A Courtroom Massacre

By Mark Porto

Johnny Bellow arrives home from the Navy to discover a gang had taken over the town. They decide to rob his parents's store, but he kills the gang. Johnny is convicted of manslaughter and sent to prison. It is there where he sees a pattern and decides to do something about it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781626752771

Book preview

9781626752771

CHAPTER ONE

Johnny Bellow got off the bus on a Saturday morning in mid-September, dressed in his naval uniform. When the rain started to pour, he rushes into his parents’ grocery with his head covered barely by his naval cap.

Johnny and his parents live in Black Meadows, New York. It’s a small community in the southwest quadrant of Tappan County, which was surrounded by a small mountain range from Appalachia, ten miles north of Yonkers.

He puts on his green apron and glances outdoors, it was then his mother rushes up to him to give him a kiss, welcoming him home. Johnny blushes as his mother returned to one of the two cash registers located in the aisle near the door; the other register was operated by a clerk.

Sal Bellow hugs his son as Johnny heads for the back room. They talk briefly about the service as Johnny enters the back room to take inventory.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash causing some to look outside and saw a group of young men taking loads of trash that were supposed to be collected and throwing them as well as the cans into the street. This followed with the taking of objects and smashing the windows of the other businesses. The gang’s leader took out a gun, he points and fires shots in the air while yelling indecipherable sounds. They disperse when the police arrived.

About a half an hour later, Jeffrey McKinley and his wife walked in while Anita was talking to a customer about coupons. He walks over to the newspaper stand near the divider.

As Johnny was stocking the shelves, Anita puts cash in the register. Mr. McKinley walks over to Anita to discuss the affairs of the city.

Jeff frowns as Anita closed the register; she went back behind the partition with her fist clenched under her chin. Her other arm rested on the counter next to a stack of financial periodicals. Anita, you haven’t heard?

She shrugs her shoulders. No, what is it?

Jeff informs her there was a gang terrorizing the town. Anita said she noticed a group of youths throwing trash and cans in the street. He leans against the wooden stand. "I should’ve realized you’ve been busy and haven’t had time to read the newspaper. There are five members to this gang, who’ve been wreaking havoc in Black Meadows for the past month!"

Anita raises her eyebrows.

Jeffrey wants to call a town meeting to discuss the matter. I’ve been talking to quite a number of people, but they don’t want to get involved. His eye squints, while the fingers on his right hand twitch. Did you know they attacked Elise Durant last night?

Anita gasps. Don’t they know she’s in her eighties?!

Jeff’s face is red, his arms folded while holding a rolled newspaper. They don’t care. Elise though, whacked one of them across the jaw with her cane. They took off when a group of people came out from a party.

Sal came out to look around and saw Jeff. He talks with him for a few minutes. Jeff told him about the gang, the incident involving Mrs. Durant and a possible town meeting. You’ve known the family long enough to know we mind our own business.

They don’t care! It’s gotten so bad I recently purchased a gun to protect me and my family. Jeff asks about Johnny. The last time I was here, he was working in an auto parts factory and serving in the Naval Reserve, does he still work at both?

Sal said Johnny works a lot of overtime at the factory, especially when there was a big order. He recently was promoted to line supervisor.

Anita says to Jeff with a smile, This area is still a nice neighborhood. Thank you for your concern.

Johnny overhears the conversation and came out while Jeff and his wife were shopping around the store. He asks him where he bought his gun.

When Jeff’s wife wasn’t within listening distance, he took the young man aside and made it very clear what he was about to say couldn’t be said in public.

I want to buy a shotgun. Johnny whispers.

Jeff emphasizes whatever he told him to keep it quiet, because there were politicians in Albany who opposed what he was doing.

"Why not, Mr. McKinley, doesn’t the Second Amendment to our constitution guarantee American citizens the right to bear arms?"

Jeff has to withhold a loud laugh. Tell that to Albany! He explains about a state senator in 1911 named Big Tim Sullivan, who sponsored a bill limiting who could and couldn’t own a firearm. "It’s known as the Sullivan law. Our senator is very fond of it."

You mean Senator Croydon favors gun control? Isn’t he a republican?

"He’s the also the county chairman of the party, but he’s a party hack and a republican in name only." Jeff continues telling Johnny where to get weapons while he swept the floor.

A few days later, Johnny, after his shift at the factory ended, went to the gun shop; it was nestled between two large buildings on Market Street, located just outside the downtown area.

