The Holy City Hustle: A Duke Dempsey Mystery

by Ron Plante Jr

  The Holy City Hustle

  A Duke Dempsey Mystery

  By Ron Plante Jr.

  The Duke Dempsey Mystery Series

  BOOK 1 BOOK 2

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2020 by Ronald A. Plante, Jr.

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Freeman’s Point Press

  Cover design by Rebecacovers

  Editing by Elizabeth Wheeler

  This book is dedicated to my mother, my late father, and my brother. They have always supported me in my life no matter what path I chose. I will pass on the same love and guidance that was passed down to me.

  Preface

  On the Ides of March, the conspirators make their way to the Senate. As planned, all the conspirators stab Caesar. Caesar is most distressed by Brutus's participation since he believes Brutus to be his friend. As Brutus stabs him, Caesar gives up. He dies broken-hearted at his friend's betrayal, saying, 'Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar.'

  Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare

  Chapter 1 – Pomp and Circumstance

  It was a beautiful November day in downtown Charleston, SC. The sun was shining down and the sentiment around the city was one of joy. It was a time of recovery and celebration for Charlestonians.

  It had been four months since a string of horrific murders had rattled the Southern city during one of the hottest summers on record. Duke Dempsey had worked hand in hand with the Charleston Police Department to stop the killings and bring a sense of security to the city. The gathering in Marion Square was to honor his heroics and present him with the highest honor a civilian could receive.

  “Are you nervous?” the beautiful brunette with piercing blue eyes asked Duke.

  Duke sat in his beige suit, navy blue tie, and brown Walker hat watching the presentation from the side of the stage with his girlfriend, Mary Crosby. Duke had never been one for pomp and circumstance, but when the mayor’s office came calling, he’d had no choice but to accept.

  The boys at The Post had been more than accommodating with the numerous articles they’d written on the incident. They’d not only helped rake in their profits, but they’d also boosted Duke’s business to heights he’d never thought it would reach. Duke Dempsey Private Investigations had seen such an increase in business he was seriously thinking about taking on another detective.

  Those decisions would have to wait for another day, because Duke was going to enjoy his ceremony and the positive publicity that came with it.

  “Come on, doll. It’s going to take a little more than a marching band and balloons to shake me,” he said back to his girl.

  “Looks like the whole city is here. You’re a real celebrity now.”

  Marion Square was positioned in the heart of downtown Charleston, across the street from the beautiful Francis Marion Hotel. Francis Marion had been built 15 years earlier and was the most prestigious hotel in the city. The square was a beautiful green space that sat between King Street and Meeting Street. It was a large open area with beautiful statues that made it the perfect place to hold various events for the city. The stage was positioned next to the bronze statue of John C. Calhoun, a Charleston native and the 7th Vice President of the United States. A section to the left of the stage was set up for the marching band, while the area Duke sat in was for top city officials and dignitaries.

  “Funny how the sentiment can change so fast. Just goes to show that politics will always call the shots,” Duke said as he nodded to an older guy in a disheveled gray suit pushing his way through the crowd. “Glad you could make it.”

  “Some of us are never off the clock,” the old man said, and hugged Mary before sitting down.

  Detective Johnathan Stampkin was the Lead Detective for Charleston PD. He was in his late 50’s but nowhere close to retiring. Johnny had been Duke’s mentor when he’d come up as a new detective. They’d worked many cases together and remained friends after Duke’s untimely departure from the force. He was a salty, disgruntled vet and was the best detective Charleston PD had to offer.

  “Yeah, yeah, we all work for a living,” Duke joked as he patted his friend on the back.

  “The only difference is that your line of work helped you buy a new house on Broad, and I’ll be slumming it until I’m 10 feet under,” Johnny shot back.

  “I can’t keep up with my caseload. You turn in that badge and I’ll make you a rich man.” Duke laughed, knowing Johnny would never leave the force.

  “Shhh, they’re starting,” Mary said as she pinched Duke’s leg.

  A hush came over the crowd as the band played their rendition of ‘God Bless America.’ Everyone stood up and placed their hands on their hearts as the trumpets kicked in the first few notes, and a patriotic feeling swept through the crowd. Duke, Johnny, and Mary all stood up with the rest, and the gentlemen removed their hats.

  It was hard not to get caught up in the excitement and emotion of the moment. Charleston had just survived a very dark period in the city’s history, and it was time for the healing to start. The ceremony was just as much for the psyche of the city as it was to honor Duke.

  As the band finished up, the spectators took their seats, and the Master of Ceremonies approached the podium. He was a young, good-looking gentleman who worked in the mayor’s office.

  “Citizens of Charleston, we welcome you all here for a very momentous occasion. How fitting to honor one of Charleston’s sons here in Marion Square before the statue of Charleston’s most accomplished icon. Former Vice President John C. Calhoun is looking down upon this glorious day as we gather to honor a new hero,” the young man said with gusto in his voice.

