True Blue Detective

by Vito Zuppardo

  Gilbert sat in his chair thinking and looked away, which was a good thing. The more time he took, the better the chances were that Armando would get his way. Armando looked around the room. His office was impressive with pictures of the district attorney with two presidents of the United States and a lot of pictures of him in his early NFL days.

  “You sure this is not personal, Armando?” he asked.

  “Sir, I would be lying to say it is not personal. I believe Jack and the Cornerview Gang have some connection. They tried to kill my friend, Zack, and me. Yes, it is personal but only because I want to see justice.” Then he stared at Gilbert and waited for a response.

  “Okay, you have forty-eight hours. After that, we go in and arrest this Jack Warren. Understand?” the high-powered District Attorney Gilbert James sternly said.

  Armando quickly stood up and shook his hand. “Thank you, sir. Forty-eight hours,” he said as he walked to the door and opened it.

  “Not forty-nine, Armando. Forty-eight hours, don’t call me for an extension.”

  “No sir, forty-eight it is,” he said closing the door.

  His first call was to Zack to make sure his group of friends was safe. He called several times but never found them. He drove over to Tom Nelson’s house and found Emma Lou and Pearl Ann working in the front garden. Disappointing to Armando was that he discovered Zack and Dave went back to Riverside Inn after filing a complaint with the police department on Jack’s alleged assault on Mrs. Cabibi.

  Emma Lou stood and took her garden gloves off. “He said he had unfinished business, and he just had to settle things with Jack. We tried to stop him, but there was no talking him out of it.”

  “I’m having a patrol car come over and sit in front of the house. You need to get inside,” Armando said with some concern.

  “Are we at some risk?” Emma Lou asked.

  Armando stood by his open car door. He didn’t want to alarm her but needed the women out of the front yard. After what happened to him at the café, they should have stayed inside until this blew over. “At this point, I’m not taking any chances. A patrol car will be here soon.” That was all that had to be said, and the ladies picked up their tools and headed for cover.

  Given forty-eight hours to come up with more criminal charges to put Jack behind bars for many years was no problem. He now had all the help and resources he needed. He made a call to the commander, and within minutes two police cruisers were sitting in front of Tom Nelson’s house. With two officers sitting on the back porch and two in the front, no one was getting into the house without passing them.

  Armando arrived at Riverside and found Zack and Dave having lunch in the dining room like any other day. He got a cup of coffee and took a seat with them at the table. He stayed calm until he got to the table and took a seat. “Are you crazy?” Armando asked, whispering and barely opening his mouth.

  Zack leaned back in his chair. He had come to terms with this problem and was relaxed and ready to pursue whatever it took to have this end. “I have a plan.”

  “You have a plan?” Armando repeated.

  “Yes, it will go down tonight. I’m sure Jack will make one more attempt to kill me. He can’t help himself.”

  Dave chimed in for what it was worth. “He’s right; Jack is desperate. He will do it himself, tonight.”

  Armando couldn’t believe what he was hearing. These guys would kill themselves. Armando explained how they could help him, but he needed an old car and maybe even Dave to assist. They suggested Andrew’s old Toyota truck he used for moving plants from the nearby nursery.

  “That is perfect,” Armando said.

  They got the truck, and Armando explained how Dave would help.

  “You need to put on some old clothes—almost looking homeless,” Armando said.

  “That should not be hard to do,” Zack quickly interjected.

  Armando set the plan up with Dave and Zack. He went over the details with Dave and showed him an envelope with a note in it. On the top of the envelope was written Lucia Jones. He also handed him a list of items he needed to buy.

  “They call her Ms. Lucy, so make sure you say her name loud and clear,” Armando said, handing him the envelope.

  “You sure this is going to work?” Zack asked.

  Armando assured him this was how to gather information before they came down on Jack. Dave drove the Toyota truck, and Armando and Zack followed in the unmarked police car.

  Zack sat in the passenger seat, the anticipation was growing. “I feel like I’m going on a stakeout.”