Upon walking in, the smell of gunpowder and kerosene infiltrates Johnny’s nostrils. As he approaches the counter that had several guns, both intact and taken apart, he leans forward and inquired about Jack.

A gruff looking and sounding clerk dressed in a flannel shirt grumbles as he was cleaning his gun rack. He motions for him to come into the back room where a cigar chomping, middle aged man seated behind a messy, rusty desk. Suddenly, the obese man stood, blocking the light from the window behind him. He roars with a roguish smile, So, Mr. Jeff sent you, how do I know you’re not a cop?

Johnny holds onto a rail shivering inside, opened his coat showing he wasn’t wearing a wire.

Jack walks around his office cleaning out his pipe and reloading it with tobacco with one hand, and another on a pistol. Have you ever served in the military?

His abrupt and raspy laugh and oration startles Johnny with the mounds of papers on his desk hiding the smile.

Yes, sir, I’m in the Naval Reserves.

Jack’s bulging stomach was up and down and laughing. What, sir – I’m Jack! His rotund arm wraps around his shoulders. He shows the young sailor an array of weapons. Do you see anything you like?

Johnny’s face illuminated gazing at the display while picking up a Winchester model rifle. I like this 12-gauge is good, even though you say the carbine was better.

Jack charged him $25 and threw in a box of shells, Johnny paid him in cash and left.

The next day, Johnny inquired about obtaining a gun license. The county clerk said the process took three to four months with letters of recommendation from three or four character references.

Johnny thanks her and went to a naval base in Connecticut and fills out a form. He requested a Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum, upon showing identification.

Harry, who was a petty officer, hands him the gun with a couple of clips that contained fifteen rounds in the magazine and reminds him to return the weapon when he was finished using it. He asks. Johnny, why did you join the reserves, instead of active duty?

Johnny said he wanted to join the military, but he began working at the local auto parts factory. The pay was higher than most places in Black Meadows.

Bellow’s grocery is located in downtown Black Meadows; the building which is housed in an older building that survived the wrath of the city’s Beautification Project. The project was successful in getting a strip mall built. Bellow’s grocery was originally slated for demolition, but Sal and Anita Bellow successfully petitioned the members of the city council. Jeff McKinley agreed with them and assisted them in preserving the building.

Johnny is sitting in the break room, a few days later, when he saw the day’s newspaper, which was lying face up on the table. The headline read: YOUNG COUPLED ATTACKED: Gang Suspected.

After reading the article, he looked to the coworker. I understand what the hell is going on in this town!

The coworker, who sits across the table drinking a soda with his sandwich and chips, he got out of the machine, merely shrugs his shoulders. His round droopy face is full center as he finished the sip. That’s the way it goes in this town and every place nowadays.

Johnny is puzzled with his arms crossed. Is that all you can say?

His lips straighten. Well, what do you want me to say? It’s the way things are today. The system does what it wants and I’ve got my own business without worrying about others.

It doesn’t make it right. Johnny said, It’s not a question of worrying about others, it’s a matter of being concerned about what’s going on around you.

What do you suggest? The man says looking in another direction eating some chips.

Johnny makes a monumental effort not to get angry, but his face was red. These people have to be stopped. He said trying not to raise his voice. I believe the people of this city should get together and make our concerns known to the city and state legislatures.

What, engage in a vigilante committee? Next thing you know, you’ll suggest people taking to the streets?

Johnny says it was obvious he wasn’t listening. It’s better than wallowing in fear.

Yeah, the police would only come after ya.

I’m talking about having a committee and in the event of catching them in the act; we have to use the law to stop them. We need, at the same time, to defend ourselves.

The man whines. Even if you did, the police would still arrest you for assaulting them.

In that event, you’d sue them!

The man continues to whine, made an abrupt wave and walks out.

Just then, another coworker entered the room; he is watching Johnny reading the same article in the newspaper and remarks. I see you got into a tiff with Claude.

Johnny puts down the paper and sits back, he tells Jack about the headline as well as Claude’s attitude. I don’t understand why people aren’t riled by this behavior and I wasn’t being obnoxious about what should be done.

Jake Hall explains people were so consumed with their own lives, they didn’t feel they should be involved.

Johnny is exasperated at the attitude of the people in the community; he felt the people were cowards. It sounds unfair, but there you are.

Jake takes a deep breath. Maybe they figure they’ve got a lot to lose by making waves.

"That’s nonsense; this country wouldn’t have been established without people who were not afraid to challenge the system."

Jake laughs and agrees with him. He tells him Claude and his wife was the type who was afraid of their own shadow. They would not even attend a council meeting concerning a halfway house for felons, yes; all their other neighbors were there. Fortunately, the council rejected the house.

