Wrong Person: Carole Larsen Mysteries

By charles fisher

Shelby Anders appears, niece of serial killer James Anders. She is not what the department would expect.  The riddle leads Carla to California, where she encounters a corrupt Chief of Detectives. Carmella commits murder working a case; Carole fires her and arrests her. This leads to a showdown between Carole and Carla, who was in charge of the operation. In July, Carole moves up to Police Commissioner and Carla takes over as Chief of Detectives. Lots of promotions, and the return of a couple of former players.

• Language: English
• Publisher: charles fisher
• Release date: Jan 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393445302

Book preview

Wrong Person

For she is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for she does not bear the sword in vain. For she is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God’s wrath on the wrongdoer.

Stratford Police Department

900 Longbrook Ave.

Stratford, Connecticut

January, 2006

––––––––

That was not funny, what you did out there, Carole said as she sat down at her desk. You two idiots made a mockery of the awards ceremony.

Shit on your awards ceremony, Carla grumbled. I didn’t get no award, as usual.

You didn’t do anything to deserve one, as usual, Carole smiled. Harper got her second Police Medal of Valor, or whatever we call it, because she took down a drug operation and killed six people.

I got that beat, Carla grinned. I killed more people than her any day of the week, but I ain’t got no medal.

You have the steel plate in your head, Harper grinned. That’s made of metal.

Shit on you, Junior, Carla huffed. I come  by that honest like, durin’ a bad thunderstorm at the orphanage. I were hangin’ clothes on that metal cable them assholes gave us for a clothesline, and lightin’ hit it, she grinned. Zapped my Abdullah It Ain’t  Obligated to be no Longer and de-capacitated my brain.

You never had a brain, Harper said. You had two pounds of cat shit in your skull.

Can we get back to the subject? Carole said. Carla wants a commendation.

No I do not, Carla said. I want me a medal like Betty Crocker got.

There was no such person, Carole smiled. They made it up.

Then make up a medal for my ass. I been shot.

Too bad he missed that cinder block you call a head, Carole smiled.

Mike Capri shot my desirable young ass, Carla huffed. I got to wait for that to heal up now, and it better not leave no scar. That be like leavin’ a shit stain on the Mona Lisa, she grinned.

You’d know all  about that, Rectal Ranger, Harper smiled.

I am gonna shit in your car, Carla nodded.

I didn’t get my car yet, Harper smiled. You better produce, too. And real fucking soon. I won that match against Nina Goldman  fair and square, and you made five million dollars as a result. I want my Jaguar.

Do you really think I believe Mike shot you, Carla? Carole smiled. I may be stupid, but it wasn’t last night. Or something like that.

Look at the evy-dence, Carla nodded. Y’all got a picture of Mike with the gun in his hand. Or close to it, anyway, she grinned. You got the bullet Shifty dug out of my poor never will heal so I cannot work no more pension collectin’ ass, and it is a match to the gun he got. What else y’all need? I want my medal, you bastard.

You’re not getting one, Carole said. Unless you do something that calls for it.

I’ll call for it, Carla said. Gimme the damn telephone.

No. You showed up drunk at the ceremony, as usual. As I said, you made a mockery of it.

Mockery dockery dock, Carla sucked somebody’s cock, Harper screeched. I’m sorry, I just can’t take it when she rips a huge fart in front of the whole department.

What did you say about me, you little airport whore bastard? Carla exclaimed. I ain’t never sucked nothing. You take that back.

Make me, Harper said. I got room on my dance card after I kick Thelma’s ass at the Easter pay-per-view.

Okay, you  do what you gotta do, Shifty. We have had us a dance or two. You want more?

You want your face cut up again, Blade Runner? Harper said. How about an anything goes match in May?

There will be no such match, Carole said. I cannot have my Detectives endangering each other’s lives. Harper, do you really want to kill Carla?

Yeah, I do, Harper leered. I want to put her in the Crossface and snap her spindly little pencil neck. I can do it, too, and she knows it. Come on, tough guy; put that extra large ass on the line one more time.

Okay, Carla grinned. I will do the match. A sauerkraut juice match, she ginned. Loser gives up when her opponent sits on her face and rips one.

You’re on, Harper said. You aren’t the only one who can drink that disgusting shit.

Carla looked at Carole. Minnesota Morning Mango Mayhem?

Works for me, Carole shrugged. Meantime, you idiots have cases to clear. Like finding the rest of Jimmy Anders’ clones.

That ain’t easy, Carla said.

You are, Harper grinned.

Like you’d know, Carla huffed. I am a virgin of the highest quality, not like you. Last time we went to Ver-mont you sucked you a big old moose cock.

He wasn’t old! Harper yelled. You screwed the Deli guy with one eye and that ridiculous checkered hat.

I did not, Carla huffed. I may be on the desperate side of town, but ain’t nobody that desperate.

