Rogue's Gallery

By Jack W. Boone

The doctrine of "don't get mad---get even" was alive and well in the minds of two retired Police Captains, Amos Rogue and Felix Kilner.

Throughout their careers, they had enforced the law honestly and diligently while watching those with the financial and political clout beat the system and walk away laughing, if not richer. Those with mob connections would never even reach the indictment stage.

Amos Rogue kept a photo gallery of these perpetrators pasted on his apartment refrigerator as his personal rogue's gallery to constantly remind him that they had beaten the system.

After Amos and Felix retired, all of the frustrations and deep-seated resentment that plagued them for years began to surface. Their careers were strangely unfulfilled because the job wasn't finished. After a while, they decided to do something about it so they sat around making plans on how to correct the situation.

They chose to test their theory by actually putting one plan involving one notorious individual to the test. It quickly turned out to be so easy that they decided to drop the test and really do it. Their strong compulsion for retribution took over. Both divorced and with no obligations to anyone, they embarked on a road to correct the injustices themselves. Step by step, they made their way through the rogue's gallery.

The question was, can a series of disappointments in life cause men to turn into assassins? The answer is that it might if two perfectly sane people practiced an honorable profession for many years and suffered numerous indignities and rejections along the way. Can the frustration eventually ingrain itself in their minds so deep that it will become an obsession? That might sound a bit incredulous, but it did in this case and that's what this story is all about.

The story is structured where each chapter covers one event with fishing and hunting marking the end of each adventure. How they did it will rivet you to their story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack W. Boone
• Release date: Dec 1, 2010
• ISBN: 9781458170972

Jack W. Boone

Jack W. Boone began his adult life by spending four years in the US Army during WW II. He was selected for training by British Commandos in Scotland for future invasions, raids on enemy territory and close combat operations. He participated in the invasions of North Africa and Sicily. For his combat roles, he was awarded the Silver Star for gallantry in action and the Purple Heart for wounds received in combat. After returning to the United States he was assigned as an assistant G3 and combat training officer. He commanded a training facility for special operations. He left the service after the war.Prior to, during and after his military years, he came to know several writers and other creative people. The group spent a lot of their free time discussing writing and the arts and what they hoped would be their role in it in the future. During that time, he was only an interested observer with no thought of participating, however that experience probably planted the seed for him to become a writer later.After his discharge the challenge of business took over and he spent the next forty years building his very successful group of companies. They were in real estate, mortgage banking, construction, land development, property syndication, publishing and several other related fields. He has received national publicity for his various business activities on several occasions.After he retired from business he decided to write a few stories for his own amusement. To date he has written seventeen books including eight full-length novels, four novelettes, two nonfiction books and three short story books. In addition, he has written numerous essays, articles, guest columns for newspapers and personality profiles of prominent people he knew for historical books. He coauthored a three-act play and much more.His initial plan was to give the books to charities to be used for fund raisers and other nonprofit causes. He did not plan to commercially market his work. The reaction to his books has been exceptionally good, with people calling to order copies for friends and relatives. After such a favorable reception, he recently decided to place them on the commercial market where the proceeds could be directed to other worthy causes. He gives generously to charities.He continues to write every day and aspires to finish all of the more than twenty writing projects he has outlined for himself including two novels presently in development.He and his wife of nearly 60 years have traveled in more than 45 countries in the world during his business career and on vacations. They presently reside in Marietta, Georgia, where he is active in civic clubs as a member and guest speaker. He recently started a writing program for fourth grade students in several local schools. He wrote half of a short story and the students finish it. Winners are selected by members of the Marietta Golden "K" Kiwanis Club and the schools. Prizes are awarded for the best finished story.