As the leaves fell from the trees that morning, Johnny is in the back room taking inventory while studying to earn a college degree at the University of Knickerbocker, just north of Yonkers, he was scheduled to graduate that December.

When the store opens, Janice is at the cash register as the customers began trickling in.

Around midday, a large fat kid came in with a group of friends. He takes a pack of cigarettes, while his friends grab a case of beer. At the checkout, Janice requests they show their IDs. Why should I show you my ID? I look eighteen! He takes another pack of cigarettes and threw it on the floor.

Janice continues to smile and wants his ID.

The kid storms past the counter with the pack in his hand, saying he wasn’t going to pay for it.

Sal comes out and orders the kids to put the cigarettes and beer back.

Suddenly, the large fat kid pulls out a gun and points in at everyone in the room. The kid’s four minions follow suit with their weapons drawn, amid the screams from Janice.

Everyone raises their arms as the large kid’s crimson face matches the rage in his soul. He sees Anita behind the partition and orders her out at gunpoint.

She slowly walks to the register and hands them the money. The kid grabs her by the hair and pushes her to the ground. He then instructs one of the followers to collect the rest of the loot.

Johnny watches from the door as soon as the events unfold, when he saw his mother assaulted, he calmly gets his pistol and shotgun, holding them in his left and right hands respectively.

The kid shouts to Sal and Anita while they and everyone in the store is down on the floor, holding the money forcibly taken. Is this all you’ve got? He stuck the gun in Sal’s face while shouting profanity.

Anita was allowed to go to the safe to give the gang some more money as Sal offers to give them his wallet.

The kid snatches it and yells. It’s still not enough! You people make more money than this! He grabs Sal’s right lapel when the sweat pours down their faces. The kid shakes him demanding more money.

All of a sudden, Johnny storms the room, after phoning the police, with the weapons lowered to his sides. Hey, you, you’ve got the money, now get your hands off my parents!

The kid looks and points his pistol at Johnny, as Johnny opens fire. The blast soars with a fury and a blaze and the smell of smoke from the barrel. The bullet catapults the fat kid through the front window with the name, "Bellow’s Grocery", which faced the north end of Market Street. The glass shatter all over the front lawn and sidewalk as the bystanders across the street scream at the sight of the large kid landing on the sidewalk.

Two other gang members try to shoot Johnny, but he pulls out his pistol and shoots them. Two others got killed in the exchange of gunfire, in an attempt to defend his comrades, even though, Johnny orders him to drop his weapon.

During the blasts of gunfire, there was a lady carting a supermarket basket along Market Street who falls to the ground during the exchange.

The sirens blare throughout the city in conjunction with an array of flashing red lights that could be seen all over downtown. When the paramedics arrive, they examine the five bodies of the gang members before carting them to the county morgue in body bags.

The police arrive and Sergeant Jim Martinelli collect the information, the officer told the Bellow family he didn’t think there would be charges filed, because it appeared to be self-defense. He illustrates to Johnny it was a dangerous thing to do.

Johnny steps forward to say he had a right to defend his family.

After an hour, the family returns to their home. Anita had been making coffee and walked into her room to give her son and husband a cup of coffee. "Johnny, I appreciate what you did, but do you have to sign out those guns?" She sat down shaking her cup while trying to drink it.

Johnny reminds her he was twenty-two years old, and was in the service. Ma, I‘m not a, reckless person. His face flushes. I don’t understand why you refused medical treatment after that jerk pushed you to the ground!

Anita tells him she didn’t think it was necessary.

Just in case something is wrong, you should let a doctor see it.

Sal had a newspaper in his hand, Son, we’re going to be alright. Besides, you’re not going to be charged with a crime.

Johnny feels restless prompting the need for a walk.

The next day was Sunday and the family went to church. The church was St. Andrew by the river; it had two steeples which sharply pointed to the sky. Upon sunset, the steeples were silhouetted along with the other buildings in the small city.

The church’s pastor, Father Bryan is a gray haired older gentleman who stood erect and wore a hat whenever it was cold or inclement weather. When he walked by the Bellow family, he normally greeted them, but this morning he wore a scowl and snubbed them.

This was the beginning, in the next few days, Johnny and his family would be plunged into the paradox of disbelief and horror and the community which, at first, supported what he did; would change their minds.