You have to go back to Vermont, Carole smiled. That’s the last place there was any real trace of Anders.

Piss on you, Carla said. Last time we saw the boy was that clone in Bridgeport. We done fixed him, too. The Jew computer dude done it. Boy is still livin’ over the Kit Kat Klub tryin’ to remember what’s it’s like to wake up in the morning without a Dominican gal sittin’ on his face. He gonna rat out his Daddy, too. I am gonna enjoy de-Nazifyin’ that son of a bitch.

Clones aren’t the originals, Carole said. You had Anders tracked down in Germany. Where did he go?

Dairy Queen, Carla giggled. Boy likes to dress up in girly underwear. Too bad y’all can’t do that.

I can too! Carole yelled. You better watch yourself. I can still appoint somebody else to take over my position when I become Police Commissioner, and it might not be you. How would you like to work under Vito?

How would y’all like to work under the Fairlane? Carla grinned. The new house be close to the ocean. Real easy to get rid of  dead old people there.

I’m not old, Carole huffed. I’m just not as young as I used to be. Neither are you, Miss I Can’t Stand Up For More Than Ten Minutes.

I ain’t goin’ to Ver-mont, Carla said.

Yes you are, Carole grinned.

No I ain’t.

Chief of Detectives Antonelli, Carole grinned.

Okay, Shifty, less go. Pack them fur panties we both got, and that Rabbit fur trainin’ bra y’all got.

Pack your own undies, Slut of the Month. I’m not touching anything that’s been on your ass.

When we have that rasslin’ match, it’s gonna be your ugly face that be on my ass, Carla grinned. And it gonna be good, too.

Keep dreaming, Flavor of the Month. Old Person is sending us to Vermont. I can’t wait until she retires.

Eat your heart out. I’ll never retire. Take Tracy, and Vito. Maybe the cold air will make him smell better.

Oh, you’ll retire all right, Harper nodded. There’s plenty of room in the basement of our new house in Lordship. Ever been strapped to a hand truck?

Well, maybe once, but that was a shipping accident involving Fedex. I can’t talk about that. Go do your job. And when you get back, I have a new murder case for you to solve.

Who got killed? Carla said.

I’m waiting for Birdwell’s report. There wasn’t enough left of him to make a positive I.D.

Him? Carla said.

Well, they did find a penis at the crime scene, Carole grinned. That means the victim may have been a man, in which case he probably deserved it. Run along now, she smiled. Vermont calls.

Larsen’s Traveler Inn

Mt. Pisgah Rd.

St. Johnsbury, Vermont

January, 2006

––––––––

Youse gotta be kidding, Vito said as he looked out at the bleak landscape. It was twenty two below zero with a fifty mile an hour wind. No Guinea can live through this shit. Youse dragged me up here before, but this is over the line.

Outside, Dago, Tracy snarled. Ya fuckin’ panty wearin’ coward. She opened the door of the Fairlane, and a wicked blast of frigid air hit her in the face.  She closed the door and sat back. Maybe you was right, she nodded. This place ain’t made for humans.

Ain’t no humans hereabouts, Carla grinned. Only Vermonters. Less go. We got our boy Tyrone in charge here; he got our back.

Oh sure, we got to depend on a spook to keep us alive. Why ain’t there no Guineas in Vermont? Vito said.

Because they all be locked up in prison, Tracy yelled as she braved the awful wind.

Wonderful place, Harper smiled as she pulled her hood up over her head. Remind me to kill Carole when I thaw out.

They went inside; Tyrone Jefferson came out to the desk. Looky here, it be the Dago and the fine assed white bitch who got me this here job, Carla. Who be the other kid?

What did you say, Buckwheat? Harper exclaimed. I’m not a kid. I’m a police Lieutenant.

Girl police Lieutenants supposed to have titties, Tyrone grinned. You come up short in that department.

How would you know? Harper shrieked. I’m wearing this big coat.

Black man can always detect titties, Tyrone grinned. It is in our genes.

We know what you got in your jeans, Sambo, Vito growled. We done this before. Real Italian man here. I want a room with heat. Youse can put these douche bags outside in the snow, he grinned.

Okay, Tyrone shrugged. I am down with the struggle for the white assholes who do not know not to come here in the winter. Clarence Jackson told me you Honkies would keep comin’ up here to fuck with the black man. Looks like he was right.

Only time he was right is when he shined my shoes, Vito grinned. I’m Italian. You ain’t. Room, Sambo. And it better have heat, unless youse imported some niggers and they stoled all the copper pipes so they could hock’em and buy crack and porno.

You got it, Tyrone smiled. Room 15.

That’s more like it, Vito nodded as he grabbed the key. Youse better not pull no shit, either. These broads would like to bangitate themselves in that strip club you got here.

