Fumbled

by Harry Brady

  ”Detective Johnson, where would you like to start?”

  “Last night, the desk sergeant got a phone call about midnight from one of your employees. The employee was in the E.R. at Mercy Hospital with some broken ribs. He was ranting about one of your residents, a giant, who had assaulted him and broken into the narcotic cabinet. He was also ranting about some fentanyl. The desk sergeant said he was somewhat confused and advised him to come to the station and file a written report. The man declined to come in and began cursing and slammed the phone down. So when Holy Angels called to report the situation, I felt it best to get the facts correctly from you.”

  “Jeannie, you were there why don`t you tell us what happened,” Marilyn suggested.

  Jeannie began by saying it was a quiet night and when she returned from making rounds in the memory unit she found a chaotic scene in the skilled nursing unit.

  After about a ten-minute description of the night’s events by the Jeannie Edwards, LaKeisha sat back and responded. ”Let me get this straight. We have a giant with some memory problems going into the nursing unit after hours and deciding one of the patients is having an opioid overdose, and he tears the door off the narcotic cabinet and steals nothing but Narcan. He then assaults one of your employees and proceeds to inject the designated patient with Narcan. This is when you arrived on the scene Mrs. Edwards and when you checked the patient she seemed perfectly fine.”

  “Yes, Detective, that`s about it, except we don`t have any fentanyl in our formulary.”

  “Mrs. Edwards why would a nursing home have Narcan on hand? None of the patients would have access to fentanyl or heroin would they?”

  “We do stock Narcan for some emergencies, like cardiogenic shock or septic shock. Fortunately we have never had occasion to use it.”

  “Please tell me about the assailant. The man who called it in called him a giant and a wild man.”

  Jeannie continued “Well he is a very big man and apparently very strong. He was a professional football player and Raymond Benson , our night orderly, did have several broken ribs.”

  “What about the “the wild man” description?”

  Jeannie continued. ”The assailant is known here as a gentle person, but he did seem very aggressive last night.”

  “What about his memory problems?”

  “He does have some memory problems, but then again there are times he does function quite well.”

  Turning to the Executive Director, Detective Johnson said, “I will need the name of the assailant. We may need to talk to him later.

  Then turning to Jeannie Edwards she said, “Mrs. Edwards, thank you for the information and thank you for staying to talk with me. At first glance, it looks like we have a simple assault case and not a narcotic theft. If you would kindly provide me with Mr. Benson`s contact information, we will contact him and see if he wants to file a formal charge against the resident.”

  “Thank you Detective Johnson, Holy Angels will conduct our own internal security investigation. Pending what our investigation determines, it looks like we may need to consider taking action regarding Mr. Skrcyzinski`s behavior and if there is the need for him to be in the secure memory unit.”

  Detective LaKeisha Johnson walked out past the two life-size concrete Holy Angels guarding the front entrance of Holy Angels. She got in the Crown Victoria and started the engine. Before putting it in gear, she thought for a moment as to how someone with a memory problem would have the knowledge to diagnose a drug overdose and then how to reverse it with Narcan. She also wondered why the man with the broken ribs was sure that it was a fentanyl overdose. With these unresolved questions in her mind she put the car in gear and drove back to the Zone One Police headquarters.

  Chapter

  10

  Zone 1 District Squad Room

  Later that morning, Detective Johnson walked into the Zone 1 district squad room and approached her four feet by five feet cubicle and laid down the notes she had taken over at Holy Angels. Sitting at the next cubicle was detective Phillip Cash who looked up from his computer and asked, “What`s up, LaKeisha?”.

  “Nothing much. Just got back from Holy Angels with a bizarre story that ended up as a simple assault. How about homicide?”

  “Slow night last night. I just got the tox report back on the hooker who was found dead in the Day and Night Motel on Federal Street. No foul play. Over dosed on fentanyl rather than heroin. There`s a new batch of fentanyl that`s come in about a week ago and it is super potent. It seems as though the addicts try to switch from heroin to the new stuff and it`s taking them out.”

