Angelo's Guest

By John E. Mann

Angelo's Guest is John E. Mann's third mystery novel. It reaches back as far as the Korean War and winds its way into the modern day world of Detective Joe Kepper, a top investigator on the Marlboro County Maryland police force. Most of the action takes place in and around Washington DC where high level officials with connections to the DEA decide on new and more lucrative approaches to operate the drug trade. Like all major cities, a drug culture already exists and has no intentions of bowing out and giving in to these new intruders who seek to share what has been their territory for quite some time. There are shootouts between the two factions, attempted murders, entrapment and a bit of romance. Joe Kepper and his assistant, Sam Stevens are pushed to the limit and Joe's dad old friend, Angelo comes to the rescue by insuring the safety of a mysterious witness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 5, 2007
• ISBN: 9781462828647

John E. Mann

John E. Mann is a free-lance writer published in a number of national magazines and newspapers. He has also been honored with several poetic achievement awards. Mr. Mann is a graduate of Park College and holds a Masters Degree from the University of Oklahoma. He has also completed writing courses with Long Ridge Writers Group in West Redding, Connecticut. Mr. Mann is a retired Army officer who has been awarded more than thirty US and foreign decorations. They include The Silver Star, three Legions of Merit, three Bronze Stars and the Distinguished Flying Cross.

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Angelo’s Guest

A Joe Kepper Mystery

John E. Mann

Copyright © 2007 by John E. Mann.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

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 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated first to my mother, Helen Eugenia Mann, who was concerned that I become a cultured person. It is debatable how successful she was. Although we were poor, she made a concerted effort that I learn to appreciate classical music. During my summers with her in Boston, one could walk down Columbus and Massachusetts Avenues and hear wonderful jazz from the sidewalks and never enter a club. (She drew the line here) I still prefer Miles or Charlie. She would drag me to Symphony Hall to hear a different kind of Music. She also insisted that I go with her to hear Adam Clayton Powell speak, and later introduced me to a young lawyer named Ed Brooke, who became the first black senator. She tried but I was a rebellious teen and like most, 1 couldn’t wait to get back to Mather Academy in South Carolina where most of my friends were.

I would also like to dedicate this book to Scott Hamilton Adams, II. Our youngest grandson. Although just over a year old, he has already brought us enough joy to last a lifetime.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I am grateful to four gracious ladies for their support, encouragement, and advice in writing this book. Karen Diegmueller, Janice McLane, Sujata Massey, and Marcia Talley, four leaders in their fields. They couldn’t have been more helpful.

I would also like to thank my wife, Jean Tucker Mann, for her advice, encouragement and editing assistance.

About John E. Mann’s First Novel

THE SEARCH FOR ROSITA is a fascinating tale about a murder in a plush resort in Arizona that takes Joe Kepper to three foreign countries to find the elusive Rosita. The novel is a continuation of a novelette written by the author five years earlier about an armored truck robbery gone bad. The thieves were caught but the money was never restored. Rosita is implicated in this story and again five years later she reappears into Joe Kepper’s life. She is always a step ahead of the law until Kepper, helped by a pretty Dutch free-lance writer and a small town police chief, bring the mystery to a satisfactory conclusion.

PRAISE FOR THE SEARCH FOR ROSITA

A WELL WRITTEN MYSTERY NOVEL

INVOLVING WORLD TRAVEL AND HISTORY.

Karen Gibbs, Co-anchor

WALL STREET WEEK

About, PERIL IN PARKSDALE

PERIL IN PARKSDALE DELVES INTO THE WORLD OF AN ELITE PRIVATE SCHOOL AND THE STUDENTS AND THE FACULTY WHO INHABIT IT. ONLY JOE KEPPER HAS THE COURAGE TO UNCOVER WHAT REALLY HAPPENED IN PARKSDALE. JUST AS ITS AUTHOR, JOHN MANN HAS THE SENSITIVITY AND ORIGINALITY TO CREATE SUCH A FRESH AND INTERESTING MYSTERY NOVEL.

