44105: True Fiction

By Jesse Davidson

I am Detective Christian Hues & this is my story on how i was a victim and got on the trail of one of Cleveland's worse serial killers, before Sowell and Michael Madison it was Gabriel Knight.
Cleveland has tallied 61 unsolved murders of woman dating back to 2004 most occuring in the 44105 zip code, which is the fourth district my jurisdiction my precinct.
Four patrolmen plus myself were handpicked to become part of a special drug and homicide taskforce. In an attempt to revamp Cleveland's economy by building casinos also giving the flats a face lift to attract more visitors to the city, but with the rise in drug related homicides investors are beginning to reconsider.
To become a homicide detective is my ambition but never knew my wife and unborn child would be my first real case!

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098325114

Book preview

© Jesse Davidson 2020

ISBN: 978-1-09832-510-7

eBook ISBN: 978-1-09832-511-4

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

I was born in the midst of a dying society of alcoholics, and heroin addicts, whom unknowingly was the genesis of a new epidemic (crack), and mass incarceration of colored people. My city is Cleveland, Ohio & I am Jesse Davidson. I am what you see in the mirror, on the corners, at your jobs, in your schools, in your jails & eventually in your cemetery plot! I am that Spirit!

Contents

CHAPTER 1

Christian Hues

CHAPTER 2

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 3

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 4

ABBY HUES

CHAPTER 5

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 6

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 7

AGENT JACK SULTER

CHAPTER 8

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 9

YOUNG YAY

CHAPTER 10

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 11

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 12

DETECTIVE BENNY HUTCHERSON (Det. B.)

CHAPTER 13

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 14

DETECTIVE BENNY HUTCHERSON

CHAPTER 15

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 16

YOUNG YAY

CHAPTER 17

ANGELA RIVERA

CHAPTER 18

DETECTIVE BENNY HUTCHERSON

CHAPTER 19

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 20

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 21

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 22

DETECTIVE BENNY HUTCHERSON

CHAPTER 23

AGENT JACK SULTER

CHAPTER 24

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 25

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 26

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 27

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 28

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 29

CHRISTIAN HUES

CHAPTER 30

GABRIEL KNIGHT

CHAPTER 31

GABRIEL KNIGHT

CHAPTER 32

JODY BRENNER

CHAPTER 33

JODY BRENNER

CHAPTER 34

JODY BRENNER

CHAPTER 35

JODY BRENNER

CHAPTER 36

DETECTIVE BENNY HUTCHERSON

EPILOGUE

GABRIEL

CHAPTER 1

Christian Hues

I lived for my job as a Cleveland Detective. Ever since I was a small boy, I wanted to be in Homicide. I wanted the respect of carrying a gun and being able to help people. My father was gunned down when I was a baby on Father’s Day, so they’ve told me, so I vowed to never allow another innocent child to go through the pain of knowing somebody could get away with murdering someone they love dearly and nothing be done about it.

The alarm clock buzzed and I hit snooze to give myself a few moments to pray before facing the evils of this cruel world then planted my feet on the carpet of my bedroom. My wife Abby was already gone to work at the Cleveland Clinic as a Registered Nurse. She left my dinner in the fridge and as always a note, Hey love! I pray that you awoke feeling life and knowing I love you with every fiber of my being have a good day, Love Abby.

I stumbled to the shower stepping over our baby, Girly-Jane a Shih Tzu mixed with poodle, allowing the water to reach the perfect temperature before getting in. Before getting in the water, I stared at my six pack that is slowly disappearing, and I thought, I’ve been slacking.

As I showered, my mind drifted back to my career. I was so happy to be working as a detective, although I had to go through the formalities of working so many hours in the vice unit before getting my homicide shield but I was fine with that. I was promoted fairly quickly, but with the rise in crime in Cleveland inner city, it was much needed. In addition, I seemed to have an innate bond to the streets, especially since I’ve been in them since I was a child. I could be in my patrol car with my partner and point out the drug dealers, from the drug runners, to the look outs, and last the customers. With no father, my mom did the best she could until she was swallowed by the streets as well. I could have easily been one of the characters that I could spot a mile away; I just wanted more.

Cleveland neighborhoods were becoming overwhelmed with drugs, and the homicide percent was up from last year which brought pressure from the Governor on down, especially since Mayor Jackson has begun the Rebuild Downtown Program or RDP for short. It started with Jacks Casino and the extension to that with the Racino, but with the killings, investors are concerned. So, the Mayor along with the Chief of Police, Chief Williams are increasing not just the Homicide division, but the drug task force as well. Patrolmen with potential to be great detectives are being recruited for this very purpose.

