Joe Detective: Epiphany in Lead (Book Three)

By JH Gordon

There are those Joe has offended by his not-too-accidental blowing-up of their leaders. Joe learns there is no such thing as justice or impunity in life. The lesson comes as an epiphany in lead. It's said that when faced with almost certain death we have two choices: fight or flight. That's easy to say unless you're the one backed in a corner.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JH Gordon
• Release date: Mar 29, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476248127

JH Gordon

Who and what am I? I'm an American expat living in South America working on my next book. In addition to Fireclosure, "Joe Detective" is a seven book noir detective series with number eight coming soon. I ventured south for a number of good reasons not the least of which is a type of isolation that frees me from California distractions. South America renews me. Ancient culture struggling with the new is interesting since all the "new" is something out of 1950's America. My background ranges from the detective business to the business of business having been an entrepreneur most of my life in diverse businesses and lifestyles. Rock m'Roll to commerce to consulting to seminars. From real estate investment to a construction outfit. I've done too many things to list and it's hard to remember some. As such, I've seen the duality of morality in the way society wrestles with being civilized and comes up wanting. It may be that somehow, by writing things about criminality and simmering violence, I prevent myself from becoming one of my characters. (Leaving the evidence in writing as it were.) My love of the underdog and the realist comes out in my stories. I'm finally doing what I love best. I'm having new adventures every day and I get to be a story teller. I write for people who know a camp fire and their imaginations are better than 70 millimeter film even with Sound Around. I can only hope they forgive my errors in spelling and my sometimes stumbling expression. I think they do. In person I display the usual human frailties. I'm neither good nor completely bad. I value my liberty more than anything else, and a small eclectic group of friends. I love life and stress on it as little as possible. I'm of an age where I'm conscious of time running out. But I look forward to what comes next. As Joe Detective said, "Death is like a traffic accident, you'd love to stay and watch, but you're out of popcorn." I always make too much popcorn and I think that's what life is about. Stories I do fairly well, I'm told. But when it comes to writing a personal description I can only say my life is a decades old run-on sentence and you'd have to have been there to understand. Lucky for me, I've outlived the statute of limitations many times and more than a few of mine enemies. Thanks to my valuable friends... JH Gordon

Book preview

JOE DETECTIVE:

Epiphany in Lead

(Book Three)

by

Joel H. Gordon

Copyright 2010 by Joel H. Gordon

Smashwords Edition

As of this printing, there are seven Joe Detective books in the series.

Read more about them at the end of this book.

Contact Joel H. Gordon at mailto:[e-mail]

Visit our website at http://www.joedetective.net

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JOE DETECTIVE:

Epiphany in Lead

(Book Three)

by

Joel H. Gordon

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Chapter One

Given the right circumstance, almost everybody will do almost anything. That’s what Joe had come to believe. Nothing in his experience offered evidence to the contrary.

The shooting occurred around 4:30 AM according to witnesses who heard the shots. No one reported the shots, they just heard them. The coroner didn’t disagree with them. But it was one of those cases that would be quickly written off by the local constabulary and tossed into the unsolved and nobody gives a damn pile which is fairly thick. Or they’d railroad some poor slob based on circumstantial brevity.

Joe had a love hate relationship with law enforcement. There are damn few real cops in the world, he’d say, but a whole lot of gate keepers. Judicial arbitrariness pissed him off, he was a harsh critic.

To Joe the logic was simple; if you are to be presumed innocent until proven guilty, then a cop’s job should be to look for ways to prove you innocent; not the other way around.

In the real world money talks and BS gets away with anything. Joe carried a .25 Beretta and a large roll of cash just to weed out the BS. Joe had lots of cash. So much so in fact, that anyone who knew would call him a fool for not putting it all in a bank. Not many people knew.

It’s not that he didn’t trust banks, which he didn’t; there were the inevitable explanations of where it came for any meaningful deposit. Joe preferred his privacy. And that may be why he became a private detective; it was that or get a real job.

The call woke Joe from a sound sleep at 6:10 AM. The desperate sounding voice on the other end was spewing information faster than he could grasp through the fog. Whoever it was wasn’t listening; talking a mile a minute while Joe was still at a mental crawl.

Ok, before I hang up Joe said angrily, who is this and what the fuck are you talking about?

Joe… it’s me Annie! Please get over here, a girl’s been murdered!

That registered. I’ll be there in a minute, he dropped the phone and pulled on some trousers.

Who was it? Laurie still had her face scrunched into the pillow.

Phone solicitor from another time zone I guess, he slipped on his shoes.

Where are you going? she mumbled.

I gotta walk the cat, honey, you go back to sleep. Pulling on a tee shirt, he grabbed his windbreaker off the chair. The weight of it told him the stuff he never leaves home without was going with him.

