The Girl with One Arm

By Robert V. Mungerson

A crime mystery whodunit in a large US midwest city with murder cases, robbery cases, political consequences, reporter involvement with some romance filled in as well in this character-driven story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667839042

Book preview

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October 4, 2018

October 5, 2018

October 6, 2018

October 7, 2018

October 8, 2018

October 9, 2018

October 10, 2018

October 11, 2018

October 12, 2018

October 13, 2018

October 14, 2018

October 15, 2018

October 16, 2018

October 17, 2018

October 18, 2018

October 19, 2018

October 20, 2018

October 21, 2018

Copyright © 2022 by Robert V. Mungerson

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed,

or transmitted in any form or by any manner without the prior consent

of the publisher or the author. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance

to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Print ISBN: 978-1-66783-903-5

eBook ISBN: 978-1-66783-904-2

This is the 1st of the series of Lee Alexander novels.

The next one in the series is THE CAB MAN STRIKES BACK.

October 4, 2018

It was another exciting day in the world of cab driving as Lee Alexander tried to stay awake. The weather this morning was beautiful, great for the general population, but bad for cabdrivers as people walked, took the bus, train or even rode a bike if they could instead. Cold, sleeting rain or snow that’s when business picked up, not this weather. Alexander was parked down below the elevated commuter tracks just outside of the city, waiting for a call, a knock, a holler, something that would indicate that his services were wanted. He had dropped of a fare earlier there and decided it was a good a place as any to wait for future business. He was sticking to renting a cab rather than Uber as the money wasn’t much different and at least he didn’t have to worry about automobile repair bills this way, which were outrageous these days.

Alexander was a white man, about 30, average height and weight, definitely muscular, black hair, a thick black moustache with a bad scar on his right side of his face. An Englishman living in the Midwest United States for reasons that seemed to evolve that way rather than any master plan. It was past the morning rush hour and things were definitely on the slow side as he tried to focus on the world. Suddenly he heard a loud noise, a gunshot noise. Yes, it certainly was a gunshot and it was no common 9mm with an accompanying pop noise. It was a large caliber handgun noise and Alexander did know the difference. He looked forward and his vehicle mirrors, but didn’t notice anything unusual. He did notice another cab some 50 yards behind on the city side which was also parked. He thought it might be Pete, a fellow driver who he somewhat knew and sometimes talked with when their paths crossed. Now that his senses were on full- alert he realized the noise was behind him on that city side and decided to take a walk back and see if his fellow driver saw anything. Pete was a friendly amiable East Indian man in his mid-thirties who came over from India about ten years ago.

Alexander walked slowly over. It looked like Pete and if it was, he didn’t have a fare and was slumped over. But as he got closer, he found out why. There was a large hole in his head accounting for his position of slumped on his left side against the driver’s door. There was blood everywhere and with the driver side window open spattering outside as well. Ergo the gunshot he heard has been identified, at least victim wise. Alexander got on his cell phone and called the dispatcher of the cab company and told him what happened.

Do you want me to call the police or will you?

The dispatcher answered.

Stay there, I will call them. You sure he is dead?

Afraid so.

Stay there, the police will be there shortly.

In a couple of minutes two young patrolmen from the city showed up, one a large Black man and the other an average sized Hispanic. It looked to Alexander that the Black man was in charge of this duo and indeed that patrolman spoke up.

Your name please.

Alexander handed him his license (he knew they would ask anyways, skip the step he thought). I found the body. I heard the shot. Didn’t see anything when I turned around as the noise was behind me. That is my cab ahead of us.

How long ago did this happen?

Call it ten minutes. Lee was pissed that not only this tragedy had occurred right behind him but he reasoned that homicide cops would now show up and wipe out any money he could make for the morning.

Anything else you want to add? The black patrolman was doing all the talking and his partner was furiously writing everything down.

Not really. It looks like Pete, but I don’t know his last name. I sure there is some kind of ID in the cab and on him, but the company can give you more info if needed.

Thank you, sir. I think we have everything we need from you. We will contact you if we need more information.

And that was it. Even better Alexander got a call to pick up a fare and soon left the scene. Things seemed strange, but he left it at that. It was a brutal murder of a co-worker yet it had a surreal feeling to it. He couldn’t quite figure out this feeling.

