Taddio- The Case of The Barefist Boxer
Taddio and Blackwell intrude on the Underbelly of Grover City
Harry stepped out of his Mercedes. He pressed the button on his key ring alarming the car. He did not like leaving his baby here by the docks, but, he had been looking forward to tonight for a long time. He stepped into Finnegan’s, a dockside bar.
The bar stank of sweat and desperation. Mary, the ancient barmaid, looked up at the suited banker who had just stepped in. He stalked through the room, not even looking at Happy. He was the drunken man who loudly argued an invisible adversary with whom he had an aggressive relationship with. The well dressed young man did not even glance at the two high haired beauticians who had crossed their legs and pushed their busts out to get his attention while they ogled him with lustful eyes.
Harry walked up to Mary and ordered a 'Tullamore Dew Whiskey.' She nodded and told him that it would cost five dollars. He smiled with pleasure. He then made his way toward the back bathroom. He went to a full length mirror and knocked the mirror five times. The mirror swung open and Harry walked through the portal.
There was a thin set of steel steps. The walls were of a dark brick punctuated with small depression era scone lamps. He got to the bottom of the steps and the sweat and blood filled the air. Men were screaming and shouting. Patrons clasped tickets and waived their arms.
Two men were in the centre of the room. The older man was shaky and trembling. He kept on swinging his fists blindly. His face was a mashed mass of red flesh. His eyes were swollen over, his lips massive while his hair was plastered in sweat and blood. His opponent was not looking pretty either. The challenger was a younger man with curly black hair. One of eyes was swollen over. The skin on his face was cut and blood flowed freely.
Harry screamed his support for the older man, hoping he could ensure a win through the psychic infusion of will and support. The support seemed too weak to make any difference. The older boxer was stumbling, his face was green and he seemed to be barely standing at all.
The older man swung a massive over arm punch, Harry called out, “Yeah!” The young man dodged it. He then pulled his fist back and jabbed the older boxer in the face. The stockbroker lifted his hands up and screamed out “No, No, No!” The older man fell. He then vomited. His eyes rolled back into his head and he began to fit. Suddenly his movement stopped.
A small bird like man rushed to the scene, he lifted up the left arm of the young kid, “The Winner and Champion is Jerry ‘The Jester’ Johnson." Tickets were thrown to the ground and the crowd turned surly. Soon enough a large dockside worker was angry with his buddy who brought him to the establishment and swung his fist.
The next thing the crowd were turning on each other. Fists flew as did furniture. Harry punched a book keeper who was pushed into him, he then went to charge a young university student when he tripped on the book keeper and fell to the stone floor. Two large security guards were trying to calm things down but ended up throwing punches and making the riot much worse. Angry men were dropping like flies. As the weaker ones fell, the stronger ones turned on each other and the fighting became deadly.
Suddenly the stairway was filled with police. The police using batons but soon patrons started to use weapons on them. Harry heard a cop scream “Tazers!” he decided to crawl out on the floor and make his exit. Just as he thought he was away a female cop tazered him and he blacked out.
Finally the cops managed to calm the riot down. One by one the patrons, boxers and organisers were taken away in cuffs. On the ground the older boxer lay amongst the tickets, dirt, broken furniture, blood and vomit.
He was not moving at all.
Earlier that evening
Constable Constance Blackwell took the file over to Detective Armando Taddio, “It says that this woman, Mrs Elsie Andrews died of natural causes but she didn’t. I rang her regular doctor and he said that his records show that he issued her medication and the pharmacy said it was dispensed. When I went through her personal effects there was no sign of the medication."
Constance flipped over the sheet in the file and continued, " I think someone took her meds and thus they killed her. There was a robbery at her house on the day of her death and it seems that they took her meds. Probably thought they were drugs that they could take or sell. Anyway these thieves killed her. The only inconsistency is that she was wearing a locket that was worth at least five hundred bucks but they left that on her. Maybe they did not see the locket.”
Armando nodded, he had already figured out that Mrs Andrews did not die of natural causes, he handed the case to his protégé to see if she would work that out.
She managed it even faster than he predicted she would, He complimented her, “Excellent, there is a rave on tonight and I suspect that the thieves were equipping themselves for it. We will drop by and see who is selling to whom and make some arrests.” As the two police started to ready themselves to leave the Chief interrupted them.
