True Blue Detective

by Vito Zuppardo

  “Correct,” Lindsey said, taking a good drink of the water.

  Zack added his thoughts. “That leaves us with the rag with chloroform found on the floor.”

  “Again correct, Mr. Nelson. Then I asked myself, why is all of this happening within the same surroundings and with related people?” Lindsey took a deep breath. “I checked further, and Mr. Jackson Warren has been working at Riverside Inn for fourteen years, and before that he worked at Evergreen Rehab Center for eight years. That puts him at Evergreen when Mrs. Nelson and Mrs. Gonzales died.”

  Lindsey took a picture out of her briefcase and put it on the table. “Mr. Nelson, do you know who this is?”

  “That’s the son of a bitch who started my wife’s problems,” Zack said, picking the picture up. “He mugged her while she was getting into her car, skinny son of a bitch.”

  Lindsey laid another picture down. “This is Jackson ‘Jack’ Warren the way he looks today. Some fifteen years after he went to prison.”

  Zack couldn’t believe it. The younger picture of Jack looked like he weighed about a hundred and forty pounds with dark, black hair. He was six foot five and looked even thinner because of his weight. The updated picture showed about eighty pounds of muscle and his head was shaved.

  “That is what a few years in prison can do to you. You have nothing to do all day but work on your body and maybe plan revenge. Five years of steroids and you turn into the Hulk,” Lindsey said, putting the pictures back in her briefcase.

  The commander stood. “Lindsey, that is some incredible work. We still have to prove it. But this is something to look into.” He walked over to Zack and shook his hand. “I’m going to have to ask you and Dave to step outside and let us do some police work.”

  Zack stood up. “Thank you all for hearing us out; Mrs. Johansson, thank you, and may I ask you a question?”

  Lindsey shook her head, “Of course.”

  “We know Jack attacked my wife, and he went to prison for it. When did he get the job at Evergreen?”

  Lindsey frowned; it wasn’t her job to tell Zack all the details of Jack’s involvement. She peeked up at the commander and his head nod gave her the okay to proceed.

  “He didn’t go from prison directly to Evergreen. After prison, Jack joined the Army. We don’t know how he got accepted into the military, but he did eight years with two terms in Vietnam as a medic. That is how he got the job at Evergreen. He is a state board approved nurse.”

  Zack shook his head. “The Army trained him in the medical field, and he used it to kill people? For what?”

  “It could be a long-term plan of revenge, but we can’t prove it right now,” she said.

  Zack and Dave sat outside in the waiting room. It had taken about a half hour before anyone came out of the meeting. The first to leave was the assistant DA and Lindsey followed with Armando.

  Armando shook hands with Zack and Dave. “I can’t go into detail, but this is now a priority case. For now, you best stay at your son’s house. I’ll do what I can to have a police cruiser check in on you a few times during the night.”

  “Thank you, Armando. I appreciate everything you have done,” Zack said.

  Howard got the call to meet the men at the front entrance. It was a lot easier for Zack and Dave to go down the steps than going up. By the time they got to the bottom step, the limousine had pulled up to the curb.

  Howard opened the back door for them. “Everything went well, sir?”

  “Very well,” Zack said, getting into the backseat.

  Howard adjusted the rearview mirror. “Back to Willow Street, sir?”

  Zack looked up at him. “Yes, pick the ladies up, and then I need you to take us to lunch and back to Riverside Inn.”

  “Not a problem, sir,” Howard said.

  “What are we doing? Back to Riverside? Did you hear what Lindsey said?” Dave reached for a cocktail from the bar on the side of the limousine.

  “A little early in the day for a drink?” Zack said.

  “With you, it is never too early. You’re going to get us all killed,” Dave said, taking a shot of whiskey.

  Traffic was light going to Tom’s house, so the drive was quick. The car pulled up at the house, and Zack went into the house to get Pearl Ann and Emma Lou.

  “Howard, would you come in and help me?” Zack asked.

  Without hesitation, Howard followed him into the house.

