Without A Trial

By Maxwell Cunningham

When the police commissioner of Edinboro suddenly retires after a raid gone wrong, hardball cop, Todd Williams, finds himself in the middle of a dangerous game that threatens the safety of those he loves the most. His morals are put to the test when he must act as executioner to suspected criminals who are condemned to death without a trial.

WARNING: This book contains adult language and situations that are not suitable for children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maxwell Cunningham
• Release date: Aug 8, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476241074

Maxwell Cunningham

Maxwell Cunningham is a pen name used by Ryan M. Murphy. Ryan is a lifelong Pennsylvanian who has been obsessed with The Beatles for as long as he can remember. When he is not running his music store or playing shows with his band, he writes thriller, horror, and science fiction stories. For more info on Ryan, please go to www.ryanmmurphy.com. For more information on Maxwell Cunningham releases, please visit www.maxwellcunningham.com

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Without A Trial

by

Maxwell Cunningham

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012 by Maxwell Cunningham

www.maxwellcunningham.com

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

WARNING: This book contains adult language and situations that are not suitable for children.

* * *

Chapter 1

The door flew open and a man’s silhouette was accented by the setting August sun. The hostess at Palo’s, a small family-owned restaurant in the heart of Edinboro, greeted him as he walked past her. Good evening, sir. Would you like a table for…? Her words trailed off as he ignored her and continued on, like she was road kill, forgotten on the side of the road. The restaurant’s patrons looked at him in unison as he entered and silence filled the air. His name was Todd Williams and his reputation preceded him.

Miniature chandeliers hung from the ceiling and illuminated Todd’s face. His skin resembled an old worn-out catcher’s mitt, beat to hell from years of abuse. Littered with scars, his face could be read like a book. One such scar resulted from a knife fight. His opponent did not live to see the morning. Another occurred as he pursued a kingpin. Using his police cruiser as a battering ram to disable an F-150 truck would have worked if he hadn’t lost control and smashed into a tree. The windshield shattered into his face, small specks of glass mostly, though one shard was inches from taking out his left eye. He knew each day could add to his ever-growing collection of scars.

He made a bee-line for a table in the far corner of the restaurant, populated by three men. As he walked towards them, he could tell they knew what he wanted. He was sure they heard of his efforts to clean up the streets. They belonged to the same class of scum that he, a hard-as-nails brush, would scrub from existence, or at the very least, put them in prison where they belonged.

He pulled an empty chair from a neighboring table and sat down, like he was a buddy of theirs who was late for a dinner meeting.

Todd grinned. Gentlemen, how are we doing on this fine evening? His right hand stroked the gun in his front pants pocket holster, a .38 Smith and Wesson Special. He never left home without it. His second love, a Colt Detective Special, concealed in a shoulder holster, remained close to his heart…literally.

One of the men, an overweight, bald fellow in his early forties named Donny Romano, spoke first. "Are you gonna…take care of us?"

Todd laughed. I’d have done it by now if that was the plan.

Donny sighed like a school boy who had avoided getting detention. Todd had that effect on dangerous men. They knew he visited for one reason – to take them out of the picture. Donny wasn’t quite in Todd’s sights. No evidence, though everyone suspected he had a monopoly on the entire drug trade on the east side. He must have bribed the right people to allow him to operate unmolested. You needed evidence to convict someone, and without it, they would return to the streets in no time at all, starting a gang war or something unpleasant.

I came to have a little chat, if that’s okay with you, Todd said. If your friends here don’t mind, I’d like for this to be one on one.

Donny looked at the two men flanking him. He moved his right hand like he was shooing away a fly. At once, they got up and left the table, like a pair of obedient pit bulls.

Donny leaned towards Todd, like one leans in to hear a stock tip or some kind of top secret information. I’m listening.

I came to warn you—

Warn me about what?

The next time I see you in this city, it’ll be right before I zip up your body bag, Todd said as casually as he could. The words were a direct threat, though you couldn’t tell by the way he said it. He spoke like he would have to a small child. Hey little Johnny, I’m going to put you in a body bag. Here’s a candy bar. Run off and be a good boy.

