Blank Slate: Unusual Investigations

By Jack La Shay

Five years ago, Detective Tim OBannon, NYPD, was shot during a robbery. He died on the way to the operating room. Thirty-six minutes later, he woke up as they rolled him into the morgue. Since the bureaucracy didnt know where to assign a dead detective, he was retired on full pension. He felt pretty bummed out until his brothers convinced him to go private. He takes an office above his brothers bar and grille. It is located between the office of Samantha Smith, a beautiful attorney, and Jake Goldstein, a very interesting forensic psychologist. That was the beginning of Unusual Investigations.
She woke up in a hospital. She had bandages on her face, and her mind was a blank slate. The name on her chart was Mary Hill, but it didnt sound familiar. She knew she was American, she knew who the president was, but she knew nothing about Mary Hill. Doctor Connors told her that her mother and father died in a plane crash the same weekend of her assault in Maine. She was the only heir to a billion-dollar company, Hill Pharmaceuticals. A nice-looking man came to see her and said he was her husband. He talked and talked about who she was and their relationship. When the doctor shooed him out, she said, Theres no way I would have married that guy.
When she asked for help, her pastor, Father Duffy, suggested Unusual Investigations.
Tim OBannon travels from Glen Cove, Long Island, to Bangor, Maine; from Washington, DC, to Camp David. He meets with the Secret Service, with terrorists and other assorted bad guys. He learns more about the secret work of Hill Pharmaceuticals than he ever wanted to know.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 13, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514436363

Jack La Shay

Jack of all trades and master of some. Born in the Bronx, New York, he got his first job at fourteen in a bowling alley. He was a pin boy, not much call for that anymore. Then projectionist at Reeves Sound Studio in New York. When he was seventeen, like everyone else, he joined the navy. The Japanese heard that he joined, so they quickly surrendered. Having been a very small part of the war to end all wars, he signed up in the reserve. He went back to work in the sound studio, but the union took away his job. He was an unhappy young man. He went to the YMCA Auto Repair School. After a year of study and experience, he went to work at West End Cadillac. After six months, he was recalled to the navy. They called it a police action in Korea. Six days after leaving work at Cadillac, he found himself on the Icebreaker Edisto heading to Thule Greenland. With his ship based in Boston, he met Gloria, and upon his navy discharge, they were married. He went to work in Danvers, Massachusetts. He was a part-time cab driver and a full-time policeman while attending a two-year business college. Seven years later, he moved his family to Cape Cod, opened a gift shop, then a boat yard, and a restaurant. Convinced by a priest that he could teach Christian doctrine, he continues to share his faith. Twelve years later, he packed up his wife and five children and moved to Florida. He sold real estate while preparing to open Musicana, a musical dinner theater. Twenty-eight years later, after auditioning 120,000 singers, producing a thousand shows, in theaters, resorts, and cruise ships, he wrote a book. You should read it!

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Bellevue Hospital, NY City, Emergency Room

May 2, 2005

D ETECTIVE LIEUTENANT MICHAEL O’Bannon had been pacing back and forth, harassing any nurse or doctor he could find. He was trying to find out the condition of his brother, Tim. Tim O’Bannon had been brought in with a bullet wound to the head over an hour ago.

A Catholic priest came into the waiting room, he came directly to Michael O’Bannon. The priest was only about five eight, but he looked like he could be a lightweight boxer. About 55 years old with a square jaw, wide shoulders, flat stomach, and just a bit of a brogue. Would you be Michael O’Bannon?

Yes, how is he doing?

I gave him last rites while they were getting ready for the surgery. He passed on as they were bringing him into the operating room. I’m sorry, Michael. I’ll be offering mass for him in the morning. If there is anything else I can do for you, just ask. I’m Martin Duffy, Pastor of St. Patrick’s in Glen Cove.

Mike was choked up, with tears in his eyes, he asked, Could you get a hold of his pastor Father? His parish is Our Lady of Refuge, on 194th and Briggs Ave. They need to prepare for a really big funeral.

A commotion caught everyone’s attention, ten policemen in uniform and an older gentleman in a business suit, headed straight for Michael. How is he doing Michael?

He’s gone, Commissioner, he’s gone.

Kelly Raymond was not only Police Commissioner but a close friend of Tim and Mike’s father. He turned to Father Duffy and asked, Did he have last rites, Father?

Yes he did and he was conscious and at peace.

A doctor came running into the waiting room shouting, Michael O’Bannon, Michael O’Bannon.

Mike said, Calm down doctor, what’s going on?

He caught his breath and said, He’s alive, he’s alive, Tim O’Bannon is alive.

The room got so quiet you could hear a pin drop. How is that possible? He’s been dead for half an hour.

I don’t know, but they’ve taken him to ICU, he just sat up on the gurney as they were rolling him into the morgue.

Tim got stronger every day, but he didn’t speak. He took his meals, he took his medication. He did what was asked of him, but he didn’t speak. Twenty-one days later, on May 23rd, he asked his nurse if there was a Catholic priest he could see. She hurried off to find the doctor. When he arrived, he asked Tim how he felt.

