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Lunatic
Lunatic
Lunatic
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Lunatic

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Another murderer camps out in Stratford, and Carla has to find him before he finds her. Lots of action, wrestling, and humor. Several story lines from previous editions continue to be pursued.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 30, 2021
ISBN9781393629290
Lunatic

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    Lunatic - charles fisher

    Lunatic

    Pray you die before I find you.

    Dedicated to the Memory of my Dear friend Donna J Melito, who I graduated from High School with. She encouraged me to use her real name in my novels. Unfortunately, she passed in January 2020. I will always love you, Donna. You are the best.

    ––––––––

    Stratford Police Department

    Central  Sector Patrol

    Stratford, Connecticut

    April, 2005

    Here comes the Dago, Tracy giggled as she watched Vito turn onto Broadbridge Avenue from Greenfield. A cloud of oil smoke from the Rambler’s tail pipe followed him. Lookit that pollution, she said. Fella is an environmental hazard on wheels.

    That be a federal crime, Margo grinned. Pollutin’ the air like he done. Bad enough he don’t wash his Dago ass; he got to drive that piece of shit and stink the place up twice.

    Not for long, Tracy said as Margo pulled out of the Broadbridge Avenue gas station and pursued Vito. She hit the light bar and siren. Vito flipped Margo the bird and kept going.

    Oh, the Dago wants to play games, Margo smiled. Unit 8904 to Dispatch; we are in pursuit of a runner.

    What the fuck is a runner? Dispatcher Melinda Washington laughed.

    You, ya no good swamp runnin’ nigger bastard, Margo said. It be Vito. He be drivin’ a car what don’t meet the air pollution standards. I tried to pull his Dago ass over, but he flipped me the finger and ran on me.

    What did you call me, you ugly white bitch? Melinda exclaimed. I will kick your Irish booty.

    You’ll try, Margo said. Make sure you got a coffin picked out, Aunt Jemima. Now do yer duty and log this call.

    Margo mashed the accelerator to the floor and slammed into the Rambler with the push bar. It skewed wildly across the road and went into the woods behind the package store. Vito jumped out and started yelling.

    Youse bastards hit my car! What the fuck is wrong with you?

    You’re under arrest, Dago, Tracy grinned. Engaging in Pursuit, Reisitin’ Arrest, and bein’ an asshole in public. Hands on the trunk, fella. Don’t try nothin’ fancy, neither, unless you want to go to the big Pizza Restaurant in the Sky. She held her nose, patted Vito down, and took his weapon. Now, asshole, she grinned as she cuffed him. In the cruiser ya go.

    I don’t got to do nothing you say, Vito said. Youse ain’t in my department.

    I ain’t in your species, Tracy said as she slapped Vito in the back of the head. What did we tell you about drivin’ this hunk of shit in my town, huh, fella?

    There ain’t nothing wrong with my car, Vito scowled.

    Really? Margo said as she opened the door and got into the Rambler. Thing burns oil. That’s a federal air pollution crime. I think you got an engine problem, she grinned. Check that PCV valve, Tracy.

    Prob’ly don’t have one, as old as this tub is, Tracy said as she yanked the Rambler’s hood open as hard as she could. The hinges snapped, and the hood fell against the windshield, shattering it. Boy got a busted windshield, she grinned. She took the oil filler cap off and took a baggie full of metal shavings out of her pocket. Look, Dago! she yelled. Superman! When Vito looked up, Tracy dumped the metal into the engine. She stepped away and nodded at Margo.

    Let’s see if this pile of crap can pass a motor vehicle emissions test, Margo grinned as she stepped on  the accelerator and held it to the floor. The engine revved wildly; smoke billowed from the exhaust. The metal found its way into the crankshaft bearings; a loud knocking started, and the third and fifth connecting rods came loose and blew through the side of the engine block. The engine self destructed and stopped. Failed, it did, Margo shrugged. She put the transmission into neutral and got out.

    Hey! Vito yelled as the Rambler started to roll down the hill towards the river that ran behind the liquor store. My car!

    Uh, oh, Tracy grinned as the Rambler gained speed and went into the river. This be your lucky day, Dago. Now you got to pay to clean up that river, too.

    Perry grabbed Vito by the hair and put him in the cruiser. Go ahead, she grinned. Try to escape. I dare you.

    Youse is gonna do hard time for this, Junior, Vito nodded. And what if I do escape? Youse ain’t even got  a gun.