Book preview

Rogue’s Gallery

Published by Jack W. Boone at Smashwords

Copyright 2010 Jack W. Boone

CHAPTER ONE

BALANCING THE SCALE

The strangest team in the history of police work was about to become a fact. Captain Amos Rogue and Captain Felix Kilner had joined the metropolitan police force thirty-five years earlier. Today they were standing side by side with eighteen other officers in a command retirement ceremony, waiting to hear the final words of praise and good humor from their superiors. Their shoes were polished to a high military shine, and their uniforms were pressed with knife„edge creases. Each would receive a proclamation and citation for his years on the force. Today they would hang up their spurs, so to speak, and be free to do as they wished without the tedium of daily routine required to run a precinct or department.

Felix was deep in thought as he half listened to the ceremony. For the first time in his adult life, he was thinking about the last few years and how the profession of law enforcement had changed since politics entered the picture. The enjoyment had gone out of it, and he was glad to be leaving.

The speeches of the politicians droned on, praising the retiree’s for their long and honorable contributions to the city and their fellow citizens. He fidgeted and whispered to Amos, I wish they would get on with it. It’s hot out here. This is the first time I’ve had to stand in formation since old Cap’n Murdock’s funeral. That was about three years ago.

Amos smiled and whispered back, Hold on. It'll be over soon then we'll go get a cold one.

As he stood there, Felix thought about his career. He had only one regret. Lately he had seen too many of his cases dismissed or diluted by plea agreements. He felt strangely unfulfilled. After losing a case to political influence, big money, plea bargains or a nullified jury, he and Amos would fantasize on the drive home about how they would personally punish the defendant.

At first it was a joke between them, a means to let off steam after watching the criminal walk through the system unscathed. As the incidents became more frequent and as higher profile cases were washed away with money and slick lawyers, plus inside deals cut with politicians, the retribution thoughts became more frequent and much more serious. By the time he had reached retirement age, he had tolerated all of this injustice he could swallow.

Amos was likewise distracted by his thoughts and half listened to the speeches and presentations. He was also reviewing his thirty-five year career. He too was not satisfied that he had fulfilled his commitment to justice. His attitude was bitter to the point where it was affecting his health with worry. He was ready to get out. It had reached a point a few years ago when he just didn’t give a damn anymore. He didn’t have enough time in service to retire then, so he stood by and watched the charade called justice being meted out for money. Certain high profile cases had brought him to the boiling point. Most of the smaller fry didn’t bother him. He had watched the morale of the department plummet when these big cases were slam-dunked by the slick lawyers and politicians, so he became a cheerleader of sorts, trying to get his men to forget the past and move on, something he couldn’t do himself.

The ceremony was finally over. The finale was a handshake and congratulations by the senior officers and the Mayor's stand-in. Of the eighteen men who had received the retirement honors today, Amos was the superior rank of the group. Felix was second. Amos had been promoted to Captain one month before Felix, eight years ago.

Soon the last hand was shaken and the department Chaplin said his parting prayer, then the ceremony ended. The families and friends of the retiring officers began to disburse hugging and congratulating their retiree.

Amos and Felix walked away from the ceremony together. What do you say, want a beer?

Felix nodded, Good idea. Let’s go home. I’ve got a six-pack in the fridge.

Both had been married, but were divorced years ago. They had grown apart from their families over the years

Felix didn't have children. He was a wiry fellow who tipped the scales at about one sixty„five. His sharp features still had a subtle attractiveness that caused women to take a second look. He went to Hollywood from Pittsburgh after the war hoping to become an actor. It didn't take him long to realize that more than looks were required to make it in the movies. In the meantime he met and married a starlet. For a while, they both acted in local theater. A lifestyle beyond an extra's income required a steady paycheck In the police force back in Pittsburgh, with its salary, looked very inviting. His wife never forgave him for supposedly ruining her career by getting her pregnant. She made his marriage a pure hell, even after she lost the child, until it ended in divorce a year later.

The friendly Amos was a big man, weighing a few pounds more than departmental regulations allowed. He maintained himself in the gym to keep agile. His six foot height and broad shoulders helped with the tough look. A rugged complexion and full head of touched„up dark brown hair helped him to also maintain a young and lively look. His good personality made him popular with his men, plus he was known to stand up to the brass to defend his people.