  It didn’t take long, and they returned to the car. Howard was holding three file boxes, and at the direction of Zack, he put them in the trunk of the limousine. Emma Lou and Pearl Ann carefully walked down the steps and got in the car.

  Dave shouted to Zack, “I can’t fit the women and the duffel bag inside the car.”

  “Okay. Give me the bag,” Zack said taking it and lifting it into the trunk.

  “I’m so excited, is this another road trip?” Pearl Ann asked.

  “Sure, why not,” Zack shouted. “Howard, you know VJ’s on Olga Avenue?”

  “Sure I do, sir; best roast beef sandwiches in town,” Howard replied, looking at Zack in the rearview mirror.

  Zack motioned him in the mirror and said, “Then VJ’s it is.”

  “Oh, this is going to be fun,” Pearl Ann said.

  Dave set up four glasses on the mini-bar and poured each of their favorite cocktails and handed them out. “You’d better take this. I think by the end of the day, you might want to be plastered.”

  Pearl Ann took her glass and took a big sip. “Now, that is the way to start the day off.”

  “Who is this person?” Emma Lou asked, as she turned to Zack. He just smiled.

  “Live a little, Emma Lou. We’re on a road trip. I’m getting primed for, what did you say, VJ’s?” Pearl Ann asked. “VJ’s, is that one of those fancy French restaurants?”

  “You’d better take your expeditions down a notch,” Dave said, pouring Pearl Ann and himself another drink.

  Howard looked at the rearview mirror. “Mr. Zack, did I ever tell you I used to work for the security division of the London police?”

  “No, Howard, I was not aware of that,” Zack said very intrigued. “So, how long did you work security?”

  Howard glanced out of the driver’s side mirror, watching a car following them. “That is not the point, sir. Just be aware that I might have to make some unexpected turns, so hold on tight.”

  “What?” Zack asked as he got closer to the window that separated the driver from the passenger area.

  “There is a white Chevrolet that has been following us since we left uptown,” Howard said keeping an eye on the car.

  The limousine came to a stop at a traffic light. The white Chevrolet pulled up next to them.

  “Oh, crap! That is Diego driving, the thug who ran from the police at Patty’s funeral and the other guy is Wesley,” Zack said with some concern.

  Howard looked into the car and saw only two people. “Two people, sir. Do I need to go into protection mode?”

  “I don’t know what that means. But that is Diego, and I don’t think it is accidental that they pulled alongside us,” Zack said pointing at the car.

  Diego was sitting in the driver’s seat, and a gun became visible in the lower part of the window. Howard floored the limousine running the red light. “Hold on, folks. Everyone get down, NOW.”

  A gunshot went off, and Zack felt it hit the car. “We took a hit!” He checked to see if everyone was okay. Pearl Ann was smiling like she was on a ride at the amusement park, but he could clearly see Emma Lou and Dave were frightened. “We didn’t blow up, so he didn’t hit the gas tank.”

  “Howard, whatever protection mode means, I hope you’re in it,” Zack said trying to hold on. The roads on Carrollton Avenue were not the best when speeding in a car, much less in a limousine with a long chassis.

  The white Chevrolet was on their tail. Howard was pushing the limo at sixty miles an hour down Carrolton Avenue. The Chevrolet kept up with them, barely missing cars at the cross str
eets.

  Zack pulled hard on the top of the backseat. Dave and Pearl Ann looked at him like he was crazy. He gave it one more strong pull, and the seat back came down, displaying the trunk.

  “Dave, crawl into the trunk and get the duffel bag,” Zack said, trying to keep an eye on the Chevrolet.

  Howard could see the traffic ahead was slowing. It was the afternoon and the corner of Carrollton and St. Charles Avenue always had cars backed up. “Sir, all I can do is take River Road.”

  “Do it! We can’t stop, not just yet,” Zack said, holding the back of the seat so Dave could crawl into the trunk. Dave pulled the bag through the hole and gave it to Zack.

  The street was empty on River Road. The limousine got up to eighty-five miles an hour, and the Chevrolet stayed about thirty yards back.

  Another gunshot went off. This time, a bullet hit the back window and glass flew everywhere.

