The Juvenile Detective

By Mike Keyes

On winter days and nights in the city of Buffalo New York, things were relatively calm and peaceful. But when the United States was drawn into the global threat of World War 2, society became different. There was a buildup of military hardware, and citizens were forced to be on guard all over the country, and the Queen City was no exception. For a young boy who has just started high school, such events were the least of his concerns. Then one mild winter weekend, as he and his friends were enjoying a mischievous time being kids, something mysterious came about when a stranger came to town. Little did he know that getting his nose into somebody else’s business could go from being fun to deadly! 33

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781643349893

Book preview

1

It is the early period of 1944, and the United States is approaching its third year involvement of the Second World War. Our fighting forces are in Europe, Asia, Africa, and South America. Those fighting forces of men, young and not so young, have been gone for a very long time, and they won’t be back home until the job is done. Back here in America, a good number of men are on guard along the East Coast, keeping a close lookout for Nazi U-boats, submarines, ships, spies, and other oppositions that might try to infiltrate our country in order to disrupt our nation’s way of life and bring us down along with our allies. The government is running short on supplies, so a mandated rationing of gasoline and certain foods have limited the normal way of life in the States. Recycling of metals is in great demand, and the people have pitched in, including certain color dyes for major products which made changes. America’s patriotism against the Germans and Japanese is depicted throughout all media and entertainment to influence the public into doing their part in order to bring victory and prosperity…at nearly all costs.

It is Tuesday, March 14, 1:35 a.m. EST, and far off the shores of New York City, a Type VIIIC U-boat sits unnoticed by those guarding the beaches. Keeping a distance of about a half mile away, the deck barely sticks up out of the water. Nobody expects any kind of invasion, yet those keeping watch try not to keep their guard down. For Coney Island on this partially cloudy night, the moon gives very little light to shed upon the ocean as tiny bubbles have risen to the surface concealed by the waves of water. Under a pier, footsteps maneuver up and down the ends while an unseen figure crawls out of the water quietly underneath to the wet sand. The figure removes her equipment that enabled her to swim underwater: a self-contained oxygen device, of French-origin, swimming goggles, and wetsuit are collected in a bag as the mysterious person makes no noise converting barefoot to the grass and concrete lot and then into a nearby neighborhood where a blue coupe has been waiting. She makes a change of clothes inside the vehicle while it runs in case of the need for a quick getaway. She looks back to where she came from and does not see any sign of being followed. With a change of fresh dry clothes and checking on fuel, she is now ready to go.

On route from Brooklyn, the blue 1940 Special Series has been driving westward for a few hours and makes a stop for another few somewhere in Pennsylvania for some rest, more fuel, and other supplies. Back on the road, there are items close by on the passenger side. There is a leather attaché and a map with penciled markings on points of interest: Niagara Falls and Buffalo. A lipstick-stained cigarette burns while held in clad brown leather gloves. She continues on, staying within the speed limit and maintaining the course.

At the same time, the winter in Buffalo is taking its normal toll of snow and wind. There is about four inches of the white powder, and the temperature sits at thirty-four degrees. Lake Erie isn’t even frozen over, but still with the dry and cold atmosphere, it is enough to give someone hypothermia if they had fallen in. Western New York is known for its winter woes, but keeping the well-adapted people from going about their usual lifestyles is only minimal.

Transportation is well in transit with the streets being plowed, pushing the remnants of snow built up on the curbs, as well as the sidewalks shoveled and salted for pedestrians. The railroad is up and running, carrying military hardware transported from Bell Aircraft to the many bases throughout the country.

Now approaching the halfway point inside Pennsylvania, the driver can only go on so much. Having such an agonizing drive, she finally makes a stop for an overnight rest to a small motel before making the following day her final run.

Late the following morning, about four hours from Erie, she gets up and finds a nearby diner to grab a quick breakfast before venturing out further north. Coffee and fruit was just enough of the good foods she needed to reach the greater Niagara region in New York, making her one weary traveler.

