Rigor MortisChapter 2
- 4 years ago
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I knew I should be working on running down the leads in Raymond’s unfortunate demise despite my Uncle’s reluctance to stir things up.
It was like we had stepped on an ant-hill with all the Internal Affairs sleazebags poking their noses into the everyday happenings of operational policing.
I had to admit it was well within the realm of probability that Raymond’s death was linked to the investigation work he was doing for me on the Donnie Anderson case. Of course that narrowed down the list of suspects to only the people he had already contacted because my Uncle and I had kept it pretty much to ourselves because of the possibility there might be “dirty” cops involved.
Then again, I had my own suspicions of Raymond’s level of dirtiness and it might turn out that he was the victim of his own buddies shutting his mouth permanently because he knew too much to be allowed to talk to some wise-guy in the Internal Affairs unit.
Fortunately, my “Red” had a few days off from her job at the nursing home and I had promised her a trip up to Niagara Falls for sightseeing and not for any marital reasons. She had hinted we could turn it into an unofficial honeymoon but I managed to change the subject quickly because there is a big difference between being a bachelor at large and running home at night to the wife and kids changing the whole fabric of one’s existence.
At least it was good to get a break from the pressures of finding the bad guys and closing cases that demanded full attention.
The newspaper was filled with rank speculation about a high-up connected guy that was under lock and key in the tombs. He was a Brooklyn wise-guy and a “made” man, so it hard for me to wrap my head around his arrest in the first place because the shit was about stuff that had happened at least three prosecutors ago and was centered around extortion and arson cases that the insurance companies had written off a couple of decades ago.
Nothing about the criminal justice system surprised me any longer and I had a gut feeling that the guy was a problem to the mob for other reasons like maybe being a “rat” for the District Attorney and it was a stupid attempt to get him off the street and safe in a cell.
That really made me laugh to myself because I knew no prison was “safe” for many different reasons related to both the guards and the inmates that were all looking to earn a buck and with problems of their own worse than being incarcerated.
I took the car down to the impound pier to have it checked out for the travel up to the Canadian border. The older Italian guy had been around for years and he assured me it was ready to roll.
He had even replaced my worn rear tires with a couple of top-notch retreads and stuck a spare in the trunk with the equipment for changing a tire from a totaled out Chevy that some fool had slammed into the West Side Highway’s steel girders at a high rate of speed.
We were already past Albany, when I noticed in the rear-view mirror that the black sedan with the spotlight on the side was continuing to shadow us at a respectable distance.
Red was resting her eyes in the passenger seat and I didn’t see any reason to alert her to our unwelcome company. I was beginning to think it wasn’t such a good idea to go on a vacation with the unfinished business back in the city. We could take a break from it but it would still be waiting for us upon our return and to ignore it would be akin to courting disaster. I suspected it would be a disaster of a magnitude that would mean the very difference of life and death at the end of the road.
I figured that the guys tailing us were professionals from the way they were tailing us with the utmost caution. That was good news because it meant they would be unlikely to make any mistake or miscalculation by making a rash move that would result in further exposure of their motives or give us a clue as to their true agenda.
We made the mistake of dining in the motel restaurant because we were quite tired from the long drive and it was so convenient.
Actually, the food was quite good but we got caught up with a pair of honeymooners all starry-eyed and assuming we were identical to them in every regard.
Red was not amused by my reluctance to correct our new acquaintances on their assumption that we were also honeymooners and she kicked me under the table to impress on me her displeasure with my silence.
Much later that evening, all four of us were feeling no pain with both of the girls giggling and whispering behind our backs about how big us men were in the below the belt category. I knew I was in trouble as soon as Red shed her dress and started walking around the motel unit in her undies and daring the much shyer Jennifer to match her lack of modesty.
When I saw Jennifer’s better half with the appropriate moniker of Randy get hard just watching my Red bend over to lose her high heels, I was at first a bit pissed off but then I saw Jennifer peeling off her clothes and she got my full attention because her panties were the sheer see-thru type that revealed her black bush in all of its glory. I doubted the girl was more than nineteen years old because her nipples were absolutely pointed up at the fan in the middle of the room like sun-flowers seeking the light of day.
It was one of those rooms that had both a double sized bed and a sofa in a separate sitting room with a comfortable mattress inside.
The booze slowed me down a bit and I merely watched Randy lead my Red to the sofa and plant her backside in the middle of his lap rubbing the hardness between his legs all over her nicely curved cheeks like he was tasting a sample of feminine softness that was both new and ripe for plucking.
She looked at me and saw my eyes were glued to Jennifer’s pretty snatch still covered by her flimsy panties and her nipples that were free as little birds and begging to be rolled between my fingers and licked by my greedy tongue.
