sal: "Yes, they were mechanics."

"Boy you sure have a lot of mechanics working for you."

Sal: "It's a big business."

"Right, so did you order these men to hit the Morgan gang?"

Sal: "No, I'm just a businessman."

"Then maybe you can explain how it is that eight men that work for you turned out to be the shooters?"

His lawyer leaned over and said something into Sal's ear, Sal said, "I'm not responsible for what my employees do outside of work."

"I got a least two of these men telling me that you ordered the hit."

Sal: "They're lying. Where's your evidence?"

"Let me ask the questions. So you are saying you knew nothing about your men initiating this strike against Morgan and his men."

Sal: "That's correct."

"That's interesting. Were you aware they all had criminal records?"

Sal: "I don't involve myself in matters of hiring and firing. Anyway we like to give ex-cons a chance to start a new life."

"That didn't work out too well, did it? We've hit a number of gambling places and houses of prostitution in the last few weeks. I see that the buildings they were in had been bought by a number of shadow corporations owned by your company. Anything to say about that?"

His lawyer again leaned over and said something into Sal's ear, Sal said, "I am just a landlord many times removed. I'm not responsible for what my tenets are doing. I was not made aware of any illegal activities going on my buildings."

"Apparently you're not responsible for much. It looks like we're going to be able to tie some of these illegal activities to your tail. I wanted to ask you if there was anything that could convince us of your non-involvement?"

Sal's lawyer again leaned over, but Harvey said, "What's wrong, Sal? Can't think or talk for yourself? Does you mouthpiece crap for you too?"

Sal: "You're trying to goad me into saying something that would get me into trouble, but I'm not that stupid. But I will say this: you've become a real pain in my butt and you're going to regret it."

"Sal, are you threating a police officer?"

Sal: "Maybe not just you. Maybe your stupid sidekick here or that broad you're hot on, I think her name's Vicki."

JD: "Hey who you calling stupid, you fucking gangster?"

"Vicki, Vicki? I don't think I know anyone by that name. Your lawyer better shut you up before I have to arrest you for threatening an officer of the court."

Sal: "I didn't say I would do it, but you never know if someone else might have my best interests at heart."

"All I can say is that if anyone close to me dies, I'm coming to you and not to talk."

Lawyer: "Now who's threatening, Detective?"

"I would never threaten your client. He's such an upstanding member of our business community."

Lawyer: "That's right, with lots of friends in high places."

"I think the only friends are ones he's bought and paid for."

Lawyer: "Again, very close to libel, Detective."

"I'm not done asking questions."

Lawyer: "Actually you are. My client came down here willingly and has been questioned about things he knows nothing about and then insulted."

"Sal, how are things with the reserve?"

Sal: "What the hell does that mean?"

"Think about it, maybe you'll come up with an answer."

Lawyer: "Come on, Sal, we're leaving." The two men rose from the table and walked to the door. Sal said, "See you later copper."

"Soon, Sal, soon."

Vince joined them, and they left the station, laughing.

Harvey and JD were still in the interrogation room.

JD: "That didn't go as planned."

"How the hell did he know about Vicki, I only started see her a week ago."

JD: "May he has someone following you?"

"I'd spot a tail in no time, so I don't think so. Wait a minute. Did you tell Francis about Vickie and me?"

JD: "Come on, Francis wouldn't say anything."

"I take that as a 'yes.'"

JD: "Yeah I might have talked about you two."

"What else have you told her? Anything about the case?"

JD: "Of course not, I think."

"What do you mean 'you think'?'"

JD: "I don't' remember everything I've said to her, we've been out about six times. Do you remember everything you say to Vicki?"

"I don't have to. Vicki works here. There's very little I can tell her that she doesn't already know or can find out."

JD: "I'm pretty sure we haven't talked about the case or personal stuff. I guess she picked up on the stuff I said about you...oh, no...she's been passing on our conversations to Sal."

"Did you run a background check on her?"

JD: "Yes, I did, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. She seems like a nice girl living on her own. I guess this means I'll have to dump her. I really like her."

"No, don't break up with her; we have a direct line to Sal through her. We can use her to our advantage."

JD: "Boy, I'm really pissed. I thought she really cared for me."

"So you were going to use her for info, but she beat you to it. Sort of ironic, isn't it?"

JD: "Yeah, ironic, that's one word you could use."
Chapter 29:

That night, Harvey pulled up to his apartment building. It was late, and Harvey was exhausted from interviewing Sal's staff they'd brought in over the last few days. So far it hadn't been very fruitful, but there were a couple bosses that might be willing to give evidence for a deal. Now all he wanted to do was get a very large drink and pass out on the couch. He got out of his car and shut the door. He saw a reflection in the car window of a man about fifteen feet behind him and immediately dropped to the ground. Almost simultaneously, a shot rang out, and a bullet hit the car window right where Harvey had been a half second earlier. The window shattered. Harvey rolled when he hit the ground and managed to get around to the front of his car. Another shot hit the hood of his car.

"Quit shooting my new car, Vince, you SOB."

Vince: "Hi, Hollywood, Sal sent me to say thanks. Sal didn't want you dead now, but I told him I couldn't wait, so he gave the okay. Why don't you come out and talk?" He fired another shot that passed over the car and close to Harvey's head.

"You and Sal can go fuck yourselves." Harvey rose up and shot twice at Vince, who was moving fast to get behind a car; both shots missed.

Vince: "What a lousy shot. How'd you survive the War?"

"I had a lot of good men around me."

Vince: "It's just you and me now, hero."

"That suits me fine." Harvey rose and fired a shot at Vince's exposed head, but Vince dodged and immediately fired two more shots.

Vince: "After I kill you, I think I'll go fuck your girl, Vicki. I'll make sure she suffers a long time, copper."

Harvey rose up, exposing himself, and pointed his gun at Vince; Vince aimed and fired quickly. But Harvey had intentionally exposed himself to get Vince to fire his sixth round in a hurry and was already in the process of ducking back behind his car when Vince had fired. Even then, Vince's bullet grazed Harvey's arm. Instantly Harvey rose up from behind his car and started sprinting directly at Vince. Vince pulled the revolver's trigger, but the hammer hit on a spent round with an audible 'click.' Vince instantly dropped his empty gun and reached down to his belt to pull out a second gun, but by that time, Harvey had made it around the car Vince was using for cover. Vince's second gun was only halfway up when Harvey appeared less than six feet in front of him with his own gun aimed at his midsection. Harvey had gotten the drop on him.

"I don't think you should try to point that at me; it would be a serious mistake. In the Army, they always taught us to be aware of how many rounds you still had in your clip. You should have been reaching for your other gun instead of taunting me. Another serious mistake."

Vince dropped his gun and said, "Well, it looks like you finally have me, copper. Now what?"

"I heard what you said about Vicki." Harvey fired a shot that passed through Vince's heart, dropping him like a sack of potatoes and just as dead. "I always said I was going to kill you if I got the chance, you SOB. Have fun in hell, Vince."

Placing his hand over the wound in his arm, Harvey sat down on the pavement and started shaking.

Chapter 30:

The next morning, after Harvey filled out the report on Vince's killing and filled out another shooting report, he said to JD, "I'm actually getting used to filling out these things."

JD: "They said you were shot."

"A bullet just grazed my arm, but it was nothing to write home about. The medical guys put a few stitches in it.

JD: "You should start notching your gun, but then it would be hard to hold."

"You were right about who was next up to try and kill me."

JD: "Too bad you didn't catch him alive."

"Yeah, he just wouldn't give up. He tried to shoot it out even when I had the drop on him. At least the world is a better place now. Plus Sal has lost his right hand man."

JD: "Aren't you required to take some time off after a shooting? You haven't taken any time off, and this is your third."

"I'm special. Since I'm on a case I can override the required time off. That's what I've been doing. I got the addresses on Alex's phone records. It would be hard to actually check out the places because the FBI as the same info as we have. Either they've checked the addresses out themselves or have men posted at them. But I was thinking that maybe we can at least get an idea who has been calling Mr. Stratos. I also had Debbie run an ID check on him."

JD: "Whada she find out?"

"Very little. He apparently emigrated from Greece five years ago to come here. He's worked odd jobs, mostly clerical, since then."

JD: "Clerical? How's he fit into all this?"

"I have no idea. Several of the calls he got were from inside a hotel Sal uses for his men. That's where several of his top men stay, and it's well guarded. Only one of Sal's main men could have made that call. There IS a connection."

JD: "What's our next move?"

"We can't do much on the Stratos thing without stepping on FBI toes, so I guess we should try to get Sal to make a stupid move."

JD: "How do we do that?"

"It's not we, it's you. My contacts in Chicago tell me the mob is very mad at Sal for several reasons. First, he got three of their men killed. Second, he drew a lot of attention on the rackets here by the not very subtle shooting in Bayberry, and third, he's not sending them the amount of money they expect to get. Sal has to be aware of this and needs a big haul right away. I want you to go out with Francis and mention in your conversation that we, the police, have been told to get off his back. But the good new is that we will soon have the testimony of one of his men that can put him in jail."

JD: "Geez, how am I my going to slip that into a conversation?

"I have faith in you, Casanova."

JD: "You realize I hate this woman for making a fool out of me?"

"Join the frigging club; most men have been made fools of by women. Did ya think you were different?"

JD: "You're trying to get Sal to hit the Federal Bank, aren't you?

"Yes, he's going to have to be involved in the robbery at some level; there's too much money for him to just stand by. With the Chicago mob breathing down his neck and most of his money tied up by our raids, he needs to do this soon."

JD: "We never got a confirmation that it IS the Federal Bank. What if it's another bank?"

"You're right, it's just my hunch. But it makes sense that it's the target. We're going to have to have some surveillance on Sal's men to make sure we know where the target is."

JD: "Why don't you ask your DA friend to mention to one of the corrupt judges that he's ordered us to back off of Sal?"

"Good idea. I'll call him."

The two men continued reading reports, and JD went out for few hours. When he returned, halfway through the afternoon, Harvey said, "JD, I need you to do me a favor."

JD: "Sure, boss."

"Don't call me boss. I need you to follow me to your uncle's car dealership. He's agreed to replace my busted window and patch the bullet hole and repair any other damage. As far as I could tell, the bullet didn't hit anything vital under the hood. I told Larry it was an emergency; that I needed it right away. He agreed to get it done late today after the main business had died down. He mentioned he didn't get much call to fix bullet holes. I told him I wasn't surprised. I didn't' want to wait around for two hours doing nothing. I thought maybe we could get a drink until it's done."

