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Wheel of Fortune
A Detective Louis Martelli, NYPD, Mystery/Thriller
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“A fast-paced, intelligent mystery . . . intricate plot development and action . . . stands out from the crowd.”
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Other Novels
by
Theodore Jerome Cohen
Death by Wall Street*
House of Cards*
Lilith*
Night Shadows*
Eighth Circle*
Frozen in Time†
Unfinished Business†
End Game†
Cold Blood††
Full Circle
* A Detective Louis Martelli, NYPD, Mystery/Thriller
†The Antarctic Murders Trilogy
††The Antarctic Murders Trilogy, Books I, II, III in one Kindle eBook
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© Theodore Jerome Cohen, 2015 • All rights reserved
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This is a work of fiction. With the exception of well-known personalities, historical names and incidents, and recognizable geographical locations, the names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents found here are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales in the context of the story is entirely coincidental. All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders.
First Edition
First Printing, 2015
ISBN-10: 098492096X (sc)
ISBN-13: 978-0-9849-2096-9 (sc)
Published in the United States of America
Book design by the author
Front cover design by the author
Photo Credits
Front cover art: Tarot card, BigStockPhoto.com
Frontispiece: Shutterstock.com
Photograph of author: Susan Cohen, 2006
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The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author.
Copyrights,
Notes, and Notices
A black-and-white is a police patrol car.
Bud® is a registered trademark of Anheuser-Busch Inc.
Chevy® is a registered trademark of the General Motors Corporation.
Coke® is a registered trademark of Coca-Cola Company.
Dodge® and RAM 1500® are registered trademarks of the Chrysler Group, LLC
Ford® automobiles, including the Crown Victoria Police Interceptor®, are products of the Ford Motor Company.
IBS New York®, International Beauty Show New York, is a registered trademark of Questex Media Group LLC
Jerr-Dan® is a registered trademark of Jerr-Dan Corporation, an Oshkosh Corporation.
John Deere® is a registered trademark of the Deere & Company
Leach® is a registered trademark of Quebec-based Labrie Environmental
Mack® and MR600® are registered trademarks of Mack Truck, Inc.
Make-a-Wish Foundation® is a registered trademark of Make-a-Wish Foundation of America
My Life Would Suck Without You is a song performed by American pop recording artist Kelly Clarkson from her fourth studio album, All I Ever Wanted. The song features songwriting credits from Max Martin, Lukasz Gottwald, and Claude Kelly and production credits from Martin and Gottwald under his production moniker, Dr. Luke.
Porter House New York at the Time Warner Center is Michael Lomonaco’s new home.
PowerPoint® is a registered trademark of Microsoft Corporation
QVC® is a registered trademark of QVC, Inc.
Robert is a modern American restaurant housed within the Museum of Arts and Design with an amazing view of Columbus Circle and Central Park in New York City.
Ruger LCP® is a registered trademark of Sturm, Ruger & Co., Inc.
Stryker® is a registered trademark of Stryker, Inc.
Swatch® is a registered trademark of Swatch AG.
The Godfather is a trilogy comprising three feature-length crime films. It was directed by Francis Ford Coppola and based on the novel of the same name by Mario Puzo.
UPS® is a registered trademark of United Parcel Services of America, Inc.
UZI® is a registered trademark of Walther Arms, Inc.
Yakety Sax is a pop-jazz instrumental music composition composed by James Q. “Spider” Rich and Homer “Boots” Randolph III and popularized by saxophonist Randolph in his 1963 recording. It was used as the theme music on television’s The Benny Hill Show.
All other corporations, partnerships, manufacturers, and products appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real corporations, partnerships, manufacturers, and products is purely coincidental.