In the 45-second decent of the old Otis elevator he checked the clip in his Beretta and ran a comb through his hair, he also remembered to zip his pants. 20 seconds more to cross the street, trot down the side yard, and Joe was knocking on the back door of the triplex. No answer.

The third knock had turned into pounding, Annie’s girlfriend sleepily answered the door.

What is it, Joe? What time is it?

Annie’s not here?

No, she went to the club. Remember the electrical problem? The contractor is due at 7:00.

Oh, uh, ok, sorry.

What’s wrong, Joe?

Can’t find my cat,

She nodded sleepily and closed the door.

By the time he started the car he was wide-awake. The trip to The Industrial City of South San Francisco was getting crowded on the freeway so Joe angled off as soon as possible. A 15-minute drive became 30 instead of stopped.

The topless bar was something Charlie and he had acquired by chicanery and default from a dead guy called The Boss. It was one of several businesses The Boss had acquired with ionosphere interest loans and unforgiving late fees of the kneecapping variety. And no, Joe didn’t kill him; The Boss’s greed and a girl with a gun and a grudge did that. Joe just administrated the estate, so to speak, into much more worthy and deserving hands. Joe never left home without those hands.

The topless bar was one of two properties Joe kept. The reason was it didn’t have a credible owner to return it to and because his partner Charley was a patron of the performance arts.

Joe didn’t mind much and the money was good. It was also a credible cash business that facilitated his funneling three large suitcases of ill-gotten gains under the sensitive nose of the taxman without a sniff. At the present rate, he’d only have to be in the sheltering bar business for another 50 years. He didn’t mind waiting.

The case involving the now thoroughly dead Boss and an equally demised Senator had placed Joe in the money is no object or objection category.

He found the parking lot of the topless bar filled with flashing trouble. Cop cars everywhere; the coroners black Mariah and an ambulance were the only ones without the blinking lights. The flashing seemed ludicrous at a murder scene.

A cop stopped him and then politely let him through after learning of Joe’s proprietor-y status.

A way-too-surly homicide dick came forward and beckoned Joe inside. He started on Joe with a barrage of questions. What do you know about this? Do you know the dead girl? How long has she worked for you? Were you friendly with her?

Joe affected a stoic stance with just a touch of viewing the worm. A lieutenant rescued the detective before Joe insulted him to his shoes.

I know this man. Go in the back and make sure those clowns don’t try on the costumes.

The girls are wearing costumes? I guess I need to dock their pay.

Hello Joe, the lieutenant said. Miss Lee’s over there. They walked to the end of the bar where two detectives were practicing detecting. They were throwing questions at Annie pretty hard but she knew how to view worms too. When she saw Joe she pushed her way between the two cops and ran into his arms. It was awful, Joe, she buried her face in his chest.

Joe sat her down and took the stool next to her. I know baby, try to tell me what happened.

I got here at six so I could meet the electrical contractor. I got here early ‘cause last time he came early and left because nobody was here.

Ok, what happened?

Joe, I let Joanie stay here for a couple of days. She took off from that guy she married and couldn’t stay in a motel. I let her stay here. I’m sorry.

Ok, don’t worry about that now. Tell me what happened.

I don’t know, I came in and found her in the restroom. I saw her legs sticking out the door. At first I thought she’d overdosed but then I saw the blood.

She was a user?

No Joe, she was clean. I know she was clean. But, Joe… I think her old man did it. Annie started to cry.

Take it easy, baby. Take a deep breath. Now try to tell me what you remember.

I screamed, I know that, and then somebody ran out the side door. I was too afraid to follow.

Good girl.

Why was that so good? the same nasty detective demanded and spun Joe on his stool. Joe looked coolly at his shoulder where the guy’s hand was gripping and then into the guy’s eyes.

You don’t want to do that, he whispered, unless you don’t like your nuts maybe…Joe’s hand was just below the cop’s crotch and Joe’s eyes told the rest of the story. The cop let go.

Lieutenant, call off your mutt. The lieutenant walked over to them.

Mike Penny, Mr. Tiddles. We’ve met before. You used to take my Boy Scouts out on your boat; you took my troop out twice.

Sorry, I didn’t recognize you without the uniform, Joe smiled. I think we’d get a lot further if you joined us.

Ok, Joe. The lady has been very cooperative; if she can remember anything else it will help a lot.

Why don’t we take a table then? Joe moved with Annie to the more comfortable seats. He noticed again, how diminutive she was. She had to step down from the stool and her head only came up to the center of his chest which made her just slightly shorter than Laurie.

Why’d you think she overdosed? again, the cop with the hands. Are you a junky too?

Do you talk that way to your mother?

"She’s not