    I don’t need a gun, Perry said. I have this. She slipped the twelve inch Bowie out of its sheath and held it to Vito’s throat. How far do you think you could get before I bury this in your ass?

    That’ll do, Tracy said as she came over. Put the blade away, the Dago ain’t going no place. Roll down the damn windows, too. Fella stinks somethin’ awful.

    Stratford Police Department

    900 Longbrook Ave.

    Stratford, Connecticut

    April, 2005

    Hi, Carole smiled as the girls shoved Vito into a chair. I’m Chief of Detectives Carole Larsen. This is Captain of Detectives Carla Larsen. No relation, she said.

    Fuck you, Carla muttered.

    What was that, Patrolperson? Carole smiled.

    Nothin’, Carla shrugged as she stuffed tobacco into her cheek and took out her Road Runner  coloring book. She grinned at Vito. Hello, boy. Y’all put your wheezer in the food chopper now.

    Youse douche bags is gonna pay big time for this, Vito nodded. These broads ruinitated my Rambler.

    That’s not the way I see it, Carole smiled as she read Tracy’s report. According to this, you disobeyed an officer’s signal and engaged in pursuit. The officer, that would be Margo the Miserable, chased you down.

    Why don’tcha go hang yerself in the maintenance garage, ya dirty fuckin’ midget, Margo smiled.

    Thanks, Carole said as she took out her notebook. That comment will be considered at your next review.

    Why don’tcha review some lifts for yer shoes, Stubby? Margo leered.

    Why..... don’t..... you.....review..... Carole wrote. How do you spell stubby?"

    Knock it off, Vito said. The real Italian man got work to do. And youse assholes got to pay for my car.

    Au contraire, Senor Stinky, Carole smiled. You committed a bunch of state and federal felonies in my town. You are being held for arraignment. Sorry, she grinned.

    Yeah, yeah, the joke went far enough, Vito said. Like your face. Let me go.

    Who do you think you are; Moses? Carole said as she sat back in her chair and read the report. The way I see it, Mr......Antonelli, is it? You’re in big trouble.

    Yeah, yeah, sure I am, Vito grinned. Youse mentalpause douche bag monsters know who I am.

    Do any of you douche bags, as he refers to you, recognize Mr. Antonelli?

    Not me, Tracy said. Never saw the Dago before.

    Nor I, Perry smiled.

    Not me, Margo said. Just another crooked Wop bastard. Probably a Mafioso.

    Put him in holding, Carole said. Enjoy your Beefaroni and Wonder Bread tonight, Mr. Antonelli.

    No real Guinea eats that, Vito scowled.

    Heard that a time or two, Carla muttered. Boy was proved otherwise. Against his will, too, she grinned.

    Bridgeport Superior Court

    Golden Hill St.

    Bridgeport, Connecticut

    April, 2005

    ––––––––

    State of Connecticut  versus Vito Antonelli, the clerk intoned. Obstruction of Justice, Interfering in a Police Investigation, Making a False Statement Under Oath, Failure to obey a Police Officer’s Signal, Speeding, Engaging in Pursuit, Reckless Driving, Failure to Pass an Emissions Test, Violation of the Clean Air Act, and Destruction of Public Wetlands.

    That’s quite a list, Judge Stevens smiled. I’m impressed. Who represents the State?

    Executive Assistant District Attorney Brenda DiCenzo, Your Honor.

    And for the unfortunate Defendant?

    Yo, I’m like Vinny, Your Honor.

    Vinny? Stevens smiled. Are you a lawyer?

    No, I’m a G-man, Vinny grinned.

    He’s my husband, Brenda sighed. He drives a freaking garbage truck. He ain’t no lawyer.

    Well, Mr. DiCenzo, you may not be aware of how the court works. You cannot represent somebody if you are not a member of the bar.

    Yo, like Judge, I been to a lot of bars. I’m a member in good standing. Most of the time, he shrugged. I can do this. Veet is my Goombah, you know what I’m saying? B taught me about intervention. I got a stake in the outcome of this case. Probably New York Strip, Vinny shrugged. Veet said he’d like buy me dinner if I get him off.

    There is no Motion for Intervention before the court, Stevens smiled. Even if there was, that only applies to additional Defendants. You still can’t practice law without a license.

    I got a license, Vinny said. Class Two. And I don’t need no practice. I been in court a lot of times.

    I bet you have, Stevens smiled. Ms. DiCenzo?

    Let him proceed, Brenda said. My Office will grant him a temporary law license.

    You don’t have that authority, Stevens said.