  “More like undercover,” Armando said with a slight smile.

  The first stop was a supermarket on Carrollton Avenue and Canal Street. Dave parked the car and went inside while Armando and Zack waited. Dave roamed the aisles getting all the items on the list. Dave arrived back at the truck and put the two bags of goods on the front seat. He started the truck and drove off, watching his rearview mirror to make sure Armando was following. Armando’s car pulled out shortly after, and he and Dave continued down the street. He made his way to the foot of Esplanade Avenue and Frenchmen Street and parked on the side road as he was told to do. Armando pulled up behind him. They looked around, and the street was quiet. It was too early for gang members to be up and around, cruising the streets. Only a few people were out, mostly older ladies cleaning the front porch steps. The residents felt safe during the day, but as the day grew later, they were safer behind their closed doors.

  Armando got out of his car and walked over to Dave in the truck. “You’re ready?”

  Dave answered, “Let’s do it.”

  Armando pointed at the corner. “Turn left at the corner. At the end of the block on the right side is the only two-story, white house. It is very weathered. The address is 2900 Frenchmen Street. Pull up at the edge of the house and call for Ms. Lucy. She is hard of hearing and stays up late at night so call loudly; she might be sleeping.”

  “Got you,” Dave replied.

  “Tell her to send her basket down. Put the bag of groceries in the basket with the letter on top. Pull the basket back up to her and wait for her to send the basket back down to you. Once you have her note, get the hell out of there,” Armando said, extending his hand. “Good luck, my friend.” They shook hands.

  Dave pulled the truck to the corner, looked for traffic, and slowly turned left on Frenchmen Street. His heart was in his mouth. Armando had pointed out that Dave was the only person he could trust with this. The gang members knew Armando, and a few knew Zack. While it sounded like a good idea to Dave back at Riverside Inn, it was a little too real now.

  Dave parked on the side of Lucy’s house and got out of the truck. He tried to focus on what he was to do, but gang members were all around. Sitting on the back porch, sitting in windowsills from the apartment they’d claimed years earlier. It was scary, but Dave knew he had to come through. “What happened to the part that it’s too early for gang members to be up and around?” he asked himself.

  Dave took the grocery bag and looked up at the window. “Ms. Lucy.” He slipped the envelope into the bag. It rested right on top of the cookies where she would have to see it first.

  Zack and Armando watched from the street corner a block away. It was far enough not to be noticed but close enough if Dave needed help.

  A few gang members heckled Dave but never left their porch. One said, “What’s in the bag, old man?”

  Dave just looked up and gave another yell. “Ms. Lucy.”

  He heard the window open. “Ms. Lucy, I have some groceries for you.”

  “Who are you? I don’t know you,” Ms. Lucy asked.

  The gang members flowed into the street, and one said, “Old man, what’s in the bag?”

  Dave panicked. “Ms. Lucy, I’m from the agency. Send down your basket.”

  She lowered the basket as a gang member pushed Dave. He tried to keep the bag high, but the guy looked in and took the cookies. Dave panicked, put the bag to his side and looke
d in, finding the envelope had fallen to the bottom of the bag.

  Zack looked from the corner and told Armando, “We have to do something. They are going to jump him.”

  Armando focused on the basket coming down. It was slow but getting close to Dave.

  “We have to help him. Now!” Zack said, pushing on Armando.

  “If we abort now, we’re done,” Armando said, keeping focused on the basket. “He’s got it.” They could see from a block away the basket got to Dave, and he put the groceries in the basket. It was being pulled back up to Ms. Lucy.

  Dave and Armando looked on. Now it was a waiting game to hope she would see the envelope. It took a while to get the basket to Lucy. Its reverse pulley allowed the person on the ground to pull it back up to her. It was much easier for her to let the basket down, but at her age, she needed help to get the basket back up to her. Dave pulled as fast as he could, not wanting to have anything fall out of the basket. It made it to the top, and Ms. Lucy took the bag out of the basket.