JD: "Okay, I could use a drink. Your brand new car got shot up. Kinda sad."

"Yeah, sad. One other thing, remind me not to use my car as a shield in the future. It's too expensive."

JD: "I'll try, but worrying about a car getting damaged, when being shot at, is probably not foremost in your mind."

"Point taken."

JD followed Harvey's car to the dealership then picked him up when he came out of the service office. They drove to a bar nearby that Harvey had frequented many times. It was a typical Irish pub type atmosphere. There was a long bar with several tables in an open area. There was wood paneling everywhere, pictures of Ireland, Irish paraphernalia, and a dartboard in the corner.

They walked in and sat at the bar. The bartender walked over and said, "Hi, Harv. The usual?"

"Yes, thank you. I'd like to introduce by partner, Jack Delany, or just JD. JD, this is my friend Erin."

JD: "Glad to meet you, Erin."

Erin: "Same, wha'daya drinkin'?"

JD: "I'll have the same as Harvey."

Erin: "Okay, two double Old Southern's."

"I didn't know you're a whiskey man."

JD: "I'm not. I usually drink beer."

"Well tonight you get to drink like a man."

JD: "I notice you drink a lot. Doesn't it bother you?"

"During the War, me and my men would get falling down drunk whenever we got the chance. Always while on leave, never at the front. It was the only way we could deal with the deaths of friends and the fact that we had to go back to the front. People that have not been in combat can't really understand what it's like. It's called the 'tyranny of the present.'"

JD: "What's that mean?"

"It's hard to explain. When you're at work, you might sit back and think about what you are going to do tonight or what you did yesterday or even what you did a year ago. In combat, you can't do that. You have to be in the moment, alert to everything around you. If you start daydreaming, you can make a mistake or miss something. But it's not just that. It's also when you are being shelled, there's nothing you can do except make yourself as small a target as possible and wait for it to end. But during the barrage, you can't really think of anything except that you might get killed any second. Your thoughts are totally focused on that possibility. If you are wounded, you are thinking 'how bad' and 'am I going to die' and 'where's the medic.' It's all what's happening now. That may give you some idea, but like I said, it's very hard to explain unless you've been there."

JD: "Wow, that sounds horrible."

"When you add in the fact that you have family at home to the mix, it gets even worse. I saw men die that I had been with every day for two years. You get close to your fellow soldiers, far beyond the usual friendships people form in daily lives. Depending on each other does that. Enough of this depressing War talk. Tell me more about yourself."

JD: "In all the time I've been with you, I don't remember a single time we went out and had a personal talk."

"Maybe I'm just getting used to you. Go ahead and tell me your life story. You may not get another chance."

JD: "It's not very interesting. I was raised in the city in a good middle class neighborhood, and my dad was a jeweler and my mom a grade school teacher. There was nothing exciting about my childhood that really sticks out. I finished high school about a year after the War ended, so I didn't get a chance to join and see action. I was a good athlete in high school playing football and track. So I decided to go to college and managed to get a scholarship from the state college. I found out two things very fast. One was that now I was competing with athletes from all over the state, and I went from a big fish in a small pond to just the opposite. I also don't think I had the drive that many of these farms boys had. Secondly I was no scholar either. I did okay, all my grades were passing, but I was nowhere near the top of any class. I have to admit I don't think I applied myself very well. There were lots of pretty girls, and I did my best to seduce all of them."

"Any of them special?"

JD: "There was one named Mary, that I thought the world of. We dated for quite a while, which was very unusual for me."

"What happened?"

JD: "She wanted to get married after we graduated, but I wasn't even sure I was going to graduate. I didn't know what I wanted. Married life scared me. Settling down with kids, working some job day to day. I couldn't do it. She finally gave up on me and went her own way."

"How do you feel about that now?"

JD: "Geez, what are you, my shrink?"

"Sorry, I think I'm too used to interrogations. I didn't mean to pry."

JD: "That's okay. To be honest, I think of her every now and then. If I met her now, I would probably marry her instantly."

"Maybe you should look her up. She may still be available."

JD: "I doubt it. She was so anxious to get married then that she was probably married six months after she graduated."

"I'd check on her anyway. You've got nothing to lose."

JD: "It may open old wounds for both of us."

"True."

JD: "It's been so long, how would I find her?"

"You're a detective, remember. It's what you do for a living. Finish your life story, what happened after you graduated?"

JD: "I didn't graduate, for one thing. I got close, but then I just had to get out. I did a variety of odd jobs. I did construction work for few years, worked on an oilrig, that sort of thing. But nothing seemed to fit me. Then I met a friend from high school. He was a cop and suggested I try out for the police school. I said 'what the hell' and tried out. Much to my surprise, I was accepted. After graduation, I worked a beat for several years; then passed the detective's exam, and the rest is history."

"You were right."

JD: "About what?"

"It not being very interesting."

JD: "Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome." Harvey laughed loudly. JD had never heard Harvey laugh like that; freely and openly. Harvey always seemed so reserved. "Erin, another round."

When the two hours were up, both detectives were three sheets to the wind. They were singing a song that neither one knew all the words to, but it didn't matter. They barely made it to JD's car, and he managed to make it to his uncle's car lot in one piece, but then both men passed out. JD in the front; Harvey in the back of JD's car.

Chapter 31:

"Oh, God, are the Germans attacking? I've been kidnapped. Where am I? Why's it so bright in here?" Harvey had just woken up in the back of JD's car. It was about 7 AM, and the sun was up with the temperature rising fast. Harvey sat up and looked around through his blood-shot eyes. He saw JD in the front seat still asleep in spite of his yelling. It all flooded back into his mind. "Why the hell did we get so fucking drunk?"

He started shaking JD. "Hey JD, wake up. It's morning we have to go to work."

JD rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. He made a squeaking sound and immediately closed them again. "Just kill me and get it over with."

"Come on JD, you're not going to die regardless of how it feels. It's just a hangover." Harvey got out of the car. He walked around trying to stretch out his muscles and get his blood flowing. He looked toward the showroom and saw Larry coming toward him.

Larry: "I didn't know if you guys were dead or on a very secret stake out." He laughed loudly. "Had a few drinks waiting for the car? My nephew looks like he's still under the influence. Maybe I'd better take him home?"

"Thanks, Larry, I think that would be a good idea. Is my car ready?"

Larry: "Yes, it is. I thought you'd ask. Here are your keys. It's parked right over there." Larry pointed to the right. "You be careful driving. You don't look so good either."

"It's been a while since I've had a hangover like this, but it's not my first or last. See you later. Oh, one last thing. My mouth feels like I've been eating cotton balls all night. Can I get some water?"

Larry: "Sure, there is a water cooler just inside the door to the showroom. Try not to drink the whole jug."

"Okay." Harvey got his drink and made it home okay in his new-again Bel Air. He showered, shaved, dressed, and ate, somewhat slower than normal and then drove in to work. When he entered the squad room, Patrick saw him and said, "It's unusual for you to be late. Plus I haven't seen JD this morning either."

"JD told me he wasn't feeling well and may not come in today."

Patrick: "You tell him when you see him that he needs to tell me that himself."

"I will, captain."

Harvey sat at his desk staring at the material he needed to go over, wishing he had stayed home sick. It'd be a long time since he had gotten drunk and even longer since he'd gotten that drunk. He took his coffee without its usual fortifier and pretty much laid off the booze for the rest of the day. He began thinking that maybe drinking all the time wasn't such a good thing, even if he didn't get drunk.

Harvey thought it would be better to be up moving around than sitting at his desk, so he went to check out one of the numbers he'd gotten off Alex's phone tap. It was from an apartment complex, and he wasn't sure why it had caught his eye. Most of the other numbers were businesses or personal phones, and he was sure the FBI had or was investigating them. He knew the building from some earlier case and it had clean upper-middle-class apartments, but he hadn't been in the building. Harvey went into the building and located the public phone on the second floor. It serviced all 12 of the apartments, so it would be hard to determine the caller except by voice. He went back down to the mailboxes and began scanning the names. They were all female. He came to one that stopped him short, 'Francis Durand.'

Much to Harvey's surprise, JD dragged in right after lunch. He didn't look very good and his eyes were still bloodshot. He sat down at his desk and just stared blankly out the window.

"Good to see you're fully recovered. Here, I've got a bacon sandwich for you somewhere with a slab of grease on the side." Harvey laughed with his laugh that came from deep down inside.

JD: "Shut up. I've already vomited up everything I've eaten in the past week. I won't have to poop for a month."

"I'm glad you showed up, we have lots of work to do." Harvey did not feel much better than the way JD looked, but he wasn't about to show it. He decided not to tell him what he'd found at the apartment building.

JD: "Like what?"

"First off, when are you seeing Francis again?"

JD: "We're supposed to go out tonight, but I don't know if I'm up to it."

"Oh, you're up it. Just get a couple dozen cups of coffee down your throat and you'll be fine."

JD: "I'll try."

Harvey's phone rang. "Detective Halloway...yeah, how ya doing?...Right now?...Oh, tonight...Yeah, I know the place. I was there last night...okay, see you at 8."

JD: "Who was that?"

"It was my friend at the FBI. He wants to meet tonight. I think he has something to give me on the case. Looks like we both have a date."

Both men managed to hold on until the end of the day and left as soon as the clock showed 5. Harvey went home and took a nap on the couch until his alarm woke him at 7:30. He straightened up his clothes a little then headed out for the bar that he had been in the night before.

When he walked into the Irish Rebellion Tavern, Erin looked up, and said, "I thought you'd be dead by now, the way you and you're partner were when you left last night."

"It was a near thing, but we both pulled through."

Erin: "Hey, I wanted to ask you about something you said last night. What was this about Hoover being a cross dresser?"

"That was the very drunken Harvey talking, do us both a favor and forget it."

FBI: "I hadn't heard that. Maybe you can tell me about it."

"Hello, George. Please let's drop it." George Gregory: white male, 6 feet, 190 pounds, early forties, brown hair, blue eyes, physically fit, and not attractive except in a rugged sort of way.

George: "Okay, Harv. Let's sit back here at this table."

Erin: "What do you want to drink, Harv?"

"Just make it a beer okay, a weak beer."

Erin: "Okay." He laughed as he got the drink.

George grabbed his scotch and soda and took it to the table he had pointed to. They both sat down. George was wearing a black suit, black tie, white shirt, and black hat.

