Joe Klein, Detective: From Brawn to Brains

By David Creighton

Based on the number of detective shows on TV, it appears that many people are fascinated by murder. Joe Klein, Detective is a compilation of short stories showing Joe Kleins progress from rough-and-tumble SWAT team member to becoming a paraplegic and evolving into a thinking detective.

Each of the murders, or the method Joe uses to solve the murder, is different. Hes aided in several stories by his live-in girlfriend, Claire, a professor of antiquities and ancient history at Fresno State. A number of the stories start out with no discernible clue, but either Joe or Claire finds a way. Sometimes based on logic and dogged police work, others, recent discoveries in biology and science.

Most of the stories concentrate more on the solution to the crime than they do on the crimes commission. Even though this is an anthology of short stories, you can see the characters develop as the stories progress.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Jul 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504334204

David Creighton

David Creighton was the author of several books, including Losing the Empress(Dundurn), about the sinking of the Empress of Ireland, a book that led to his role in Robert Ballard's PBS documentary Lost Liners. He liked to travel luggage-free, staying in offbeat places like Amsterdam's Hotel Brian, but otherwise lived with his wife, Judy, in Burlington, Ontario. David Creighton is deceased.

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Copyright © 2015 David Creighton.

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ISBN: 978-1-5043-3419-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-3421-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-3420-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015909449

Balboa Press rev. date: 07/08/2015

CONTENTS

Introduction To Joe Klein

Acknowledgements

Joe Klein Mystery Characters

The Bullet – It Begins

Joe Evolves

Sleuthing From A Front Row Seat

Green Beans Can Kill You

Sparkling Diamonds

The Perfect Murder

Fish Monster

Word Power

A Question Of Innocence

Gravitational Ice

Good To The Last Drop – Not!

God’s Command

Prosopagnosia

Don’t Cry Over Spilled Ashes

INTRODUCTION TO JOE KLEIN

I had a lot of fun writing these Joe Klein mysteries, and I hope you have as much fun reading them. I have tried to base each murder, or the solution, on a realistic premise. I’ve also tried to make each one different.

The character, Joe Klein, is a composite – 50 percent real life people and 50 percent a figment of my imagination. I’m not quite sure I know why I made him a paraplegic, but I believe the mind is stronger than the body. Joe had been quite physical as a cop and now has to overcome his impairment and use his brain. Growing up I enjoyed Sherlock Holmes and Nero Wolfe and their use of ratiocination (the process of rational reasoning), and have tried to use this methodology wherever possible. Most of the science used in the stories has come from articles in Discover Magazine and Scientific American.

Some of the stories take place in Fresno, California, where I live. For those who know the city, I’ve tried to be accurate about streets and locales. Other stories are based on places I’ve visited. I’ve found the Internet to be a tremendous research tool, and relied on it many times to help where memory has failed.

Joe leads a fairly normal life, but he doesn’t do anything I haven’t seen a paraplegic do. I don’t think Joe would want us to feel sorry for him. In fact, Joe probably wasn’t the nicest guy before his accident, but since then he’s turned into a pretty decent human being. Is Joe my alter ego? Yeah, parts of him. Since I have to come up with the way he solves the crimes, I like to think I’m almost as smart as he is.

How about his girlfriend, Claire? Is she my dream girl? Well, she’s smart, good looking and seems very capable, but I married my dream girl more than 53 years ago and am quite happy. As the stories progress, Claire becomes more involved. She and Joe become a real team. Also, Joe’s mother becomes a player of some of the stories. At first she’s just a domineering parent but, in later stories, she takes a more active role. In two of the stories Joe’s mother becomes the detective, along with her friend, Rachel.

Originally all of these stories were written to stand alone. As a result, sometimes there is some repetition about Joe’s condition and descriptions of other main characters. I have tried to leave in only that which is essential to understanding the story.

Where do I get my ideas? A variety of sources. Some come from reading. I enjoy physics, biology and cosmology, although I was not a very good science student in school. I find the natural world amazing, with many secrets which can be woven into a plot.

David Creighton

2015

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to acknowledge people who have helped me.

First and foremost is my wife, Joan, who not only helps me with grammar and punctuation, but questions me when the story doesn’t sound logical to her. Sometimes her critiques bug me, but I really appreciate them once I get off my ego trip.

One of my biggest fans has also been one who has done the most critiquing, my pal from high school, Bruce Tupper and his wife, Karol, a retired copy editor. Bruce isn’t afraid to tell me when he doesn’t like a story or thinks I should add/subtract part of it, and he doesn’t get upset if I don’t always agree with him.

I also want to thank La Nore Lanter, former teacher at Clovis Adult School. She tried to grind the basics of good short story writing into me for more than five years. Thanks, also, to Janice Stevens, another teacher who had to put up with me at Clovis Adult School. She gave me lots of encouragement. Also, a big thanks to Joan Newcomb. After Clovis Unified lost funding for our class, she continued as our teacher without pay and only an occasional thank you.