•••

Alexander worked his usual hours before calling it a day, but it was a slow day and he figured all costs included he only cleared $40. Another poor pay day on a crummy job, he fit right in with so many workers these days. He had about a seven-block walk to his apartment from the cab company and decided to stop in to the small grocery store on the way. They had some large premade tasty subs he liked to buy there and besides he didn’t feel like cooking tonight. He picked up a bottle of beer as well and went to one of the two open cashier lines, the one with the girl he liked. She really wasn’t a girl, probably his age, maybe 5’4 or 5’5 tall, kind of on the petite side with black hair all over the place. It looked like she hadn’t combed it in weeks but the real identifying feature was her left arm or rather the lack of it. She had a silicone tan colored prosthetic that matched in color her right hand as that was all was visible with the long sleeves she was wearing. He guessed that must be half way from her wrist and her elbow by the way she maneuvered it. If one was not paying attention the average person might not notice it. He had tried to flirt with her on more than one occasion but she gave no reaction whatsoever and he asked her for her phone number when no one else was in line one day with no success. But he could relate to her. She looked sad, depressed, like no one had given her a kind word in years. He could relate to that. He came to the store 2 or 3 times a week on his way home from work, picking up some items. He noticed that her line was free of customers so he thought he would chat a bit with her. But for some reason he kind of froze and couldn’t think of what to say. The murder he had discovered probably didn’t help or maybe today was not just a confident day in his world. She had a system though on how to do her job at the register using her left to move things along the conveyer and her right hand to scan things along with all register particulars including currency transactions. But Alexander did make a parting comment to her, that for some reason he felt compelled to say.

I always like to come to your line. You are the one person on earth I can always rely to be more discouraged than me. She didn’t respond, but did give him what he thought was the slightest of smiles which was very demonstrative of her.

•••

Things hadn’t been going well lately for Detective Fred Burke and now he was in the office of a man named Rawlins who was sort of management of some kind. Every time a new mayor or police chief came in there was always a total flip of the police organization chart with different job titles and responsibilities and Burke honestly didn’t know what Rawlins title or responsibilities were. He had seen him in the hallways at the station but never had a meeting with him but figured whatever this was about, it wasn’t good. Burke was a white man in his early 40’s who looked older, slight of build, already some grey was appearing in his thinning hairline, all of this making him look even paler. Rawlins, also Caucasian, was a short burly man with fierce eyebrows, maybe 50, whose natural expression seemed to indicate displeasure or acid reflux at the very least. When he spoke those large teeth of his seemed to make his face alive, though not necessarily approachable. He currently was on the phone and Burke observed his no nonsense approach to someone obviously underneath him about the subject of evidence. Rawlins hung up the phone with a slam and looked towards Burke.

In case you didn’t know I am Bureau Chief Rawlins of the Violent Crimes Investigation Unit. I have been looking at your file. You have dome good work, solved some difficult cases in difficult circumstances and have been a credit to the department.

Thank you, sir. Is that why I am here?

No, despite your good work you have gone through three partners in the last thirteen months and all have been by your partner requests. Rawlins, unlike Burke talked rather quickly. Your last partner says here you never talked to her, that you didn’t say five words a month to her. A detective Amoro. What do you have to say about that?

What do you want me to say?

Why didn’t you talk to her or your other partners? What’s going on? Rawlins didn’t seem angry, more puzzled.

I thought Robinson was my boss. Shouldn’t he be here?

I am Robinson’s boss and he seems to need help in matching some of his detectives up. Talk to me Fred. You have personal problems? You need some time off?

Yeah, Fred thought. About three years off.

Rawlins started to stare down Burke making him finally start talking.

Do you really want to know?

Sure, tell me detective.

Fred smiled. He didn’t do it often but it was a great smile.

You really want to know; I will tell you.

Rawlins nodded his head.

Amoro is 29 going on 19. The only subject she is interested in is her two children. The only subject! You thought she was the only one in North America who had children! I could care less if she doesn’t follow sports or world events, but you think there is something else she cared about. I am not sure she even knows when the next election is because her children aren’t old enough to vote so it doesn’t concern her. She doesn’t seem very bright and is more hinderance to me than helpful. So why would I want to talk to her?

Rawlins spoke quietly now.

Now I know you’re not currently married, but you have to schmooze people a little you know. Do you have any kids, Fred?

One, but I don’t feel compelled to talk about him all day.

Rawlins held up his hand in effect that he wanted Burke to stop talking.

I get it. I really do. Tell you what. Today is Thursday. Take Friday off and report here Monday morning at 8:00 am. I am going to try and get you somebody better, somebody more your age and experience. And I really want you try and make it work. Go out of your way. If you can’t do that for me, I have wonder if you should be doing this anymore. What you got, close to 20 years? Think about what fits for you. If you are burned out maybe it is time to leave after your 20 is in. Yeah, we have a lot of Amoros’. They’re not ready, but we’re so shorthanded of good people out there. The commanders think they can train a detective in a year or two. We both know that’s not true. It’s not that easy. But if you do this job, we need you badly. Think about things tomorrow.

Can I ask a question?

Sure.

What does the chief of detectives think about all this?

"He’s above me, but he couldn’t name three detectives