"That's some disguise you have on. It shouts FBI. You ever think of adding any color to your uniforms?"

George: "Getting fashion advice for you is like getting marriage advice from Mickey Rooney."

"Okay, let's hear what you got."

George: "There's only so much I can tell you, and I'm probably going to go beyond that anyway, but I want you to be aware of what we are doing. You picked up Alex Stratos as his home. We were watching his house and have his phone tapped."

"I thought I saw a car down the street that looked out of place. That was your men, uh?"

George: "Yes. We have it from a number of sources that during the War, Stalin had ordered hundreds of sleeper cells to be established in the US. These cells were to fit into normal society and stay hidden until called upon to do something for the Soviet Union. Because of the influx of refugees during the War, it was easy to establish these cells. After the War was over, the FBI began to ferret them out, and we have managed to locate and expel many, maybe even most. But there are some left. When Stalin died, some of these cells decided it was time to leave and return home clandestinely. We also think some just blended into US society permanently and cut their allegiance to Russia. And I'm sure there are several still hidden waiting to be activated. But there is a fourth group; this is the group that have decided to operate on their own with no allegiance to anyone.

"This is the type that you think Alex belongs to?"

George: "Yes, he is our only lead to this group. As far as we can tell, he doesn't know we are on to him. Your picking him up has put our operation at risk."

"Why didn't you tell us? I would have stayed clear."

George: "How were we supposed to know that your investigation would lead to Alex?"

"The connection is very tenuous. Two men tried to kill me, and we thought Salmonella was involved. Now we don't think he did, but we were already looking for the gunman that shot up the Bistro. I'm not sure there's a connection even now."

George: "We know that Alex has been in communication with someone in Sal's organization. I thought it might be Vince, but I guess you closed that door."

"I'm sure it wasn't Vince. How did you get on to Alex?"

George: "He came in from Greece, but the Greek government gave us a heads-up that he may have been an agent for the communist party during the Greek civil war. We did some checking into his background through the CIA and found he did have connections with Moscow. We think he was sent here to activate a cell, but instead turned it to his or someone else's purpose. The problem we have right now is that this is all speculation. We know Alex is a spy but not if he is with a sleeper cell.

"Wow, that's not much to go on. If you lose Alex, you got nothing. Do you know if he is still talking to his contact inside Sal's gang?"

George: "Yes, he got a call from the man yesterday. That's why we know it wasn't Vince. He disguises his voice so we can't get a voice recognition on him."

"Could it be a woman?"

George: "I guess. Do you have someone in mind?"

"Not really. I just don't want to rule anyone out."

George: "Well there you have most of it. The FBI is doing sweeps through the city trying to find anyone that might be a cell member, but it's a big city. Let us know if you come up with anything."

"I will. I should mention that I have this totally ungrounded hunch that Sal wants to hit the Federal Reserve Bank."

George: "I kinda got that impression when you asked about it. I checked the security myself, and I didn't see any weaknesses. Do you have anything at all to support your hunch?"

"Nope, not a thing."

George: "Sorry, Harv, but we can't go on your hunches."

"I know, but I wanted to at least mention it. If Sal does hit it, it'll make me look psychic."

George: "I can see psychotic, but not psychic. If you are, maybe you can do horoscopes."

"Great something to keep me busy after retirement."

George: "I gotta a go. Thanks for meeting me. Wait a while before you leave after me just in case. Oh, and shut up about Hoover."

"Thanks, George. I'll let you know of anything we find. Who's Hoover?"

George finished his drink then got up to leave the bar. Harvey sat staring at his beer, which he had taken only a sips out of. After about ten minutes, he took a deep draw on the beer then left as well.

Chapter 32:

"So how did it go last night?" Harvey was seated at his desk and JD had just entered the squad room.

JD: "Geez, can't I even get a cup of coffee first? What about your meeting last night?"

"Okay, get your frigging coffee. But, your story first."

JD walked over to the coffee machine, poured a cup, and came back to his desk, trying to drag it out as long as he could. "I picked her up, and we went dancing. Afterward, we went for drinks at a quiet bar, so we could talk. We made the usual small talk and, when she casually asked about the case, I told her that we had been ordered to back off our investigation of Sal by higher ups. She said that was too bad."

"Good it sounds like she bought it. I called the DA and asked him to mention that he was ordering us off of Sal's back to a couple judges he knew to be crooked. He said he knew exactly which judges to talk to. He was going to do that today. That will give Sal the same info from two independent sources. I just hope he takes the bait. Anything more from last night? Did you mention that we had evidence on Sal?"

JD: "No I didn't. There was no way I was going to be able to pass that nugget of info along without being obvious. I'll tell her on the next date. I have to admit that I had trouble hiding my anger. I asked about the comings and goings in the Wildcat, but she said she didn't really know anybody and thus didn't provide me with anything useful. I even tried to get her back to my apartment to have sex, but she wasn't buying. That only made me madder."

"Wait, you're mad at her and yet you were trying to have sex with her anyway? I don't think I get that."

JD: "I was thinking that I needed to get something out of being played for the fool. Sex seemed like a good payment. I don't think she ever planned to have a real relationship."

"JD, you're a handsome guy, and there are a lot of fish in the sea. I don't think you have to worry about getting more fish."

JD: "Yeah, I guess you're right. What about you?"

"I met with my FBI contact last night, and he gave me a run down on what they are up to. You have to keep this in strictest confidence. Okay? No telling Francis or anyone."

JD: "Get me a little credit, will ya?"

"A quick synopsis is that the man, Alex, we picked up is part of a communist sleeper cell here in the US that has decided to strike out on its own, like a rogue elephant. They know Alex is a spy from their connections in Greece, but he's the FBI's only lead. They know about the connection to Sal's gang, but the caller disguises his or her voice when calling. That's about it."

JD: "They have no clue as to who else is in the cell?"

"That's right."

JD: "Wow, that ain't much. Do you think they know more and aren't telling you?"

"It's possible. The FBI is doing sweeps through the city and checking records of anyone that has come into this area in the last 15 years. I would think that would be a monumental task. I wouldn't expect much from that unless they can tie it into one of the phone calls they have from or to Alex. At least they have the resources to do that; we don't. Those McCarthy hearings must have helped up their budget."

JD: "Too bad the Army stopped them."

"Boy, are your values out of whack. You and I need to have a heart-to-heart-one of these days."

JD: "This time let's not drink as much. Okay?"

"That I'll agree to." Harvey took a drink of coffee that he'd started fortifying again from his desk bottle. He had found it too hard to completely cut off the alcohol, so he decided he'd try to taper off.

JD: "What's on the agenda for today?"

"I had the six middle management types from Sal's gambling and prostitution operations brought down here from County and locked up in our holding cells. We're going to interrogate them one by one and see if any of them will turn on Sal. It wouldn't be a murder charge, and I'm not even sure we could get convictions, but if we can turn one or two of them, it would tie Sal up for months in legal battles and further disrupt his business."

JD: "I thought the DA wouldn't prosecute unless he was sure he could win?"

"You're right, so we need to make sure the cases look airtight, even if they aren't."

They brought up the first two men but neither would cooperate and screamed for their lawyer. Harvey had them taken back to their cells. The third man proved to be more interesting.

"Hello, Nick, long time no see." Nick Pascals: white male, 5 feet 8 inches, 180 pounds, late thirties, black hair, brown eyes, stocky but muscular build, and ugly as tree bark.

Nick: "Hello, Hollywood, hear you've been really busy lately."

JD: "Hence your presence here today, Nick."

Nick: "Hollywood, who's the youngster? Your son?"

JD: "I'm Detective Delany and you're not much older than me."

Nick: "But I betcha I've been around more."

"Okay, you're both real men. Can we get on with this? Nick, I want you to testify against Sal in court. We want to get him on racketeering charges."

Nick: "Okay, what's in it for me?"

Harvey was taken aback. "Why the change of heart? When we talked to you a few days ago, you clammed up."

Nick: "I've decided it's my civic duty to help rid this fair city of these criminal elements."

Harvey laughed. "No, really, why the change of heart?"

Nick: "That's my reason, take it or leave it. Now, what's in it if I testify? I want no jail time."

JD: "We can take that to the DA and see what he can offer."

"I think the DA would be willing to give you a minimum sentence and with time off for good behavior, you'd serve less than a year."

Nick: "Youse guys don't hear so well. I said no jail time."

"What have you got on Sal?"

Nick: "I don't talk until we get a deal."

JD: "What if your info isn't worth it?

Nick: "Oh, it's worth it. I can put Sal behind bars for many years. So do we have a deal or not?"

"Are you going to need protection? You know from Sal."

Nick: "No, I'm not worried about Sal. I don't need to be protected by a bunch of cops."

"Good. I'll have to contact the DA and see what he will offer. It'll take a few hours. We'll bring you back here when we have an answer."

Nick: "Okay. I need some more sleep anyway."

They had Nick taken back to his holding cell. Harvey said, "What the hell was that?"

JD: "Yeah, that didn't make sense. He doesn't strike me as the type that's afraid of some jail time, especially on such light charges. Whadaya think?"

"I think I want to find out who he's been talking to. Let's take a break so I can make a few calls plus I want to ask the DA what he'll give us on Nick."

JD: "It's about lunch time anyway. I'll go out and get some sandwiches from down the street."

"Here's a sawbuck. My treat."

JD: "Thanks." JD grabbed his hat and headed out.

Forty-five minutes later, JD returned with the sandwiches.

"Took your sweet time. Where's my change?"

JD: "You're welcome. Here's your change and sandwich. Find out anything?"

"Yeah, I did. I called County, and they said Nick had gotten two calls from a number in Chicago. The number was traced to a club frequented by the Chicago mob."

JD: "What do think they wanted?"

"I think they told Nick to roll on Sal. Nick originally came from the Chicago mob, which means he may have been there to report back to them on Sal's activities. Now it looks like they want Sal out and want us to do it for them. They must not think he'll talk, or they'd just kill him. Maybe he's too well protected, and they want us to bring him out, so they can get to him. I'm not sure what the motive is, but my bet would be that he's lost the backing of the Chicago mob."

JD: "That's good news for us. Then Nick won't be the only one turning on Sal."

"I agree. We still have three men in the holding cells. Let's see what they have to say."

JD: "Anything from the DA on Nick's deal?"

"I called but he wasn't in; his secretary will let him know I called."

The next man they interrogated responded as the first two and clammed up, but the fifth man wanted to talk, badly.