Lastly, I want to thank my fellow creative writing classmates who have listened patiently to my stories, critiqued my work, and made many helpful suggestions. I particularly want to thank Jerry Fisher (who recently died at the age of 92), one of my fellow writers, who reviewed the Joe Klein stories and came up with some great suggestions.

David Creighton

2015

JOE KLEIN MYSTERY CHARACTERS

Joe Klein

34 years old, 5'11', 210 pounds, ruddy complexion, black hair, member of Fresno City Police force for 12 years. Finished high school with average grades and took enough courses at Fresno City College to get into the Police Academy.

Yeah, I was a hard-nosed cop. Nothing I liked better than mixing it up with the crud of society. I was always glad when a suspect resisted arrest, then I could get down and dirty. I got close to the line a few times, but I don’t think I went over. I’m not real big, almost 6’, but sort of thick. Partly because I work out a lot. But always loved lifting weights and practicing martial arts.

Volunteered for every special force team the police department had. I particularly liked SWAT. It really got the juices flowing, but was hard on my life. Most SWAT activities take place at night or early morning. I mean really early, usually 3:00 to 5:00 a.m. I’d get off duty, the sun’s coming up, and the adrenaline’s still flowing. Couldn’t sleep, so a couple of us would go over to one of the bars in Fresno’s China Town that opened at 6 a.m. The place would be filled with scum and alkies. We’d know half the patrons. Hell, we’d arrested them before. The owner would ask us not to come because it scared off some of his paying customers, but screw that, it’s a free country.

Of course we were looking for sex, but our girlfriends were all at work by then. Yeah, there were some scuzzy broads at the bar but, man, you didn’t know what you’d get.

I enjoyed living on the edge, but it all ended with a bang. You’ll read about it in the first story. Three things saved me: I could still get it on, my girlfriend Claire didn’t leave me, and the chief gave me a chance to do some detective work using my brain. Actually found out I had one.

Things have changed. I’ve gone back to college. Can you believe that, this macho guy gettin’ some book larnin’ at Fresno State?

Eddie Ramirez, my ex-partner, has been promoted to Chief Detective. Hell, I didn’t think that greaser’ed make it through the academy, and here he is heading up a department. You think I’m prejudiced because I called him a greaser? You don’t understand. We were partners for more than five years. Couldn’t ask for a better man. I’d trust him with my life. In fact, I did.

But the biggest change has been my relationship with Claire.

Claire Furman

She’s a looker. A tall willowy blond with a body that would make J-Lo jealous. Oh yeah, and smarter than hell. Claire’s got a PhD in Antiquities and Ancient History. Before the shooting, our relationship was purely physical. Some of the greatest sex I’d ever had, but we weren’t getting along so good in other departments. In fact, I think our co-habitation was about to end. Seems sort of weird for a girl so smart to shack up with a cop, but who am I to complain. Still can’t figure out why she took up with me. She’s on a tenure track at Fresno State and loves the classroom.

Since the accident, the sex is still good, but our relationship has changed – actually for the better. I think I was afraid to let anyone get close. The disability has sort of broken down that barrier. I’ve never gotten so involved with another person. In fact, I found I cared so much about Claire I asked her to marry me. We’re engaged, but she’s the one who doesn’t seem to want to get married. Says tying the knot’s so final and would change the dynamics of our relationship. My mother doesn’t approve of Claire, or our living together. Still she keeps saying she wants grandchildren.

Claire wasn’t interested in my detective work at first, but then she saw it was a lot like the sleuthing she did in history; trying to figure who did what to whom and why, way back then. She’s helped me on a number of cases. Hell, I’ll be honest, she solved them. We’re a team now, and Eddie even deputized her so we can both work with the evidence.

Eddie Ramirez

As I said, we were partners for five years. Didn’t get along so good at first, but we worked it out. Eddie was raised in southeast Fresno. How he missed becoming a gangbanger, I’ll never know. Eddie went to Fresno City College and the Police Academy. Everyone thinks I’m prejudiced, but I grew up on a farm near Fresno. I know there are good Mexicans and bad Mexicans, just like us gringos.

When Eddie and I were made partners, we got into each other’s face pretty good. Even went to the gym a couple of times to fight it out. I was stronger, but Eddie was quicker. It mostly turned into a draw, and before we knew it, we became best friends. I used to spend most Christmases at his house, buying presents for, and playing with, his kids. I’m proud of Eddie.

He worked hard and deserved the promotion, but I’m not about to let him know it. I keep telling him he’s nothing but a spic and a loser. He calls me a fucking gringo, puedo or anything else he can think of to insult me. We both love it. Hell, when another Mexican on the force heard one of our arguments, he turned me in for racial slurs. When the chief talked to Eddie, he let Ben know how it was between us. The whole thing got dropped.