  “What else do you have on that case?”

  “I talked to the desk clerk and he told me that she had come in that afternoon with a scraggly looking guy carrying a large duffel bag. He left about forty-five minutes later with the duffel bag. They didn`t discover the body until the next morning until the cleaning lady found her. She was fully clothed and no signs of any trauma.”

  LaKeisha walked over to the coffee machine and asked, “Want me to warm up your cup?”

  “No thanks, I`m fine. How`s Tyrone doing? I understand he made the varsity as a sophomore.”

  “That boy! He keeps growing. Six feet two inches and he`s only fifteen. He got to start their last game and scored twelve points. How about Robin?”

  “She got her report card yesterday and it was all AAAs.”

  LaKeisha settled into her chair, set the coffee down and picked up the phone to call a Mr. Raymond Benson to see if he wanted to file an assault charge against a Mr. Damien Skrcyzinski.

  The cell phone lying under the cocktail table in the rooming house at 518 Lockhart Street rang seven times before a mumbled hello answered.

  “This is detective Johnson with the Zone One Police Department. I`d like to speak to Raymond Benson.”

  “Yeah”

  “Is this Mr. Benson?”

  “Yeah, whadda ya want?”

  “You called in last night about an assault at Holy Angels. You know the assailant and where he lives. Do you want to come down to the station and file a formal complaint?”

  Still in a fog from the previous night’s hydrocodone and Seagrams Raymond slumped down on the couch and tried to think.

  “So that`s the bastards name. Forget it! No, no charges. I can deal with it myself.” Before LaKeisha could respond the call was disconnected.

  It looks like there may be more excitement at Holy Angels detective LaKeisha Johnson thought to herself.

  “Hey Cash, what`s up with the cupcakes over by the coffee machine?” He looked up from a report he was writing on his computer and responded, ”It`s Sargent O`Connor`s birthday and he brought them in to celebrate, because he has only two more years before he can retire. Does your victim want to file charges?”

  “No, he isn`t going to press charges and the more that I think about this it may not be just a simple assault. ” LaKeisha then related the questions she had in her mind after leaving the meeting at the Executive Director`s office at Holy Angels.

  “As soon as I finish one of those cupcakes, I`ll go down and wish Sargent O`Connor a happy birthday. Then I think I will pay a visit to the two combatants.”

  “Why don`t I tag along? I don`t see how a 95 year old lady in a nursing home would try to get high on some fentanyl. Somebody may have wanted her to die.”

  Chapter

  11

  About fifteen minutes later in an unmarked car, they drove down North Avenue turned right onto Cedar leading to the lower Northside and then a few blocks later a left onto Lockhart Street. It was a very narrow street with large rambling houses that would have been fashionable in the 1920s era, but were now either boarded up or had “rooms for rent” signs in cracked front windows. It was a scene typical of many large cities across the country. Arriving at the address Marilyn Cassidy had given to LaKeisha, they parked and entered a r
ed brick building through an unlocked front door into a short hallway with steps on the right going up to the second floor. On the second floor landing they found another hall with several doors each of which was numbered. Proceeding to #216, Cash knocked on the door. After a few seconds with no response he knocked again. A muffled, “Yeah,” answered, and then, “Whatta ya want?”

  Cash responded “Police, we just want to ask you some questions.”

  The door opened just enough for Raymond to look out and for Cash to flash his badge.

  The door opened further allowing them to enter the room.

  Raymond stepped back pulling up and buttoning his jeans saying “I ain`t done nothing wrong.”

  La Keisha took the lead at this point “We didn`t say you did, we just want to ask you about the incident at Holy Angels and the resident that allegedly assaulted you.”

  Raymond stepped across the room and flopped back on the greasy couch said, “That big son of a bitch broke my ribs. That`s what happened.”