Amos had two children from his marriage, a boy and a girl. It was thirty„one years ago when a friend mentioned that he had seen his wife having lunch with another man. Amos investigated it himself and found that she was having an affair with her doctor. A divorce followed. The oldest child, Rebecca, was less than three years old at the time and his son, Amos Jr, was an infant.

He was bitter at first, and seriously considered trying to get his children away from her. After thinking it over, and on the advice of a friend who was a juvenile court judge, he gave up the idea. His friend had told him that it would be difficult to get the children from their mother unless they had been abused or mistreated in some way. He settled for visitation rights. His ex-wife married the doctor within six months.

After she was settled in with her new husband, he decided that it was better for the children to have a stable home life, so he abandoned any further court action. A year later, he agreed for them to be adopted by their stepfather in exchange for his wife dropping alimony and child support demands. He retained limited visitation rights and for a while he visited the kids regularly. Within a year, they seemed to be uncomfortable during his brief visits and anxious to get away. He was sure that his ex„wife was poisoning their minds about him. Soon he stopped going. None of the children ever called to inquire why.

Later he stopped sending birthday and Christmas presents after his ex„wife returned them unopened. It was very clear that he was no longer a part of their lives. He missed his children and occasionally grieved that he may have done the wrong thing to give them away. It took him a long time to get over it, but finally he accepted his decision.

The retirement announcement had been in the paper, and though he was sure they wouldn’t come, he couldn’t resist looking out of the corner of his eye occasionally just in case. He wasn’t sure that he would recognize them now anyway. They were grown and he hadn’t seen them in a long time. None of them bothered to attend the ceremony.

The captains were different in that Amos had an outgoing personality and Felix, an avid outdoors man, was quiet by nature. Amos came across as a person who took his work seriously, but one who also liked people. Felix, on the other hand, was reserved to the point of bewilderment. You never knew what he was thinking, therefore it created an air of uncertainty about his interest in the conversation. Amos made friends easily and listened to conversations with interest, whereas Felix had a tendency to look away during a conversation and without visible emotion, leaving the conversationalist wondering if he heard any of the dialogue. It was distracting and disturbing, therefore conversations with Felix tended to be short.

They both enjoyed the company of the ladies and frequently one or the other would have a lady sleep over. After his marriage dissolved, Amos wasn't anxious to make a permanent commitment. Felix never said what his attitude toward marriage was. He seemed content to be a bachelor and never allowed his bed partners to stay over for more than one night.

Amos owned the small apartment building where they both lived. He had moved into it as a tenant after his divorce, and bought it when the ailing owner made him a deal that he couldn’t refuse. It had been a good investment and it was paid for. After Felix’s divorce, Amos rented him a small bachelor apartment on the second floor. Their friendship developed over time because of their common interest in police work and recreation.

As the years passed, Amos threw his attention into his work. In most of his off hours, he enjoyed hunting and fishing with Felix and they went regularly. His other passion was his small machine shop in the basement of his apartment building. He spent a lot of his free time there.

On the way home, Amos asked, Felix, Didn’t it feel a little strange that we ended a thirty-five years career in about an hour? That's sort of like a funeral. A fellow lives and works all his life to make his mark in the world, and it’s all put to rest in a thirty minute ceremony.

Felix smiled at his friend, For Christ sake, don't get maudlin about it. Hell, I'm glad it’s over. The last few years haven't been fun.

Amos grinned, I’m not getting maudlin, I'm wondering if I could have spent my life in a better way, maybe by trying to keep my family with me and being a real family man like my wife wanted.

Felix laughed, I’ll bet that woman grew to hate you just as mine did me. I was glad to get rid of her then and I haven't had a single minute of regret since.