John: "I really can't do any jail time. I have a wife and two kids at home." John Neff: white male, 5 feet 9 inches, 205 pounds, early thirties, brown hair, brown eyes, slightly heavy build, and fair features.

JD: "Okay, let's hear your story."

John: "I'm just a bookkeeper and not a criminal. I just took this job to feed my family. I can't go to jail. Who'd take care of my family?"

JD: "If you testify against Sal in court, we could get you a light sentence."

John: "Sal'd kill my family if I did that, then me. I can't go against him."

"We can protect you and your family. Relocate you somewhere far away."

John: "I don't know."

JD: "We've done it for other people that have testified. If you don't testify, we can't do anything for you. You'll have to take your chances in court. You're looking at about five years in prison, maybe three with good behavior."

John: "I don't have any family around here. My wife can't make it on her own."

"Sorry, John, it's not up to us. Either testify or go to jail, your choice."

John: "Listen I need to think. Could my wife visit me here? I really need to talk to her about this."

"I understand. I'll have an officer pick her and the kids up and bring them down here."

John: "Thanks."

"Officer, take Mr. Neff back to his cell and bring up the last man."

The last man was brought up but also made like a clam. He was returned to his cell. Harvey went to his desk and asked County to come pick up the four men that were uncooperative. He also asked two officers to go pick up Neff's family and bring them down. JD and Harvey started writing the reports on the interrogations.

It was about an hour before the Neff family was brought in; it was the mother and two young boys about 6 and 4 years old.

"Officers, take Mrs. Neff to an interrogation room but have a matron frisk her first. Then get Mr. Neff and put him in the same room. Give them some privacy. Leave the boys with JD and me."

The younger boy went over to JD and the older to Harvey. He was sandy haired with light freckles and blue eyes.

"What's your name?"

James: "James but they call me Jimmy."

"Hi, Jimmy, I'm Harvey." Harvey shook his hand.

James: "Are you a police officer?"

"Yes I am, though I'm a detective police officer."

James: "Why is my daddy here? When can he come home?"

"He's just here to answer some questions and maybe help us. I hope he can come home soon."

Harvey let the child play with some of the items on his desk and tried to keep him occupied until the mother returned.

"Mrs. Neff, you have some very wonderful kids."

Mrs. Neff: "Thank you. I hope you work it so he can come home. We're kinda helpless without him there. Please take care of him."

"We will. Thank you for coming. Officer, please take her and the kids home." The officer that brought them in escorted them back out.

JD: "That's depressing as hell."

"Well the jerk should have thought of this before working for a criminal. It's not our fault if he's in trouble. Plus we are limited in how we can help him. We can't just let him go."

JD: "I know."

"Let's go talk to his dad and find out what he's decided."

JD and Harvey entered the interrogation room. John was seated at the table and it was obvious he had been crying.

"So, John, what's it going to be?"

John: "I don't have any choice. I'll testify. You have to protect my family."

"I want you to write out everything you know about Sal's operations, and I'll get on the phone to DA. When he agrees, we'll put your family under protective custody." Harvey handed him a piece of paper and a pencil, then left to call the DA again.

It took about another hour before the DA got back to him.

"Hi, Carl, I got two cases. One is a hardened criminal that will turn state's evidence, but I think he's taking orders from the Chicago mob. The other is a first time offender with a family that wants to stay out of prison. If I had to guess, I'd say the former would have the most damning evidence, but the family man would be the stronger witness. They are both pushing for no jail time. It's your call as to what you want to offer them for their testimony. I'm not sure what plea bargain you can get on these racketeering charges...okay, I'll wait here by the phone."

JD: "What did he say?"

"He said he has to check with one of the judges. He's not sure what the judge would agree to. There has been a lot of pressure to shut down racketeering in this town, and if the judges seem too lenient, they may be out of a job.

Harvey stayed at his desk as the afternoon drew to a close.

"JD, if you want to go home, you can. I can take it from here."

JD: "No, I'll stay. I have some work I want to get done anyway."

It was dark, when the phone finally rang. "Detective Halloway...yes, I got it...I'll make the offer."

JD: "What did he say?"

"The best he can do for Nick is a reduced sentence, two years and chance for early parole. For John, he is willing to give him no jail time and relocate him somewhere safe after testifying."

JD: "That's great."

"Well we can't get the relocation started tonight, everyone's already gone home. We'll get the family under protection first thing tomorrow and tell our detainees their deals tomorrow. It's been a good day. See you in the morning."

Chapter 33:

Next morning Harvey was on the phone when JD came in. Harvey said, "I just got the witness protection guys and they are going over now to pick up the family and squirrel them away some place safe. I'm having John brought up first. I thought he'd like to hear we got the deal."

John was already in the interrogation room when JD and Harvey entered and sat down.

"John, we have some good news. We got the deal for you. We are putting your family under protective custody and, after you testify, you will be located far away and safe."

John: "Thank God."

"You're going to have to stay in lock-up until the trial. You may have to testify in front of a grand jury as well. This means you'll be incarcerated for about 10 months until the trial is over." Harvey pushed a piece of paper in front of John. "This is your write-up about Sal's operation. You need to sign and date it, the original and carbons."

John signed and pushed the papers and pen back to Harvey.

"You'll be kept in isolation until the trial, but we'll arrange frequent visits from your wife and children during that time. They'll be kept in protective custody until your relocation."

John: "Thanks."

"Officer, you can take him back to the holding cell, then bring up Nick."

The officer took John's arm and led him away to the holding cell. Another officer walked up Harvey and said, "You have a call on your phone, Harv. They said it was urgent."

"Okay, I'll take it." He went to his desk to answer the phone.

"Hello, this is Detective Halloway...Oh God no...okay, I will."

JD: "Geez, Harv, you've gone white as sheet. What the hell's wrong?"

"That was the protection officer. He said that when they got to the Neff house everyone was dead, all shot in the head."

JD: "The kids too?"

"Yes, they were all in their beds. Looks like someone came in last night and used a gun with a silencer to kill them while they slept. Sal must have found out that we were making a deal with John. He must have wanted to make an example." The picture of the kids flashed in his mind, and he felt ill.

JD: "Hellava example."

"I guess we'll have to tell John. I mean I'll have to." The officer was just returning with Nick when Harvey stopped him. "I'm sorry officer, can you put Nick here in interrogation room 2 and go down and bring up Mr. Neff again to room 1."

Officer: "Yes, Detective."

As he was led to room 2, Nick yelled, "Hey screw, whada'bout my deal?"

JD walked up and said, "Harvey, I can be there with you when you tell John."

"No, I want you to get the nurse and have her bring a syringe and a sedative. I think John's going to need it."

Harvey stood there as John was brought up and into the interrogation room. He went in and sat down opposite him. "John, I have some terrible news. Last night your wife and kids were murdered."

John stared at him, then said, "What?"

"I said your wife and kids were murdered last night."

John: "But I just saw them. They were all right. They can't be dead."

"I'm sorry, John, but they're gone."

John in a rising voice, "You said you would protect them. You promised me they would be all right."

He leapt across the table and tried to grab Harvey's neck with his handcuffed hands. But Harvey had expected the move and had pushed back from the table. He got up and opened the door to let two officers and a nurse come into the room. The officers held him down while the nurse gave him a shot. JD walked in.

"I knew this was going to be bad. Sometimes I hate being a cop. Take him back to the holding cell and let him sleep it off."

JD: "I don't know how else you could have done it."

"I guess. I wouldn't want to be him when he wakes up."

Chapter 34:

Nick was resting comfortably in the interrogation room chair with his feet on the table. Harvey shoved them off and sat down.

Nick: "Looks like something bad going on here. You know these rooms aren't totally sound proof. I could hear some of what was going on. Looks like you may have lost one of your other witnesses. If that's true, then I may be you're only hope of getting Sal."

"Listen you piece of shit, I'd just as soon let you rot in prison than make a deal."

Nick: "But you're not; you want Sal too bad. What's the deal?"

"The DA said two years with early parole."

Nick: "My bargaining position has just recently improved, wouldn't ya say? No jail time I walk free. Period."

"I'll talk to the DA."

Nick: "You do that Detective. You talk to the DA. Hah."

Harvey opened the door and asked the officer to return Nick to his cell.

JD: "Don't you think John will testify against Sal now? After all Sal killed his family."

"Yeah, I suppose he will, but I wouldn't count on it. I've seen this before and I'm not sure John will be any good to anyone, even himself. We'll have to see how he handles this tragedy."

JD: "Are you going to call the DA about Nick's deal?"

"Yeah, I will. I'm going to recommend he make the deal. Nick's right. I want Sal bad, especially now. I think the DA will agree."

Harvey sat at his desk the rest of the day and tried to work. He kept seeing the kids in his mind and would mumble, "Why didn't I send an officer to guard them? Why'd I wait for morning?" He also kept taking shots from the bottle in his desk. JD began to worry.

JD: "Listen, Harv, we're pretty much done here and anything left I can take care of. Why don't you go home?"

"I don't want to go home. Why would it be any better alone in my apartment?"

JD: "Maybe you can get some sleep? You look exhausted."

"I'm fine. I just need to keep working; you know to keep my mind busy."

JD: "You're blaming yourself for something that isn't your fault. All you're going to do is drive yourself insane. Sal killed those kids; not you."

"Why didn't we send someone to watch over that family?"

JD: "This second guessing is bullshit. Stop doing it. THEY ARE DEAD, and driving yourself into a breakdown is not going to help anyone but Sal. We need you on top of your game to catch Sal. Or do you want him to get away with this? I'm sure these aren't the first innocent people he's killed, but maybe, just maybe, we can make it the last. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself."

Harvey looked up and stared at JD. "Okay, maybe you have a good point, not a great one, mind you, but a good one. I'm going home. See you in the morning."

Harvey grabbed his hat and walked slowly and somewhat unsteadily out of the station to his car.

Four hours later, Harvey woke up on his couch, wide awake. He actually felt better and well rested. Harvey thought that JD's comments, actually scolding, worked. He wanted to put Sal in prison for the rest of his life. Harvey sat there on the couch for a while trying to think of his next move, then he had an idea. He cleaned up, put on one of his few good suits, and left the apartment.