Sujata Massey,

AWARD WINNING MYSTERY NOVELIST

PERIL IN PARKSDALE

SYNOPSIS

Joe Kepper travels to Parksdale, Kansas to find the person who attacked his teenage daughter and left her battered body for dead. The assault against his daughter is only one of many mishaps to keep Kepper’s life in a tailspin. A failed marriage and a hostile relationship with his boss add to his many problems. The Parkdale police do not welcome Kepper with open arms as he offers his assistance. He finds help from an unlikely source when a young and beautiful policewoman comes to his aid. Together they discover the persons who have designs on blowing up a local high school building.

CHAPTER 1

Selena finished packing her bag and began checking the closet and drawers to ensure they hadn’t left anything. The hotel had done an automatic checkout using the impression the clerk had made on the receipt from Jesse’s credit card. She thought about calling for a bellboy but changed her mind and decided she’d better wait. Jesse was in the adjoining room using his cell phone, and she had no idea how long he would be.

Their routine was usually the same. They would drive down for about five days, check in to one of the top hotels overlooking the beach, take in the best clubs and restaurants, and head back to Washington on the fifth day. They had taken the tours of Miami and the surrounding areas on previous visits to include the museums, Joe Robbie Stadium, the Convention Hall, the University of Miami, the waterfront-docking location for all the visiting cruise ships, and all the prominent buildings worth seeing. There wasn’t much about Miami they hadn’t seen. She had suggested Orlando, or Daytona Beach, but Jesse wouldn’t hear of it. It was always Miami. He didn’t have any friends in Miami that she knew of. They were pretty much to themselves the whole time they were there.

She didn’t mind the trips at all. They came up about every three months, which was great as far as she was concerned. It gave her a chance to practice her Spanish and get an all-expense five-day vacation in the best of hotels.

She and Jesse were not that steady as a couple back in Washington. He’d stop by about twice a month and sleep over, and it was always nice to see him. The sex was good, and there were no strings attached on either of their parts. Jesse had never asked her to come over to his place. She had mentioned it once; but he got a bit upset, and she never brought up the subject again. Just like when she had once suggested flying down instead of taking the long drive which also seemed to upset him. It wasn’t a big deal with Selena, since he did most of the driving and treated her with respect, bought her gifts from time to time, and seemed to care about her when they were together.

Selena had gotten to like Jesse a lot in spite of his peculiar habits and unscheduled nocturnal visits. She could do worse. She had her fill of the weirdos she had met at the local DC bars, and the dating scene in the nation’s capital was not the greatest due to the uneven ratio of eligible men.

Sounds from the adjacent room indicated Jesse had completed his call, and approaching footsteps on the hardwood floor were further signs that he was about to join her.

I just asked them to bring up our car from the garage, Sel. If you’re all ready, we can catch the elevator down, Jesse said.

Looks like we’re all set, Jesse. It’s been a good stay. I hate to say good-bye to this nice suite. The view is one of the best we’ve had, Selena said as she got up from the comfortable chaise lounge where she was sitting. I started to call for a bellboy, but we really don’t need any help with our rolling bags. They have put joy into traveling.

They didn’t have to wait long for an elevator. In the lobby, there was the usual buzz with employees going about their various duties, guests coming and going, checking in and checking out. Jesse turned in their plastic keycards, and they headed for the door where a bellhop was waiting with the keys to their car. He quickly took their bags and whisked them over to their car, where he opened the trunk and neatly stored them away. Jesse tipped the bellboy, and they were on their way.

*   *   *

The following day, shortly after crossing the state line into North Carolina, Selena and Jesse stopped for gas at a Shell station with an adjacent restaurant. Only a few patrons were still lingering over coffee, and a waitress was on duty. They took a table near the window and began to pore over the menu. The waitress brought them water; and as she stood over them, it was apparent she was a pretty girl—blonde, well developed with a syrupy voice.

Hello, I’m Janie. Ya’ll need more time? she said.

Janie, I think I know what I want. I’ll take the burger with everything—fries and a Coke, Jesse said, looking Janie over as if she too were on the menu.