CHAPTER TWO

Cain Lipshutz lies in a casket at a posh funeral home in Knickerbocker. He was dressed in a gray suit with a white shirt and black tie, which complimented the gray casket and its silver chrome trim. The hands of the deceased are folded as his wavy blonde hair was neat and intact.

The leader of the gang didn’t come from the wrong side of the tracks he attended prep school and was thrown out of college after being caught attacking young women. Subsequently, he diversified his actions by leading a robbery and terror spree.

Elaine Lipshutz was his mother, throughout the wake; she blows her nose while using one tissue after another. Her husband, Jerry joins to view their son’s remains before calling hours.

Her brother is Ronald Schuyler Croydon, the local state senator. He comes in to hold his sobbing sister’s hand and consoling his brother-in-law. A tear was present in his left eye, kneeling before the casket shaking his head while saying a prayer.

Elaine is crying while looking at Ron telling him he had to do something, her eyes burn trying to dry them with another tissue, as she holds her brother’s hand.

He explains discussed the matter with the district attorney and he determined the incident was declared self-defense.

When she maintained composure, Elaine grabs his arm. You don’t understand! He may have been a hooligan, but not a killer.

Ron reminds her Cain attempted to hold up a store and was armed.

He was rebelling, lots of kids do this.

Ron’s eyes soften trying to comfort his grieving sister. Yes, but many of them don’t try to shoot everyone in sight.

I don’t understand, our state has the strictest gun control laws, how did this Bellow character get these guns.

Ron explains since Mr. Bellow was in the military, he could sign out weapons and shotguns aren’t licensed. Listen, you have to understand, Cain took a risk with his behavior and there’s very little I can do.

Elaine implores him. Ronnie, please do something!

Her husband Jerry came by and Senator Croydon recommend he let her vent her anger.

Jerry Lipshutz is an attorney with the senator’s old law firm; he told him about an announcement by State Supreme Court Justice Ronald Roy was going to retire later this year, I interested in seeking the seat, but Elaine forbids it.

The senator rubs his chin.

A couple of days later, Senator Croydon and Judge Roy walk into the Butterfield Restaurant in downtown Knickerbocker. Their booth is located in a room which played soft music while florescent lights lit the beige-colored rooms. The judge sat majestically as his salt and pepper hair was shining in the light.

Both men were given menus when the judge spoke of his retirement. He explains if he sought another fourteen year term, he’d only be able to serve another year, before being placed in mandatory retirement. I’ve served my time and I want to live out the rest of my life.

The senator said, You and I go along way back, what’s the real reason.

When the waiter was not in listening distance, the judge leans over and whispered there was a terrific position at the firm of Fleeceman & Howe.

Ron’s wastrel smile didn’t change while he wiping his mouth with a quilted napkin and comments it was where he and his brother-in-law practiced law.

The judge’s eyes implore him in deference. Do you know of anybody who you would like to replace me in the judgeship? He smiles as the wine was being poured.

The senator took another mouthful of keesh and subsequently suggests Judge Rex Lexington. He reminds the judge about Lexington’s seventeen years on the bench and has been passed over a couple of times for the position, because when the Democrats took the governor’s mansion three years ago, they decide to appoint their own in the thirteen Judicial District.

Roy chuckles after consuming more wine. Rex has a better temperament than me. I remember when I was first elected county judge; he had to stop me from screaming at defendants and some lawyers and prosecutors.

What did he do to subdue your fiery nature?

The judge tries to talk without bursting out laughing. One day, it was the end of my first year as county judge and they planned to play a practical joke on me by replacing my gavel with a zucchini. Both men had difficulty containing their laughter.

Judge, let me pass along your recommendation to the committee and you should hear from me shortly.

About a week and a half after the shootings, Johnny stops by the grocery store after his shift from the factory to help them out in the store. Upon walking into the place, a black and white police car pulls into the parking lot. A normally jovial Sgt. Martinelli’s frown and stern walk whipped along the fallen leaves, he made it clear to Sal and Anita, and this wasn’t a social call."

Anita is holding a couple of cups of coffee. Is there something wrong?

The Sergeant’s commanding voice soaks through the room; there was an accompanying officer, who put handcuffs on Johnny as Martinelli remarks. We’re taking you in for those shootings. He motions for the officer to take Johnny to the car.

Johnny stares intensely into his eyes while both were red. Wait a minute! I thought the district attorney ruled the deaths were self-defense!

I’m sorry; I have to take you in. Martinelli and the other officer escort him to the police car. Anita watches in horror while Sal holds her close.