In the last few years, while having a beer on the lake fishing or in the woods hunting, the conversation usually got around to the changes taking place in the department. It was during those trips that they seriously talked about methods to correct some situations, particularly where jury nullification allowed a proven criminal to walk free, even after a thorough investigation had proven beyond any reasonable doubt that the person was guilty. Weeks and occasionally months of developing a strong case would go down the drain in minutes by the bias of these juries. Cases that under normal circumstances would have buried the criminal in prison, had been decided for the defendant. In their opinion, the reason for it happening was simple, people are not afraid of the justice system or courts any more and this was their moment of defiance. It was get-even time for this segment of the population.

Over the years the discussions of Felix and Amos began to zero in on the time they would have available after they retired when maybe they could do something about it. Neither mentioned what.

Though both officers worked in the same precinct all of their careers, they never worked directly together as a team. They frequently consulted each other at work because the natural flow of cases was from Amos’s precinct to Felix’s office for final preparation for trial.

Felix had been an investigator for the District Attorney's office most of his career. He was made Chief of the team when he was promoted to Captain.

Amos was a precinct commander at the time of his retirement, but liked to express himself as a street cop to his men. His primary job was to keep his people motivated after these nullification events.

As each of the high profile cases fell, Amos begun saving pictures of these criminals and had them mounted with tape on a wall in his study. He called it Rogue’s gallery.

Their vow to do something about it started innocently enough about five years before they retired. Amos said to Felix, as he added another picture to his collection, I wish I had that bastard alone for a few minutes. He would never sell narcotics to another child.

Felix shrugged and said, Why don't we? When I was on the street, we eliminated people like that occasionally. I know I've shot when I could have probably shouted stop louder. I didn't want the son of a bitch to stop, especially when the evidence was overwhelming that I had the right man. One night I heard a scream as I was walking home from the bus stop. I took off running toward the sound. As I turned the corner, I saw a guy repeatedly ramming a knife in the chest of a woman. He saw me and ran. I yelled stop, but all the time I hoped he wouldn’t, so I stopped him with a 32/20 slug in the back. I have never felt bad about that. In fact, I think I did the world a favor.

Amos grinned at his old friend, Yeah, but that ain’t the way the law sees it when you’re not in uniform. There’s a fine line between murder and justifiable homicide. Maybe we ought to think about it.

The idea continued to grow and fester. As case after case unraveled, their conversations about how they would correct the situation became more detailed. Both officers knew that they couldn't do anything about it while they were still on the force. They had to wait for retirement.

Amos and Felix, for their own entertainment, began to plan how they would handle a particular case outside of the system. The planning took on a serious tone after several of Amos' high profile drug cases were stored away by the DA's office until the publicity died down, then washed out by the courts on minor technicalities. Amos was sure that a deal had been struck and a lot of money had changed hands to kill the cases, but he couldn't prove it. Several times in the last few years, when his men got too close to a big time drug dealer, the case file would be shifted uptown or to another division without explanation where the case would disappear.

It was on the way to the bowling alley for their afternoon practice with the other police retirees when Felix asked seriously, Amos, do you miss the force?

Amos laughed, Yeah, I guess I do. After thirty-five years of knowing what was waiting for you at work, it’s strange to wake up and find the only thing waiting for you now is the cat and the morning paper.

They rode in silence for a few blocks when Felix said, I guess you know that we are history as far as the department is concerned. I haven't even had a call from any of my men. We're no longer a part of their world so we'll soon be forgotten. We're outsiders and any intrusion on our part would not be welcome. I guess we'll get used to it.

Amos took a deep breath and let it all out as he answered, You're right. We have closed a chapter in our lives. Maybe it's time to open a new book. Suppose we work on the vigilante idea?

Felix's head snapped up. He looked at his friend quizzically, I think you really mean it.

Amos mused, Maybe now we can do something about it. Let's go to my place after the match and talk about it.

Felix shrugged and nodded agreement.