“Right boys and girls, we have had a tip that there is a bare fist boxing match being run by our favourite slime, Jackson Main a.k.a ‘ The Man.’ I am going to get that Shit and you Goat Lovers are all going to help me. We are all in this, there is going to be a drunken crowd who have been watching blood sport, aggression is more than bloody expected. There are going to be wannabe heroes tonight, so suit up. We are going to need a fucking army to take this Son of a Bitch down.”
Constable Blackwater grabbed her bullet proof vest and helped Taddio adjust his so it would fit around his girth. The vest wasn’t going to make it. Constance grabbed her scissors and slit the vest up the sides and popped it over her partner's head. She then used masking tape to secure it. The other cops laughed at the comical scene.
Constance glared at her co-workers threateningly and they hid their smiles. To distract Taddio from his humiliation she started chatting, “I wish the Chief did not speak like the illegitimate child of a prostitute and a sailor. Honestly I love the guy, but, I would just love to cut sick on his potty mouth with a cake of soap and some steel wool.”
Taddio and Blackwell joined their colleagues, adrenaline pumping through their veins, in heading to the raid on the home of the bare fist boxing matches- a seedy dive named Finnegan’s.
Later that evening the police were gathered outside the East side establishment. They hid in the shadows and watched a Mercedes turn up. A plain clothed detective named Young followed the target. a young well dressed professional man, in. He watched as the stock broker went over to talk to Mary the barmaid before going to the toilet. Young then hid in the corridor and heard the patron knock five times. The detective poked his head in the bathroom just in time to watch the mirror snap back into place.
Young went back and told the Chief, who was in middle of one of his motivational speeches, where and how they could enter the den.
The police formed a compressed unit of two by two to enter the premises. They stormed through the door the two lines of cops split apart and fanned out filling the bar with armed officers. Two cops dragged the beautician girls into a cop car and two other officers nabbed Mary and Happy, the drunken angry man. This part was done in silence. The operation was so efficiently enacted that Mary did not get the chance to hit the alarm button.
The cops entered the Men’s room, this time they formed a chain. They smashed the glass and threw down a smoke grenade. Their red targeting laser lights cut through the smoke. With their gas masks on they entered the den. There was a brawl that had already broken out. Detective Young ducked, just before a chair hit him in the head. Sadly, the Chief was not so fortunate and the chair collected him on the forehead. Despite his head gear the Chief was knocked over and spent the rest of the raid on his back in La, La land.
Young called out, “Batons and mace. Now!” The police dropped their guns and grabbed their batons and mace. Despite their efforts the crowd was in fever pitch. The police officers just excited the crowd. The blood flowed freely. Young was hit with a short metal pole.
Taddio called out, “Tasers!” The cops who heard him grabbed their Tasers. Several of the patrons and dockworkers hit the floor in trembling messes. The riot quietened.
The police dragged the patrons out, a little more roughly than they were supposed to. One by one the rioters were yanked up the narrow metal steps. Armando and Constance helped Young and the Chief.
The Chief came to and realised he missed all the action, “That really pisses me off. Get off me Taddio, how much do weigh? I am going to get my hands on Jackson Main and then I will personally rip off Jackson's bloody head and piss down his throat!”
Taddio muttered, “Charming Chief, your verbosity and eloquence is remarkable.”
The Chief stared at his most senior detective in a bewildered fashion, “Taddio, I may not understand a single fucking word you ever say but I understand the tone plenty. So- SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He marched off toward the narrow exit leaving his detectives to inspect the crime scene.
Constance watched her frustrated boss storm off. She was still shaky from having to Taser the stock broker guy, “I can forgive his swearing at this moment, this situation was truly F.U.B.A.R. Jackson Main will want to not get mouthy around the Chief at the moment!”
“F.U.B.A.R?” Taddio inquired with a raised eyebrow.
Constance smiled, “Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.”
“Ahh, I see- an excellent and impressive usage of an anagram Blackwell.” Taddio returned her grin.
Armando and Constance examined the underground den of Finnegan’s. The large Detective walked around the room. His eyes scanned the blood splatter, the puddle of vomit, the broken glasses and the busted furniture. The photographer took image after image. Each click brought a large flash of light that bleached the dark brick den.