  “Where is a cop when you need one?” Emma Lou asked trembling.

  Zack took out an AK40 gun from the bag. It had been loaded by his friend, Ruben Taylor, from the evidence room at police headquarters. Now, he had only to take the safety off. Dave knew the drill. They had gone over it often, except Dave never thought they would ever have to use the guns. He picked up the Smith & Wesson .45 handgun.

  “Howard, can this limousine handle a complete U-turn?” Zack asked.

  “I need more room, sir. Hold on, we’ll turn in here,” Howard said as the limousine took a hard, right turn into an abandoned factory off the river. The Chevrolet almost flipped but made the turn and stayed with them.

  “Get ready,” Howard said. “A little closer; come on, a bit more. Are you ready?”

  Zack looked at Dave, and he shook his head, okay. “Do it!” Zack shouted.

  Just when the Chevrolet was about twenty yards in back of the limousine, Howard cut the wheel as far left as possible and accelerated. Then he slammed the breaks on. The massive long frame of the limousine cut a complete U-turn, and within seconds, the limousine was face to face with the Chevrolet. They knew it but could see nothing from the dust storm the limo made. When the dust settled, Zack and Dave came face to face with Diego and Wesley, holding their guns at each other in front of the Chevrolet. It was a standoff that Zack knew he would not win. His only choice was to shoot Raul and hope in that split second, Dave would take the other guy out.

  “Put your guns down!” Diego shouted.

  Zack thought he might have a shot at spraying bullets from the AK40 and taking them both out. But if they both didn’t go down, one of them would fire back. His options were getting slim and time was running out. He looked at both. It would be best to shoot Diego first. He squeezed the trigger slowly. There is no aiming with an AK40. You just spray bullets in the target’s direction and hope you hit something.

  “Last chance, old man; there’s a big reward for whoever takes you out,” Diego shouted out.

  Howard found a bottle of gin lying on the ground, most likely trash from a homeless person. From nowhere, a bottle of gin came flying over them all, smashing to the ground. It was enough time for them to be distracted and Howard, from the back of the car, fired two shots, one square into Diego’s head and the other into Wesley’s face.

  “Holy crap!” Dave shouted.

  Zack took Dave by the shoulder and got him in the car while Howard got behind the wheel. With Dave in the car and Zack barely closing the door, the limousine took off. It only took seconds, and the limousine was back on River Road cruising at the speed limit.

  “Everyone okay?” Zack asked.

  Dave was a little white, and Emma Lou and Pearl Ann were shaken up but fine.

  Howard looked at the rearview mirror at Zack. “Sorry, sir; they would have killed one of you or both.”

  “You did what you had to do, thank you, my friend,” Zack said.

  “So where do we go from here?” Howard said.

  “Can we still go to VJ’s?” Emma Lou asked as they all looked at her like she was plum crazy.

  “Sir, the two guys back there?” Howard asked Zack.

  “We could prove it was self-defense. But you used a gun that is supposed to be in the evidence room at police headquarters, and that could be a big problem for a lot of people,” Zack explained.

  Zack instructed Howard to pull to the curb by a pay phone at the entrance of a restaurant on St. Charles Avenue.

  Howard got out the car and handed the gun to Dave in the backseat. Then he went into the restaurant and washed his hands several times. The powder smell was still strong, so he asked someone in the restaurant kitchen for some vinegar. Taking some vinegar in his hands, Howard rubbed them together, and it took away the gunpowder smell and any dust left on his hands and coat sleeves.

  “Dave, on the weapon is a hang tag; read me the number,” Zack said standing by the pay phone outside the restaurant.

  “It’s 922435,” Dave said, as he cleaned the gun with a wet wipe.

  “Okay, make sure it is clean,” Zack said, as he dialed a phone number.

  “Hi, can you connect me with Ruben Taylor?” Zack asked the operator at police headquarters.

  “Ruben. Zack Nelson, I have 922435. I will drop it off to you in fifteen minutes,” Zack said fast enough for Ruben to realize he didn’t want to talk much.

  “I’ll be waiting for you,” Ruben quickly answered.