Back in the city of Buffalo, on East Delavan Avenue, to the left half of a two-family home lives young James Doyle and his father, Floyd. Having the right half of the dwelling unoccupied provides the young men to live a quiet and comfortable lifestyle. Jim might seem like just another one of your typical teenage boys; he stands averagely five feet and nine inches with wavy brown hair and dressed fairly casual but not outcaste from his friends. Jim is in his sophomore year of high school, but one thing that places him aside from some fellow peers is that his intelligence level has been recorded to be above average. He has been teased a bit by others, tolerating name-callings like bookworm, smarty pants, know-it-all, but he never wanted to be any kind of teacher’s pet. He wasn’t exactly one with the ladies either. Jim liked the girls well enough, but they were more interested in the athletes and bad-boy types. He knew that when the time was right, someone special would come his way.

Likewise to Jim, his father, Floyd, was quite taller with similar characteristics to his son. He, too, showed that knowledge had run in the family. Not only a book-smart and street-smart youth he was, but he was also very agile in school athletics. After graduation, he enlisted to fight in the first war.

Floyd Doyle makes his living as the local top investigator for precinct 7 of the Buffalo Police Department. It has been another busy day at the precinct, and school for Jim, but right now, they are just sitting down for a relaxing dinner.

So, Jim, his father asks as he sets two plates of ham steaks for each other in the kitchen, how did you make out on the history test we studied for?

Taking a drink from his glass of milk, Jim replies, I tell you, Pop, it felt so right when I had that paper in front of me. I finished before everyone else, so I had time to look back at my work and double-check. Then I realized I remembered everything I studied for. I mean, what we studied for. Like that part about Theodore Roosevelt and San Juan Hill. That was my favorite. I was having a good ole time today, feeling on top of the world. Some of the other kids looked a bit edgy, but I nailed it down.

What a smart little man we have here. Son, I’m glad to see you weren’t distracted when it comes to schoolwork. You seem to be getting better as we work together on what matters most.

You know Mom would have been happy too, huh?

And how, son. She’d be so proud of her young man becoming very much like his old man. Well, in a matter of speaking, I’m sure she is looking over you in delight.

As they continue their meal, some dinner music from the confines of the living room can be heard off the radio—sounds of such big bands like Tommy Dorsey and Count Base’s Orchestra. Presently it is Benny Goodman’s Orchestra playing St. Louis Blues.

Well, son, after you’re done, how about hitting those books before the shows later this evening? he says as he clears the table. I’ll do the dishes and remember—no comics until bedtime.

No problem, Dad, he replies as the well-fed boy makes his way to the upstairs bedroom.

Jim spends most of his after-school time in his studies, which explains how he excels in his classes. His handwriting used to be a bit illegible, but he improved in a short time. And being a heavy reader, he found it made learning not only entertaining but a tool for filling his mind with only necessary information. History has become a favorite because he likes how it explains so much about the world and its effects on America, the evolution of technology, and understanding how things work. Of course, this made him rather unpopular with the girls, yet one in particular somewhat carried a torch to him since they were children. Not that he’s a boy to his small group of friends; they all just have different characteristics. Just as well as other groups, they get together for leisure time as a nice break to freedom.

After his studies, Jim comes down to the living room and sits comfortably by the Zenith 9-S-369 Model Console for a show, while his father reads the Courier. Programs like Life of Riley and Suspense were aired regularly. These and other programs catered to delight every interest on whatever the genre, men and women, young and old. Stories of crime, comedy, science fiction, and especially chillers had listeners on the edge of their seat. Even the narrator would instruct those to turn off the lights to make the setting and experience the full effect. He would also give caution to those who are the weak of heart not to listen and to turn off the radio.

But the one that draws his attention the most is True Detective Mysteries, which is based on the magazine he often reads. The shows ran between twenty-five to forty-five minutes. The tales told had great sound effects, drama and suspense to get the listener’s excitement to the point that it was as if they were there at the scene of the crime. Jim doesn’t need the sound up very much to enjoy it, but the volume he has set is quiet enough for him to enjoy without interfering with Floyd’s reading. Just in time, a commercial message has just ended, and the narrator begins.

"It’s time now for…True Detective Mysteries, he says in a deep and encouraging way. Tonight, we present the story from the files of the Chicago Police Department. It is a tale about one woman’s obsession of a man who had done her wrong and then murdered him by outrage. A story we like to call ‘Murder in the Name of Jealousy.’"