I done forgot all about that, moral gal that I am, Carla grinned. Shifty likes sellin’ what passes for her ass in them clubs.

I what? Harper shrieked. I would never do that, you lying bastard.

What about Titty City in Californicate? Carla grinned.

That was a police sting to catch Senators who wanted to screw underage girls! Harper yelled. I did that against my better judgment, to protect the world. I did it for the job, she shrugged. I’m sure you understand, she said, looking up. I’m a virgin.

Gal claims to be a virgin, Carla grinned at Tyrone. What y’all think of Shifty?

Girl looks like she been spread more times  than peanut butter, Tyrone grinned. Although I got not first hand knowledge of that, because I do not go with white girls.

That’s because you couldn’t get one, Harper smiled.

Nobody would want one, Tyrone grinned. You be the devil.

I don’t believe this, Harper snapped . A worthless tree swinging idiot making fun of me. How did you get this job, Chimp?

Clarence Jackson and White Bread here got me this job. They be fine white people. Carla be my sister in the struggle; she knows Whitey be keepin’ the black man down.

Power to the People! Carla yelled. Slap me five, brother. She then went through a long handshake ritual with Tyrone. You be cool, she nodded. You be almost as cool as Frank Sinatra.

Who? Tyrone laughed.

I meant Frankie Lemon and the Teenagers, Carla grinned. Y’all know them boys, I bet. They be Negroes.

Yeah, I know every black man in the country. You white bitches got rooms. Here be the keys.

––––––––

Stratford Police Department

900 Longbrook Ave.

Stratford, Connecticut

January, 2006

––––––––

Here, you brain dead twit, Bridewell said as she threw the report on Carole’s desk. This is what’s left of Jack Riley. Too bad it wasn’t you the killer got.

Watch it, Cockless Robin, Carole said as she picked up the report. She took one look at the crime scene photos and closed the folder. That’s pretty gruesome. What was the murder weapon? she said.

The marks on the bones that survived indicate a band saw. Marks found on the tarpaulin the victim was transported in indicate a pavement roller was used.

A band saw and a pavement roller? Carole giggled. Talk about being thorough.

The histamine levels in the remains indicate the victim was alive when the band saw was used, Bridewell smirked. Clearly a revenge killing if you ask me.

Nobody asked you. Motive is above your pay grade. So whoever did this cut this dude up while he was still alive, put him on this big tarp,  then squished his ass to disguise the manner of death. I wouldn’t want to have this bitch mad at me.

How do you know it was a woman?

Carole held up one of the crime scene photos, which showed a severed human penis five feet from the remains.

Any more questions? she smiled. I’ve been doing this all my life. Only a woman kills like this. She didn’t squash the penis along with everything else, she saved it. Then she put it near the body in plain sight just to send a message.

Like I  said; a revenge killing, Bridewell said.

Maybe, maybe not. Most revenge killings are crimes of passion carried out in the meat I mean heat of the moment. This was planned. More like a woman scorned. There will be more of these, I guarantee.

It was probably that thing Carla who works for you, Bridewell said. She’d do something like this. Guy probably stiffed her on the tip.

Would you like to tell her that when she comes back from her assignment? Carole said.

You tell her, Bridewell said. I have to train for my fight with Cockroach, or whatever her name is.

It’s easy to train for a fight with Harper, Carole said. Learn how to operate a wheel chair, and get used to intravenous feeding.

Larsen’s Traveler Inn

Mt. Pisgah Rd.

St. Johnsbury, Vermont

January, 2006

––––––––

What the hell did you do? Harper laughed as the paramedics wheeled Vito towards the ambulance.

Damn heat, Tyrone said, trying not to laugh. Somebody must’ve hit the wrong switch and shut it off in the Dago’s room. 

Y’all done that? Carla exclaimed. It were thirty below last night.

Wasn’t me, Tyrone shrugged. The thermostat in the Dago’s room showed the heat was off. Asshole probably shut it off thinkin’ he were turnin’ it up.

Well, Vito ain’t known for his brains. Boy be about froze solid, Carla giggled.

Grease don’t freeze at that temperature, Tyrone grinned. They’ll thaw his ass out in a hour with them heat blankets they carry, and he will smell as bad as ever.

Probably worse, Harper said. Wait until his armpits thaw out, she giggled.

They watched the ambulance; twenty minutes later, the doors suddenly opened. They pushed Vito out, gurney and all, and sped away.

Boy done stinkified the medics, Carla squealed as Vito waved for help. This be too funny for words. Go get the boy, Shifty.

You go get him! I’m not going out there and freeze my patootie off for him.

Tyrone? Carla said.

Nigger do not like the cold, Tyrone nodded.

Nigger like a bullet in his ass better? Carla said, taking out her Colt. You done this to the boy; now go get his ass, before I shoot you in yours.

Yes Ma’am, Tyrone said. He grabbed his coat and ran outside.