Oh yeah?

I guarantee it, Todd said. I know what you’re up to. I’d much sooner have you leave town than the alternative. Keeping this city safe is my job. With people like you here, that end will never be met.

I’m a citizen of this fine town. You can’t expect me to leave, Donny said.

I expect it and you will leave. Todd’s chair screeched as he stood up. This is your final warning. Leave town or I’ll come for you.

Todd turned his back on him, an act which proved perilous for all of Donny’s victims. Todd didn’t worry. He knew people feared him just as much, though he still kept his right hand planted on his gun, ready to turn around and fire at any time. He walked towards the door without incident. A low hum of light conversation amongst the scores of diners returned as Todd exited the building.

A warm breeze smacked his face as he stood on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. The open sign behind him reflected off of the windows of the parked cars that lined the street. He squinted as he looked between two buildings to view the sky’s several shades of orange and red. The smell of a menagerie of foods filled his nostrils; a mix of Italian, Chinese, and a sprinkle of Latin. Sounds of automobiles blared from the worn road. It was Friday evening and people attempted to forget about their recent labors in many ways: dinner, shopping and a movie at the cinemas.

Todd walked to the edge of the curb and stepped down into the street. He proceeded between two parked cars and leaned out to view any oncoming traffic. During a lull in the traffic, he began to meander across the street, not concerned if any vehicles had to slow down to avoid him. Let those bastards hit me, he thought. They’d be sorry.

He ended his brief journey across the street at a black unmarked police cruiser, a Lincoln Continental. My chariot awaits, he thought.

Once inside his car he sat in silence. The outside noise went unnoticed as he thought about all of his struggles and his subsequent rise to the top. He remembered starting in the force six years ago in the plain-clothes division after retiring from the military. He worked his way up in that division. Several years later, after a sufficient amount of experience, he found himself in charge of a group of three other men. They followed his orders without question, and as a team they got the job done in ridding the town of crime. Now, six years after he had joined the force, his record spoke for itself and he was considered a hero.

The ringing of his cell phone interrupted Todd’s moment of reminiscence. A rock and roll tune from the sixties played until he answered the call. He was a sixties child and never seemed to grow out of it.

He looked at his phone and saw it was a member of his unit. Hey, Jeff, what’s going on?

Jeff’s voice crackled due to the poor connection. Todd, I’m just wondering where you’re at. We can’t get started without you, ya know. You running late?

Todd was never late. Everyone else was just early. The action began when Todd arrived. The action for tonight included a raid of the home of a drug lord named Randall White. Randall topped their list for several weeks, and his time had come. He just didn’t know it yet.

I’ll be right there. I had to issue a final warning to Romano.

That son of a bitch is next. Jeff said. And White…well, he won’t know what hit him.

I’ll be right there. Let’s get this over with. Todd turned the ignition. The car roared, like a lion waking from a nap, ready to start the daily hunt.

Over and out, Jeff said before hanging up.

Todd put the car into drive, clenched the steering wheel, and turned out of the parking space. He cruised down Main Street and saw the lights of the businesses on both sides of the street. The sun continued its descent, and the street lights began to take over, providing light to the crowds of people pouring down the sidewalk. They had places to go, things to do, and movies to watch. Todd Williams had one thing on his mind tonight. To eliminate Randall White.

Chapter 2

Todd saw the street lamp at the corner of Main Street and Lincoln Avenue shining like a beacon. He turned onto Lincoln and parked behind a white cargo van. He saw three men standing in the shadows in front of a boarded up storefront, a pharmacy in better times. Those better times disappeared at the hand of the financial crisis that rocked the world the previous year.

He kept his engine idling and the headlights illuminated him as he stepped out and approached the trio.

Jeff looked up at Todd. Welcome to the party. He smiled to display a set of teeth, perfect, if not for missing one of his lower canines, lost during a fist fight six months ago.

I hear the party is at White’s place. Shall we? Todd said.

Jeff stroked his thick, black moustache before scratching his balding head. Let’s bring him down.