Blackwell was surveying the scene she reconstructed the events of the night in her mind’s eye. She could see the two bare fist fighters, one large and experienced the other thin, fit and young. She could see each fist smashing into the other man’s face. The crowd crowding around yelling and shouting, she could see their faces aroused by the blood. The noise and violence drowning the senses and rob each participant of their core humanity. She could visualise the riot as if in slow motion.
There was something strange though.Finally she put her finger on it, “Shouldn’t there be a circle drawn on the floor?”
Taddio replied “It would appear as though in this instance this was an ‘Irish Stand Down.’ This is a a type of traditional bare knuckle fighting where the aspect of maneuvering around the ring is removed, leaving only the less nuanced aspects of punching and "taking" punches. This form of combat was popular in Irish American ghettos in the United States in the late 19th century but was eclipsed in the Irish American community first by bare knuckle boxing and then later by regulation boxing. It seems as though this industrious boxing promoter, Jackson Main, looked up the history books and brought back this form of fighting to 21st century Grover.”
Constance stopped and stared at her partner, her hands in the air in a gesture of surrender, “Taddio, is there anything you do not know?”
“My wife, 15 years I have been married to that woman and she is a complete enigma to me.”
Blackwell grinned “I love your wife, Taddio. She is my hero. Any woman who can keep you on your toes is a champion. Why are we here? It is obvious that Connor Brennan, the victim, was knocked out and killed in the fight.”
“I did not know you were a coroner Blackwell.” Constance felt abashed, it was true. They had yet to hear from the coroner. Nothing could be taken for granted until they did.
The Detective continued, “The best time to solve a crime is 24 hours after it has taken place. If we wait for the coroner to state whether a murder has or has not taken place, the trail gets cold. For example right now, our witnesses are all in the lock-up and we can question them. Soon it will be too late as they will lawyer up and more importantly sober up and we will get nothing from them.”
Constance took in everything her mentor was telling her. She knew she would not forget this lesson. She continued to investigate the room, “The problem with this crime scene is that everything looks dodgy and seedy and yet in a strange way nothing looks wrong.”
“You’re right Blackwell, I think that we have seen everything there is to see here. Let’s get back to the station and start the questioning. I hope you have had some coffee, this is going to take all night.”
Back at the station
Tthe Chief was in full voice. His station was full of drunk and bruised dock workers and other assorted people of the Grover Underworld. He had called in every cop at his disposal and they were all taking statements. The station stank like a pub and sounded worse. “Hurry up, find out what these assholes know. I want them charged and packed off to whatever flea hole or rat trap that they call home. The lock-up it full!”
Just then Happy the drunk suddenly stood on a chair and proclaimed “I am sick of your shit Percy! You keep giving me lip and I will knock you the fuck out!”
Mary, the barmaid, called out, “Happy, sit down mate. Percy's a wanker, he is a miserable sack of shit. I may never have seen him but I hate him too.” Happy sat down and continued to complain about Percy.
Constance whispered to Mary “Who is Percy?”
Mary replied in a hushed tone,“Nobody knows, but, we know that whatever he did, twisted Happy. Shame really, he used to be a nice bloke once. I suppose you will want to be talking to me then.”
Constance nodded and led the barmaid to an interrogation room. “Mary, give the lowdown on what happened tonight.”
Mary leaned back and stared straight into Blackwell's eyes,“I have worked at Finnegan’s for six years, we were going bust. Tom Finnegan was in a bind. His two ex- wives were gouging him stupid. Finnegan’s has been a part of the Eastside for over a hundred years and in that whole time it has been in Tom’s family. Our clientele was basically down to Happy and he is not that rich. Jackson Main ‘The Man,’ was a seedy little rat. One night offered to help Tom. The cost he demanded for getting Tom out the shit, was to run some underground boxing matches at Finnegan's.”
It was obvious to Constance that Mary had stronger feelings for Tom than an employee would normally have.
