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The Black Jester (Episode One, Kings of New Orleans Series)

Page 18

by Emily Ford

CHAPTER NINE: ALL-POINTS BULLETIN

  On the other side of town, a sleepy businessman is the first to arrive at the parking garage of the office building where the Black Jester left Larry and Carlisle dead on the cold cement floor. Shocked and horrified, the businessman makes the grisly discovery of the two dead bodies that still lie next to the still parked black cargo van from the night before.

  Soon after, Detective Jenkins gets word of the situation and orders the parking garage to be closed and blocked off until further notice. He rushes to the scene.

  Johnny had been on his way in to the police precinct when he gets re-routed to the scene. As one of the first law enforcement officers to arrive, he just finishes the interview with the shaken businessman and releases him from questioning when the Detective arrives.

  “What do we have?” the Detective asks him.

  “This gentleman found the two bodies, and the van. There was no one else around according to the witness,” Johnny answers.

  The Detective watches the witness as he reverses out of his parking spot in his grey BMW. Apparently he is too shaken by the scene to go to work. “Is our witness legit?”

  “Yes, sir, we’ve confirmed his identity with his boss. They said he’s usually the first to arrive in the morning.”

  “Did security see anything? Is there video footage?”

  Johnny sighs and shakes his head. “We haven’t been able to get a hold of the security office yet.”

  “Dammit. We need to get on this. I need to see some video!”

  “Who’s in charge here?” a voice demands from the parking garage elevator.

  The Detective watches as a dark haired man in a grey suit flanked by two bodyguards marches towards the crime scene. The suited man is visibly angry, his face flushed, and his chest heaving.

  “I’m Detective Jenkins, and who are you?” He extends his hand but the grey suit is in no mood to be cordial.

  “Detective? Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on here?” He points to the dead men by the van. “Those are my men. What the hell are my employees doing lying there dead?”

  The Detective realizes who the angry man with the Brooklyn accent is.

  “You must be Antonio Strong?” he asks.

  “You’re goddam right I am.”

  Johnny tenses. He and the Detective exchange a brief look.

  “Mr. Strong, these men work for you?”

  “Yes, genius, they do,” he says with a snort. “Well, they did. They can’t really work for me anymore, now can they!”

  The Detective ignores the sarcasm. “Mr. Strong, I’m curious. What are you doing in New Orleans?”

  “What am I doing in New Orleans? What is every other rich entrepreneur doing in New Orleans right now? I’m here for the business convention. Don’t you know what goes on in your own city?”

  The Detective stares hard into Antonio’s cold, dark eyes. “Mr. Strong, is there any other reason you’re here?”

  Antonio snorts again. “I’m here on business, Detective. Now, I think you should do your job, and find out who ganked two of my employees!”

  “Are you familiar with Apex Associates, Mr. Strong?”

  Antonio rolls his eyes and laughs. “If you want to ask me anything else, I’ll be referring you to my attorney. Meanwhile you should pull your head out of your ass, and do some real police work! Find out who did this!” he yells. “Let’s go,” he barks at his bodyguards and snaps his fingers. Antonio and his men storm back into the parking garage elevator.

  Johnny sighs after realizing he had been holding his breath. “Man, I don’t like that guy,” he says. “Do you think he’s really here for something else?”

  “Of course he is. He may have other business, but he’s here to find poor Rose.”

  Johnny bulks. “Rose?”

  “Yeah, his wife. She’s on the run from him. Rose White. She came into the station recently. So far all Danny’s found on her is that she’s fleeing from Brooklyn and ‘Rose White’ isn’t her real name.”

  “Wow. So even hundreds of miles and a name change weren’t enough to keep him from finding her,” Johnny murmurs.

  Johnny’s observation piques the Detective’s interest. He rubs his chin, thinking. “So that begs the question Johnny, how did he know she was here?”

  “Well, he seems to be a connected guy. Maybe he always knows where she is.”

  “Yeah,” he says, drifting off and theorizing the possibilities.

  “We can’t arrest him. He hasn’t done anything to her that we know of. Maybe we should check in with her? She’s obviously afraid of him, Detective. She came in for a self-defense class the other night.” Johnny says.

  “She did? Ah, she took my advice. You met her?”

  “Yeah. Nice girl. Seemed like something was bothering her.”

  “Okay, John. Why don’t you give her a call? Actually, no. I want you to follow her. You and get another team to watch her, take shifts. Let’s keep this girl safe. I don’t think she stands a chance against Mr. Strong without help.”

  Johnny claps his hands together. “This is why I became a cop, Detective. To protect people like Rose,” Johnny says, pumped about his new assignment to protect the girl.

  The Detective nods in agreement. He glances at the elevators, then down at the bodies. “I’m going to find out what kind of business Mr. Strong says he’s here for. Keep me in the loop. Let me know how our girl is doing.”

  “You got it,” Johnny says and jogs towards his vehicle.

  The Detective takes the elevator that Antonio and his men took to the sixteenth floor of the office building. When the elevator doors open, he sees a receptionist sitting at a large mahogany desk typing away at her computer. The young woman is professionally dressed in a maroon business suit and doesn’t look up when the Detective steps out of the elevator. It is only after he clears his throat and raps his fingertips on the desk counter when she gazes up at him over her black-rimmed glasses.