Harvey was seated at the table having a whiskey and soda. A man was on stage singing 'As Time Goes By.' An attractive cigarette girl came up to his table, and he bought a box. As she was getting his change, he put his hand on her leg and asked her when she got off. She said she was not allowed to date the customers. He knew she would say that because it was the line they're told to say when customers get fresh. When the singer finished the song, Harvey clapped loudly and whistled. His behavior finally caught the attention of the party on the third level.

One of the men from that booth came down to Harvey and said to him, "The boss wants to talk to you."

"Of course, I'd love to talk to him as well."

In the booth Sal was in the middle, an attractive girl on his left, Sadie on his right, and two more men on either side that Harvey recognized as Sal's top men.

"Hi, Sal, how are you doing?"

Sal: "I'm fine, Detective, but I think you've had too much to drink, and I wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself or the police department."

"Oh, I've only had a few drinks. I'm not drunk. Hey, where's Vince. Oh yeah, I put a slug in his heart. I'm sorry, Sal, were you and Vince close?"

Sal: "Still a smart ass. I wish Vince had killed you, you drunken sot. I'm not done with you yet."

"Done, done? Hell we've hardly started to dance." Harvey made like he's dancing around in circles.

Sal: "Throw this screw out."

"Sal, you haven't asked me why I'm celebrating?"

Sal: "Okay, screw, why?"

Harvey leaned on the table and stared straight at Sal. "Because we now have enough to put you away for long time, you slimy son-of-a-bitch."

Sal: "That's it, you God damn...."

Sadie: "Stop it Sal, don't you see. He's trying to get your goat, and you're falling for it. Let me handle him."

Sal: "I guess you're right. Nice try copper."

Sadie slid out of the booth showing lots of leg in the process and grabbed Harvey's arm. She wore a low cut red silk dress; oriental in style that clung tightly to her hips. Her hair was up. "Come on Detective. Let's talk."

She took him to the back of the club and into a private room. There was a large table with chairs all around it and a few floor lamps. There was a bar at the end opposite the door. Sadie went up to it and started pouring two drinks.

Sadie: "This is a conference room that we use for private discussions."

Harvey walked around looking in the corners and checking the lamps.

Sadie: "Don't worry Detective, no cameras, no listening devices. This is one room that we keep for conversations we want to keep private."

"Don't be too offended if I don't believe you." Harvey kept looking and when he felt satisfied, quit. "Okay, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Sadie: "Boy, you sobered up fast. I didn't think you were drunk. You don't seem the type to get that drunk."

"I don't want to destroy that good opinion you have of me, but you should have seen me last week with JD. We got blasted."

Sadie: "Okay maybe I meant usually don't get that drunk."

"You don't know anything about me, Sadie."

Sadie: "I think I know a lot more than you think. I've done my research on you. You are a very impressive person."

"My mom thought so, but I always thought she may be biased."

Sadie: "Modest too. You're just too good to be true. That Vicki's a lucky girl."

"How did you find out about Vicki anyway? Nobody knew about us except JD."

Sadie: "Oh we have our sources, but they're secret."

"You didn't bring me in here to make nice. Whadaya want?

Sadie: "I wanted to tell you that Sal actually admires you. He was against Vince trying to kill you. He even tried to stop him. But you are pushing Sal way too hard. He's going to deal with you, and I don't think you or your partner are going to be left standing. He still has a lot of men and resources. Don't underestimate Sal."

"The last thing I would ever do is to underestimate Sal. Why do I get the feeling that you're the brains behind the throne?"

Sadie: "Well, I don't want to toot my own horn, but Sal's not the sharpest tack in the box, and he can use all the help he can get. I help keep things moving."

"Should you be admitting this to me? Should I be trying to put you away instead of Sal?"

Sadie: "You can try, but I think you'll find that my name doesn't appear anywhere in Sal's organization. I'm just a friend of the owner."

"How good of friend are you?"

Sadie: "Not as good as I would like to be with you." Sadie moved up close to him, pushing her body against his. Harvey's mind went on automatic. He wrapped his arms around her pulling her tight against him and began passionately to kiss her lips, neck, shoulders passionately. Sadie responded in kind, returning his kisses aggressively. He moved his hands slowly down to her waist, then reached down to caress her between her legs. She was wet, dripping wet. Simultaneously Sadie was opening his zipper and unbuckling his belt. Harvey's pants dropped to the floor, and Sadie's panties soon joined them. He lifted her onto the table where he spread her legs and penetrated her. They made love hard, passionately, until they were both sated.

Sadie: "I guess you've changed your mind since last time."

"I don't know if I had, but you're hard to forget or ignore."

Sadie: "So are you."

"Now what do we do?"

Sadie: "We go back to our jobs."

"Sadie, have you ever thought of giving up this life and maybe settling down?"

Sadie: "And what? Become a housewife with kids running around? You've got to be kidding. Harvey, I'm here for you whenever you want me, but don't ever ask me to change."

"I thought it was worth a try. I would hate to find you in my crosshairs. After all, we are on opposite sides.

Sadie: "Let's say this was an armistice. We can always call another one."

Sadie pulled her panties on and straightened her dress and hair. "Time to rejoin the party. Bye, Detective." She opened the door and left.

Harvey pulled his underwear and pants back on and began cursing himself. "How could you lose control like that? If this gets out, I could be thrown off the case. Hell, I could be suspended. But on the other hand, that was fucking fantastic. And to honest with myself, I'll probably do it again if I get the chance."

Harvey left the Wildcat Club and went home. He'd done enough damage for one night.

Chapter 35:

On Saturday, Harvey wanted to go down to the Bayberry police station to talk to Jerome's replacement. This time JD came with him. On the way there, Harvey asked JD, "Do you carry a backup piece?"

JD: "Yes, it's a 25 caliber. Not powerful, but small, easy to conceal." He pulled up his pants leg to show a leg holster with the gun in it. "What about you?"

"Yes, I have a snub-nose 32 in my leg holster and a switchblade on my other leg. All officers carry an unregistered backup gun. The department tells us not to, but it's much too dangerous not have an alternative if something happens to your main weapon."

JD: "Why did you ask?"

"I wanted to make sure you had one, that's all."

JD: "Well don't worry, I do."

They arrived at the Bayberry Station 25; the sergeant told them to go right in. Harvey went to Jerome's old desk and a man Harvey didn't know was sitting there. When he saw Harvey, he stood up and held out his hand. "Hello, Detective Halloway. And this must be Detective Delany." He shook both their hands in a very friendly manner. "I'm Detective Dan Jones, most people call me Danny. I've heard a lot about you, all good." Dan Jones: Negro male, 6 feet, 205 pounds, mid-thirties, black hair, black eyes, heavy build, and rugged features, handsome.

"Thank you, Danny. Are you new here? I don't think we've met."

Dan: "Yes, I just transferred down from the Chicago police force. I actually grew up here and had always wanted to return. So I applied when I heard there were some openings. Oh, sorry. I'm very sorry your friend Jerome was killed. I know you two were close."

"Yes. He was a good man and fine officer. He'll be missed. Well, glad to have you on board. We came down here today to find out what is happening with the Morgan gang. Of course with Morgan dead we'll have to call it something else."

Dan: "I guess it's now the Garrett gang. Smiley Garrett has moved into the number one position since the top four or five were left open after the shooting."

"I am sure you're aware that we caught all the surviving gunmen."

Dan: "Yeah, that's good news. A lot of people were upset about that. What about the man that ordered it, Sal?"

"We haven't been able to get him on murder charges, but it looks like we have him on racketeering. A maximum sentence would put him away long enough to destroy his organization."

Dan: "That's also good, though I'd like to see him in the electric chair. I'm sure you would too. The Garrett gang is rebuilding right now, obviously. They have agreed to all of Sal's terms, with respect to the heroin trade and prostitution, but are harboring a deep hatred for Sal. Sal's not stupid enough to send any of his men into Bayberry, so he always meets them on neutral ground with lots of bodyguards."

"I would think there are a lot of colored people want him dead and would be willing to try to make it so."

Dan: "The best thing to come out of the shooting is that related crimes have dropped, though I'm sure they'll rise again as the gang regains its footing."

"Do you think they'll do something against Sal when they are back up to full speed?"

Dan: "My guess is: yes, they will. After all, the gang still knows Sal needs them more than they need him, and economics will produce another showdown someday."

"Well, thanks for the update. We thought since we are here we could help you with some cases."

Dan: "We're pretty caught up right now, but I appreciate the offer."

"Okay, then we'll head out. Nice meeting you."

JD: "Nice meeting you."

Dan: "Same for me." They shook hands all around.

Driving back to their station, Harvey said, "I don't know why, but warning bells were going off in my head when we were talking to Detective Jones."

JD: "Warning bells always go off in my head when I talk to coons."

"Okay, that's enough. For one, don't call colored people 'coons' it's derogatory, and second show some respect for your fellow officers. If you don't want to respect the person, then respect the badge. It's the same one you're wearing."

JD: "Geez, okay. Then what did you mean by your warning bells."

"I can't put my finger on it. It's like he's too smooth, too confident. Someone in his position, especially replacing someone killed in the line of duty, should be more introspect, I guess."

JD: "Maybe he's just a very confident coo...ah..colored person?"

"Maybe, but I'm not sure that's it."

Chapter 36:

First thing Monday morning, an officer came up to Harvey at this desk. "Harv, Mr. Neff managed to pull loose one of the metal studs in the bed webbing and used it to cut his throat. We already moved the body to the morgue and are cleaning the cell."

"Thanks officer. Hellava way to start a week." Harvey went down to John's holding cell passing Nick's cell on the way. Nick saw him and yelled, "Hey, copper, great job protecting his family. Now you know why I didn't want your protection. It ain't worth nuttin. Hah."

Harvey looked into holding cell to see a large pool of blood on the floor and arterial spray on the back wall. The bedding had already been removed and a member of the janitorial staff was mopping up the blood.

Nick: "Hey whada'bout my deal? Whad the DA say?"

"You got your deal. You testify; you're a free man."

Nick: "I told you. I knew you'd free me for Sal."

"I'll have an officer take you up to the interrogation room so you can write out as much as you can on Sal's operations."

Nick: "If I do that, how do I know you won't double cross me?"

"Listen, I don't like my integrity being questioned by some low-life scum. The deposition is useless without your testimony in court, so we still need you even with the write-up. It's used by the police and the DA to build a case. You'd better hope it's an airtight one, because if we don't get Sal, your deal may go bye-bye. Now shut up, before I lose my temper and just put a bullet in your brain pan."

Nick: "Oohh, ain't we testy. As long as I got my deal, you can call me anything you want, screw."