Abbreviations
1PP 1 Police Plaza (New York Police Department Headquarters)
ADA Assistant District Attorney
AM Ante Meridiem; Before Midday
ATF Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms
CEO Chief Executive Officer
CSI Crime Scene Investigator
CSU Crime Scene Unit
ER Emergency Room
FDA Federal Drug Administration
FBI Federal Bureau of Investigation
GI Government Issue or General Issue, in this case referring to military personnel
GPS Global Positioning System
HVAC Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning
IAFIS Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System (FBI)
ICE Immigration and Customs Enforcement
ID Identification
IL Illinois
IT Information Technology
MO Missouri
NC North Carolina
NGI Next Generation Identification (system)
NJ New Jersey
NY New York
NYPD New York Police Department
PA Pennsylvania
PC Personal Computer
PM Post Meridiem
; After Midday
RPM Revolutions Per Minute
SD South Dakota
TV Television
US United States
UV Ultraviolet
V8 Engine with Eight Cylinders (mounted on the crankcase in two banks of four cylinders, in most cases set at a right angle to each other, but sometimes at a narrower angle)
VA Virginia
vic Victim
Acronyms
SOL Shit Out of Luck
medevac Medical Evacuation
WITSEC WITness SECurity (Program), aka the Witness Protection Program
Codes
Bus Police ‘code word’ for ambulance
To the Men and Women of Law Enforcement,
With Gratitude for their Service
“I see a girl, soon to be a woman,” Tibb continues. “The girl who will share your life. She will love you, she will betray you, and finally she will die for you. And it will all have been for nothing. All for nothing in the end.”
Joseph Delaney
Attack of the Fiend
Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Forty-one
Forty-two
Forty-three
Forty-four
Forty-five
Forty-six
Forty-seven
Forty-eight
Forty-nine
Fifty
Fifty-one
Fifty-two
Fifty-three
Fifty-four
Fifty-five
Fifty-six
Fifty-seven
Fifty-eight
Fifty-nine
Sixty
Sixty-one
Sixty-two
Sixty-three
Sixty-four
Sixty-five
Sixty-six
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
As always, Susan— the love of my life, my soulmate, and my ‘partner in crime’—provided vital suggestions, insightful editing, and most important, unswerving support during the development of the manuscript. I especially want to thank Edwin (Eddy) Vile, Jr., E. S. Vile & Son, Inc., Fairless Hills, PA, for our many discussions regarding the trash hauling business and for his careful reading of this book’s manuscript. The suggestions and guidance from Officer Sy Nankin (ret.), Essex County (NJ) Sheriff’s Department, in matters pertaining to police procedures were immensely beneficial, and his assistance, as always, was most appreciated. Stephanie Rubin, Dr. Martin Halpern, and Sandra Prime provided editorial assistance and helpful suggestions regarding early drafts. Finally, Commander William Alden Lee, U.S. Navy (ret.), generously gave of his time to edit the final manuscript and resolve problems related to style. His ability to root out mischievous typos and other errors that somehow always elude me is uncanny. Bob Mehta of ebookconversion.com provided many useful suggestions regarding the production of the Kindle version.
One
Even in death, Katlyn Lundquist looked exquisite. Blonde, svelte, and with sculpted facial features, she was the quintessential Swedish beauty, the type men lusted after on the street if not in the many adult magazines devoted to the worship of the female anatomy. Lundquist, who would have been 25 in December, had emigrated at age five from Stockholm to Pennsylvania with her parents, who died, tragically, in an automobile accident in 2009. Now she lay on NYPD Deputy Coroner Michael Antonetti’s autopsy table, a single bullet hole in the back of her head.
“So, Michael, what can you tell me about Jane Doe?” asked Detective-Investigator Louis Martelli of Manhattan’s First Precinct as he thumbed through the victim’s file. It was 9:30 AM on a Wednesday morning in late August.
“Not much, I’m afraid,” responded the deputy coroner as he finished sewing up the deep Y-shaped incision in Lundquist’s chest—shoulder-to-shoulder meeting at the breast bone and extending down to the pubic bone. The victim’s internal organs lay in stainless steel bowls on another table. “As you see from the police report, she was found in Thomas Paine Park, within spitting distance of 26 Federal Plaza, well after midnight. No identification on the body. Her clothes, which my assistant tells me could have been purchased at any of a hundred stores in the five boroughs, weren’t disturbed, and my preliminary examination shows she wasn’t sexually assaulted.”
Martelli turned to Antonelli’s assistant, Latonya Williams, who nodded, confirming what Antonetti had just said.
“No signs of a struggle, Michael? Perhaps something under her fingernails?”
“Nothing there. But there were cotton fibers around the entrance to her nostrils. I took samples and sent them to the lab.