The broadcast tells this story of an incident that happened five years ago, where a woman was in love with a coworker who rejected her advances. This built up anger and jealousy when she found out he was involved with someone else, so she murders him but not his love interest. Fearing for what she has done she will eventually be caught, she hides herself in an abandoned building for a short time. Her actions became more regretful and her own life meaningless from what she had done. When the police received information of her whereabouts, the police closed in on her. Before apprehension, she then kills herself, leaving behind a note about her actions and why she had done what she did. It was a sad tale of one’s waste of life and destroying someone else’s that she did not need to do.

After the show, Jim turns off the radio and then turns to his father. Well, what do you know about that, eh, Pops?

What’s that, son?

You must have heard some of that story, right? I mean, this woman was so in love with that guy that she kills him and then herself. Why, why would someone do that?

I guess some people just don’t have all those gears running right in their heads.

"But if she felt that she couldn’t live without him, why didn’t she just spare him and doom herself? You’d think it was like a Romeo and Juliet kind of tale or something."

Although Floyd is still reading the newspaper, he is still able to carry on the conversation with his son and continues on.

The way I see it, Jim, people are giving a cry for help. There can be signs of such anguish that not everyone can see. Some might notice a person’s actions out of the ordinary, but sadly, they don’t see it as something serious and do not do anything to help, thus leading to something tragic that could have been prevented by others.

You mean that something like that could have been stopped or prevented if someone had just said something or called the police about her?

That’s about the size of it, son. You see, Jim, we are all one community. If you know about somebody and they start acting like they are not themselves, we can all help out and keep society safe. The same can be said in schools. For instance, if you know someone there, and they start doing things or talking about something bad they want to do towards someone else, it’s not being a tattletale if it sounds serious enough. You wouldn’t want to feel like someone else’s blood is on your hands because you didn’t come forward about that bad kid, right?

I kind of see what you’re getting at, Pop.

What I’m saying is, the actions of a person is what matters most, not necessarily what they use, how they do it, or who they do it to. It is personal responsibility that we are smart enough to have. Just remember, we are supposed to be responsible for our actions. Nobody makes us do anything we don’t want to do…unless we are under duress. Of course, I hope nothing bad happens at school, or anywhere else for that matter.

Hmm, I see what you mean, Dad. That all seems clear. We’re only human, but we learn to know good from bad. Sounds like common sense to me.

That’s just what it is, buddy. Simple common sense. And don’t be afraid to speak up if you know or see someone acting out of the ordinary. All it takes is one person to make a difference. Just speak up and inform someone before a tragedy happens.

But what if someone was to get their mitts on a weapon? I mean, it can be easy enough for someone packing heat, but if they couldn’t…

Having a gun is merely a tool, Jim. Whether someone can or cannot get a hold of a certain weapon, they will find any means necessary to kill. If they can’t get a gun, they will use a knife or maybe a solid object, anything they can get their hands on. Their only intent is to kill, and that’s it.

The room is quiet with only a slight ruffle of the newspaper heard. Then Jim brings up another question to his father about crime stories from the radio. Hey, Pops, ever think some of these thugs getting nabbed because folks listen to these stories?

His father, still with the paper, replies, Oh, very much so, and through their aid, some have received a reward. That is one of the reasons why they air such stories. When word gets out on a fugitive, there’s no telling where he or she might try to go. Sometimes they head off to another town.

Any around these parts ever get caught that you know of?

The detective pauses from his reading and gives his story of a case he remembers all too well.

"Funny you asked that, son. About five years ago, I was on a call involving a murder that was featured as an episode on a True Detective radio broadcast. You wouldn’t know about this since I thought you were a bit young for these things, and my being on the force was just enough for you to go by—"

Jimmy quickly interrupts and asks, But, Pops, my being around the other cops at work was okay?

I thought it was appropriate. Only sometimes those guys were somewhat stretching the story just to amuse you because you were still a kid.

Jim stays focused on his father’s story as Floyd continues on.

"Anyway, the show detailed about a guy who was on the lamb from Cincinnati for illegal gambling and owed some dough to loan sharks. So he came here thinking he was far enough from them and the law, and then he settled down somewhere on Elmwood. Those hoods managed to track him here through some of his friends that squealed. And they said when they found him,