Harvey walked back upstairs. JD was at his desk.

"John Neff killed himself in his cell over the weekend. It's a mess down there; blood everywhere. Don't go down there."

JD: "I've seen plenty of blood without going out of my way. Too bad, he seemed like a nice guy."

"Yeah, for a criminal."

JD: "What are we doing today?"

"We need to get out and talk to our snitches. I want to know what Sal's up to. I've already told you that you don't need to say anything to Francis about having enough evidence to bring Sal in. I kinda let that cat out of the bag when I was at the Wildcat a couple nights ago. Are you going to see her again?"

JD: "No I don't think I will. I really lose it when I think of it."

"JD, get over it. Move on."

JD: "I guess. You didn't tell me that you were at the Wildcat Club."

"Have I not been reporting my every move to you? Sorry."

JD: "Hey, was Sadie there? Boy, she is a looker."

"Yes, she was there with Sal. I agree, she is attractive."

JD: "I'd love to get up her dress."

"Shut up about Sadie."

JD: "What's your problem? I'm sure you are thinking the same thing."

"Let's stick to your jobs today, okay?"

JD: "Geez, okay, I'll head out now." JD left, and Harvey followed soon after.

Harvey returned by late afternoon; JD was still out. Harvey sat down to write up what he'd found out and was about half way through his summary when JD showed up.

"JD, since you're just coming back, I'll go first. Everything on the street says that Salmonella is in trouble. The Chicago mob's lost confidence in him. It looks like he's planning something big, probably to buy his way into a new life. Whadaya find?"

JD: "About the same, everyone seems to think that Sal's got a large operation in the works. You think it's the Fed Bank?"

"Yeah, or something similar. The thing is if he did pull this off, he'd have way too much heat on him to stick around here. He must have been thinking of bailing out for quite a while. Why else would he have brought Victor in? "

JD: "Well, I guess we helped make up his mind."

"Another thing, Nick signed his deposition, and I had him transferred to a more secure location until the hearings."

JD: "Can't say I'm sorry to see him go. When can we arrest Sal?"

"It's going to take a while. I think the DA wants to make a strong case before he shows his hand. It might take a month."

For the rest of the day and the next two days, the two detectives worked on routine police matters, but always kept checking the word on the street for Sal's move. Late on the second day, Harvey's phone rang. "Hello, Detective Halloway speaking...oh, it's you...yeah I can meet tonight, same place...okay see you there."

JD: "Who was that?"

"My contact at the FBI, he wants to meet tonight. He said he has information on the commies."

Harvey was already at the Irish Revolution when George came in.

"Hi, George, what are you drinking?"

George: "Erin, bring me a scotch and soda neat, okay?"

Erin: "You got it."

George: "Hi, Harv, you doing okay?"

"I'm fine, but it has been a rough few weeks. What have you got?"

George: "We got lucky. One of the phone numbers used to call Alex was traced to a house that is a meetinghouse for immigrants to get together and talk. We think the man running it is a spy. He came from England during the War, but his original nationality on his entry form was not true. We contacted MI6 who said that he was considered a suspicious person while he was there, and passed the info on to our CIA when he moved here. Nice of the CIA to let us know, the assholes. We put him under surveillance but haven't managed to identify any other member of the cell. We can't move on him because, as far as we can tell, he hasn't done anything illegal, plus we want to catch the other members. So many immigrants come and go out of the place it's been hard to spot anyone suspicious. You might say they're all suspicious."

"But that's still good. At least you have another lead. If anything goes down you will know at least two of the cell and where they would meet."

George: "Yeah, that's true. It just seems like it's taking a long time to nail these guys."

"Any leads on the inside man in Sal's gang?"

George: "No, nothing. Anything for me?"

"Yes, we know that Sal is going to pull a large job very soon. I still think it will be the Federal Reserve Bank. I need you to be ready in case it is. I don't want to put the soldiers guarding it in danger, but I want to make sure the crooks get away with the gold. We need to follow the truck back to the distribution point and nab all of them for robbery. If we stop them before the robbery, we will only have minor charges to book them on, but after the robbery with the gold, we have a strong case and can put them away for quite a while."

George: "I guess we can do that. How much warning will we have?"

"Very little. You may want to set everything up in advance. The guards can defend themselves, but they have to let the truck go. But I wouldn't tell the guards in advance until the last minute in case one of them is an inside man for Sal."

George: "I think I'll replace the guards with hand picked men from the FBI for now. So you still feel this is the target?"

"Yeah, I do."

George: "I guess that will have to do. I will set things up. What about your men?"

"Mine will be handpicked also from mine and other stations. I will have every road into and out of the Fed Bank covered. We'll have a good tail on them no matter which way they go. I'm still hoping that our contacts on the street can give us some warning far enough in advance, but I'm not counting on it. Sal's played this very close to the chest so far, and he not likely to let anything out until he has to."

George: "I guess we'll just have to wait until something happens. It seems strange Sal would do this when he'd been under such scrutiny recently."

"I don't think he has any choice. We're pressing him with racketeering charges and the Chicago mob wants him gone, so he has to make a move soon."

The men talked small talk for another hour then George left. Harvey followed him out 15 minutes later.

Chapter 37:

In the squad room the next morning, JD asked, "How did it go last night?"

"I told him that Sal was up to something and that I still think it's the Fed Bank. I asked him not to set a trap there, but to let the truck get away with the gold. That way we can grab them all, including Sal, at the distribution point. He's replacing the guards with his own men. I told him we'll be covering all the roads around the bank so we can tail them back to Sal. I hope we don't screw this up. That'd be $10 million in gold gone."

JD: "They'd take it out of your salary."

"So much for retirement. I've already contacted the men I need for the tails, so once we find out it's on, we move."

JD: "Anything from his side."

"He said he has located another member of the cell and maybe a meeting place. That's all."

JD: "Better than nuttin."

The rest of the day was uneventful, but at 5 PM the next day, Harvey's phone rang. "Hello, this is Detective Halloway...Tonight?...Who is this?" He hung up.

JD: "Who was that?"

"I don't know. Their voice was disguised. All they said was 'Sal's gang is going to hit the Federal Reserve Bank tonight after midnight.'"

JD: "Do you believe it?"

"What choice do we have? Let's go. We need to call the officers and tell them to be at their positions by 10 tonight. We also need to give them the frequency to use on their car radios. I'll let my contact in the FBI know."

For the next several hours, JD and Harvey worked putting in place the arrangements they had made. Harvey had recruited 20 officers to be placed at pre-arranged positions around the Fed Bank. As the truck was being followed, all of them would converge on its location until they reached the final destination. George had also enlisted 10 FBI agents, heavily armed, to be ready to move when he gave them the word. Harvey was expecting Sal to be using about eight men for the robbery; half of which would have Thompsons. Sal would have another half dozen men at the warehouse for the distribution. Harvey believed that Sal would take the lion's share of the gold and take off for some distant corner of the world where he wouldn't be found by cops or criminals.

Just before 9, JD and Harvey set out to meet George at a rendezvous point near the bank. George was waiting for them when they arrived. Harvey had his Thompson and JD was carrying a shotgun.

"George, what are you carrying?"

George: "I have this." He pulled a 1911M1 45-caliber automatic from his shoulder holster.

"That's not standard issue."

George: "I know, but it has a seven-round clip and great stopping power."

"Good point."

They climbed up the fire escape to the top of a building that overlooked the FRB. George and Harvey had high-powered binoculars, and JD carried a portable police radio. Once they were in position, they looked down upon the bank. The bank was located on a two-acre plot with about a third of that marked off by metal fencing with barbwire along the top. An access road ran from Calvert Road to a guard box to the left of a gate leading through the fencing. One guard was stationed at this box. At each corner of the fenced area were four very bright lights that lit up the compound and most of the surrounding area. The access road ran through the gate to a graveled area obviously used for parking; containing only one car. Two guards were patrolling around the building. Buildings surrounded the two-acre plot, and the three men were positioned on the roof of one the buildings.

"I'd scouted this location out earlier. It gives us a good view of three sides of the bank. It's one of these that they will hit. What about your men?"

George: "I have six of my men inside the bank, but they will only come out if the soldiers are in danger of being killed. They'll join us when the robbers leave."

"Good. JD, contact each of the checkpoints and make sure they are in place."

JD stared calling on the radio to make sure all ten two-man checkpoints were in place and ready to go.

George: "I guess now we just settle down and wait for the robbery."

"We have at least two hours. The person that gave us the heads up on this disguised his voice with a scrambler of some type. Was that what you heard on the wire tap?"

George: "Yep. There's no way to figure out who it is. Apparently they're our ally, or just not a fan of Sal's. Still it seems strange as to why they would give us a warning of the robbery. There must be something in it for them."

"I agree. How does this help a commie cell?"

George: "I have no idea."

They then waited for something to happen and something did. At exactly 2 AM, the lights around the bank went out.

"Looks like it's starting. JD, notify the check points." Harvey was looking through the binoculars. It's hard to see anything, but I think there are two men approaching the fence and there is a truck on Calvert Road."

George: "I see them."

Suddenly there was a flash followed quickly by the sound of an explosion.

"They blew the fence and there goes the truck."

The truck drove across the open space and right through the hole blown in the fence. Three men jumped out and began spraying automatic weapons fire toward the guards at the front of the building. The guards returned fire. The back doors to the truck opened up and two men jumped out. Harvey could see them putting something against the outside wall; they were using lights to illuminate the area. When the men were clear, there was another flash and the sound of an explosion. The truck backed up to the opening and two more men jumped out, and all four went through the blast hole. The firefight was still going on but no one had been hit, as far as Harvey could tell. Harvey could see that something was going into the back of the truck through the hole, the gold. This had taken only a matter of minutes, and Harvey and George were impressed by the efficiency. One of the guards was hit and went down, the others dragged him back out of the firing line; then one of the gunmen went down. The loading went on for several more minutes, though how much gold had passed into the truck was hard to determine. Finally, the truck doors were shut, and all the men still outside piled back into the truck, which immediately took off for the main road.

"JD, the truck is heading south on Calvert. Have checkpoint 2 pick them up."

JD: "They're on it. They are trailing the truck. It's not moving fast nor taking evasive actions."

"They think they got away clean. Have check point 4 move over and pick up the tail at Frederick Street."

JD: "Okay."

"George, let's move down to our cars. We want to be there when they get to their final destination."