Tim said, Are you a priest?

No, I’m your doctor.

I asked to see a priest.

The nurse is going to find him for you. The doctor took his vital signs and found him in good shape.

The nurse arrived with Father Duffy, he said, You look a lot better than the last time I saw you.

Did you give me last rites Father?

Yes, Tim, guilty as charged.

Tim turned to the doctor, Can we have some privacy, please?

Yes, of course.

The doctor and nurse left quietly.

When they were alone, Tim asked Father Duffy, How long was I dead?

According to the hospital, you weren’t dead, you were in a coma.

"I was dead Father. I was outside of my body. I could see them pull the sheet over my head. I watched while they rolled me to the morgue, the door was locked, so they had to go get a key.

The nurse said, Stay with the body, I’ll go get the key.

He said, No, I’ll get it, I can run up faster than you.

Tim said, I watched the whole thing from above somewhere.

You’re sure you didn’t dream this, Tim?

That’s what I want you to find out, Father.

And how am I supposed to do that?

You could check to see who took me to the morgue and ask them why I didn’t get to the morgue sooner. See if they mention that the morgue was locked and they had to get the key. Wouldn’t they have to sign for the key? Tim explained to Father Duffy that he didn’t want anyone to know about this, that’s why he’s not asking any questions himself.

Father Duffy said he would play detective and see what he could find out. He went to the administration office and asked if there is any way he could find out who took Tim to the morgue, it would mean a lot to him to say thanks in person. The nice lady said, No problem Father, do you know the date and time?

It was May 2nd and it was 6.45 PM.

She looked at her computer screen and told him, That would be William Belmont, he’s an orderly from Trauma One.

He found William Belmont in the ER and asked him if he remembered Tim O’Bannon.

I’ll remember him for the rest of my life Father.

Do you remember who was with you, William?

Sure, Annie Mack, she’s an RN in the ER.

It was lucky that it took so long to get to the morgue, If you had been quicker he would have been locked in a drawer.

Belmont shivered, I’ve thought of that a hundred times. It gives me the willies, if the morgue wasn’t locked he would probably still be dead.

Where did you have to go to get the key?

All the way back to administration. I had just opened the door and started to push the gurney into the morgue when he sat up. Annie took it better than I did. She talked to him calmly and took his pulse. Then she says why don’t you lie down and we’ll take you back to ICU. I don’t think my heart-rate got back to normal for an hour.

Tim is in a private room now, so if you can find the time to go up, he would like to thank you. Then he asked him where he could find Annie. Belmont told him she should be at the nurse’s station in the ER.

Father found Annie and listened to the same story.

I think Belmont was more impressed with your composure than with Tim.

She smiled, I’ve seen the pronounced dead come back before, Father. It just wasn’t his time.

Tim would appreciate it if you could stop by. He would like to thank you. You’re a credit to your profession Annie, the hospital should be glad you’re here.

Thank you Father. I will go up and say hello.

When Father Duffy reported back on his detective work, Tim said, I guess it wasn’t a dream, Father. The strange thing is, I knew I was OK. I didn’t care whether I came back or not. I knew I was dead. It’s taken me twenty-one days to understand, I have more to do before I leave for the better place. Consider this my confession, just you and me Father, no one else needs to know.

CHAPTER ONE

The River Shannon Irish Pub

July 25, 2005

T HE RIVER SHANNON Irish Pub is in the Bronx. For those of you that have never ventured into the thriving metropolis called New York City, it contains five Boroughs. They are Manhattan, The Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens and Staten Island. The Bronx is the only Borough that is on the mainland of New York State. The other four Burroughs are either on part of an island, or they are an island. Therefore, there are a lot of bridges, ferries, and tunnels in New York City. But I digress, The River Shannon Irish Pub is in the North East part of the Bronx. It’s on Webster Avenue, not far from the 52 nd precinct. The owner is Sean O’Bannon, brother of Timothy and Michael, both members of NYC police department. The three brothers were having a family meeting in a private dining room.

Tim O’Bannon had been released from Bellevue Hospital on June 15th. He finished his physical therapy on July 15th. The bureaucracy, called police administration, made a decision. They decided that they could not reinstate an officer who had been dead for 36 minutes. Since he was killed on duty, he had been retired at full-pay. So the brothers were meeting, to decide how Timothy would spend the rest of his borrowed life.

Michael said, You might have been the youngest detective on the force, but you were one of the best, you just go private.

Sean chimed in, I could always use another bartender.

Tim laughed, I could do both, I could tend bar and detect who had too much to drink.

Sean said, Maybe you should make a career of your magic.

I considered that, but I think Mike is right, I’m a better detective, than a magician.

`Mike said, I’m sure the Commissioner will approve your license and probably give you some work.

But I don’t know anything about running a business, and where would my office be?

Sean informed him, There’s an office upstairs, between Samantha and Jake. I’m sure Sam would help you get set up, she’s a great lawyer and good at business. It would also be convenient for your sessions with Jake.