“Overall, Louis, given the condition of the body, I’m inclined to say she either knew her killer or killers, or was taken by surprise.”
Martelli looked at Lundquist’s naked body. “What about her breasts? Any implants?”
“Sorry, Michael, they’re the real McCoy. This lady had everything going for her in the looks department, which makes looking at her in this state all the more difficult.”
“And her teeth?”
“Perfect. Oh, a small filled cavity here and there—the dental work was good, by the way—but other than that, her teeth look perfect. I took impressions in the event we may need them later for identification.”
The room went silent as Martelli looked down and shook his head at the thought of another senseless death, a death he and his partner, Detective-Investigator Sean O’Keeffe, were going to have to investigate.
“There is one thing, however, you should see, Michael. Latonya, would you please help me roll the body over?”
Working together, Antonetti and Williams rolled the victim on her stomach, revealing the woman’s back, which was covered with a large tattoo.
Martelli let out a low whistle. “Well, if that isn’t a thing of beauty,” he remarked, taking out his cell phone and snapping a picture of the tattoo. “What do you make of it, Michael?”
“It’s the Wheel of Fortune,” interjected Williams.
Two
‘The Wheel of Fortune?” asked Martelli. “Waddaya talking about? I’ve never heard or seen anything like it.”
Williams laughed. “That may be because you didn’t grow up in the backwaters of the Mississippi River, just above Baton Rouge. My grandmother used to take me with her when she went to have her fortune read. This tattoo is the Wheel of Fortune. It’s found on a tarot card. Everything you see has significance. For example, those Hebrew letters on the circle, Yod Heh Vau Heh, stand for the unpronounceable name of God. That serpent on the left side . . . it’s the Egyptian god Typhon. He represents evil. Everything has a meaning.”1
Martelli stepped closer and peered down at the victim’s back. “And the Sphinx . . . there, at the top of the wheel?” He pointed his right index finger toward the top of the tattoo. “What does it represent?”
“Life’s riddles,” replied Williams, “which is most appropriate, given the circumstances, don’t you think?”
“Did your grandmother believe what the fortune tellers told her?
” asked Antonetti.
“Oh my lord no. Grandma was home schooled, but she wasn’t a fool. She used to go to two fortune tellers. When I asked her which fortune she believed, she always said the one that made her feel better.”
The men laughed. “Your grandmother was one smart cookie, Ms. Williams,” said Martelli. “I only hope we’re as smart as she was because we’re going to need all the help we can get solving this case.”
“Well, Latonya, shall we get on with it?” asked Antonetti.
“Wait a minute, Michael. I also want a shot of the tattoo on her upper-right arm.” He snapped a picture of what appeared to be a serpent.
That done, Antonetti and Williams rolled the victim onto her back in preparation for completing the autopsy. Seeing the coroner and his assistant don their protective face shields, and with Antonetti now reaching for his Stryker saw, Martelli dropped the victim’s file at the end of the autopsy table and beat a hasty retreat for the door. “This I don’t need to watch,” he shouted over his shoulder. “I’m heading over to Dugan’s IT lab before I drive back to the First. Let me know what the pathology and ballistics labs have to say as soon as you get the test results, if you would.”
“I’ll get them to you, Louis,” said Antonetti as he started to cut into Lundquist’s skull. “The other data, including her fingerprints, are already in our system.”
Three
‘Jesus, Lou, you look a little green around the gills. Here, grab a chair and take a load off. Let me get you a cup of coffee.”
NYPD’s Principal Information Technology Specialist Missy Dugan put down her soldering iron, jumped from her tall work stool, and ran to the coffee warmer as Martelli pulled up a chair and sat. Dugan, NYPD’s answer to Peter Pan in size and spirit, glanced nervously at the two Swatch watches on her left wrist and saw they were showing the same time.
“I take it all is right with the world,” joked Martelli, knowing if the times differed, Dugan would have a problem, something neither her schedule nor her personality accommodated easily.
Dugan handed her favorite detective a steaming cup of coffee—black, no cream, no sugar—and then returned to her work stool, where she was soldering surface-mount electronic components to the motherboard of a failed e-mail server. “So, not feeling too hot this morning?”
Wheel of Fortune (Detective Louis Martelli, NYPD, Mystery/Thriller Series Book 6) Page 1