Mary continued, “He wanted to hold the matches in the hidden den that was under the pub. It was a left over from Finnegan’s less than legal past. Basically customers order a ‘Tullamore Dew’ off of me. If I think they aren’t cops I give them a price. This tells the customer the code for the night. Tonight it was five. The customer knocks on the toilet mirror the right amount of times and it opens. That is pretty much all I know. I don’t go into the den.” Mary put her shoulders out and stuck out her chin defying Blackwell to challenge her.
Blackwell was ready to let Mary go but before she did she wanted to ask about the body that was found on the floor.
Mary leaned forward as if she was letting Constance in on a secret, “I did know that bloke. His name was Connor Brennan. He was a good fellow, honest. He used to be a boxer in his younger years but slowly the fights dried up. He was too beat up to be much use to boxing. Jackson set him up in the bare fist boxing racket and you know what? Conner found his second wind. The old man used his experience and ability to take a punch and still stand to win, match after match. He was the Mohammad Ali of the bare fist boxing world. He was unstoppable. The punters loved him. The odds were never high on him but it was a guaranteed pay day. At least till today. I don’t know what went wrong tonight but I can tell you one thing. There is no way that kid should have beaten him. No way!”
While Blackwell was busy with Mary, Taddio was questioning Jackson 'The Man,' Taddio leaned in close to the accused and said in a quiet voice, “You are facing many charges Mr Jackson, however, I do not imagine that any of them will be difficult for you to overcome. Your record shows that you normally hire Barry Bale, he is a great defense lawyer. As good as he is, he can’t help you if you are found guilty of murder. You will do serious jail time. Right now I am your only friend.”
Jackson looked genuinely shocked “Murder, you can’t pin any murder on me cop. I don’t even know who is dead. I sure as hell didn’t kill nobody.”
Taddio nodded, then spoke, “I believe you. I am a good detective, I am not boasting when I tell you that I am the best. If you are innocent, I will prove it. If you didn’t do it then you need to help me figure out who did. Because, frankly, with your record and links to organized crime, the D.A. is going to come gunning for you.” Jackson squinted, he assessed Taddio. Clearly he believed the Detective.
Jackson looked around furtively to check if anyone beside Taddio could hear him, “Yes, I do run an illegal boxing competition- but man, it is not like I am selling crack. My boxers know the risks they run and they do it of their own free will. My bookies and clients know it is not legal but they keep turning up. People like Tom and Mary are able to keep the place running and have jobs. There is no harm and no foul. The truth is I never liked the idea of the match between Jerry Johnson and Connor Brennan. Connor was a war horse and nobody was able to beat him. I couldn’t find anyone who was willing to go toe to toe with him.”
Taddio bent forward, “If you did not set up this match, who did?” Jackson lit a cigarette swung back on his chair and then continued, “Connor himself came to me and begged, yes begged, for me to put that kid in that fight. I told him it was dangerous and that the weedy kid might get hurt but he wouldn’t listen. Connor is a good bloke who made me some cash, I owed him. The night of the fight though, he was off his game. He was sick and vomiting. I gave him some antacid. He was pale and trembling. Old Con insisted on fighting though.”
Just then the Chief burst in, “Jackson, you are in a world of shit now my little friend. In fact I would say that you are up shit creek in a barbed wire canoe without a paddle. The Coroner called, Connor was poisoned. I would love to see you and your slimy lawyer climb out of this one. I don’t know what this department is going to do with itself when it is not arresting you on a weekly basis. You know I am feeling good so I am going to get a celebratory drink. Taddio arrest this little Prick.”
Armando nodded “I will arrest him for running the boxing competition and the illegal gambling. I will even arrest him for public nuisance but I cannot finger him for this murder. Chief, could I look at the Coroner’s findings?” The Detective took the file and noted that Connor was murdered via a lethal injection of Insulin. The injection site was on his backside. The Chief’s mood was spoiled and he looked at Taddio with hostility before storming out.
Jackson was now desperate, “I had nothing to do with poisoning anybody. I told you Connor was like that when I got there.”
“You mentioned that Connor was desperate for this Jerry Johnson to fight, do you know why?” Jackson shook his head. “I don’t know, I did not get to where I got to by worrying about why people do what they do.” The Detective signaled for Jackson to be removed and asked the officer if he would get Jerry Johnson and Constance for him.
When Jerry was brought into the interrogation room, with Constance, he looked terrified. He did not even wait for the investigators to ask questions he just leaped in. “I just want to go home. This is the dumbest thing I have ever done. My parents are going to kill me!”