  Both Cash and LaKeisha looked for a place to sit down but seeing the roaches and Taco Bell bags scattered all over the room, they decided to remain standing. “What led up to that?” La Keisha asked.

  “I don`t remember. All I know is he broke my ribs and it still hurts like hell.”

  “What about the lady who you gave a pill to?”

  “I never gave no lady any pills.”

  “She said you did.”

  “I ain`t allowed to give out pills. Them old people is so looney over there, they don`t even know what day it is.”

  Further questioning only resulted in more complaints about broken ribs and that he would get even with that big SOB.

  Retreating from the roach motel, Cash and LaKeisha got back in the car. ”What`s next?” Cash asked.

  “While we are in the area, let`s stop at the Shamrock Café and see if our giant is there”. Five minutes later they pulled up in front of the Shamrock Café. Walking in, they looked back along the booths on the right. Four card players were in the last booth and intent on their game. Sitting on a chair next to the booth was a huge man watching the proceedings.

  Approaching the group, all activity stopped and Cash and LaKeisha became the center of attention. Facing the huge man from the side LaKeisha asked him, “Are you Damien Skrcyzinski?”

  Standing up and towering over her, Damien said, “Yes, I am. What can I help you with?”

  Flashing her badge LaKeisha answered, “We`d like to ask you some questions?”

  “That`s okay with me. I always enjoy talking about football.”

  “No, it`s not football. It`s about an incident at Holy Angels. Let`s go to another booth where we can talk.”

  Walking back to the first booth where they were out of earshot from the card players and two patrons at the end of bar, they all slid into the booth with Damien on one side facing the two detectives. La Keisha began, “Tell us what happened the night, you thought the lady was having an overdose.”

  “My friend and I were going to visit another friend in the nursing unit and when we got there, I saw that she had overdosed and I gave her Narcan and she got better.”

  “Why did you think she had overdosed?”

  “I didn`t think it. I saw it.”

  “O.K. how did you know it?”

  “If you hang around this neighborhood all the time, you can see one of those every couple of days.”

  “O.K. How did you know it was fentanyl?”

  “They all look the same. Heroin, cocaine, fentanyl - they all look dead and turn blue.”

  “O.K. but why did you know it was fentanyl?”

  “The talk on the street is that fentanyl is the newest drug in town.”

  Just then an older man walked in and waved to Damien. “I see you have some new friends. Have you shown them your picture next to Bullet Bill Dudley?” Both LaKeisha and Cash thought to themselves, “Who is Bullet Bill Dudley?”

  Further questioning over the next ten minutes was not productive, so they returned to the unmarked car and got in.

  “Now what do we do?” asked LaKeisha.

  “How about we do lunch at Max and Irma`s. Get you some good German food. Seven minutes later they walked into Max and Irma`s Hof Brau Haus. The décor suggested that you were in a hunting lodge somewhere in the Black Forest. A large stag`s head was mounted above the bar and beer steins lined the counter of the back bar. An elderly lady with her gray hair up in a bun came up and took Cash`s hand said in an accent, “Phillip, where have you been? You and your lovely wife Laura should come here more often. I still remember when you used to come here every day when you were a little boy to deliver our newspaper.”

  Smiling at her he said, “Yes, and Max would always give me a free glass of coke. It`s been at least twenty- five years since I delivered the papers. Irma, I want you to meet my friend Detective Johnson. She needs some good German food.”

  “Well, you brought her to the right place. We have sauerbraten, potato pancakes and red cabbage as a special today. Can I get you something to drink before I go back into the kitchen?”

  “Black coffee for both of us,” Cash replied.

  When they were seated in a back room LaKeisha asked, “What do you think about this morning?”

  “From what you said, the nurse has the best info. She has everything documented and the Executive Director was scared. No confused is a better term. As for the orderly, when I looked at his eyes I saw only anger and cold hatred. I also think that he did not give up a Rhodes scholarship to work as an orderly at Holy Angels. The football player seems to be street wise and knows drugs and how to use Narcan. We also need to find out who the hell Bullet Bill Dudley is.”