All three men ran for the fire escape and headed down it as fast as they could. When they got to the bottom, they all piled into Harvey's car, and he started heading south on Calvert as well.

JD: "The truck just turned left on Pine and is now heading east. All units, head that way on parallel routes."

"Have checkpoint 8 replace checkpoint 2 as the tail when they pass New Hampshire Avenue."

JD: "All units, the truck turned south on Springfield Avenue."

"He's headed for the warehouse district. Not too surprising."

This went on for another twenty minutes until the truck pulled up to a gate leading to a non-descript warehouse. A man opened the gate, and the truck drove through. A large sliding door opened in the side of the warehouse, and the truck drove inside as the door was slid shut again.

Unit 6: "All units converge on 5561 Bonneville Road. The truck is inside the warehouse there."

George, JD, and Harvey drove up to the warehouse and saw all their units there including that from the FBI. They already had the man at the gate in custody.

"Units 1, 2, 3, and 4 go around back and come in through that way. I'll give you four minutes to get into position. All other units, we're going in through the front. Let's check the door."

George: "It's locked from the inside but we can blast it open when we're ready."

Harvey looked at his watch. "Blast away."

Two men with Thompsons opened up on the lock and blew it to pieces. Two other men slid the door open, and all of them entered with their guns ready. Inside were the truck and 10 men frozen in the process of moving the gold into four cars. The units sent from the back came up behind them. Everything stopped.

"This is the police, nobody do anything stupid. We have more than twenty guns on you."

One of the robbers standing guard began to bring his shotgun up, but two shots rang out. The robber flew backwards a good ten feet into a stack of boxes, and then laid still. The rest of the robbers immediately dropped what they were holding and put their hands up, yelling, "Don't shoot."

Harvey looked to his right, and George was holding his smoking 45-caliber automatic.

George: "I told you it had hitting power."

They rounded up all the men including Sal, who was hiding in one of the cars. He had tried to lie on the floor of the car in hopes he could make his escape later but was spotted almost immediately.

"Hi, Sal, looks like you're in a lot of trouble."

Sal: "I'm not in jail yet. My lawyers will get me out."

"I don't think they will this time. You're going away for a long time. Bye, Sal. Take him away."

George: "Well, that sounded very satisfying."

"It was."

Chapter 38:

Harvey came into the squad room as happy as a jaybird. He was even whistling, though badly. JD came in soon after in a similar mood, but without the whistling.

JD: "You should stop that, you're not very good at it."

"You're right. Today we get to interrogate our haul from last night including the big cheese, Salmonella. This pretty much means that his gang will be out of commission for a while. The Chicago mob may try to take over his operations. They wanted to for a long time, but he was too powerful to be pushed out of his home turf. Now with him out, they have a chance. We'll have to keep an eye on who comes into town. I don't want them setting up shop down here."

JD: "Seems to me they have a lot of their men down here already."

"You know I felt a little suspicious of Detective Jones. Well, I called my contacts in the police force up there, and they informed me that he has been bought by the Chicago mob and not to trust him. That may help explain how they plan to move in on Sal's territory. Without the colored gangs giving them trouble, they would be free to take over all Sal's operations."

Harvey's phone rings. "Hello, this is Detective Halloway...What? Now?...Yeah, I know the place...I'll be there in twenty minutes."

JD: "What's up?"

"That was George. He seemed upset and wanted to talk to me now."

JD: "I guess I'll start processing the prisoners. See you later."

Harvey grabbed his hat and headed for his car.

Harvey and George were seated at a booth in a café. George had picked one as far from anyone as they could get; he didn't want any of what he was about to say get out.

George: "Harv, this has to be kept in strictest confidence. You can't even tell JD. You can make up something but don't tell him what I'm about to say."

"Wow, George, sounds serious."

George: "It's very serious. Last night while we were grabbing Sal and his gang, one of DOD's contractor's was robbed. At 2 AM last night, someone broke into a government defense contractor located on the edge of this city. They used a shaped charge to blow a hole into a secured area and then took plans for the new intercontinental ballistic mission being developed there. It was very top secret and its theft puts our nation at risk."

"Well, now we know why someone gave us the warning about Sal hitting the FRB. It was to distract us from another robbery on the other side of town. We had almost all our men dedicated to the bank job. This was very clever and very well executed. Do you think it was the commie cell that Alex is part of?"

George: "Yes, we do. There was considerable phone activity leading up to the robbery, but we didn't put the pieces together until after the robbery took place. We managed to break their phone code once we knew what they were talking about. There's no doubt they did the job."

"To bad you didn't figure it before hand."

George: "Yeah, no kidding. We believe the plans will be taken back to the meetinghouse. The trouble is that if we raid the place and they aren't there, then the cell will scatter to the four winds along with the plans. But if we don't find them, they will probably be out of the country within 72 hours."

"And go to whom?"

George: "We think the highest bidder. That may be Russia but it could be France or China or any other power with visions of grandeur and enough money. They may even sell them back to us."

"So what are you going to do? And why tell me?"

George: "We need your help. Not only your expertise in solving crimes like this but because you know the members of Sal's gang."

"There aren't many around anymore. I'm sure some of his underbosses like Fredo or Arturo will step into Sal's shoes to keep things running until they decide on a new boss. But they've been with Sal a long time."

George: "We need to find out where the plans are and hopefully grab the members of the cell."

"George, you're going to have to let me think about it, and maybe I can come up with something. You think they have it some place secure right now and won't move it again until they are ready to either take it out of the country or give it their highest bidder?"

George: "Yes, they aren't going to risk moving it now unless they have to."

"I may have an idea. Let me make a call."

Harvey got up and went to the phone booth at the other end of the café; five minutes he was back in his seat.

"I just called JD and asked him to join us."

George: "What? I thought I said we had to keep this just between us."

"I know you did, but, if my idea's going to work, we need JD. JD is dating a young girl who works at the Wildcat Club, and we know that she is passing information from him to Sal, so I thought maybe if he tells her that I'm working with the FBI and that I'm going out with them later tonight to raid a commie cell. It may get to back to the plant in Sal's group that gave us the info on the bank robbery."

George: "Why would that person still be there? Their job is done."

"I know, but I can't think of any other way to get them to move the plans."

George: "Okay, Harvey, seems pretty thin, but I'm willing to play your hunch, seeing as how you were right about the Reserve Bank. I still think it's at the meetinghouse."

"I agree and you should cover that place. If this works, at least some of the group will be coming there as soon as they get the word the FBI is coming. I'm going to hang around the Wildcat Club to see if I can spot anybody that looks like they're headed out in a hurry."

The two men continued to make plans on how they would spring the trap until JD finally arrived.

"JD, you've already met my old friend and FBI contact, George Gregory. I'll let George tell you what's going on. That way I don't divulge a national secret, George will."

JD: "Nice to meet you again Agent Gregory." JD sat down in the booth.

George: "Just call me George and I'll call you JD, okay? Your partner has come up with a plan to help us smoke out a communist sleeper cell located here in the city. One of the cell members, maybe even the leader, is a member of Sal's gang, and we're sure he wasn't picked up in the round up last night. Harvey says you have a girlfriend that passes information from you to the gang. Is that right?"

JD: "Thanks, Harv, I thought that was our secret. I feel stupid enough without telling the damn FBI."

"JD, I think your pride is going to have to take a back seat to national security. So swallow it and answer the man."

JD: "Yes, I was, am, dating a girl name Francis Durand. It's been a week since we went out though."

George: "I want you to go out with her and tell her discreetly that your partner, Harv here, is going out tonight on some FBI raid to round up a commie cell. After a decent amount of time, cut the date short and take her home."

JD: "How do I do that without looking suspicious?"

"Making yourself sick would be good way. Take her to dinner and then say it was something you ate or drank. There's a number of ways to induce vomiting. I'm sure you'll think of something."

JD: "When should I say this raid is happening?"

George: "Say the raid is set for just before dawn. That'll give them enough time to get to the meeting place and remove the plans."

JD: "Just to let you two know I'm not stupid. I know there is more to this than just picking up a sleeper cell, but I won't ask for details. I really hate to see her again. It's hard to hide the anger some times."

"I have faith in your acting abilities."

JD: "Thanks."

"JD, why don't you call right away and just tell her you've been very busy lately; she'll know you were working on the bank robbery. And now that it's over, you can spend time with her."

JD: "Okay, but you guys owe me."

"What? For forcing you to go out with a really pretty girl? Come on."

The group broke up to go about setting up their respective assignments.

Chapter 39:

Harvey had been sitting in the unmarked police car for over three hours. An hour earlier a light shower had come through wetting everything including Harvey who had been relieving himself in the bushes next to his car. The rain cooled things off a little but made the night very muggy with a light fog. He was closely watching the brightly lit front entrance to the swank apartment building that Sadie lived in. The doorman was sitting on a stool just inside the front entrance and looked to be asleep. Harvey also had a clear view of Sadie's car, which told him she was probably upstairs. He had hated lying to George, but this was very personal, and he wanted to deal with this himself.

It was close to 2 AM, and he was beginning to have doubts about his hunch, when he saw Sadie approach the front door. She was wearing a dark hat pulled down and a dark trench coat. The doorman sprung to life and opened the door for her. Harvey started his car. Sadie got into her car and started driving. Harvey had broken the red cover glass over one of the rear light, so the car would be easy to track in the dark.

Sadie headed north, and Harvey stayed back a ways. The traffic was light but enough to give him cover. He wasn't going to underestimate Sadie. She finally pulled up near the train station, and Harvey followed suit. She got out of her car and went into the station with Harvey following discreetly. She went straight to the lockers, opened one, and removed a leather carrying bag. Harvey then left. As Sadie approached her car, she looked up and saw Harvey leaning against it, smoking a cigarette.

"Hello, Sadie."

Sadie: "Hello, Harvey." She looked around. "Are you alone?"

"Yes. What's in the bag?"

Sadie: "Just some personal items."

"Personal items you just had to have at 2 in the morning?"

Sadie: "I'm taking a plane in the morning and needed to pick these up."

"Where are you flying to?"

Sadie: "I have a ticket for Rio. I'm going on vacation, after what happened to Sal."

"Yeah, I guess your meal ticket is in jail. Mind if I look in the bag?"

Sadie: "Well, yes, they are very personal."

"I guess you can say that. I'm betting there are blueprints in that bag, and they don't belong to you."