  The crowd stood up and clapped at the theatrics of the presenter. Duke even started to get a kick out of the reaction the young man had extracted from the onlookers. He could see how the mayor had upset the incumbent in September with a kid like that on his staff.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, allow me to call our illustrious Mayor Morris Swanson to the stage,” the Master of Ceremonies said, to another standing ovation of the crowd.

  Duke smirked at Johnny sitting next to him. To him, this was an ironic situation. Mayor Morris Swanson was the only city official present who had not been a part of Duke’s departure from the force. Captain Slate, who was up for Commissioner, was a big reason why Duke was currently not a member of the Charleston Police Department. Mayor Swanson, however, was calling the shots, and he was the new blood in town. Under the previous mayor, Duke severely doubted that he would be getting such an honor. He glanced at the hierarchy of the Charleston PD, all seated in a row up front, and wondered what they were thinking.

  Mayor Morris Swanson was a robust fellow with a severely receding hairline. He stood maybe 5’7 and had to weigh approximately 230 lbs. What he lacked in appearance he made up with his tough talk. He had used the events of the summer to appeal to his constituents that Charleston needed him to protect them from further horrific events. The police had backed the previous mayor, but despite their best efforts, Morris Swanson had won in a landslide.

  Duke’s views on politics were marred by what had happened to his career. He hadn’t voted in the election, but there was no doubt in his mind he welcomed the change.

  “My fellow Charlestonians, today is a great day in our city’s history. Just a short time ago, this city was in a state
of turmoil and chaos. Citizens were unable to leave their own homes. The very religious institutions that helped found this city came under attack by a sinister killer. A killer who was finally stopped by one of our sons. Someone who stepped up and answered the call to protect us in our time of need. This man symbolizes the type of character and bravery that helped shape this city,” Mayor Swanson said, playing to the crowd as much as he could. He lacked the charisma of the previous speaker, but for this occasion, he’d managed to tame his no-nonsense demeanor.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of Charleston, please give a big round of applause for the savior of the Holy City, Mr. Duke Dempsey!”

  “He laid it on pretty thick, didn’t he?” Duke whispered to Stampkin as he handed his Walker hat to Mary and made his way to the stage.

  Stampkin just smiled and clapped as he played along with the dog and pony show. The band erupted into ‘The Washington Post March’ as Duke made his way to the stage. He passed the front row of city officials, including Police Commissioner Derflinger, Chief Spitz, and Captain Slate. They played along and clapped, but Duke could feel their eyes burning into the side of his head as he walked by. Duke walked up the steps and made his way to the podium as the crowd stood and continued to clap. He joined Mayor Swanson, his 6’0 frame towering over the 5’7 mayor.

  Lenny from The Post was positioned in the front row, with his photographer sporting a 35mm press camera. The huge bulb burst with illumination as Duke shook the hand of Mayor Swanson. Duke made a mental note to get a copy of the photo for future advertising.

  “Mr. Duke Dempsey!” the mayor exclaimed one last time as he clapped even harder, getting the crowd more fired up.

  Mayor Swanson allowed the applause to go on a few seconds before he motioned to the band, who immediately stopped playing and sat. The applause wound down and the people took their seats.

  The mayor’s assistant handed him a small black case, then returned to the background.

  “Mr. Dempsey, on this day November 10th, 1938 we have gathered here to acknowledge your heroic actions in which you risked your life to bring an evil assassin to justice. On behalf of the citizens of Charleston, the families you helped gain closure, and the Charleston Police Department, we honor you with this humble award.” The mayor opened the case, revealing a golden key. “Please take this Key to the City as a token of our appreciation, and know that this is the highest award possible for a citizen to receive.” The mayor handed the key to Duke and motioned for him to take the podium.

  Duke stepped up to the podium with the key in hand, looking at the crowd standing and clapping. As much as he’d played the loner card in the past, the appreciation he felt was immense. The incident and the whirlwind aftermath had never really given him a chance to sit back and realize what it meant to the city he’d grown up in. He finally saw that impact, and it really tugged at him. As the crowd started to silence, certain brazen voices started to yell out, “Speech!”

  While the crowd was focused on Duke as he approached the microphone, Detective Stampkin was watching a nefarious character making his way toward the staging area. He lost sight of him when the unsavory looking man ducked behind the stage. Johnny got up abruptly, and Mary gave him a strange glance as he slowly moved toward the individual, excusing himself as he passed by each onlooker.

  The man was wearing a black suit and was approximately 5’10 with black hair and dark features. He was in his mid-20’s, well built, and had a black hat pulled down just above his eyes. Something about the man didn’t seem right to Stampkin, and he wanted to confront him to ensure he was not a threat. As Stampkin stepped out of the section of city officials and made a beeline to the area behind the stage.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Mayor, thank you all for this unbelievable award. First, I would like to....”

  A loud BANG rang out and echoed throughout the park. The gunshot came from behind Duke. His reflexes kicked in and he immediately hit the floor. The crowd went from joy to instant terror and began to scatter and run. Duke reached for his Colt .38, but realized he had left it at home for the ceremony.

