Brooklyn Chronicles

By Lloyd Smith

Brooklyn Chronicles is a fast-paced urban novel that chronicles a chain of events surrounding murder, mayhem, and corruption along the Brooklyn piers. Detective Rices determination to eradicate organized crime in Bed-Stuy leads to his untimely demise, which creates a chain of events that widens as two private investigators seek to solve his murder. The following results align the real leadership of Bed-Stuy against corrupt politicians and police officers. Rosa, the wife of Detective Rice, is determined to bring closure to her husbands murder, only to be considered a prime suspect. Her beauty causes a conflict of interest between Roy Vanderbilt and Rock Lewis, the two investigators who come to her aid, against one investigators better judgment. As mentors for the youth of Bed-Stuy, both men are determine to be role models throughout the neighborhood while maintaining unwavering commitment to the district attorneys office. DA Kilpatrick lives and breathes to clean up the neighborhood and be a major factor in crushing the recidivism that destroys the community and the youth. Each clue to the demise of Detective Rice opens up a new can of worms for the city and forces politicians to choose which side they represent.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Feb 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781449738792

Lloyd Smith

Lloyd Smith is seventy-two and currently resides in Brooklyn, New York. A former Marine Korean War veteran (1953–1955), Mr. Smith enjoys reading, writing poetry, and singing. He is making his mark as a creative author a reality.

Book preview

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 1

Time: Six months earlier

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The bullet-riddled bodies of two men were discovered along the same pier where Detective John Rice had stumbled across some shady characters holding a secret meeting earlier within the week.

Crime scene tape still remained from earlier police investigators who had spent the entire morning searching for clues.

Detective Rice knew about hunches and, sometimes, that was all he had to work on to crack a case. He had received a tip from one of his informants relating to the string of murders along the Brooklyn piers over the last few months. Rice started relying on his hunches when he drove by the deserted pier in Brooklyn around 3 a.m., and saw two men having a conversation on the pier. He found it highly unusual for anyone to be out there that time of night, so he pulled over to park in a secluded spot.

He got out discreetly and moved closer to see what might be happening. After a short walk, he hid behind a warehouse to watch the two men talking, and looking across the east River to Manhattan. He could not hear what they were discussing, nor could he afford to reveal himself, which he felt could be dangerous to his own safety, and could deflect them away from their real intentions.

The detective squint his eyes trying to identify them, but they only appeared to be white males in their forties, seemingly business-types in raincoats. Checking his watch, he realized that he had been observing them for twenty minutes. Their meeting seemed highly suspicious. His mind wandered first to thinking they might be with the mob, but he did not recognize them from any of the undercover NYPD mobster pictures he had seen over the years.

Then, one man handed the other man some papers. After that, they continued talking. Rice assumed the papers must be very important, probably something secret, to bring them out at this time of morning to a deserted pier. Their meeting to exchange the papers didn’t add up to him.

When the lights of a van headed towards the men, Rice stepped back to avoid being seen by the approaching van. The van pulled to a stop next to the two men. He observed that the driver did not get out, but kept the van running. The man with the papers walked over to the driver and handed him the papers. Then, the van made a quick exit. Detective Rice ducked down again to avoid the headlights as the van drove away. He tried to get the license plate, but could only see the letter S.

Something big must be taking place he thought to himself. The two men appeared in no hurry to leave. Only the van driver seemed anxious to get away.

Detective Rice’s mind was tossing around all kinds of scenarios as to some kind of criminal activities—drugs, bank heist, or maybe some dirty politicians. After all, politics is very often a dirty game. The detective knew how criminals did their worst activities in the shadows. These men seemed to be in the shadows too much to make Rice feel they were legitimate businessmen.

After an hour of talking, the two men turned to walk away slowly from their view of Manhattan across the East River.

Detective Rice eased his way back to his car. He figured that he could go up to them, show his badge, and demand to know what they were doing, but at the same time he also knew that a criminal would just as easy lie to him. Assessing the situation he concluded that without his partner he might even be killed. In other words, he and his car could disappear into the East River. Tomorrow was another day, and he planned on asking a lot of questions at work.