Blackwell nodded sympathetically and then said “It is okay Mr Johnston, everyone makes mistakes- just tell us what happened and we will get you home soon, okay?” The boy would have been quite good looking had his face not been mangled by his recent fight.
He was much smaller than the victim and it did not make sense that he was in the match at all, “Okay, I received a scholarship for University but I took a bit of pot and I was arrested for it and driving under the influence. I lost my scholarship and I was desperate to continue my studies. My parents were unable to help and part time work was hard to get. I knew I had to swallow my pride and ask my birth father for help. My biological father was Connor Brennan. He gave me some cash but it wasn’t enough. He told me of the boxing match and said that he could enter me in it. His plan was that he would take a fall and I could get the money from betting against him. Out of desperation, I agreed.”
Taddio looked at Blackwell and then said, “Mr Johnson, your father is dead. I am afraid and it would seem as though he was murdered, if you know anything about it you better tell me now.”
Constance was clearly surprised by this revelation but she kept mute and encouraged the petrified young man to continue, “Dead, murdered! Oh, my, God! I didn’t do it, I can’t believe Connor is dead. He has not always been the best father, but he did not deserve to die. Do whatever you can to figure out the bastard’s name who did this. I want to see them rot! I know you are going to ask me if I know anyone who might have killed him. His wife probably did. That Bitch has been sleeping around on him. He loved her though and wouldn’t leave. She is a nurse in an old people’s home, ‘Haven Home.’ If she did this, I want her peroxided ass to suffer!”
Later on that evening, the two police officers were in the midnight black 1967 Volvo. Constance sighed “Well, this case looks pretty open and shut. I checked the files and there were many domestic disputes involving the victim and his wife. She was beaten up a few times. The pictures of her injuries were not pretty. She never pressed charges and gave excuse after excuse about the bruises. I guess she had enough. He probably found out about her cheating and went too far. She in self-defense killed him. I can’t say I blame her.”
Armando was driving in his usual precise and careful way. “At the moment it does look easy. It would not be the first time that a domestic dispute has resulted in a homicide. Poison is often known as the females’ method of killing for a reason. Here we are.”
Inside Haven Home
Soon they were in the nurses’ break room with a small dyed blond woman with dried leather skin. She was not sad to hear of the demise of her husband, “Good, I am glad that Bastard is dead. I did not kill him though. I wanted to, plenty of times. “
Constance asked the woman where she was when the incident occurred and she said she was at home. Blackwell asked her if her husband was with her. She said that he was moving downstairs but she was upstairs taking a bath and she never saw him. Constance continued her line of questioning “ Do you have access to insulin?”
Mrs Brennan nodded, “I am a nurse, there is quite a bit of insulin around here.”
Taddio then asked, “It occurs to me as though there was nothing keeping you in the marriage, why did you not just leave Connor?”
Mrs Brennan stood up and went to look out one of the grimy windows of the break room, “I would have left him but I would have had no money at all. I am too old to start again, I am not pretty like I was. To leave him would mean being poor and alone.”
Constance put her hand on Mrs Brennan’s arm, “I am sorry but I am going to have to take you in.”
Mrs Brennan looked alarmed but she seemed co-operative, “I understand why you want to do this but I did not do it. Listen can you do me a favor? My niece is over at the General Hospital in the Tyler Ward. She is a little girl who is dying of leukemia. My brother was hoping he could get her into some program that is being run up state but we could not get the money together. I just want to say goodbye to her. She will probably be dead by the time we get this sorted. ”
Armando agreed that he would do this favor for her if she agreed to continue to be co-operative.
At the Tyler Ward, I.C.U. Unit Grover General Hospital.
Soon the party were at the general hospital and a tall angular man was in a heated exchange with Doctor Tame, a doctor that Taddio and Blackwell had met in a previous case. Jean Brennan indicated that the Tall man was her brother who was currently begging the Doctor, “It is not too late Doctor Tame. Here is the money, put Angela in the program.” Jean's brother kept trying to shove crumpled notes into the Doctors hands but he refused to take the money.