I was one of the five brought in to start a two-week training course on ethics and codes of the street which to them are pretty serious. I felt I could have taught that class myself being I survived this dangerous environment we will be policing. I had so much to add but held back. I didn’t want to come off as a know it all. My wisdom will be my advantage, I thought.

Today is our actual first day to be in the field and my heart was pumping like I was high on coke and caffeine sprinkled with nicotine too. My cell rang while I was getting dressed. Hues I said.

I’ll be pulling up in thirty minutes, please be ready rookie, Detective Fulton, our trainer said.

Fulton was one of the senior Detectives in vice whom made it his business to express his disdain for the program, mainly because all the senior guys had to bust their asses literally to get where they were. He definitely has made it hard for all four recruits and me as well. Ok ole school, I said before hanging up. The last few days during the briefings you could feel the tension between us, rookies and the old heads, who we secretly named the senior guys, but I’ll show them, I keep telling myself.

I threw on an old pair of Levi’s, some high-top air force ones and a black tee shirt. I walked through the house to find my Cavs pro model cap and in the process, I read my daily love note again from my Abby that she left under a magnet on the fridge door and smiled to myself. I filled Girly-Jane’s bowl with water, and I locked my front door as I sat on the stairs to wait on Detective Fulton. Looking up and down my street at the little drug dealers in the making, I sat in deep contemplation, while they played stick ball.

He picked me up in an all-white 2008 Chevy Tahoe, the days of Ford Crown Victoria’s and Chevy Impalas as detective cars were long gone. He was playing Jay-Z’s American Gangster cd; Fulton was probably the blackest man I had ever seen in my life. He was like a linebacker, big and always upset it seemed. He was divorced twice with no kids, that we know of. I’m married to the job he would say.

Check dig, he started as soon as I got in the truck. Look man, I’d appreciate it if you sit back and observe the veterans at this. I would hate for you to get killed and your blood be on my hands, feel me?

I smiled thinking I can’t wait to show this old head what I know, so instead of starting a pissing contest I remained quiet. I stared out the window placing everyone we rode by in what I believed was their proper category. Drug dealer, I thought of the young teenager with the expensive True Religion jeans hanging off his ass, white tee shirt and construction Timberland boots. Crack head, to the lady with the pink scarf on her head, Aunt Jemima style and tie dye sundress that may have fit her nice before the drugs took control of her life. I did this all the way to the station, bobbing my head to the music while categorizing every person I saw in my mind.

We made a left off Kinsman Rd. on to 93rd. The fourth district sat directly across from a Shell gas station, a closed down KFC restaurant to the left, then a liquor store not even a thousand yards away. Only in Cleveland, I thought.

Det. Fulton pulled on the side where all officers parked under the eye of the camera and we approached the side door. I lingered back to allow the big bad veteran to make his infamous entrance. He bursts through the door so that it always swings and makes a loud crack against the stopper, scaring anyone who’s not familiar with the deed. What an asshole, I thought every time I’ve witnessed him do it.

The Drug unit department was located upstairs above the cells where the criminals are stored before they were transported downtown to the Justice Center that everyone calls The County. The third floor was Homicide. That’s where I intended on heading after my tour of duty here and I can’t wait.

Captain Conner was a short balding white man that reminds me of Mario from the Super Mario Brothers game on Nintendo. He was standing in the doorway to his office sipping a big gulp cup of coffee, with what looked to be a jelly stain on his shirt probably from a donut. Rookie, come here, he said between sips, but I kept walking. Once you start allowing the squad to disrespect you, it will never stop, and rookie was profanity to my ears. Hues, get your ass in here! Captain screamed. That’s more like it, I thought walking to his office.

He was staring out the window with his back to me. Yes sir, I said standing in front of an old vinyl chair that looks like it has seen its share of tired cops getting chewed out and reprimanded.

I want you to know, he started, taking his time with each word. I’ve spoken with the other four the same as I am with you. We work as a team here, and I don’t need no superstar stunts; no one man commandos! Any fuck up; and the shit rolls downhill to me, and if it hits me, you guys are canned. I don’t think this whole rookie transition shit is going to fly. I just pray nobody gets hurt or killed. Please look at today as in the field training still.

While he was giving the worse motivational speech I’ve ever heard, I was staring at this closest he called an office. The muggy smell, and dusty plaques on the wall, really made me question is this what I really want?

Hues! he yelled snapping me back from my thoughts.

Yes sir? I answered.

Be careful! he concluded and I shook his hand and left.

CHAPTER 2

CHRISTIAN HUES

The team consisted of fifteen veteran detectives, then you had the rookies which was Rivera, Webber, Hilton, and Randall then myself. Rivera was recruited from the first district and has been out of the academy three years longer than the rest of us. He’s married to his high school sweetheart. Rumor has it, he has a weakness for petite strippers and alcohol but every man has his own vices.