Selena couldn’t help but notice Jesse eyeing the well-developed waitress from head to toe. She remained calm as she gave her order. I’ll take the same without the fries, Selena said in a frosty sort of way.

Thank yew, Janie said as she wrote down the orders on her pad and flounced her way toward the double doors leading to the kitchen.

That was downright disrespectful, Selena said.

What?

You know. I saw you undressing her with your eyes.

I don’t know how you could say that. We’ve been on the beach for five days; and I’ve been looking at near-nude women all week long, and you’re accusing me of flirting?

This was different. Your tongue was hanging out nearly all the way down to your belt buckle.

Sel, you’ve got no rig—

Selena picked up her napkin and threw it across the table, hitting Jesse in the chest. He threw up both hands, expecting the napkin to hit him in the face.

Dammit, don’t you tell me what rights I have as long as you’re with me. I’m neither your doormat nor your whore. When we’re together, I want to be treated with respect.

A couple on the far side of the room looked their way as the slight raising of Selena’s voice and the napkin toss caught their attention. Janie returned from the kitchen and began busying herself with her duties behind the counter. Not wanting to create a scene, Selena crossed her arms and looked daggers across the table at Jesse, as he busied himself investigating every aspect of the menu including the seniors’ portions.

Somehow, they got through the meal with few words being passed between them. Janie checked back to fill their water glasses, and Selena peeked over the latest copy of USA Today to see Jesse’s eyes as she left to go check with the couple across the room. Jesse looked up to see Selena looking at him, but this time his eyes did not follow Janie; but instead, he examined his glass of water and took a sip. As they left heading out to the parking lot, Jesse suddenly stopped.

Wait up a minute, uh . . . take the keys; I left my cap in the booth. He whirled around and headed back inside the restaurant. A few minutes later, he returned wearing his precious cap with the Nike Just Do It logo, and they moved smoothly back to I-95 north, integrating themselves into the swiftly moving interstate traffic. For a while, neither said a word, and then Selena broke the silence.

You just had to go back and get her phone number, didn’t you? Selena said, eyeing Jesse suspiciously to get a good look at his reaction.

What . . . ? Jesse said, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What phone number?

Don’t lie to me, Jesse. You’ve got the hots for that waitress, and it shows on your face just as plain as day. I told you, I’m not your doormat. We’ve been hanging out long enough for me to know when you’re lying or not. Don’t give me that crap about going back after your cap. You deliberately left your cap inside the restaurant so you could go back and get her phone number. I know you, Jesse Romano. You’ve used me, and now you’re ready to move on.

From the look on his face, Jesse was beginning to get a little miffed. He had been on the defensive, but now he began to raise his voice and gain control of the situation.

Don’t try to pull a guilt trip on me, Sel. I’ve been damn good to you. I buy you things, I take you on vacations, I take you . . .

Selena’s face began to fume. She had gotten past the point of being pissed at Jesse. She became enraged. Jesse, you are full of s—. You come by to see me when you want sex. Where are you the rest of the week? Not a phone call, not a compliment to say how well you liked it; no nothing until the next time you want something. You want me to put my life on hold for that? You’re using me, Jesse. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve used me for the last time. Get yourself another doormat!

OK, babe, if that’s the way you want it; I’ll pull over at the next rest stop, and you can hitchhike your way back to Washington. I don’t have to take your s—!

Selena extended her arm as far as her seat belt would allow her and hit Jesse squarely on the side of his face. Taken by surprise, Jesse was stunned by the force of the blow; and his hands slipped from the steering wheel, and the car began to wobble out of control into another lane. A car approaching from behind had to swerve in order to avoid hitting them. Realizing what she had done, Selena tried to steady the car while Jesse recovered from the blow. His right foot had come off the accelerator, and their car was beginning to slow. Cars behind them began to blow their horns, and there was a series of screeching tires. The siren of a police cruiser coming up behind them began to whine. Recovering from the blow and regaining his wits about him, Jesse moved back into the flow of traffic, gave a signal to move into the right lane, and slowed down; and after finding a safe location to stop, he brought the vehicle to a halt.

Damn! See what you’ve done. Now I’m in trouble for reckless driving. I don’t need this s—.

