Justice Preserved

By William Allan

Justice Preserved offers readers 12 crime stories in one book.
Private Detective Frank Johnson tackles cases that baffle the police, often risking his life, while battling his own demons.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543925296

William Allan

I am W. Allan. I am a graduate Harris Teachers College and Washington University in St. Louis, Mizzery. I lived in Mizzery until I moved to Florida in 1984, and my only regret is that I didn't do it sooner. I have no background in writing, and if my English Comp. Teacher knew that my ABG column was read with some enthusiasm around the world today, she would roll over in her grave. Thank God for "Spell Check" and "Grammar Correction". If I were to be allowed only one word to describe myself it would be "curious". As far back as I can remember; I have been curious about why things were as they were. Of course, I realize now that things are as they are, only as far as my perceptions interpret them to be. I have learned that reality is not all that simple. Things are as they are, only to the extent, as they appear to be to the physical senses, and we all live in a world of appearances. I have learned that if you want to find what lies inside of the inside, you must to a large extent, set aside the intellect and release the intuitions. I guess you could classify me as a "wonderer", since I have always wondered about what lies beneath the physical world that our senses present to us. I always knew there was more to reality than was apparent to the casual observer, and at that time I was a casual observer. I now reside in Bonita Springs, on the outskirts of Naples Florida. I sometimes use Naples as my place or residence, rather than Bonita Springs, simply because Naples is more well known. I have lived in Florida for some 25 years now, moving here in 1984 from St. Louis. I began writing articles some 15 years ago for a few spiritual/metaphysical magazines, but found early on that I always met with some frustration, since the normal magazine allots only 1000 words or about 1 full page to their articles, one page and no more. I learned early on that I just could not explain the difficult universal concepts that I wanted to talk about in 1000 words or less, so I quit doing that. Sometime later, I stumbled on the blog format and set up the "ANSWERS BY GOD" blog web site. This blog format offered me more latitude in writing my articles and the available space only limited by my own good sense, which I have never been accused of exercising too rigorously in the past. I still found this inadequate, since my goal was to help others understand concepts that are barely able to be grasped by the human brain, and that kind of knowledge cannot be explained in 500 words or less. So now, thanks to technology and the e-publishing book format, I can finally fully express my ideas and concepts, as I never could in the past. The ABG blog web site contains hundreds of articles, condensed in content to fit the blog format, but it's a great place to review the nature of my book material. The "Enigma" books allow me to elaborate on some articles carried in the blog, but there is much more. One important thing I have learned is that the individual personality knows no limitations. Translation; you can truly be whatever you believe you can be, so don't sell yourself short. Believe big.

Book preview

Allan

CHAPTER

1

The Case of the

Kidnapped Children

Detective Frank Johnson was reading the Chatham Gazette in his favourite comfy chair in his study. He was a wiry man with striking grey eyes that certainly could flash but if you looked deeper you would see sadness in them.

He stroked his short beard as he read one story he found interesting.

The phone rang. It was the police department, the call display said.

Ah, Inspector Nelson, Johnson said. He activated the speaker phone.

Hello inspector, he said.

Hello Frank. We need your assistance again, Bob Nelson said.

Not again, Johnson said. I just solved a case for you last week.

Yes, and I greatly appreciated that. But we need you again. We have two murders of Chatham store owners in their stores. We thought a gang was demanding protection money and they refused to pay. But the other stores in the area didn’t report being approached. We searched the stores and the victims’ homes for drugs, even with dogs, to find any residue of drugs in case the killers took them, but came up with nothing. We’re at a loss.

Okay, I’ll go to the stores and see the bodies in the morgue and report back to you. Give me the addresses, Johnson said.

Thanks Frank.

Johnson searched both stores starting with the local music store. He always enjoyed record stores and would spend hours in them perusing all his jazz favourites and looking to find an elusive copy of an outdated jazz master. He searched but did not find anything.

The next stop was the hardware store that was greatly favoured by the townspeople. You could find most anything you wanted at Neil’s Hardware and people always enjoyed visiting with the staff and each other. Another dead end in terms of any clues.

He arrived at the morgue and asked to see the bodies of the two victims, Bruce Smith and Neil Schmidt. Johnson enjoyed joking with the morgue attendant Vicky, who had a wry sense of humour and loved to joke as the rest of her job was never very conducive to laughter.

Johnson’s attention soon turned to the victims’ right hands. They both had red material under their fingernails.

Johnson called Nelson.

Did the coroner examine the material under their fingernails?

He thought it looked like the victims’ had run their right hands over a rough surface like cement and just made the skin under their nails bleed a bit, Nelson said.

I don’t think so, Johnson said. Let me guess which coroner it was, probably the one who should have retired years ago.

Yeah, well.

Could you ask him to examine that material. I’m hoping it may be the blood of their killers.

I will.

Nelson’s father and grandfather had been city police officers. Nelson joined up right out of school and slowly moved up to inspector over the years.

He was now 58 years old and living in Chatham with his wife Angela and two children, Tom and Barbara, both now studying at Chatham University. Both were also engaged to be married.

A few days later the results were in.

Well you were right, Nelson said. The material was human skin and blood. But it wasn’t from their killers. It appears to be from young children. Both victims’ children are grown and have left home so that isn’t an avenue to pursue.

I don’t like the sound of that. You know what this could mean, don’t you?

Yes, but there isn’t a child prostitution ring in Chatham as far as we know. But gangs are more active in Fleming, Nelson said.

‘I should go there and have a look around," Johnson said.

‘Do you want us to go with you?

No. You know I work alone. I’ll call if I need you. And if I do call, don’t dawdle.

The next morning, Johnson was in the office of Fleming Mayor John Scott.

Hello Frank. How can I help you?

I need to know if you are aware of any gang haunts in the city, Johnson said.

The only one I know is a warehouse on the eastern outskirts of the city. They have loud parties there every Friday night. In fact, there’ll be one there tonight. I’m sure to get noise complaints tomorrow.

Thanks. That helps a lot.

When he left the mayor’s office, Johnson confronted once again the most traumatic time of his life. Just a block away from city hall, his young wife and four-year-old daughter were murdered during a robbery attempt. Getting no money, the robber shot his wife and then his daughter, fearing she could identify him.

The robber was never found.

Johnson left Fleming soon after that, no longer wanting to live in the city, and moved to Chatham.

But that crime scene convinced Johnson to become a policeman, like his father.

However he soon became bored with all the paperwork and left to become a private detective. His relationship with the Chatham Police Department was very close and in many ways it was as if he was still a police officer.

Work was spotty at first, but when the police started dealing with budget cuts he got more jobs from them. It was now very lucrative work after the homicide division also suffered deep budget cuts.

Johnson had now been a detective for 25 years and at the age of 62 was contemplating retirement. But not until work started drying up again, because there were too many jobs to pass up now.

While driving to the gang warehouse, he