Hilton and Webber both came from the second district on the west side. Both trained under Kevin Chiles, whom was named officer of the year after capturing the murderer of Shakira in 2003. It made national news since she was dismembered, although the man was acquitted in December of 2004. Hilton was a true hillbilly. He moved to Cleveland from West Virginia and wasn’t too fond of working around what he called colored folks; until Webber saved his life.

During a routine traffic stop, the passenger opened fire with an assault rifle pinning Hilton down after catching a shot in the leg and was almost out of ammo. Webber and his partner responded to the back up call and while Webber’s partner-maintained cover fire, Webber risked his life and drug Hilton to safety. Ever since then, Hilton considered them official brothers and told anyone who would listen. Matter of fact, Webber was the first Black to ever set foot in Hilton’s home and his wife loves Webber to death for saving her baby Hilton’s life.

Randall was recruited from the fifth district located off St Clair Rd. the Collinwood area that’s pretty rough. He’s an ex-Ohio State football star that decided to join the force after a bad MCL knee injury. He aspires to eventually be the commissioner. His wife is Asian and has a successful private psychology practice in Beachwood. They don’t see eye to eye with this save the world dream Randall has. He’s considered a hot head and has been disciplined for excessive force and received a one-week suspension without pay in the past. They say if his wife didn’t give a healthy donation to the Chief’s fundraiser, Randall would still be on traffic detail and not here with us.

Today’s agenda girls, is a little door knocking, Det. Fulton said excitedly. We want clean, safe executions.

Remember, we have newbies with us fellas. Don’t start them off on the wrong track, Captain Conner said then gave the floor back to Det. Fulton.

After an hour of going over tactical planning, we all geared up. There are three places we are raiding simultaneously. Our perpetrator or perp that we’re trying to apprehend is Big Larry as the streets call him. He’s a major heroin dealer, and a suspect in two drug related overdoses. His primary residence is 9505 Elisabeth Ave., that’s believed to be the stash house or where all the cash is stored before he launders it. The second residence is 10209 Benham Ave. where the drugs are distributed to not only users but also mid-level dealers. The third residence will be 14505 Bartlett Rd. where the drugs are manufactured, mixed and bagged, and this is where we expect to capture him. A surveillance team has been watching Big Larry since last night and he hasn’t moved. Both vehicles that he’s known to drive are in the driveway.

This is where the new recruits will be utilized, Det. Fulton explained. It would be safer to position them here than seizing a house full of drugs addicts or young drug dealers thinking they Scarface and want to go out in a blaze of glory! And he ended on that note.

All three teams were in vans with a patty wagon accompanying each one so criminals can be loaded quickly and if needed, the unit cars can assist elsewhere. Everyone made it to position with in thirty minutes. Team one hissed over the radio earpieces we all had in our helmets. Be alert girls were heading in, Det. Fulton said. "3,2,1 Go, Go, Go," Fulton yelled through the transmitter. My heart was beating in my ears. I was the last one out the van and my position was to secure the back door. I heard the yell of C.P.D and the crack of what I assumed was the steel security door being yanked off the hinges, then the smack of a battling ram to wood. This all echoed under my heavy breathing in my helmet. "Clear, clear," I heard. We have our suspect, echoed through my earpiece.

I leaned against the vinyl siding next to the stairs leading to the backdoor, and I prayed and thanked God. I thought, this wasn’t so bad. Then like a sick joke through the earpiece, "Gun! Gun!" someone yelled. I didn’t catch the voice, but it wasn’t Det. Fulton. Then it sounded like the fourth of July.

I held my position like I was told. Officer down! Code red! I repeat, officer down! I heard come through the door shouting into the radio. My arms were so tired from holding my assault rifle at the back door in all this gear. It was a hundred degrees in my suit not to mention the humidity. The heat was torturous; this was summer heat in Cleveland. Sweat burned my eyes as I wondered who was down. Was he hurt bad? Will he make it? All this I questioned.

I heard an ambulance in a distance getting closer. CLEAR! came through my earpiece again, but I still held my position. I was like a war veteran suffering from P.T.S.D, until Webber came around the house behind me calling my name. Rivera, he said knowing what I was about to ask. The suspect is dead. I finally lowered my weapon and also my head in disbelief. Rivera is dead! Damn, I said to myself.

The other two raids were successful; eighteen arrests, six semi-automatic weapons confiscated and over five hundred grams of black tar heroin collected. Big Larry had over three hundred fifty thousand in his stash house and was pronounced dead on the scene.

News cameras were recording live around the crime scene, but outside the yellow tape. We were instructed to leave our helmets on until we were back in our vehicles to protect our identities. It’s procedure and a good one. I didn’t know Rivera but we were on the same team, and this hurt. Det. Fulton came and sat next to me back at the station in the room for debriefing.