Back in the apartment, each took a long swig from their beer bottle before settling back. Amos said, I've been giving a lot of thought to how the system has changed. I know that justice is for sale. There is no such thing as true justice anymore. Take, for example, the recent trial of that guy who was indicted for killing his ex-wife and her new husband. We had him dead to rights, but his attorneys nullified the jury and he got away with it. The defense used so„called experts to manipulate the selection process to get people on it who were in revolt against the police and the system. There was no way in hell they would convict that guy. Hell, they couldn't have done better if they had put his mother and father on the damn jury. That trial was lost before the first word was spoken in the courtroom.

Amos studied his beer for a few moments before he shrugged and looked up. He said, Maybe somebody should do something to balance the scales of justice, maybe even us. Nobody else will do it.

Still unsure, Felix asked, What kind of thing would we have to do?

Maybe justice could be served regardless of rigged juries and crooked lawyers.

Now Felix really sat up and paid attention, I know we've talked about it, but how do you propose to do that when we had all of the assets in the world at our disposal before we retired and still we couldn't do it?

Amos said, We were hemmed in by rules and regulations. There was no way we could get around them there, but now that we’re not tied, maybe there is a way. You think about it and so will I. We’ll discuss it some more tomorrow on the way to the river.

Felix looked at his watch, I'm eating supper with the widow Stephens in 204 tonight at seven. Want me to try to wrangle you an invitation? She’s a damn good cook.

Amos vigorously shook his head no, I'll let you take care of the widow. She’s looking for somebody to fill in the void in her life. I'll see you in the morning about seven. You can pay for your dinner in her bed tonight. He laughed.

Felix shrugged, The very idea gives me cold chills. She tried that once before and I told her I was impotent. I didn't figure that I would ever get invited back, but she did. Maybe she feels sorry for me.

Is seven o’clock okay then?

Yeah, seven should be fine.

Felix rolled the beer bottle between his palms as he asked, So you really want to talk seriously about this vigilante thing?

That's the idea.

Felix said, Now that we have the time we can sure do it. We know the tricks of the trade.

They finished their beers and Felix left.

Amos made himself a bologna sandwich and heated a bowl of soup while thinking about Felix eating a sumptuous dinner in the apartment of the widow Stephens. He went to bed early. The rekindled fury in his mind caused him to sleep restlessly.

He got up early and went for the papers while the coffee was brewing. Felix, as usual, opened the door and entered without knocking. Amos was sitting in his favorite place at the breakfast table eating his donut and drinking coffee. The newspapers were on the table and scattered on the floor.

You make out? He asked Felix, grinning.

Yeah, like a bandit. Ate a big serving of pot roast and ran. Like I said, she’s a damn good cook. What did you do?

Had some soup and a sandwich.

Felix got himself a cup of coffee and sat down. Amos said, Felix, my friend, I’ve been thinking about our conversation last night. We've seen aborted justice too many times, and I’m convinced that we should do something about it. I guess you know the consequences if we make a mistake?

Felix was looking at Amos, listening carefully as he spoke, not nodding or indicating in any way that he agreed or disagreed. He sat silent for a long moment before he answered, I know what we're proposing here. If we take the law into our own hands, it will be classified as a felony. I know you're thinking of it as assassination, but we both know that the law reads otherwise. The question is, do we want to gamble and do something about it, or go fishing and let it alone? Nobody else seems to care. He paused and looked off into space. Amos knew that he wasn't through, so he kept quiet, waiting.

Felix continued, On the other hand, like I said yesterday, we know all of the tricks of the trade and how to use them. It would be a shame to let all of that experience go to waste. I’ll bet we could correct a lot of these wrongs and probably never get caught unless we get careless. The newspapers and television people will scream vigilante justice and bleed all over the place. I have seen the time when I would have gladly assassinated some punk after some smart ass legal-eagle worked the system and the punk walked out grinning like a shit„eating cat. The one you mentioned yesterday doesn't deserve to be walking around free. He should be on death row right now, and would be if he wasn't rich