  He looked behind him where the noise had come from, and all he saw was Mayor Swanson’s body face down with blood pouring all over the stage. The mayor’s assistant was lying on the stage, grasping the back of his own head as if he’d been hit. Duke looked over in the direction of Mary and Stampkin. He could see that she was ok and away from the action, but Johnny was gone. Duke got up and ran toward the rear exit.

  As Johnny came around the corner, he heard the gunshot ring out and immediately drew his revolver. Before he could react, the suspect flew at him from the top of the stage. The man’s full weight came down on him as they both hit the ground with Johnny taking the brunt of the spill. Johnny’s revolver erratically discharged when it hit the ground. The suspect immediately picked himself off Stampkin and tried to make a run for it.

  Duke came hurtling off the stage and hit the killer with a flying knee square in the back before he could flee. The killer fell back to the ground face-first, almost landing on Stampkin a second time. Duke immediately regained his balance, turned the suspect over, and landed one right hand to his face, knocking the suspect out cold.

  “You alright, old man?” Duke asked as he looked at his ex-partner lying on his back.

  “That’s the thanks I get for trying to save your ass,” Stampkin said as he slowly pulled himself off the ground.

  “I wasn’t the target,” Duke said, as reality started to set in on the events that just taken place.

  “Jesus Christ,” was all that Johnny could muster. He knew that if Duke wasn’t the target, then it could only be one other person.

  “Yeah, it didn’t look good,” Duke said.

  Just as the suspect started to come around, two officers who were positioned in the front of the stage came to the back where the commotion was.

  Duke looked down at the assassin and saw blood pouring from his nose. The killer had tan skin, jet-black hair, and looked like he might have been from overseas, but Duke wasn’t sure where. He violently grabbed the assailant from his lapel and pulled him off the ground. “You got a name, tough guy?” Duke asked.

  The assassin gave Duke a sinister smile as the blood continued to flow from his nose. He then spat a glob of blood on Duke’s left brown cap toe oxford.

  Duke looked down at his blood laden shoe then gripped the suspect closer, head-butting him in the process. The suspect’s nose exploded with a burst of more blood as a loud crack was heard. His legs gave out and he started to lose consciousness again, but Duke held onto to his lapel, keeping him from hitting the ground. “He’s all yours, boys,” Duke said to the two patrol officers that were on scene. Each cop grabbed an arm of the suspect and dragged the assassin away.

  Chapter 2 – Fought Like a Bulldog

  “Get these people out of here. This is a crime scene!” Stampkin yelled as he walked onto the stage.

  Police officials, people from the mayor’s office, and random personnel who were a part of the ceremony were scattered around the area. It was a chaotic mess, and Stampkin knew precious evidence was being destroyed with every step someone took.

  “Looks like you're going to be pretty busy. I’m going to check on Mary,” Duke said to Johnny as he looked over at Mayor Swanson’s corpse.

  “Take some of these Looky Lucys with ya,” Detective Stampkin said with a raised voice.

  “I’ll give my statement to one of the patrolmen on my way out.”

  Duke hadn’t gotten far before he was blinded by another bulb explosion from The Post’s photographer.

  “Damn it, Lenny! If I see a photo of a fresh corpse in the morning paper, you and your nimrod photographer will be sitting in a cell for obstruction! We clear?” Stampkin yelled down to the news hawk.

  “When things cool down, meet at Doc’s tonight?” Duke asked as he walked away.

  Johnny just gave Duke a nod, as he was fully invested in preserving what was left of the crime scene.
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br />   Duke very much wanted to dive right into the investigation because of his nature, but he knew that was a different life. Stampkin had taken control as a veteran detective would and had started barking orders left and right. He got some officers to clear out the onlookers, and even asked the head honchos of his department to clear the area. They knew protocol, so there wasn’t much push-back. He had someone get Mickey, the coroner, to come to the scene before the body was moved.

  Stampkin worked fast and he was direct, and Duke watched in awe while slowly making his way off the stage. He remembered working many scenes with his mentor and he noted that the old guy hadn’t lost a step.

  Duke saw Mary on the sidewalk hugging her parents and looking distraught. He knew she’d already been through a lot just a few months earlier, and prayed the murder of Mayor Swanson wouldn’t finally put her over the edge.

  “Hey doll, how you holding up?” Duke asked, as Mary rushed over to his arms.

  “I... I thought it was you,” she said as she squeezed Duke tight against her.

  “Come on, now. You think I’d let a schmuck like that get the drop on me?” he said as he wiped tears from her face. Her crystal blues were something right off a movie set. Duke found himself falling deeper and deeper into them with every gaze. “I need to give my statement. We got the SOB. Hopefully, that’ll at the very least allow people to feel a little safer tonight.” Duke’s hand started to ache a bit.

  Mary looked at his hand and kissed his knuckles where a bruise was starting to form. “When you say we, you mean you?”

  “Well, Johnny did trip the guy for me, kind of.” Duke’s joke fell, flat considering the gravity of the situation. “Let me get this statement down while it’s still fresh in my head. I don’t want any excuses for this punk to get off. I’m going to meet up with Johnny tonight at Doc’s and see who this bastard is.”