Upon arriving at the police station, chills run through Johnny’s spine, but he ostensibly appears calm. He is placed in a small windowless room on the other side of the city jail that didn’t have anything but an overhead lamp over the middle of the table.

A svelte smug faced prosecutor named Odell Muir is standing in a corner. His long hair was barely visible, because of the shadows. He opens his briefcase to take out a file. After placing it on the table, he sits next to Johnny, who stares at him with trepidation and bewilderment, while wondering why he was here.

Captain Lester leans forward with his bulldog face with large arms that encompass the table. The officer stares at Johnny wanting to speak, but is biding his time. The officer’s gravelly voice rose. We want to know where you got that shotgun!

I’m not answering any of your questions!

The captain roars. "You better listen here, mister! We can get you, young man, on weapons possession in the fourth degree! Lester warns him that if he didn’t answer the questions, he would look guilty. If you don’t answer, we won’t have to prove your guilt."

Johnny stands up to tell the captain pointing his finger at him; he could legally refuse to answer any questions, and then his teeth clench with the bangs get into his eyes. Sweat pours down his cheeks while his arms shake.

Lester warns him that for all those charges, he could go to jail for up to four years. "However, if you cooperate, we will help you. He went on to say if he was convicted of killing those guys, he’d serve harder time.

Johnny folds his arms telling him to forget it.

The captain’s lips were pitch black and red and the gums gyrated. You’d better answer the questions! His stomach bulge forth across what appear to be half the table.

Muir smirks, clearing his throat stepping in; he turns to Johnny and explains the district attorney’s office authorized him to plea bargain the case to misdemeanor weapons’ possession and reckless endangerment. All you have to do is sign a confession.

Another police officer walks over, presents Muir with the paper and he, in turn, shows it to Johnny; it states he was guilty of a crime, but wouldn’t have to spend so much time in jail. In addition, he would be recommended for parole when it first became available.

Johnny reads it through; he crumples and tosses it across the table slapping his hands.

Muir

Reviews for A Courtroom Massacre

[gabbyhayze · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

The Courtroom Massacre by Mark PortoIn the movie Funny Farm, Andy Farmer quits his job as a sports writer so he and his school teacher wife, Elizabeth can move to the small town of Redbud, Vermont. They buy a picturesque little farm where Andy plans to pursue his dream of writing a novel. Shortly after they move to Redbud, the Farmers celebrate their wedding anniversary; Andy takes Elizabeth into town for dinner and surprises her with a plan to stay overnight at the local motel. He also surprises Elizabeth with his anniversary gift to her -- the first few chapters of his novel in progress. He goes out to buy some champagne while Elizabeth starts reading the novel; Andy is impatient to have her immediate reaction to the book he has poured his heart, soul, and creativity into. When he returns he finds Elizabeth speechless. She tells him she could not follow the plot of the book; Andy wants her to tell him how he can fix it. Elizabeth's reply is, "Burn it." That is exactly what someone should have advised Mark Porto to do with The Courtroom Massacre. Don't even hesitate for a moment; just burn it.I do not say this lightly. I have a great deal of respect for anyone who manages to write a book. I know it's difficult because I've tried, and I'm terrible at it. I'm much better at reading than trying to tell a story in book form. Which is why I feel it necessary to review this book so harshly. I read roughly 100 books a year, and that's on a slow year. I've been reading since I'm 5 years old. That's lots and lots of books read and for the most part enjoyed. This book, The Courtroom Massacre is the poorest excuse for a book I've ever read. Yes, ever. It had no sense of sentence structure; it was full of sentence fragments, and there was no rhyme or reason to chapter separations. The story was told in whatever verb tense the writer felt like using at the moment. We start out in present tense, and then we jump around to past tense or whatever tense the flip of the coin chose. There was no adherence to correct pronoun use. One sentence may refer to someone as "him", the next sentence referred to the same person as "her". There is no continuity to the plot; in fact the whole premise of the plot was absurd. The hero, Johnny, interrupts an armed robbery in his parent's convenience store. He shoots and kills at least one of the bandits. It is a clear matter of self-defense. And then, for no apparent reason Johnny is arrested for murder. There is some outlandish reasoning why this happens, and the rest of the book tries to show the reasons for it. It is so convoluted I gave up all attempts at understanding what or why anything was happening.I received a free copy of this book at NetGalley in return for an honest review. I cannot be more honest than: do not waste your money or your time on this book. If Library Thing allowed no stars for reviews, I would argue for the option of minus stars for this mess.I am proud to say I finished this book. I say that because reading it became an endurance test rather than an enjoyable reading experience.