  She pulled the items from the bag and put them on her kitchen table. She had been through the routine before. She was getting up in age but still sharp. There was always an envelope in the grocery bag, a thank you for information given, or just a sweet note asking about her health, and a little cash. It was the only family she had, and for the past twenty years, she was the best gang informant the police department had. She pulled the envelope from the bag and read the note with one hand while stuffing five, twenty-dollar bills into her pocket.

  Ms. Lucy, I hope all is well with you. I need some help; anything you might have overheard from the boys below? We have an interest in big Jack. Has he been around? Was his name brought up by other gang members? Anything would help.

  Dave had stayed at the bottom of the rope until Lucy sent her note down. The gang members were getting rowdy, surrounding Dave.

  “Come on, Ms. Lucy, you’re going to get me killed,” Dave whispered to himself.

  From the corner, Zack and Armando looked on, concerned that the process was taking too long. They never expected the gang members to be up and around so early in the day. Their plan was to get in and out quickly.

  The basket with the usual bag of trash in it was coming down. That was the only form of communication Lucy had without someone being suspicious. Groceries went up, and trash came down.

  As the basket got closer to Dave, someone pushed him, making him unstable, but he held his ground. Armando knew it was getting out of hand. If everything went as usual, a note from Lucy was in the trash bag. He couldn’t take a chance of a gang member seeing the information she might supply.

  A man was coming toward Armando on a bicycle. He looked down the street at Dave. He had the basket but was being pushed around as the gang members were pulling at the trash like it was gold.

  Armando flashed his New Orleans police badge at the guy on the bike, and he quickly gave it up. Armando jumped on the bike and peddled fast toward Dave. It was too late. A gang member got the note, and he could see he was reading it. He peddled faster and came from behind the guy and pulled Lucy’s letter from his hand.

  “Get in the truck!” Armando shouted to Dave.

  The momentum of the speed on the bike put Armando at the middle of the block before he could stop, passing the gang by thirty yards. Dave pulled up with the truck, and Armando hurled the bike in the back and got in with Dave. They drove fast down the street and were hit with bottles and rocks as they drove in front of the gang members.

  They got to the corner and gave the guy his bike back. The guy was in a daze about what was going on but relieved that he got his bicycle back. Zack jumped into the truck with Dave, and they took off while Armando jogged over to his car.

  Dave was traveling at a high rate of speed down Esplanade Avenue before he realized he was far away and no one was following him. “Holy crap,” he shouted.

  “That was great police work,” Zack said as they both laughed and took a deep breath.

  Armando pulled up at Riverside Inn just as Dave and Zack came from the garden area returning Andrew’s truck. The house was busy with everyone roaming around after lunch. They saw Christie in the doorway of Jack’s office, laughing in conversation with someone who they could only imagine was more than likely Jack. One by one they met in Zack’s room and avoided running into Jack. It was the first chance they had to read Ms. Lucy’s letter, and Armando opened it.

  “Look at this; she is from the old school. Look at the penmanship,” Armando said, showing them the note. “Every word was written perfectly. With all the computers now, you just don’t see handwriting like this. People just don’t write letters or notes anymore.”

  Armando read the short letter out loud, “My dear friend, things are worse than ever. I hear gang members celebrating killing people. I have seen big Jack come by several times recently, shouting because something went wrong. Detective Armando’s name and other names I’m not familiar with are discussed. It might be the last time you hear from me for I have heard my name said too many times and not in a good way. Be careful and thank you for all you have done for me over the years.”

  Armando lifted his head. “Signed, Ms. Lucy. Look at the date. She wrote this a week ago. She must have been waiting for us to come by.”

  Zack sat on the bed rubbing his eyes. “This is getting scary; you think you and Lucy are in danger?”

  “Sure sounds like it,” Dave said.

  Armando did his usual roaming around the room while he was thinking; then he quickly stopped. “I should go to Jack’s office and beat the crap out of him; he’s running the Cornerview Gang right under our noses.”