  LaKeisha laughed. Their food arrived and they dug in.

  Chapter

  12

  As the snow began to fall “Slick Johnny” Anderson stepped out of the front door of the Shamrock Café on East General Robinson Street and began walking toward Federal Street a block and a half away. He was more than a little pissed that one of his regular customers had failed to show up. Even though it was overcast and snowing, he put on his sunglasses because he felt that it added to his street credibility. This was his territory and he needed to remind everyone the he was THE MAN on the lower Northside. His kingdom ran from the Allegheny River on the south up through Fineview to Perrysville Avenue to the north. The eastern edge was all the way up Troy Hill and to the west it went out Brighton Road almost to the Western Penitentiary, where many of his friends resided. If anyone tried to move drugs in his domain he had a former middleweight boxer as his muscle. A few broken jawbones and kneecaps secured his empire.

  John Jefferson Anderson considered himself a very smart man even though he had dropped out of school in the sixth grade. He was the youngest of eight children in a single parent home. His mother was on welfare, but there was never enough money. As a result he never remembered having any new article of clothing for himself, even his underwear. All he got to wear were hand me downs from his older brothers and in the sixth grade the only warm coat he had came from an older sister. He remembered the kids in his classroom making fun of him and calling him a girl. That was one of the reasons he stopped going to school. At age eleven he became the lookout for a local drug pusher on River Avenue. It didn`t take long for him to buy a Pittsburgh Pirates jacket at the local Sears and Roebucks. The next step was to become a runner for the dealer delivering baggies of marijuana and various other illegal substances all over the Northside. This allowed him to gain a knowledge of all the streets in this part of the city and who were the best customers for these various products. By the age of fourteen, he had his own daily route similar to a newspaper boy. This enabled him to become one of the flashiest teen age dressers in town and to move out of the rat infested flea bag, that he had grown up in.

  The next major move in his career path was to lie to t
he police in defense of a local hood, who was accused of breaking into a jewelry store on East Ohio Street. Johnny arranged to hide the stolen property before the police could get a warrant to search the suspect`s apartment and then provided an alibi by telling the police that the hood was in an all-night poker game at the time of the robbery. Then came Johnny`s earning his name of “Slick Johnny.” Johnny took the stolen jewelry and sold it to a fence, who was on Johnny`s regular drug delivery route. Johnny was sure that the hood would not retaliate because it was known that Johnny had the protection of the drug dealer`s enforcer.

  Then at the age of twenty two, good fortune smiled upon Slick Johnny once again. Johnny`s boss, the main man in the Northside illegal drug trafficking business, got himself shot and killed in a big stakes crap game in Steubenville, Ohio. Because of his intimate knowledge of the territory and customer needs, Slick Johnny by default took control of the Northside drug business. He inherited the burnt out second rate boxer as the businesses muscle. Slick Johnny solidified his position by offering a better deal to his wholesale drug suppliers, and then deftly raised the price of the drugs to his customers. This made Slick Johnny richer than his wildest dreams. He now had a chauffeur to drive him around in a pink Cadillac. He had sexy women, and he could buy all the new clothes he ever wanted. He was certainly The Man on the Northside of Pittsburgh.

  Halfway down the block on the opposite side of the street was a black Cadillac Escalade with darkened windows. The rear window opened and a voice called out, “Hey, Slick Johnny.”

  As Johnny looked over at the Cadillac, he saw the business end of an Ak-47 poking out of the window and the flash of a short burst. Johnny was thrown back against a wall and slid down onto the sidewalk as rivers of bright red blood ran down his camel hair overcoat. The front door of the Cadillac opened and a short man with a dark complexion ran across the street and going through Slick Johnny`s overcoat pocket found his cell phone and put it in his own pocket and then hurried back to the car.