  “Can I help you?” she says, then looks back down at her computer screen.

  The Detective glances around the reception room. Its only contents besides the reception desk are two plush navy blue chairs and a large fake plant. Behind the receptionist is a closed set of double doors leading to the inner office area of the floor.

  “What company is this?”

  “This is an office of Apex Associates, sir,” she says.

  “Apex,” he repeats. “Who owns it?”

  She stops typing. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  The Detective pulls out his badge from the inside pocket of his blazer. He shows it to her and watches as her face remains expressionless.

  “I need to speak with Antonio Strong,” he says politely.

  The receptionist picks up her phone and dials. The Detective can hear a man’s voice answer. “There’s a police detective here to see Mr. Strong,” she says.

  He can’t make out the words, but the tone on the other end of the phone call is brisk. After a few brief sentences, the receptionist hangs up.

  “Mr. Connor will be right with you,” she says.

  “Connor? Who’s he?”

  “Harrison Connor is the owner of this building.”

  “Isn’t he the mayoral candidate?”

  The receptionist nods.

  Harrison Connor’s name is plastered all over the city. He’s ahead in every poll and is favored to win the mayoral election in the fall. It’s nearly impossible to go anywhere in the city without seeing his name or face on a poster, billboard, or newspaper.

  The double doors behind the receptionist open, and Harrison Connor’s bright smile is the first thing the Detective notices.

  “Hello, Detective,” he says cheerfully. He extends his hand and they shake.

  “Mr. Connor,” he replies, studying the mayoral candidate’s bright expression and handsome features. He’s as tall as the Detective and appears to be in his mid-thirties. His slicked back blonde hair, clear dark green
eyes, groomed eyebrows, and whitened teeth give him the likeness of a television actor. He has a powerful yet relaxed presence, and the Detective senses a larger-than-life ego.

  “It’s hard to go anywhere without seeing your face,” the Detective says dryly.

  Harrison chuckles. “Yes, but I guess that’s the point, if I want to win the election this fall. So, what brings you here?”

  “Are you aware of the incident in your parking garage last night?”

  “Yes,” Harrison says, cheerfulness fading. “I am so saddened and shocked by it. Have you caught the perpetrator yet?”

  “Not yet. Actually, we’ve been trying to get a hold of your security team.”

  “They aren’t answering? Oh goodness. I’m sorry. I just got in and Lucy here filled me in on what happened.”

  “Mr. Connor, I need to see the surveillance footage from the parking garage. You do have cameras, right?”

  “Yes, Detective, and you’re in luck because Lucy can bring up surveillance for us right here on her computer.” Harrison walks to Lucy and instructs her to bring up the video.

  While waiting on Lucy, the Detective asks his burning question. “And there’s one more thing. Antonio Strong came in here just a few minutes before me. What is the nature of his business here?”

  “Mr. Strong? Oh, well he is a potential business partner that has expressed an interest in investing in a project that my company is working on.” Harrison’s tone is plastic and innocent. “He’s actually one of many business investors I’m working with. And besides the fact that two of his men were senselessly murdered this morning, he seems to be a pretty upstanding gentleman.”

  “How long have you known Mr. Strong?”

  “Well, I just recently met him. We’ve convened a few times at the business conferences in town. Is there a problem, Detective?”

  “Here it is,” Lucy interrupts. She angles her computer monitor so both the Detective and Harrison can see it. “This is from last night.”

  The angle of the camera is such that it shows the black cargo van head-on as it drives into the garage and parks. They can see in the video that Larry and Carlisle get out of the van and go to the back. The van doors open and a third person is partially visible, but only the tops of the men’s heads can be seen. There is evidence of a scuffle, but the actual murders are not on the recording. Finally, a woman can be seen staggering quickly away from the van, but the dark, grainy footage is not clear enough to identify her. The third man in the mix runs towards the camera but veers off at an angle and disappears from view.

  “What the hell?” the Detective says as he sees the third man. “Is that what I think it is? Go back, and let me see him again,” he orders Lucy.

  Lucy rewinds the footage and plays it again. It clearly shows the Black Jester.

  “Is that a Jester costume? Holy shit,” he murmurs.

  Harrison gasps. “Detective, did that costumed fellow kill those men?”

  The Detective pulls his cell phone from his jacket pocket. “It appears that way,” he says. He hastily dials Johnny’s number.

  “Hello?” Johnny answers.

  “Johnny, I’ve got video,” the Detective says. He looks at Lucy. “Can you get me a copy of this?”

  Lucy nods. “Yeah, I can actually compress it and email it to you.” The Detective nearly throws his business card onto her keyboard. “Do that! As soon as possible,” he says. Forgetting about Antonio Strong and his conversation with Harrison, he rushes to the elevator and pushes the button. He’s thrilled that the elevator is still at the floor and he doesn’t have to wait for it to come back up.

  “Johnny, I’m headed to the station, I’ve got a picture of this son of a bitch.” The elevator door opens and he steps in and turns around, vaguely aware of the puzzled look on Harrison’s face. “Uh, thank you Mr. Connor, I’ll be in touch,” he calls out quickly, the doors closing before Harrison can respond.

 

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