    He’s like an intravenous, like he said, Brenda snapped. That means he’s like cool as a co-whatever. He can represent himself. If that sort of defends Vito at the same time, like who gives a shit, Brenda smiled.

    Do not swear in my courtroom, Mona Lisa, Stevens said.

    Okay, I’ll go outside next time. Let him do what he wants to do. It is what it is.

    Eeeeee, Stevens said, holding his hands out at his sides. It looks like a Fugazy, you know what I’m saying?

    Now you got it, Brenda nodded. You learned some Italian.

    With the power granted in me by the State of Connecticut, I hereby pronounce you man and wife, Stevens smiled. Yo I’m like Vinny, you may proceed. But you better be careful.

    I’m like always careful, Vinny said. That’s why me and B don’t got no kids. I use them things; you know, he shrugged. You put it on your.....

    That will do. How does your client plead?

    He like didn’t do it, Vinny said.

    Let the record reflect that the Defendant like entered a plea of Not Guilty, Stevens said.

    I didn’t hear no records, Vinny said, looking around. I like Johnny Maestro. He’s the best. He made that song, Sixteen Inches. That’s like an Italian thing, you know what I’m saying?

    I’m sure the record will reflect that, Stevens smiled. I bet my wife would like that, but unfortunately I don’t measure up. Call your first witness, Brenda.

    Call Assistant Chief of Detectives Tracy O’Neil. Tracy was sworn and sat down, her red micro mini dress riding up. What you looking at, fella? she smiled at Stevens. Ain’t never seen legs before?

    Not like that, Stevens said. Didn’t I warn you about dressing like that in my courtroom?

    Yeah, ya did, Tracy grinned. But I didn’t pay no attention. You want to see what else I got up me skirt?

    No, that would be Judicial Misconduct, Stevens smiled.

    You be too old anyway, Tracy said with a wave of her hand as the room laughed. You been a judge since Jesus were in knee pants.

    I’m not as old as you think I am, Stevens smiled. I became a judge when I was ten years old. Examine the witness, Brenda. I know I’d like to.

    You got a better chance of gettin’ a decent meal from your old lady tonight, Tracy nodded.

    Chief O’Neil, were you on duty when the Defendant was apprehended? Brenda said.

    Objection, Vinny said. Nobody apprehended Veet. He don’t go that way. He’s a real Italian man.

    Overruled, Stevens said. It means taken into custody.

    Oh, that, Vinny shrugged. That be cool.

    I was on duty, Tracy said.

    What happened? Brenda said.

    The Dago ran on us, Tracy nodded. Margo hit him with the cruiser, she did. To stop him from injuring the public, of course.

    Yo, like I object to her calling Veet a Dago, Vinny said.

    Sustained. The witness will  not use racial slurs in my court.

    Ain’t no slur if you be a Dago, Tracy muttered. What kind of name be Stevens? she grinned.

    British, descended from the Greek, Stevens smiled. I’m sure you’ll have something to say about that.

    I do not like the Brits at all, Tracy nodded. Greeks be okay, she shrugged. They got good diners.

    Continue, Brenda, Stevens said.

    So, you like chased the Defendant and he engaged in pursuit?

    Yes.

    Ain’t that illegal?

    That’s what the law says, Tracy smiled. You ain’t too bright, are ya, girl? How did ya become a D.A. when you got the IQ of a squirrel?

    I’m smarter than a squirrel, Brenda snapped. Just answer the questions. What did he do next?

    Boy ran off the road after we hit him. Then Lieutenant Wilder conducted an emissions test on his car, Tracy said, trying not to laugh.

    What kind? Brenda said.

    How many kinds you ya think there are, ya dumb Dago? Tracy snapped.

    That will do, Stevens said. Next time you use a racial slur, I will hold you in contempt of court.

    Then ya better sleep with your windows closed at night, Skippy, Tracy nodded. You know me, fella. Do not threaten me. I do not take lightly to that.

    Duly noted, Stevens said. What happened next?

    Fella got him an emissions test and he failed, Tracy shrugged. Car rolled down the hill into the river.

    Nothing further, Brenda said.

    Vinny? Stevens smiled.

    What? Vinny said.

    Your witness. You get to ask questions, Stevens said.

    Oh, that’s like cool, Vinny said. Yo, like Tracy, did youse girls blow up Veet’s engine?

    No, Tracy smiled. During the emissions test, the car’s engine failed.

    Veet said youse done that on porpoise.

    He’s lying, Tracy smiled as Vito fidgeted in his chair. Like all you dumb Guineas lie.