I’m glad Eddie made Chief Detective, but I’m still going to kid him. I keep asking him how they let a worthless, lazy Mexican head up a department. As a team, we had a great case closure rate, and he saved my ass in a number of tight situations. Yeah, I probably owe him more than he owes me, but no one else better kid about his racial background.

Ben Styles

Ben’s not a bad guy. We were partners for several years early in my career, but he was very ambitious and worked his way up through the department. He was appointed Chief of Police a couple of years ago, but he knows and understands what cops go through every day. The only problem, he’s looking at things from the top down now. What a crappy job. Has to run the department and keep the city safe while the City Council’s always on him about something. How come we don’t have this case solved? Why did this cop whale on a creep? Why does it cost so much to run the department? On and on, every council meeting they’ve got something new to complain about.

I wouldn’t want his job for any amount of money, but he sure saved my ass when he offered me that first case after the accident. If he hadn’t, I might have committed suicide. He always complains about my bonus, but I think he knows I’ve given him some righteous collars he might not have gotten otherwise. Probably helped keep the overtime budget down as well.

He’s a solid guy. Makes it easier to talk to him. It’s just that he has this shitty administrative job.

Isabel Klein

Yeah, that’s my mom. She’s a piece of work. Knows every psychological trick in the book. I’d love to see her go up against one of those smarty pants, nose in the air, stuck-up psychiatrists. She’d eat his lunch. He’d be in therapy for years trying to figure out what psychosis hit him.

Dad died in a car accident a few years back, and Mom has too much time and energy on her hands. She still tries to play her little psychological games with me. When I call her on it, she just laughs. There’s nothing wrong with her mind. Both my parents were smart. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to become a dumb macho cop.

Since my father died, Mom’s been very restless and pries into my work whenever she can. She’s even helped with a couple of cases, which galls me, and never lets me forget it. She met her friend Rachel at a church social, bingo or something like that.

Rachel O’Reilley

Rachel’s pretty neat for someone in her fifties. She’s this buxom blond who’s got a pretty good rack on her. Her husband got killed in a car accident. She plays the dumb blond sometimes, but I know different. Maybe she thinks it will make men not be afraid of her. I met her when a looney psychiatrist tried to set her up for murder.

She and Mom are pretty good friends. I guess it’s because she doesn’t mind letting Mom take the lead, but I think she can hold her own. Actually, I’m glad Mom has her for a friend. Keeps Mom out of my hair.

THE BULLET – IT BEGINS

Joe, get in here! Fresno City Chief of Police Ben Styles yelled through his open office door as Joe Klein walked by.

Whadda ya want, Chief?

Give me your weapon and badge!

Wha … what’s this all about?

I’ve warned you twice before, and this time you’ve gotten us into a friggin’ lawsuit!

Hey! What’s the beef?

Remember that chase you and Eddie were involved in?

Yeah, what about it?

You smashed your patrol car into the speeder at fifty miles an hour. It crushed his femur, gave him severe back injuries, and now he claims you were out to get him because he’s Chicano. You’re appearing before the IAB this afternoon, and you’re assigned desk duty until further notice.

Geez, boss, I’ll go stir crazy!

Then I suggest you take out your aggression in the gym. The chief’s face turned red. Dismissed!

That afternoon Joe and Eddie appeared before the Internal Affairs Board. Addressing Joe, the chairman requested, Officer Klein, in your own words, please explain what happened during the car chase on September 17, 2002.

Eddie and I were on a stakeout in an unmarked car. We got a call from the dispatcher asking us to assist with a speeding car. Our position was somewhat ahead of the chase. We positioned ourselves at a cross street, and I parked at the curb on the corner, waiting. Eddie looked down the street. About a half block away, he saw a school zone. Classes were over, and mothers and kids were crossing the street. The chase was coming up. I looked to my left. All of a sudden, I saw a guy in a Honda Civic come over a slight rise doing at least fifty. A patrol car with lights and siren was in pursuit. Suddenly I realized the Honda wouldn’t be able to stop before the school crosswalk. I gunned the unmarked, and nudged the Honda into a parked auto. The Honda went into a spin and came to a stop just fifty feet from the kids. Eddie and I jumped out, weapons drawn, and arrested the guys in the car. The guy in the passenger seat got a broken leg. Eddie went back to our vehicle and called for an ambulance.

You sure you didn’t just want some excitement? another member of the board asked.

Hell no! We could see kids crossing the street down the block.

The chairman broke in again, You sure you didn’t hit the Honda because it was driven by a Mexican?

What? You kidding? It had tinted windows and came by so fast I didn’t have a clue who was driving.

The chairman scanned the file in front of him. This isn’t your first time in front of this board. You’ve had warnings and suspensions for roughing up collars.