It was easy to see my succulent secretary was fairly busting to break the news to me about the box-seats at the ball park. She gave a short spiel about how she got the info from a source she called “That darling boy at the team’s front office.” I got the distinct impression that no money changed hands in the procurement of the intelligence but her mood indicated she was running on all eight cylinders in the information gathering operation and probably rewarded him in a more personal...
I met my Uncle Joe over at the cop bar on Eighth Avenue that still used sawdust to keep the dirt down on the floor. The scent of the lunchtime menu overpowered the aroma of the beer and spirits that never left the place if you had a sensitive nose. The thing I liked best about the White Rose was their mid-day collection of hot food for the blue-collar workers in the neighborhood. Of course, most of the clientele washed it all down with liberal helpings of the draft beer that tasted like it...
Raymond stood there shaking the raindrops from his obviously borrowed or stolen woman’s umbrella and I could tell from his shifty eyes he was spinning his story with every word that crossed his lips. In all honesty, I didn’t really mind because I was used to Raymond by now and I hoped we could work together without one of us killing the other because underneath it all our dislike was a mirror image. I caught him ogling my secretary Julie’s ass when she bent over to fill my first cup of the...
The sky over Manhattan that Monday morning were grey and overcast with a fog that lingered in the long cold stripes called Avenues all the way from the East River to the mighty Hudson rushing brown and swollen out to the Atlantic Ocean. I figured it was not a good time for the news helicopters to be navigating the high-rises and it brought back my fear of the noisy, smelly things that spelled finis to a number of my compadres in the Marine Corps quick response team of which I was one of the...
I should have suspected there was something wrong right off the bat and that it was not a normal middle of the week morning that dreary Wednesday in the city that never sleeps. It was too late now because I was already down at police headquarters swigging down my second cup of overly strong java without benefit of cream or sugar because the spoons were far too dirty to even consider using what with the nasty Asian flu still going around like Montezuma’s revenge on a side trip to Tijuana for...
Rita admitted to me after a few drinks that she was working an assignment from Internal Affairs to weed out the dirty cops taking money from the shadowy cartels that kept the drugs flowing smoothly on the violent streets. I had sort of suspected as much from the way she was asking all the right questions and knew way too much for a rookie cop. Rita told me to be quiet because her room-mate was a light sleeper. I soon discovered it was either a lie or she actually wasn’t aware that her...
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Early the next morning, I picked up two coffees and a pair of doughnuts for Gloria and me to pig out on up on the roof of the Federal building downtown. She was frowning at the doughnut but I noticed she didn’t hesitate to shove it in her pretty little mouth and wash it down with a big swallow of Java. The tough FBI Special Agent had been making noises lately about her putting on some extra pounds around the hips and I took it all with a grain of salt because I was so used to most of the...
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The days of the trial were becoming more routine now. I would rather be in a totally different atmosphere but the light at the end of the tunnel was becoming more focused with each passing day. I had to admit it was far better than being in a combat zone or getting shot at on the job, but I really missed the freedom of choosing my own clothes and going to a ball game and taking a day off if I wanted a bit of variety in my life. I made it up with Julie by having her visit me on a conjugal...
The atmosphere in the courtroom changed as soon as the focus shifted from the prosecution making its case to hearing the defense team finally telling their side of the story. It was obvious to the spectators and hopefully to the jury members that the judge was doing his level best to grease the wheels for the prosecution simply because the evidence and the facts were so overwhelming that some of the jurors questioned why the case was not dismissed at the outset. The sense of chaos at the...
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It was a surprise decision made by those above my paygrade to have a joint task force meeting at the Attorney General’s office early Monday morning to discuss the plan of attack and to share intelligence on the current status of the case. Somehow, my Uncle had decided I would be the one to represent his office and our contribution to the evidence against the cartel running the Dirty Cop project. For the first time, I was unsure of my Uncle’s motivation in selecting me because I knew I was on...
Julie and I were sitting down on the floor next to my little hideaway in the office looking at the assortment of files that constituted the data collected on the murders that had spurred my investigation of the Dirty Cop case and I guess I must have been sporting a huge frown of frustration at not being able to pull it all together into a semblance of logical motivation. When I had taken the courses in investigation at the police academy, the first thing they had driven into our heads was...
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Hello me hu Deep aur me 19 yrs ka hu. Me ye site pe first time apne real story likhne ja ra hu. It is real not a fake. Ye story he mere mami ki ladki ki jo 22yrs ki he wo bot hi sexy he aur Me uske bare me esa feel nahi karta tha par ek din esa hua ki me control nai kar paya. Mere 12th ke vacations the aur me apne nana ke ghar ghumne gaya tha wah par mere mami aur unki sath unki ladki (nisha-jiske bare me baat kar raha hu)aur ladka milne ke liye aye the. Aur mere mama spain me job karte he....
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