    Fifty dollar fine, Stevens said, banging his gavel. Care to try for more?

    Depends on how much the next one is, Tracy said.

    A week in jail, Stevens smiled.

    Yeah, right, Tracy laughed. Try holdin’ me in some jail and see what happens.

    You like to challenge authority, don’t you, Stevens said.

    I do me duty, Tracy snapped. I put me life on the line every day I do the job. You don’t like the way I do it? Who cares. You sit here in your robe and judge me? You ever ride in a squad car on Stratford Avenue? You ever faced down an armed suspect? Huh, fella? No, you ain’t. I have. You want to lock me up? Go ahead. Get ready for World War Three.

    Next time you say anything like that to me you’ll get six months in jail, Stevens said. You will respect this Court.

    Just ask yer questions, Tracy grumbled.

    Nothing further, Brenda said. Call Lieutenant Margo Wilder.

    Good grief, Stevens sighed. Call the SWAT team.

    Ya shut yer hole, Judgy, Margo nodded as she took the stand. You want to take on the Irish? she leered. I don’t think so.

    She’s all yours, Brenda, Stevens smiled.

    That’s right, Margo nodded. Ain’t no old man in a bathrobe can have the likes of me, she smiled. Even me husband don’t get the Irish Surprise, creep that he is.

    Were you born this miserable, or did you take lessons? Stevens said.

    You want to find out? Margo said. We can make that happen.

    Okay, Brenda sighed. You did the emissions test on the Defendant’s car. How did you do that?

    By the book, Margo said. The book says you increase the engine speed to see if the engine be puttin’ out pollution. It was, she nodded. A lot.

    Then what happened? Brenda said.

    Engine gave out, Margo shrugged. It were an old piece of shit car.

    No profanity in my court, Stevens said. I will not warn you again.

    That mean I can get away with it next time? Margo grinned.

    No, it does not. You and Tracy can share a cell.

    Yeah, right, Margo laughed. You try that one, fella, and see what happens next. We enforce the law, and we don’t take no shit from no Dago just because he got a badge.

    Brenda? Stevens smiled.

    So, like you conducted the test and the car failed. What happened next?

    Parkin’ brake failed, Margo shrugged. The car rolled down the hill into the river.

    All by itself? Stevens said. I find that hard to believe.

    Why don’t ya shut yer big mouth and do yer job? Margo yelled. You ain’t supposed to pick sides. That’s the Defendant’s lawyer’s job.

    She’s right, Brenda nodded. That’s Judicial Misconduct.

    Duly noted, Stevens said. I am just trying to get to the bottom of this.

    I could show the boy how to do that if he weren’t so old, Carla grinned as she made notes in her coloring book.

    Shut up, Slut Puppy, Carole hissed. You got me into this mess.

    Y’all deserve it, you old bastard, Carla huffed. Wile E Coyote says so.

    Is there anything else of value here? Stevens said. It’s almost Beefaroni time.

    The People rest, Brenda said.

    Vinny? Stevens smiled.

    Yo, like Your Honor, the Vinster don’t need to rest. I ain’t like tired.

    That just means Brenda finished her case. Now it’s your turn to call witnesses to defend your client."

    Oh, that’s like cool, Vinny nodded. I don’t got  a phone, though, so I can’t like call anybody, you know what I’m saying?

    I do, Stevens nodded. Brenda taught me how to speak Italian. It is what it is. Your witnesses are supposed to be here in court. Who do you have?

    I got like Carla, Vinny grinned. She can get Vito off.

    Miss Larsen, please take the stand, Stevens smiled. And please cover your legs.

    Y’all can cover what you got under that robe, boy, Carla grinned as she sat down. I bet I  know what it is, too. Pink girly underwear.

    That’s better than what you have, Stevens smiled. Pink underwear beats no underwear.

    I don’t need no underwear, Carla grinned. It don’t stay on that long if I got it. Now I got to testicle agin a damn Eye-talian, with a Eye-talian persuctor and a Eye-talian wish I was a lawyer garbage truck driver.

    You have a point. We will take a fifteen minute recess. Since I am not fluent in Italian, I’m turning this case over to Judge Del Monaco.

    Them is good steaks, Vinny grinned as he elbowed Brenda.

    Shut up, you asshole, Brenda scowled You made enough trouble for me already.