I knew you rookies were fuck ups. Without thinking, I slammed an elbow with my left arm to his jaw, then I swung with my right to his eye. He weaved it, picked me up from a sitting position and slammed me on top of one of the tables knocking all the breath out of my body. He hit me with two quick powerful jabs to the face then they broke us up.

Rivera is dead and this how you act? Jesus Christ! Captain Conner screamed over the commotion to the whole team and the room fell silent. I was embarrassed for my actions.

The news couldn’t stop showing the clip of Rivera’s body being placed into the coroner truck. That body bag image was devastating to show the world. The police commissioner made a sincere apology to Det. Rivera’s family and a heartfelt promise was made to the citizens of Cleveland that, these streets will be safe again and you can bet a Jack’s Casino dollar on it. No more brothers in blue blood will be shed if he had anything to do about it.

CHAPTER 3

CHRISTIAN HUES

Over the next few weeks our unit made more arrest than Cleveland had seen in years. It’s like we were taking revenge out on the criminals for Rivera and a lot of that was thanks to me, rookie Christian Hue’s. Captain wanted to shut down the new recruit program, but our unit was under a microscope of the whole world, so to stop us now would prove it was a bad idea, and nobody wants to be proven wrong. It’s all politics. So as bad as Captain wants to, he couldn’t pull us out, not now.

Every Thursday through Saturday we implemented the jump out strategy, that I thought of. I remembered it from back when I was a youth watching them old Chevy’s with four detectives speeding up with doors opened leaping out grabbing whomever was loitering. These people were mainly low-level drug dealers or perps for drug paraphernalia to those with minor warrants, like traffic violations and child support.

Drugs wasn’t the biggest issue it was the homicides that came with that market, and the drug raids were a small deterrent to the real problem. I was allowed to start assisting Det. Fulton to give a dichotomy of the old and new thought, since it’s a new breed of criminals from when Det. Fulton and the veterans were patrolmen. We strategized safer and more efficient ways to perform raids. Det. Fulton wasn’t pleased about it, but after Rivera’s death, Captain was willing to try anything to prevent another casualty in this war on drugs.

I was parked on 110th on Woodland Rd. in a vacant lot that used to be Gene’s drive through store. I was waiting on one of my informants, really my only informant, who has given me a few solid tips in the past. Her name was Linda; she was addicted to sniffing coke and worked at Tops and Bottoms as an exotic dancer. She was a beautiful sister with long black hair that fell middle ways her back and caramel skin on a five -foot frame, with that video vixen shape. She had a powerful aura about herself and was actually very intelligent. It was the junkie part; cocaine had screwed her life up.

I busted her when I was a patrolman fresh out the academy. I pulled over her BMW m5 for speeding and loud music. When I approached the driver side to get L’s and I’s which is license and insurance, she had a white substance around her nostril, and I noticed how nervous she was acting, so I searched her vehicle. The search produced a few grams of cocaine and she had a warrant for soliciting. We worked out an agreement, she would occasionally help me out, and I would pay her according to the validity of her information.

Linda pulled up in her little red Audi a6. I figured she upgraded from the beamer. They say it’s a recession, not for strippers and drug dealers. I always felt she had more potential but who am I, when the bible teaches us not to judge. I try but I’m human, I thought.

Hey baby, she said resting her hand on top of mines. She has a way of flirting even when it’s harmless; it’s just natural in the lifestyle she’s in, I guess.

You looking healthy and sober, I said.

Well, I have some good news and some bad news, she said while taking a cigarette out the Newport pack, cracking the window since she knows I don’t smoke.

Oh yea? I turned the AC on low. What’s the good news? I asked.

It’s some guys from out of town. They’ve been coming to the club picking up three or four of us, the baddees they call us, to go to their place as eye candy. We just walk around naked, sniffing coke and drinking expensive liquor, while they break down kilos, a lot of kilos, she repeated.

I cut her off, I thought you were clean? I asked disappointed.

You’re missing the point. Listen, I can’t get this type of information being a good girl. Then she puffed her cigarette. Do you want me to finish or not?

Please continue, I apologize.

I don’t know exactly where all of them are from. The one that likes me has a southern accent, maybe Atlanta or Miami, but a few sounds more New York or New Jersey and one for sure is from here.

Ok what’s the bad news?

Well, she sighed. You only have tonight to hit them! The one attracted to me was asking if I would leave with him tonight for a couple weeks, making drops up the coast New York, VA, etc. They have big guns, big, big guns like on the movies, military, you know.

She flicked her cigarette butt out the window and without a pause she said, "Ten thousand for this, and before you start trying to talk me down like