Two hours later, Vito shuffled into the office, a gun in his hand.

Whoa, now, Honky! Tyrone exclaimed. Why the piece?

Youse turned off my heat, you nigger bastard, Vito scowled. That’s attemptitated murder. I’m gonna save this shit hole state the price of a trial.

Carla ran in behind Vito and grabbed the gun.

What in hell is wrong with you, boy? she yelled. You gonna shoot the son of a bitch because the dang heat went out?

Damn right I am, Vito said. That spade done that on purpose.

I’ll do it; then y’all lie to the coppers and tell ‘em the nigger pulled a gun on me, Carla grinned. I am better than you at gettin’ away with shit. She winked at Tyrone as she switched guns behind Vito’s back.

Okay, Vito grinned. Youse waste him, Popsicle Patty.

Say your prayers, nigger, Carla grinned at Tyrone. You are going to the big rib joint in the sky.

No! Tyrone yelled. Don’t shoot me!

There was a loud roar from Carla’s gun; Tyrone rocketed backwards, a huge red stain on his white shirt. He went down; Carla walked behind the counter and fired again. That’ll teach his nigger ass to try to kill cops, she grinned. Y’all seen what happened; go back to your room, Vito. I will get Shifty and clean this up.

Vito left, and Tyrone jumped to his feet. This shit better wash out, he grumbled. This be a good shirt.

Go shop lift another one, Carla shrugged. I arrested a brother in Stratford comin’ out of a clothes store. Boy had about six different outfits on.

I do not shop lift, Tyrone said. You think the Dago went for it? he grinned.

Carole sold the boy his own necktie one time. What do you think? We are goin’ to the Cattle Call Club tonight. Anders been cloned, and he likes to hide out up here.

Cloned? How you know if you got the right one? Tyrone said.

Don’t rightly care, Carla said. We will just keep shootin’ ‘em til there ain’t no more. We got the documents, near as I can tell they made five Anders and one Hitler. We neutralized one, so that leaves four plus the o-riginal.

Hitler? Tyrone shrieked. The man does not like brothers.

We un-brothered his ass, Carla grinned. We got to find his whacky juice, or whatever they took from the boy, so they can’t make no more.

They probably took samples from the clones, Tyrone grinned. Their DNA would be the same as his. Think, girl. This could never end.

Y’all just love to ruin  my day, don’t’cha, Carla sighed.

The Cattle Call Club

Main Street

St. Johnsbury, Vermont

January, 2006

––––––––

You keep an eye out for the boy, Carla nodded. I got designs on that stage. I need me some spendin’ money.

Youse gonna strip naked and slobovate all these farmers? Vito grinned.

That is exactly what I had in mind.

Youse ain’t too bright, huh. Anders knows your ass. And your tits, and anything else you got. There ain’t no way you can disguise what you got.

Boy got a point, Carla nodded. My stunning, you ain’t never seen nothin’ like this before beauty is known all over the world. You do it, Shifty.

What? Harper shrieked. I’m not getting naked for a bunch of inbred Vermont assholes.

Made me thirty six hundred dollars when I done it last, Carla grinned.

Where’s the dressing room? Harper giggled.

Stay here, Harelip, Vito said. Youse couldn’t make five bucks with that pancake ass you got.

Oh, you’re real funny, you are, Harper nodded. Care to see what happens to your heat tonight?

Nothin’ is gonna happen. Coo coo wastified that spook.

She didn’t do too good of a job, Harper smiled as Tyrone came in. He walked over to Vito.

Hello, my brother. What up?

Youse two assholes ran a game on me, Vito smiled. Nice. Next time I’ll shoot your nigger ass myself.

Not so, Tommy Salami. You try to turn the heat up last night?

Yeah. What of it?

Turn the damn lights on next time, Dago. You turned the dial all the way, in the wrong direction. You shut your own heat off.

Asshole, Harper snorted. You really are fucking stupid, you know that?

This nigger done that, not me, Vito said. He don’t like Italians.

Who does? Harper smiled. Except all the  prison wardens. And douche bags like Carla, who think Italians all have big dicks.

What did you call me, you flat ass little bastard? You take that back, Carla huffed.

Screw you. It’s true, Harper said.

Oh, a damn poet, Carla nodded. Don’t forget we got us a match coming, too.

Yeah, I know, Harper grinned. And after the match, you’ll be coming to. In a hospital bed."

Oh, girls, Vito smiled. If youse can stop yapping for five seconds and do your job, take a look at table six.

Damn, that be Anders, Carla said. Or one of them bones.

That’s it, Harper said, throwing her hands in the air. I can’t take any more of working with Rain Girl.

Go over there and see if he recognizes y’all, Carla grinned. If he kills your ass, I promise I’ll shoot him.

I got a better idea, Harper said. Watch this. She snuck her Python out and held it