  It didn’t take long before Howard came out of the restaurant smelling like vinegar aftershave lotion.

  Dave smiled. “All you need are some creole tomatoes, and you’d make a great salad.”

  They were all back in the limousine. From a distance, they could hear police sirens coming down River Road and two more coming up St. Charles Avenue.

  “Could they have already discovered the bodies or did someone report the gunshots?” Zack asked.

  They all looked somewhat concerned, because there were a lot of cops heading toward an area where they had left two bodies lying on the ground.

  “Drive to police headquarters on Broad Street,” Zack told Howard.

  The limousine slowly pulled out onto St. Charles Avenue and drove to police headquarters at the speed limit, not causing any suspicion. They arrived at the front steps of the building. Zack’s heart dropped to his stomach when he saw Johnny Guidry coming out of the front doors with two police officers.

  “Ruben! I thought I could trust you,” Zack said in a whisper, as he gave Dave the gun to put under the seat.

  Johnny got to the bottom of the steps, and the two police officers turned to him and said, “Thanks for your help, Captain,” as they both got into a police cruiser.

  “Hi, Johnny,” Zack said trying to keep calm.

  “Ruben called me; he told me you had a package for him. You would have never gotten through security and screening with an item like this, so he asked me to come down and get it from you,” Johnny said.

  “I thought he turned on me,” Zack said in relief.

  “Never! You’re one of us,” Johnny said.

  “It will be in the evidence room in five minutes. There will be no proof the gun ever left the evidence room,” Johnny said, as he winked at Zack and turned to go back up the stairs.

  Zack stopped Johnny at the stairs, and then he paused, questioning himself if he should even ask the question. “By the way, we were uptown, and there was a lot of police activity around River Road. What happened over there?”

  Johnny turned back to the car. “Looks like a drug deal gone bad. Two gangbangers found dead in the street by the old mill factory. It sounds like the dealer took their money and kept the drugs,” Johnny said giving Zack a police salute.

  Zack turned to Howard concerned, “We have one problem, Howard.”

  “What is that, sir?”

  “All I wanted was to get out of there, and I forgot to pick up the two bullet casings,” Zack said with some anxiety.

  “Sir, I said I worked for the security police in London. Well, that wasn’t exactly correct. I used to work for a governme
nt agency and sometimes I had to clean things up. You know, something goes wrong, and I had to make it look like it never happened,” Howard said as he opened his hand and put the two bullet casings in Zack’s hand.

  Zack had a surprised look on his face. “Wow! You thought of everything; so, why are you driving a limousine? Is driving a front for something?”

  “Now, sir, I could tell you, but I would truly have to kill you,” Howard said glaring unemotionally.

  “Thank you, my friend, for all your help. No clarification needed.”

  Chapter 20

  Armando sat in the waiting room of the New Orleans district attorney’s office. The assistant district attorney, Bob Wells, finally came out.

  “He will see you now,” Bob said.

  Armando had never met the district attorney and had heard he was intimidating, but knew it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Gilbert James had arrested the worst of criminals and had every type of gun pointed at him; he was not easily intimidated.

  The district attorney stood up, and Bob introduced them. “Armando, this is District Attorney Gilbert James.”

  Armando extended his arm, and they shook hands. “A pleasure to meet you, sir, and thank you for meeting with me.”

  Gilbert sat down in his big, overstuffed, desk chair. “Please, sit down.”

  He was about six foot six and solidly built; one of the few former NFL players who did something with his education and used it after football. With his law degree from Louisiana State University and a former player of the New Orleans Saints, he was a shoo-in when the district attorney’s position became available. The election was a landslide and Gilbert didn’t even need a runoff. He must have been doing something right because he had been in office for seven years.

  Armando took a seat in front of his desk and pleaded his case. “Sir, I need a few days, and I can have this all put together, so Jackson Warren will never get out of jail.”

  “I have all I need right now to lock him up,” Gilbert said.

  “I know, sir. Your team has done a great job putting together the case. But I don’t want some high-powered attorney to get him off on a lesser charge and have him back on the street in three years,” Armando said.