Tame did his best to look like a sympathetic human, “Sir, it is too late. Angela’s condition has worsened greatly since you were told about that program. She is no longer a candidate for the study. I am sorry. It is time to say goodbye. Angela needs you now. You are wasting what little time she has left arguing with me. I know you don’t want to let go but it is time.”
Constance undid Mrs Brennan’s cuffs and she ran over to the little thin girl who was drowning in a see of tubes, “Angela honey, can you hear me?”
The little girl opened her heavily shadowed large brown eyes, “Aunty Jean, have you seen Daddy?” The tiny patient’s voice was horse and dry. Constance grabbed a glass of water and put the straw into the girl’s mouth. Angela sipped and then signaled for the pan, she vomited up all of the water while Constance held her upright.
The man who had been arguing with Doctor Tame sat down next to his daughter’s bed, “Don’t worry Angie, Daddy is going to make the stupid doctor get you into that program in Metro City. We are going to catch a plane and leave. I am just going to pack your things.”
“Daddy, I don’t think I am going to Metro City, just hold me.” Her father put his arms around the skeletal shoulders of his little girl. Jean Brennan stroked Angela’s hand. “Daddy, tell me the story of our beach Christmas.”
The father gently kissed her head, his tears dampened his face, “Last year we went to see the sea. I rented a shack on the beach. There was you, me, Aunty Jean, Uncle Connor and Grandma. You played in the water until your skin turned blue and wrinkly.”
The little girl drew a thin smile at the memory and closed her eyes. Her father stroked the back of her bald head. “You were worried that Santa would not find us so we built a huge bonfire and threw your letter to Santa into the flames. Then a gust of wind blew across the beach and the partially burned letter blew high into the sky and flew over to the sea. It went all the way to the North Pole where Santa read it. He brought you a bright pink bicycle which sat under the tree on Christmas Morning.”
Just as her father finished the story the alarm went off on the E.C.G. Angela passed from this world in the loving arms of her family.
Blackwell wrapped her arms around Taddio’s neck and sobbed. His tears etched down his face unremittingly. Doctor Tame came over and turned the alarm off. The adults just wept and silently prayed for God to take the little princess into his heart and guide her to heaven.
After a while Constance went up to Jean, “I am sorry Jean but we have to go now.”
She nodded silently and went to Angela’s still body. She lifted up Angela’s chin and kissed the dead little girl on her head. “Angela, Aunty Jean has to go now. If you see one of God’s Angels- you take it by the hand and let it take you to heaven. Daddy and I will see you there one day soon.”
Something caught Constance’s eye. Around the girl’s neck was an expensive gold locket. It was just like that which was on Mrs Elsie Andrews’ neck. Elsie Andrews was the old lady from Blackwell’s previous case. Constance checked Angela’s chart and sure enough the name on it read ‘Angela Elsie Andrews.’
Constance then asked Jean, “Your Mother, is she dead?” Jean was surprised by the question.
“No, she is at my Brother’s house. This is him, Burney. She was helping him out while he took care of Angela.”
Constance nodded, “When was the last time you saw your Mother?”
“Two days ago, that was when I brought her medicine to her.”
Taddio was now on the same page as Blackwell, he inquired,“What was the medicine?”
Jean started to grow annoyed, “Look I know you have a job to do but this is really wrong. My niece just died, my husband died earlier tonight and now you are asking questions about my Mother. Fine, it was insulin, she was a diabetic. Hang on, isn’t that how my Husband died. You think that I took my Mother’s medicine to kill Connor?”
Taddio then turned to Burney Andrews, “Where did you get that money to pay for your daughter’s treatment?”
Jean turned slowly, realisation dawned on her leathery face. She stared at her brother, “Burney did you kill my husband to get the money to save your daughter.”
Burney stood up, his eyes never shifting from Angela’s still face, “Connor was an abusive ass, but, I did not mean to kill him. I took Mum’s insulin and injected him while he was passed out drunk at your house. I just wanted him to lose his boxing match so that I could bet against him. The odds against him losing were really high. I thought if I could get him to lose I could save Angela. I am sorry he is dead but I am not sorry that I did whatever I could to save her life.”
Taddio put his hand on Burney’s shoulder, “I am sorry to say that Connor was not the only person you killed. Your Mother had a fatal diabetic attack due to her not having medication. I am afraid that she passed earlier this evening.”
