Reunion or reunited; it sucks sometimes
I got my bank
statement send to the office so that I could previewed it first. If I let Jenny
sees my statement, either of us may shoot the other with the gun. I am serious;
she does not know how much I earned and spend. I liked it a secret pact between
the bank and myself. But the system glitched and sent it over the house. I knew
( hey, I am a detective. ) when I saw the opened envelope. I picked it up and
pocket it. I walked to the kitchen and saw the spread of dishes; lavish and
delicious. Then I saw her stepping away from the oven with the apron ( she was
not naked beneath it. ) over her favorite green dress.
That was it. She
saw my bank statement. I knew she had a motive. They all do as criminals.
"Uncle Hubert
coming over for dinner." Hubert? OMG, not that Hubert. He works off the
shores of the icy lands, fished out snow crabs, and takes us dinner when he
remembers every five years. That was his-story, then this year for some good
reasons not disclosed to me, Uncle Hubert having dinner in my house. I guessed
they ran of out crabs that year.
Crabs! She had
baked crabs for him. Who wants to eat the crabs we get at the market place when
he could had consumed his fresh without being refrigerated. She won't cooked me
crabs, she cited me as too crabby at times but she cooked for him.
Damned!
"Uncle Hubert
had just been discharged from the hospital. He was diagnosed with cancer and
undergo treatment there for over three months. Het never told us so are to get worried on him. I got to know from Mum." Yup, Mum the snitch. I nodded and went
to get freshen up. When I was putting on my fresh shirt, the portable rang. It
was a 187 in downtown. I was asked to go there. It also said 'its personal.' I
had to leave with Jenny fretting at my inconsiderate attitude. Later in
downtown, I asked the uniformed what we have.
"Mob killing.
One Benny Goodison laid for the mortuary with multiple shots on the
chest." The uniformed imitated the Capone style of shooting with the
Thompson.
"They missed
his balls." I placed it plainly to the officer. "If it was me, I
would do the balls first. Care for me to demonstrate now?"
The officer got my message loud and painful. Since my sarcasm went towards the officers', they
had me nicknamed Jointed Balls instead of Jimmy Barnes since then. I was looking at the
dead fellow when another officer roused me.
"Detective,
it was me who called you." I saw the name, Russel. I looked at him. He
continued on.
"We have
another body." He motioned ahead near the alley. "Probably innocent
bystander walking there. We found this on his wallet."
The item was my
name card with the word; Jenny's arse-hole husband. I walked over to the second
body. The arse-hole lying there was Uncle Hubert. He was lying there belly up.
"Your
relative?" I looked at the officer and smiled.
"One less
in-laws to contend with." I left the scene back for home. I am going to
enjoy my crabs tonight. The next day at the morgue, I listened to Dan with his
report.
"5.56 rounds.
Ten on Benny Goodison, and three on Hubert Mitchum." Dan looked at me.
"How did Jenny took it?"
"Okay, I
guessed. I had finished up the crabs while she was looking at the doorway. Then
I pretend to take a call before telling her. She was all teary but I did the
dishes, and leftovers." I scratched my balls then as it was itching over
there. I did see the rashes on the inner thigh. Probably nothing to concern on.
"With that
amount of seafood, you are sure there are no allergies in the family." Dan asked me
but his focus was on the bodies. I did not bother to reply but stood there
listening to him speak to the dead.
"Possible
machine gun...I would say M-14 perhaps, or any of those who fires 5.56. H&K,
FAMAS, or even Minimi. Most NATO issued rifles fired that round." Dan
concluded while removing the liver. He looked at it and smile. "No bullet
marks."
"Dan, on
Hubert..." I was to asked but Dan cut me off.
"I won't do
him much. He was just the bystander." I nodded to Dan. At least he
understood; I never liked the in-laws but their flesh would be equally
tasteless. Back at my section, Goodison family came with their goons to claimed
the body. They were led by their leader, Alfred Goodison; mob related,
businessman, and drug pusher. I ignored them until Alfred walked up to my desk.
"Jimmy, I
want Benny." The man threw down a wad of cash on my desk. "That ought
to cleared off any bureau requirement."
I picked up the
wad of money and threw it to Frank who had stepped in with two uniformed
officers armed with Remington shotguns.
"For the
widower fund." I told Frank. And then looked to Alfred. "Benny stays
here until I say he can go home."
"Jimmy, you
are going to regret this. We contribute a lot to your campaigns." Alfred
turned to walk and then stopped. He looked back. "We Goodison know how to
take care of their own."
I knew that vocal
sound. He meant they are going to retaliate on someone. But whom was my
concern. I left the goons to the uniformed and joined Di Angelo. I asked him on
who would whack the Goodison.