Jesse fumbled in his wallet for his driving license, all the while mumbling to himself and disgusted at the whole turn of events. Selena just sat with her arms folded in silence as if to say, Serves you right. The North Carolina state patrol officer appeared to be not in a hurry to approach them. He seemed to be on his radio. Selena assumed he was giving information regarding the make and model of their car, license number, and other pertinent information. He got out of his cruiser and opened the rear door, letting his partner, a German shepherd dog, join them. Finally, he approached the driver’s side of Jesse’s car, peered in. His partner began to circle the car, stopping in the rear near the trunk.

A busy interstate highway with fast-moving traffic is no place to have a fight, folks. You’re not only endangering your own lives but the lives of other motorists back there. May I see your driving license and registration, sir?

Jesse, license in hand, did as he was told. Selena watched the proceedings. The officer checked both items.

Who is Ralph Trapuzzi? the officer asked, eyeing Jesse suspiciously.

Ralph’s a friend of mine. I borrow his car from time to time, Jesse said.

Just then, the German shepherd began to whimper and then barked. The officer reached for his revolver and said, I’m afraid I’m going to ask you both to step out of the car and put your hands in the air; you first, ma’am and come around to this side and lay your hands on top of the car.

Realizing that this was no ordinary traffic stop, Selena did as she was told. You’re next, sir, the patrolman said.

What’s . . . what’s going on, officer? I don’t understand, a surprised Jesse said.

Just do as you are told, sir. You’ll be told what is going on in due time, the officer said.

A disgusted Jesse followed the instructions. The dog was still near the trunk of the car, sitting in place. The officer shook Jesse down, as he was spread-eagle with his hand on the car with legs back and in a leaning position. He asked Selena to turn around giving her a visual check. That done, he ordered Selena to put the handcuffs on Jesse with his hands behind his back. Having observed that, the officer took out a second set of handcuffs and ordered Selena to put her hands behind her back. He put his revolver back in its holster and cuffed Selena securely and then checked the job she had done on Jesse’s handcuffs. He cuffed Jesse another notch, making them tighter. Finally, he ordered the duo to move away from their car and wait.

Yeah, this is Crawford, car 114, still at the location I’d given you previously on I-95 north. Missy is a bit suspicious of them, and she is seldom wrong. I’ve got the couple cuffed and under control, but I’m going to need some backup prior to searching the car. Find out if the captain wants it brought in; if so, we’ll need another driver. OK, I’ll standby.

After a short wait, the officer walked back over to the disgusted couple, who seemed unhappy with each other because of the delay and the embarrassment.

You going to let us go, officer? I’ll pay the fine or whatever. We’ve both got to get back to Washington. We’ve got jobs to go to tomorrow, Jesse said.

I’m afraid we’re going to have to do a search of your car, sir. My partner, Missy, here seems to think you’re carrying some unauthorized substances with you in that trunk, and we’re going to have to give it a thorough inspection. I’m going to have to read you your rights, and you’d better hope that Missy is wrong because depending on the amount we find, you both could be in a heap of trouble.

CHAPTER 2

While Patrolman Crawford was calling to headquarters to arrange for backup, Jesse and Selena stood handcuffed over at the side of their car. Selena figured Jesse was embarrassed because he had been caught flirting and even more so now that he had been stopped by the police in another state and was not sure what the outcome would be, resulting from his arrest. She suspected it was beginning to make him angry. The way he paced back and forth alongside the car, his head down and that hangdog look. They were supposed to be reporting back to work in a couple of days, but would these crazy cops try to keep them here in North Carolina? She was beginning to get concerned about Jesse so she decided to start a conversation with him.

I know I was wrong in hitting you, Jesse, and that caused the reckless driving charge; but what’s with the handcuffs and the dog sniffing at the back of the car? Selena asked. Tell me; are you carrying drugs back there?

Hell, no! You know I don’t do drugs. I don’t know why they’re treating us like this anyway. I’m clean. I’ve never done drugs in my life, Jesse said.

Yes, but are you carrying drugs for someone else? That’s the question.