Rice made a quick decision to get to his car and try to follow one or both of them. That plan went afoul when he kicked something that made a noise. Rice looked back to see the two men stop to look up. They realized now that someone had been around in the dark watching them.

Detective Rice made a quick retreat to his car, got in, and drove away. He looked in the mirror to see one of the men holding a small pair of binoculars, and looking at his car.

When the detective reached a safe hiding place, he waited for them to drive away from the pier. This way he could get a license plate number and run it through th department of motor vehicle. He waited almost an hour, but no car drove back from the pier.

Rice took a chance and drove back to the pier. To his surprise, the two men had disappeared. From the general safety of his car and with the doors locked, he looked around for the men. Rolling down the driver’s window he listened for additional noises along the pier. Everything was quiet. He seemed to have run into a dead-end.

The detective made a mental note to check with his street contacts tomorrow to see what they might know. In the meantime, he decided it was time to head home.

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The next day Rice started contacted his street informers and other associates on the street who might have heard something—a heist in the planning, or some form of corruption. Though he still had other investigations to work on, what he saw at the pier intrigued him, and he had a hunch to follow up on that strange event at the pier from the following night.

At the end of the day, Rice had come up with nothing. If the two men did not drive away, he wondered how they might have left the pier. He could only assume a boat was there, or came by later to pick them up. He had other hunches about the van that raced up and drove off suddenly.

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Upon reaching the house, his beautiful wife, Rosa greeted him at the door with a kiss, and an evening glass of wine. Gulping the wine down instantly, Rice kicked off his shoes, and sat down on the living room couch. Normally he couldn’t wait to share with his wife certain events that occurred on the job, but tonight’s event weighted heavy on his mind.

His some what cold demeanor did not slip pass Rosa. She noticed her husband seemed disturbed by something, even though he never went into deep details about his work, she knew when something was bothering him. This time there was something different going on.

John, something’s bothering you. I can tell. What is it? Rosa asked while pouring him another drink.

It’s just something strange that I came across, he said.

You can’t brush it off lightly, John. After fifteen years of marriage, I know you. You’ve always looked out, and shared with me, I can listen. Nobody will know. You know that, Rosa said softly.

I know. I just don’t like it when I see something and I can’t find out what might be going on, he said.

What did you see?

He confided in her what he had seen and told her he had no idea what they said. The van that took the papers and raced away created more of a mystery to him. None of it added up to be good. Doggone-it! he said in frustration over not being able to get the van’s license plate.

Okay, that’s what’s been bothering you? Rosa asked.

Maybe something more, I saw one of the men at the pier apparently pull out some binoculars. He probably got my license number. It seemed strange that someone would have pocket binoculars.

"But you were in an unmarked car, right? Rosa asked anxiously.

Yes, but the right kind of criminal might have the right contacts to find out that I was on duty and driving that car. I’m mad at myself for making so many errors tonight.

Rosa set on his lap and gave him a big hug. I know you’re upset with yourself. At least you told me and that’s good, She said sympathetically.

Taking a sip, he continued on, If those guys were responsible for the two murders on the pier two days ago, I’d like to be the one that nail their behinds.

I know, Honey. You always tell me that criminals have a way of making mistakes and that means they’ll get caught, right? She said, smiling. Come on, she added, raising an eyebrow.

He knew she wanted him to relax. He relented to her seductive smile. Rosa was still a beautiful woman whom he could not resist. In fact, most men enjoyed looking over her beautiful face, ample breasts, and curvy hips. John felt the luckiest man on earth when he met her in Puerto Rico and brought her back to New York City as his wife.

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The next day Detective Rice, acting on another one of his many hunches, waited until the cover of darkness to drive back to the crime scene alone. His heart raced a mile a minute as he tried to picture the events that led up to the double homicide. Walking around the yellow tape he tried to envision the circumstances that led to the men demise.

The initial report speculated of gang warfare for turf along the pier. The diversified criminal elements had rival ethic groups battling for control of certain part of the pier where boats docked to unload their merchandizes.

Detective Rice was thoroughly familiar with the history of the Brooklyn piers as far back to the early part of the