"I knew the
old man well; gun runner after the Nam war, then he did smuggling, but not
drugs. He held he family well, but when he left, the two idiots took over. They
do everything from drugs to trafficking of humans." Di Angelo voiced out.
"I once took down Alfred but his dad bailed him out."
"Goodison....enemies?"
I asked with my evil smile on the face.
"Ah....half a
dozen on this side of the city." Di Angelo replied. "Recently I heard
some European gangs. Over some dispute on missing shipments. They been some
threats but the Goodison have more influence here."
Di Angelo may be
retired, but he still had his network of informers. He does feed them on
occasions. I got the names I wanted. I brought along some of my members of my
gangs to stake the names, while I moved on the name on the top of the list. We met
in a French Cafe.
"Armand here
made good cappuccino." The man I was addressing was Claudio Bernard, the
alleged leader of the French connection. He was also the importer of fine wine
from that country to the city. His motto was 'nobody does it better than me.
"I knew Mr
Goodison from some previous dealings, but he was not ...how would you placed
the words; trustworthy? He was not." Claudio took a sip of his coffee when
the phone rang. He listened to it and then leaned over. He whispered to me.
"Called off
your men or are they protecting me?" I looked outside and saw the familiar
car. When I moved to looked at him, Armand had pulled the metal plates over the
windows. Within seconds, the shots were heard but they missed us due to the
metal plates. After the shooting, I had my men rushing in with drawn guns, but
Mr Claudio was still sipping his coffee.
"We have our
intelligence. We are not the stupid boys from the continent." Claudio
replied while getting up. He walked to the doorway. "We would do unto
others what other do unto us."
I would had
stopped him but Armand passed me the bill. That week, we had some killings on
both sides, but no conviction. Everything was clean. Or appeared to be. I got
the Commissioner on my back and Dan complained of too much work. I approached
Alfred in his office with three body guards outside the door.
"Mr Goodison,
could we discuss this war that is going on between..." Mr Goodison cut me
off with a snarl bear look that was marked with his ancestry.
"I did not
get my family involved in any war. Its the organized crime that was targeting
me. I am just protecting my family." Alfred defended himself. I recount to
him the number of deaths since Benny had mounted to twelve; mostly with the
5.56 rifle shooting.
"Did you said
5.56?" Alfred asked. I kept mum but Alfred knew something that he was not
talking. I went back to my Precinct. I sat at the desk for three hours while
thinking. I would done better with coffee which was why I left for Di Angelo.
"Di Angelo,
talk to me." I voiced out after taking my first cup of coffee. I was into
my second one, when I raised the question. Then another question.
"Does anyone
you knew used 5.56 ammo?" I asked and the reply was more hilarious.
"Half the
guns used in the military are 5.56 or 7.62...." I stopped Di Angelo. He
smiled and then proceeded to feint the thinking process. Then he smiled.
"There was
one whom I could tell you. He was known as the Gunman 5.56."
I ran back to the
Precinct; at my age it was an effort. I ran the reports on the so called
gunman. He was an independent contractor for his guns, and recently taken to
starting his own business in the florist trade. He was supplying to some good
clientele, and no convictions. I looked at the clients listing and found that
they are dance clubs and some notable names involved in the social networks. I
decided to visit the florist.
"I am a
florist, Detective." The man known as the Gunman aka Harold Lane denied
everything. I had to let him go. He walked outside of the Precinct and a car passing
by splattered his body on the pavement with 5.56 ammo. They then threw out the
M14-A1 from the car with Harold's prints on it. I checked out Harold's place
later; it was trashed out and there was all his guns lined up in a row with the
5.56 ammo. There was a message; stick these instead of flowers at your grave.
I met up with
Claudio at Armand's. Guess who was there/
"Detective,
please meet my business colleague. Mr.Goodison, you know Detective
Barnes." I looked at the vile man seated there.
"By reputation
We are discussing the reunion of our business of importing in flowers. Rare
ones, that only collectors want." I left the two of them to their
discussion. I called off my men and sulked in the office. Some bad guys win
most of the time.
I almost forgot.
"Hubert.... I
meant Uncle Hubert was a ..." I looked at the assembled congregation of
Jenny's kins. I picked up the prepared speech and read from it. Once I
finished, I was pulled aside by Jenny.
"Did you get
that from your office?" I nodded.
"Well,
changed the script next time. He was not a team player and never chased crabs.
He catches them. He was never married. He was single." I looked at Jenny.
"Well, he had some of those other qualities like old Joe." Joe died last month and I prepared
the speech.
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