How can you say that? I’ve been with you ever since we left DC. You know that. I don’t know nothin’ about no drugs, Jesse said, turning around and looking at her directly.

Selena was skeptical. She’d read about police dogs and how they sniff and can detect drugs and people carrying drugs. She knew Jesse and most of his faults. He smoked cigarettes, and she never knew him to have more than one or two drinks when they went out. As clean-cut as he seemed to be, there was a very mysterious side of him. At first she thought he might be married because of the weird unscheduled visits and because he had never asked her to visit him. He didn’t give her a home phone number, and she wasn’t sure what kind of work he did. He rarely called, except when he was coming over, and she knew nothing about his family. Jesse was sort of an enigma.

On the other hand, he treated her well, especially when they went on trips; she liked the way he made love, drove a car—and he was fun to be with. But there was little else to share.

The late-model Acura they were using was not Jesse’s. He said he had borrowed it from a friend. The car he used to take her out on dates was an eight-year-old Taurus. Jesse said he doubted whether his Taurus could take the beating it took to get to southern Florida and back, which made her believe in his honesty. Selena weighed his good points and his bad. She came to the conclusion she didn’t really know Jesse. She wondered what he had gotten himself into, and would she be looked upon as a part of the trouble he could be in? If he was in trouble with the law, she could very well be held as an accessory.

*   *   *

Another police cruiser pulled up in front of them. Two officers got out and walked back to where Officer Crawford was filling out a report of the arrest. The short officer looked a bit older, wore two stripes on his arm, and appeared to be in charge.

Hi, Bobby, understand you need some help. What have you got here? the short officer said.

Sure thing, Corporal Wells, Officer Crawford said. Had a little fight going on while moving along at sixty-five miles per hour, causing the car to shift between lanes and nearly causing an accident. It appears the young lady was mad as hell about something. Her name is Selena Valdez. The driver is Jesse Romano, and I guess he was trying to defend himself. I’ll need some help in verifying whether Mr. Trapuzzi loaned his car to this gentleman. We need to be sure the car isn’t stolen. I’m writing Jesse up for reckless driving but thought we’d better hold them while we get a thorough check of that trunk. Missy has been sniffing around, and she seems to think there’s something in there we should look at, and she’s seldom wrong, Officer Crawford said.

Jesse and Selena had moved over close enough to listen in on the conversation between the officers. Jesse spoke up, There’s nothing in there; I keep telling you.

May we have permission to search your car, Mr. Romano? Officer Crawford said.

Sure, go ahead, Jesse said, apparently ready to accept his ticket and get on with it. Officer Crawford handed the keys to Corporal Wells, who moved over to Jesse’s Acura and unlocked the trunk.

The two officers began removing a few loose items on top of the suitcases and then the two heavy bags. They left wrenches, the jack and handle, a first aid kit, two reflectors, and a kneeling pad used for tire changing. Missy attentively watched the procedure as an interested bystander like everyone else. Finding nothing of substance, one of the officers went over to his cruiser and brought back a blanket and laid it on the ground as they proceeded to take items from one bag piece by piece until it was empty. Finding nothing other than personal items of clothing and a few souvenirs, they continued the same procedure with the other bag. Nothing.

Sorry, Bobby, there’s nothing unlawful in the trunk. The same goes for the bags. Where’s your handbag, young lady? Corporal Wells asked.

It’s inside our car, Selena said glumly.

Corporal Wells found the handbag in the backseat, brought it back, and began to empty Selena’s bag, which looked as if it contained everything except the kitchen sink. As the officer proceeded with the inspection of the bag, Missy jumped into the now-empty trunk and began sniffing around. All three troopers stopped to watch. She began making growling noises as she moved from corner to corner a bit excitedly. It was as if she were saying, I know there’s something illegal in here; why can’t you humans figure it out?

We obviously missed something, Officer Crawford said. I think we’d better take the car in and let the experts look it over.

Corporal Wells nodded. His partner, whose nametag identified him as Decker, said, "I agree; they’ve got all the tools and scientific know-how to determine whether your partner’s hunch is correct. If no drugs are found, we’ve got no grounds to hold