Joe started getting angry. These guys aren’t angels out there. I know the rules, and maybe I get close to the edge, but I try not to cross over.

I think maybe you did this time.

What about the guys in the Honda? They had weapons and a load of meth in the car. I think we did the right thing. How come you keep backing the bad guys?

Watch your mouth. You aren’t helping yourself here.

Joe left the witness stand. Eddie’s testimony backed Joe’s 100 percent.

A week later, Joe was called into Chief Styles’s office again.

Here’s your gun and badge. The IAB ruled in your favor, but they think you have an attitude problem. I don’t know, Joe, you’ve done some great work for the department, but sometimes I think you’re too much of a cowboy. You almost crossed the line in that drug bust a couple of months ago when you smashed the perp’s head against the wall because he wouldn’t get on the floor. You seem angry all the time, and you take that anger out on the criminals. It’s going to get you into serious trouble one of these days.

Hell, yes, I’m angry! These scumbags are the dregs of society. They hurt innocent people and cost taxpayers millions of dollars. The laws seem more on their side than ours. We’ve got activist judges who want to pat them on the head and tell them to just be nice little boys and girls, and juries who are convinced it’s not their fault they had a rotten childhood. I remember you had a little anger too when we were partnered up.

I can’t deny it, but there have to be limits, or we lose our effectiveness and the trust of the citizens.

Hey, boss, ain’t that what lines are for? You can go up to them as long as you don’t cross?

The chief stood up and pointed a finger at Joe. You keep getting too close, and one day you’re going to get burned! He leaned over, placing his hands on the desk so he was almost in Joe’s face. The board cleared you with the proviso that you get anger management training. I’ve signed you up for a two-week course, and you’re going to attend. You and I may have started on the beat together, and I consider you a friend, but screw up one more time, and I’m taking disciplinary action.

Damn it, Ben, you want me to let a bunch of shrinks play with my head? Those guys don’t know what we have to face every day. All they know is a bunch of fancy words and half-assed theories, and they talk in psychobabble.

Just cool it, and that’s an order. Ben smiled, Now get your ass out of here!

Reluctantly, Joe attended the training. He wasn’t exactly the star pupil, but he made it through. Three days after getting back on active duty, Joe got a call from his partner, Eddie Ramirez. Hey Joe, can I ask a favor?

What?

"I’m supposed to go out on a meth bust tonight, but my kids are in a school play and Maria is squeezing my huevos about working."

Well, I had a few plans for tonight, but let me see what I can do.

Eddie knew he had him and, before Joe could come up with an excuse, said, Man, I really appreciate it. Owe you one. Joe started to answer, but the phone was already dead.

It was after 2:00 a.m. when the SWAT unit drove into southeast Fresno. The methamphetamine lab was in a residential neighborhood. This was the worst of situations for the cops. There were innocent people on all sides, and street talk had it a local Bulldog gang was providing security for the lab. It was also known that kids lived in the house. The cops knew the gangbangers would be armed, but needed to be careful about shooting around the kids. Besides, meth labs are highly explosive, and the chemicals are both toxic and corrosive. This had to be a surgical strike.

The team had a no-knock search warrant. The plan was for two officers to go around the back, while the rest entered through the front door. The whole team was dressed in black and wore helmets and flak jackets. Joe and his partner were assigned to enter from the rear. A couple of minutes after getting into position, they heard the sergeant yell, Fresno Police! We have a warrant! followed by a battering ram hitting the front door.

Joe and his partner kicked in the back door and entered the house, weapons drawn. Joe saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Fearful that it might be a child, he hesitated for a fraction of a second. A man crouching next to the clothes dryer rose up and before Joe could bring his gun to bear, the gangbanger got off a shot. The bullet penetrated just below the flak jacket, hitting Joe in the abdomen. Joe fired as he went down and caught the guy in the left shoulder. His partner, who had followed him into the room, got a head shot, and the gangbanger would never shoot again.

Joe lay on the floor. As his partner leaned over him, they could hear more shots in another part of the house.

Joe, you ok? Where does it hurt?

It doesn’t.

Whadda ya mean? You just got shot.

I can’t feel anything.

Move your feet.

I can’t. It’s like they aren’t there anymore.

Don’t move! I’m calling an ambulance!

The noise in the other rooms had subsided, except for a child crying and saying over and over, Mommy, mommy, talk to me! There was no response.

Within minutes, the ambulance arrived. Before placing him on a backboard, the EMTs carefully fitted Joe with a neck collar. An hour later, he was in surgery.

Someone at the station called Eddie at home who, in turn, called Claire Furman, Joe’s live-in girlfriend. Both arrived at the hospital at the same time as Chief Styles.

Approaching the nurse behind the counter, the chief inquired, Have you heard anything yet?

No, it may be another couple of hours.

The three sat down in the waiting room and started their