I had my last session with Jake, for the department, but he wants to continue to pick my brain, on his own.

Jake is, Jacob Goldstein, Forensic Psychologist, who among other things, evaluates policemen, for their mental ability to work. He also is considered a leading expert in memory disorders and has written three books on the subject. Jake is a tall and thin six four and only 180 pounds, with a morbid sense of humor.

Jake keeps telling me not to make any quick decisions about my future, so I think we should adjourn this meeting until I speak to Jake and Father Duffy. If they both think it’s a good idea, then I’ll go talk to Samantha.

St. Patrick’s Catholic Church

Glen Cove, Long Island

July 26, 2005

Father Duffy is the pastor of St. Patrick’s, he is the priest that Tim first talked to when he woke up after being dead for thirty-six minutes. Father Duffy opened the door to the rectory and said, Well, well, sure’n I see standing before me an unemployed detective.

Tim asked, How did you find out that they dumped me?

Jake called as soon as he knew about it, he knew it would upset you.

My brothers think I should get a PI license and keep being a detective.

What do you think, Tim?

I think it is probably a good idea, except, I don’t have any business experience.

What you need then, is a secretary, bookkeeper, all in one person."

I guess I could afford one employee for a while. But I don’t know how to advertise my service, and I don’t know where to look for a secretary.

If you’re going to be doing this, Tim, the first person you should be talking to is Sam. She’ll be making sure you have all your licenses and permits in order and she can help you with potential clients. Lawyers hire more PI hours than anyone else."

Father, as usual, you are a font of knowledge, I don’t know what I would do without you.

Sure’n it’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?

The River Shannon, Second Floor

The Office of Samantha Smith

Attorney at Law

July 27, 2005

Thanks for squeezing me in Sam, I’m going to need a lot of help to get this business up and running.

I see that you applied for your license yesterday, that’s a good start.

How did you know that I applied already?

You used me as a reference, they called this morning.

Boy, that was fast.

Everyone up there knows who you are, Tim. I think you’ll get a lot of help from the department.

OK, so what do I do for a secretary?

Well, Tim, your magic is still working. I had a client that I did a will for two weeks ago. Her husband died a year ago and she wants to go back to work. She’s a bookkeeper, and if you can tolerate her brogue, she’ll be a perfect fit.

Could I use your office to talk to her tomorrow? They’ll be working in my office, but I want to get started and be in business by next Monday.

As soon as you have your license in hand, go to a local printer and get stationery and business cards made up.

Tim shook his head Oh, I didn’t even think about that.

Bring me some of your business cards and I’ll get them out to some other attorneys. Have you talked to Jake about this yet?

No, but we’re going to have lunch downstairs in an hour.

Good, he can get you some clients too.

The River Shannon Dining Room

Tim being Irish was eating corned beef and cabbage, Jake being Jewish also ate corned beef and cabbage.

Your brother Sean thinks I should be eating pot cheese and sour cream or lox and bagels. He thinks it’s not very Jewish of me to eat corned beef and cabbage.

Besides my politically incorrect brother’s comments about your eating habits, what do you think about my venture into the world of Mike Hammer?

I was surprised that it took you this long to figure it out. I think it is a splendid idea.

I listed you as a reference, so you’ll probably get a call from them.

I got a call this morning, from the Commissioner himself. He just wanted to know if I thought you were ready to go back to work. I told him that if you didn’t go back to work soon, you would drive all of your friends nuts.

He was really happy to hear that you’re doing so well.

Isn’t it a little strange to have the Commissioner calling about something like this?

Yes, it would be, but the Commissioner is a great friend of your father.

I hate for people to think I get special treatment.

Get over it, Tim, the Commissioner isn’t the only friend you’ve got on the force. Have you decided what kind of cases you want to work?

Tim looked thoughtfully and said, No, but I decided what kind of cases I don’t want to work.

That would be divorce cases, am I right?

Look, Jake, I know you don’t buy into the ‘Resurrection of Timothy O’Bannon’, but two of the finest doctors in New York tried to save me and failed. I was dead for thirty-six minutes. Of course, I realize that divorce work is how most Private Investigators make a living. But there must be a reason for me to be alive, I want to help good people Jake, I don’t want to do the usual PI stuff.

Jake smiled and said, "There it is Tim, a good name for your fledgling new business, Unusual Investigations, (Don’t call us we’ll call you!)"

"I love the name, but we can skip the slogan."

Jake laughed. Hey, I was only kidding.

I know you were, but I’m not, Unusual Investigations, with a Leprechaun and a pot of gold. Sam has found me an Irish Secretary-Bookkeeper, with a brogue.

CHAPTER TWO

Eight Years Later

T WO YEARS AGO, Mary Hill, the only daughter of Frank and Sarah Hill, was swept off her feet by John Fitch. Frank Hill, the founder of Hill Pharmaceuticals, Inc., is also the principal stockholder and chairman of the board. A few days after the wedding, Mary figures out that John is gay, and the marriage was a career