  “We need a better plan than that, although beating the crap out of Jack isn’t a bad idea,” Zack said with some enthusiasm in his voice.

  Out of nowhere, they heard a woman screaming, “He has a gun.” Then it sounded as if she ran to her room and slammed the door. Armando drew his weapon and looked out the door down the hall. Zack followed right behind him and saw a guy standing in front of Jack’s office door.

  “That is Barry Hampton, Christie’s husband. Holy crap! He finally caught on to her and Jack’s affair,” Zack said.

  Armando motioned for Zack to go back inside as he slowly walked toward Jack’s office. He held his gun out firmly in front with one hand on the trigger, and the other keeping the gun steadied.

  “Come out, asshole,” Barry shouted into the office, standing tall in his construction overalls and boots. “Come on out; I’ll kick your ass, Mr. Bodybuilder.”

  Christie came out of the office, tucking her shirt into her green scrubs. “Barry, please, it’s not what you think.”

  “Is he your drug pusher?” Barry asked, pushing her to the side. “Are you my wife’s drug supplier?” he asked Jack, stepping into the office. Barry plowed into Jack; one punch to the face, another punch to the mid-chest; hard enough for Jack to double over.

  Armando stepped in, pointing his gun squarely at Barry’s back, “Hold up, sir, and back away.” No gun was visible on Barry. He pushed his gun into Barry’s back and patted him down; he was sure Barry had no weapon. Jack regained his mobility and all but laughed at Barry, although he was holding his stomach and visibly shaken.

  Barry looked back at Armando, “What are you going to do, shoot me in the back?”

  Before Armando could say a word, Barry took one more punch at Jack’s jawbone. Jack hit the wall and slid down to the floor. Jack never saw it coming and never got off a punch, “Now you can have him, officer,” Barry said looking down at Jack.

  “Don’t move. Put your hands behind your back,” Armando demanded, and Barry complied.

  The police arrived, and Armando clarified that he was the officer in charge. Shortly after, the paramedics arrived and assisted in getting Jack off the floor and attended to him. Armando, with two staff members, escorted Barry to another room farther away from Jack and started the interview process. It was way more than a domestic issue, and it gave Armando a shot at ask
ing questions that might cause Jack to slip up and answer, even those not related to this dispute.

  Dave and Zack looked on and were impressed with Armando; him jumping into action when needed got Zack’s juices pumping and made him miss the police force, even if it was for the moment.

  The paramedics finished with Jack. He had a few bruises and a jaw that should have broken had he not been in such good shape. His neck muscles tightened and took most of the blow. Armando sat in front of Jack, face to face, while two other police officers blocked the doorway.

  It was time for Armando, the good cop, to show up and question Jack. “You’ve had one hell of a day. First, you got hit with a Taser, and then you were attacked. So, man, what was that all about?”

  Jack tried to regroup himself from complete embarrassment. “I have no idea. She is going through a separation, and this guy will not leave her alone.”

  “Well, he is still her husband. What is all the drug talk about?” Armando said as he looked at Jack’s facial expression as he absorbed the question. Jack gave every telltale sign possible, making Armando confident he was guilty.

  “I have no idea. Drugs! Come on, man, I’m a medical professional. I don’t do drugs,” Jack said, once again looking down and not directly at Armando’s face. Once again, a telltale sign he was outright lying.

  Armando turned his head to the side. “Maybe just a little, maybe some pot?”

  “Come on. Yeah, who hasn’t done a little pot, okay?” Jack replied.

  “I know a little pot, a little sex, and it makes everything better. We’ve all done it,” Armando said waiting for his response.

  “Yeah! Then you know where I’m coming from,” Jack said as if he was almost trusting Armando with his little secret.

  Armando stood up. “Why don’t you level with me? You and this Christie gal are having a little sex, using a few drugs, and the husband is out in the cold. I mean, he’s not getting high and certainly not getting laid, as least not with Christie. Is that the picture? Because I don’t care.”

  “Something like that,” Jack replied.