    Shelburne Pond

    Shelburne, Vermont

    April, 2005

    ––––––––

    The killer stood on the redwood deck, facing south towards Shelburne Pond. He was wearing a pair of gum rubber boots and nothing else. It was raining hard now, and he contorted his face into a maniacal rictus of pleasure as the cold water tore at his body and whipped at his thick hair. What pleasure it gave him, he thought as the raging storm smashed at him with all its fury. Above him, the full Moon bathed him in its intermittent eerie light. This was where he got his power and strength; it could never harm him. But it could  harm others, and it always had; through him, of course.

    The killer stared off to the south with no fear of being seen as Brooks & Dunn’s He’s Got You roared from his stereo.  This place was secure and sanctified. He had conducted the ceremony  himself, according to the shaman ritual he had read about in a history book about the Plains Indians. His hands trembled as he gripped the railing, the wildness of the downpour thrashing him and raising goose flesh all over his naked body. Soon, he thought. Soon it would be time.  A new victim was waiting far to the south, where it always happened, and it was his job to perform the removal according to the rules.

    The quest had begun in 1978 with a girl he had loved with all his heart, and she’d had the temerity to reject him. How dare she, after what he had accomplished? She and all the other stuck up girls, moochers that they were, had to pay for their sins.

    Daddy’s little girl! the killer yelled into the storm. Daddy’s perfect little princess. Let’s see how perfect you look when Daddy finds your corpse rotting in the woods!

    Thoughts of torture ripped through his sick mind, and visions of rivers of blood flashed before his eyes on the demented movie screen that now lived in his head. It was almost orgasmic in its intensity. He  found that he couldn't take any more......the anticipation was too great. He put his head back, opened his mouth to the rain, and began to scream.

    Bridgeport Superior Court

    Golden Hill St.

    Bridgeport, Connecticut

    April, 2005

    ––––––––

    All rise, Court is now in session, the Honorable Carmine Del Monaco presiding. State of Connecticut  versus Vito Antonelli, the clerk intoned.

    Yo, like youse can sit down now, Judge Del Monaco smiled.

    Now we’re getting someplace, Vinny nodded. This dude speaks our language. Youse is in the clear, Veet, he grinned.

    Shaddup, stupid, and get me outta here, Vito said.

    Captain Larsen, youse can get back on the stand, you know what I’m saying? Del Monaco said.

    Y’all talk like them Eye-talians, Carla nodded. I request an in-terpreter.

    Yo, is there anybody here who like speaks Rebel and Italian? Del Monaco said.

    I do, Ronnie Lee said. I am the District Attorney for Fairfield County, Ronnie Lee Packard, also known as Katherine Anne Larsen.  I speak Rebel and Eye-talian.

    Then you got the job, Del Monaco said. Youse can interpret for hot legs over here. Come on, Vinster, it’s your show. Do your thing. Don’t take all day, neither. I gotta make the gravy tonight.

    Yo, like Your Honor, this is so cool. Youse understand everything, Vinny said.

    Yeah, yeah, Del Monaco sighed. But youse gotta be right on the law. I ain’t no Fugazy judge, you know what I’m saying?

    Absolute-a-mento, Vinny nodded. He walked over to Carla. Whoa, he said. Youse got to cover up. I can like see your thing. That ain’t right.

    Let the record show that the Defendant’s counsel is referring to Captain Larsen’s private parts, Ronnie Lee said. Also known in Rebel as a Pecker Parlor, Leave it to Beaver, The Wild Snapper, Tastycake, and The Pink Pussy Garage.

    Youse understand the question, Cutie? Del Monaco grinned.

    I do. What’s your problem, Vinny? Carla grinned. You ain’t never seen one of them before?

    Not like recent, Vinny said, eyeing Brenda, who gave him the finger. I been deprivitated of that. B got the curse, and it’s like permanent. She should have bled to death by now.  Never mind me. We got to talk about Veet. What happened on the day youse arrested him?

    I didn’t arrest him, Carla said. Tracy and Margo done that.

    Yo, like you’re the Captain, Vinny smiled. Youse is in charge. Tell the Judge what like went down.

    Ronnie Lee leaned over and whispered into Carla’s ear.

    I weren’t there, A-hole, Carla smiled. I was home hugging the mattress.

    Oh, Vinny shrugged. Then I like rest.

    Whoa! Vito yelled, jumping to his feet. I like object. I wanna testicate on my own behalf. I got rights.

    Only this uomo con brutta faccia can object, Del Monaco said. That’s the law. It is what it is.

    Then youse is fired, Vito said, pointing at Vinny. "Youse is a douche bag and an asshole. I can defendicate myself. I got

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