Sadie: "Harvey, you're very smart for a cop. Listen, maybe we can make some sort of deal. I have a buyer willing to pay me $15 million dollars for what's in this bag. Why don't we go get the money together? You'd have me and the money." She had been moving closer to Harvey as she spoke and was now almost against him.

"I'm sure you're well aware of your appeal, and I would be stupid if the offer didn't appeal to me on some level, actually about waist level. But I'm not sure that would be a good idea."

She was now up against him and rubbing his shoulder. She rose up to kiss him on the lips. "There must be some way I can convince you. I know you want me and have feelings for me." She put her left hand behind his head and pulled his head toward her to kiss him.

Harvey grabbed her right hand and brought it up to look at it. The hand held a long stiletto. "Were you kissing Victor when you plunged this into his body?"

Sadie: "Actually I was. How did you know?"

"On the night Victor was killed, you took a taxi home, so that you would be able to say you were at home. But you called Victor later and probably told him that you had reconsidered and asked that he meet you on the sidewalk outside his row house. It was late enough in that neighborhood no one would be around to see you. I can just imagine you running up to him and telling him whatever he wanted to hear. Then you kissed him and stabbed him with this."

Sadie: "That's pretty good."

"What was the fight about at the Bistro?"

Sadie: "Victor was getting a conscience. He wanted to go to the police and tell them what Sal was up to. He said he would take care of me, that we could move away and get married. Of course, I couldn't let him stop Sal. I needed him to commit the robbery."

"Yes, it was excellent cover."

Sadie: "Why did you suspect me?"

"Just a few things coming together. I wondered why a man would use a scrambler to disguise his voice. It's easy to disguise one's voice, use a loud whisper or a falsetto. But then I thought maybe it was used more to conceal one's sex. That said it was a female. I also wondered who in Sal's organization would be doing this. Sal's close cronies were all friends from the old days, and I found it very hard to accept that one of them was a commie spy. On top of that, these guys are not the sharpest tacks in the box. I didn't think any of them had the brains to pull this off."

Sadie: "You are right about that. They were a dumb bunch. That's very good logic. But how did you know that I would come out for the plans tonight?"

"Francis. When I found her name on the mailbox of the place from which Stratos' house was called. I made the connection. She isn't Sal's snitch, she's your's. You told Sal and Vince about Vicki, I could see you using Sal and Vince against me through her. But then you brought her name up when we had our little carnal encounter at the club. I thought why would Sal tell you? "

Sadie: "Very clever. You know I told Francis not to call that number, but she said it was important. Luckily the FBI didn't pick up on it. She's actually my niece. We changed her name when she came here with us. She was just a child then."

"Did you kill the men that the Chicago mob had sent down for the robbery?"

Sadie: "Yes, I did that one personally. I like to keep my skills up."

"But why? I thought they were here to help with the robbery?"

Sadie: "At first, but Gambini was beginning to think it was a bad idea, that it would bring every Fed from miles around into town. He was planning to report this back to his boss in Chicago, but I decided he shouldn't. After killing them, it was easy to convince Sal that the Morgan gang had done it."

"Wow, you are one scary woman. What about your comrades in the commie cell? Looks like you were going to run out on them."

Sadie: "Well that's true. I switched the bags when they weren't looking. They took some blue prints of a house and hid them in a meetinghouse we use sometimes. I called to tell them that they needed to move the plans because the FBI was going to raid them. I thought it would provide me with a distraction."

"So you threw them to the wolves, or FBI in this case. One other thing, I've wondered about that night you came to my apartment. You really managed to get under my skin. It was very hard to turn you away."

Sadie: "If you hadn't we wouldn't be here right now. I was going to kill you the same way I killed Vince, but you pushed me away before I could."

"I guess that means you were behind the other two attempts on my life."

Sadie: "Yes, I set those up."

"But why? It wouldn't have stopped the investigation if I'd been killed."

Sadie: "Well, lover, it wasn't' personal. I'd checked on you, and you have a reputation for closing cases, which meant you would be dogged in your investigations. I didn't want it leading back to me. I knew Sal would get most of the heat. But I was also trying to buy time. We were close to hitting the bank, and your death would have stalled the investigation."

"Why not kill me at the club?"

Sadie: "Way too many people saw us go into the back. I would have been the only suspect. Plus, I actually wanted to have sex with you by that time. You got under my skin too. You sure you don't want to go with me and be rich?"

"That's a strange thing to ask as I'm holding your hand with a stiletto in it that was meant for me. If I went with you, eventually another knife would find its way into one of my vital organs. I could never relax. If I was smart, I'd go with you, get the money, then kill you. But that would be just as hard to do. So I think we'll go with the prison option."

Harvey pulled both her hands behind her back and put them in handcuffs. He took the knife in his handkerchief and wrapped it up. He was hoping that some of Vince's blood was still on it. As he was doing this, he could smell the lavender and feel the heat from her body, and he wanted to grab her and kiss her all over. Here was a beautiful woman in handcuffs and helpless; his heartbeat was increasing and was flushed. He fought to regain control and walked her down to his police car to put her in the back seat.

While they were driving to the police station, Sadie said, "What if I tell the police about our 'little carnal encounter' as you put it?"

"It would be the word of a murderer and commie spy against a hero police officer. I would just say that you were trying to destroy the man that caught you. Anyway most of the policemen would be happy for me if I did have sex with you."

Sadie: "Typical males."

Harvey had Sadie booked and placed in a holding cell at the station. He then went to meet George at the meetinghouse stakeout. When he arrived, he joined George watching the building.

"How is it going?"

George: "Several men have gone into the building, but no one has come out yet. We plan to grab anyone that comes out and search them for the plans."

"You don't have to worry about the plans. They're in here." Harvey handed George the bag that he'd taken off Sadie.

George: "What the hell, Harvey? How'd you get them?"

"It's a long story, but essentially Sadie Mitchell had them."

George: "Who's Sadie Mitchell? Why do I get the feeling you haven't been totally forthcoming with me?"

"Well, maybe I didn't tell you a few key things. But you did get the plans back and you can probably go ahead and raid this meetinghouse. I would think that anyone in there now is a member of the cell."

George: "You are really in trouble. Withholding information on a federal case!" George grabbed the radio. "All units converge on the building. Arrest anyone you find. We'll sort them out at HQ." George then gave Harvey a harsh look that made him cringe.

Epilogue:

Six weeks later, Harvey was at his desk, and JD was across from him. Both were in their dress blues having just come from an awards ceremony.

JD: "Well, Harv, how does it feel to be a hero?"

"You got a commendation, so how's that feel?"

JD: "Nice, but you got a medal. Two actually, you got another one from the FBI that you can't show anyone. Hero Halloway. Has a nice ring to it, don't ya think?"

"Not to my ears. How about we drop it?"

JD: "Geez, Harv, let's wallow in the glory for a least a little while."

A couple of their fellow officers walked up to them and congratulated both of them.

JD: "See, we're famous."

"Maybe for a week. But next week, we'll be just plain detectives again."

JD: "How are you and George doing? Have you kissed and made up?"

"Let's just say he's cooled considerably and is talking to me again. But I think I still have a lot of work to do building our friendship back up again."

JD: "Why did you keep that info from George?"

"I was very attracted to Sadie, and I think I was hoping I was wrong about her in spite of my instincts saying otherwise. I decided if she was guilty that I would bring her in myself. And I did."

JD: "Well you really pissed off the FBI. They had trouble deciding whether to give a medal or arrest you. I'm glad you got the medal, though I think arresting a detective who was a hero would have been bad for public relations. They must still think highly of you, though I'm not sure how much they'll trust you in the future."

"It was not one of my brighter moves."

JD: "How are you going to react when they give Sadie the chair?"

"I don't know if they will execute her or not. It's hard for men to sentence such a beautiful woman to death. She may get life in prison."

JD: "Wishful thinking. She'll be convicted of first degree murder and spying for a foreign power, both death penalty offences."

"I guess we'll have to wait and see."

JD: "Funny thing about Sal, uh?"

"Yeah, I heard they've arrested a colored inmate at County for the murder. He had the shiv that killed Sal, which is strange since he should have dumped it after the stabbing. I have a hunch there is more to this than just a colored man getting revenge for the Bayberry murders. My guess is that either he had inside help or that one of the guards did it and this guy's a fall guy."

JD: "Well, I don't think Sal'll be missed by the police or criminals."

"I think that is a safe thing to say."

JD: "What about you and Vicki? Seen her lately."

"Well that's gotten a little more complicated. Sadie, just to get back at me a little, called Vicki from her lockup just to tell her that we had had sex at the club."

JD: "Wow, you had sex with Sadie? You lucky dog!"

"I think you're missing the point here. Vicki is really mad at me. I'm working very hard to get back in her good graces, and I may have to do a long period of penance before I get there. But I think there's hope."

JD: "Why didn't you tell me that you'd had sex with Sadie? I'm your partner. Why didn't you just lie to Vicki?"

"First off I really didn't want it to get out. Like I said: it's not one of my finer moments. As to Vicki, I just couldn't lie to her. Even though she was really pissed, Vicki said she would keep it secret. You have to as well."

JD: "I will. Well, at least Sadie is not going to be a rival for your affections since she won't be getting out anytime soon."

"I guess I can always visit her in prison. Enough of Sadie. What about you, seeing anyone?"

JD: "I go out every now and then but nothing to write home about."

Harvey's phone rings. "Hello, Detective Halloway...Thanks, I had a lot of help...yes, I remember...well, that IS interesting." Harvey hung up and looked pensive.

JD: "What was that all about?"

"Do you still have your back-up gun?"

JD: "Of course." He put his leg upon the desk and pulled up his pants leg. There was a 25-caliber gun in the leg holster.

"That's unusual to wear your backup with your dress blues."

JD: "Let's just say I feel naked without at least one gun."

"That was the ID department. You know that young girl they pulled out of the river yesterday."

JD: "Yeah, the Jane Doe."

"Well, not anymore. It was Francis Durand. Someone put a 25 caliber slug into the back of her head and dumped her into the river like a piece of garbage."

JD: "Wow that's sad. She was so young and pretty. Why did you want to see my gun?...Wait a minute, you think I killed her."

"You did say how much you hated her several times."

JD: "Harv, you've got to believe me; I would never kill anyone like that. It sounds more like a gangland execution. They use 25s all the time for that. I might have hated her, but not enough to put my career in jeopardy."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

JD: "Wooh, don't scare me like that."

"That's funny. I seem to remember that the gun you showed me a couple months back had a black grip; that one has a brown grip."

THE END