Burney’s eyes opened wide, his body shook and trembled. He was shaking his head and mouthing the word ‘no’ silently.
Jean Brennan walked over and started repeatedly slapping her brother, “You killed my Mother, I HATE you! I loved that woman and she loved you.” She kept slapping her brother until Taddio restrained her.
Constance reassured the grief stricken father, “Mister Andrews, there is no doubt that you committed a double homicide and that you will be tried for that but the given situation should inspire the court to be lenient.”
He looked at Blackwell with red rimmed eyes, “I don’t care about jail, I don’t care about me. I killed my mother and still my daughter died and it has all been for nothing. They can gas me for all I care, I am as good as dead anyway”
Armando then said, “Your daughter fought for her life, you must do the same. If only so there is someone on this planet who will always remember her and love her.” Andrews shoulders slumped and he resigned himself to his fate. He would live a full long life for Angela, it was all he could do now.
Taddio started to lead Burney Andrew’s away, “I am sorry, but we have to go now.” They walked away leaving Jean Brennan to lift a sheet and place it over the head of her niece.
The Next Morning at Grover Central Police Station
As a new day dawned the two tired officers finished their shift. Taddio stood outside the police station with an unlit cigar in his mouth staring at a world untouched by the tragedy of the night before.
The sun lit up the grey morning. The cars still sped by, mothers still yelled at kids in the back seats of land cruisers and young people still made their way home from their nights out while looking seedy. Armando just watched the human race power on like the perpetual machine that it was.
Constance walked out of the station glass doors and stood next to Taddio she joined him in watching life move on. She then reached into her pocket and took out a lighter. Wordlessly, she lit her friend’s cigar. She stood for another five minutes. She then pulled up her jacket hood, stuck her earphones into her ears and jogged off into the morning.
She hoped if she ran fast enough she could leave last night behind forever.
I hope you enjoyed this installment of The Taddio Mysteries. Things get much harder for Taddio and Blackwell in their next case The Case of The Crooked Cop. Please be sure to read it.
THE CASE OF THE CROOKED COP
The bar stank of sweat and desperation. Mary, the ancient barmaid, looked up at the suited banker who had just stepped in. He stalked through the room, not even looking at Happy. He was the drunken man who loudly argued an invisible adversary with whom he had an aggressive relationship with. The well dressed young man did not even glance at the two high haired beauticians who had crossed their legs and pushed their busts out to get his attention while they ogled him with lustful eyes.
Harry walked up to Mary and ordered a 'Tullamore Dew Whiskey.' She nodded and told him that it would cost five dollars. He smiled with pleasure. He then made his way toward the back bathroom. He went to a full length mirror and knocked the mirror five times. The mirror swung open and Harry walked through the portal.
There was a thin set of steel steps. The walls were of a dark brick punctuated with small depression era scone lamps. He got to the bottom of the steps and the sweat and blood filled the air. Men were screaming and shouting. Patrons clasped tickets and waived their arms.
Two men were in the centre of the room. The older man was shaky and trembling. He kept on swinging his fists blindly. His face was a mashed mass of red flesh. His eyes were swollen over, his lips massive while his hair was plastered in sweat and blood. His opponent was not looking pretty either. The challenger was a younger man with curly black hair. One of eyes was swollen over. The skin on his face was cut and blood flowed freely.
Harry screamed his support for the older man, hoping he could ensure a win through the psychic infusion of will and support. The support seemed too weak to make any difference. The older boxer was stumbling, his face was green and he seemed to be barely standing at all.
The older man swung a massive over arm punch, Harry called out, “Yeah!” The young man dodged it. He then pulled his fist back and jabbed the older boxer in the face. The stockbroker lifted his hands up and screamed out “No, No, No!” The older man fell. He then vomited. His eyes rolled back into his head and he began to fit. Suddenly his movement stopped.
A small bird like man rushed to the scene, he lifted up the left arm of the young kid, “The Winner and Champion is Jerry ‘The Jester’ Johnson." Tickets were thrown to the ground and the crowd turned surly. Soon enough a large dockside worker was angry with his buddy who brought him to the establishment and swung his fist.
The next thing the crowd were turning on each other. Fists flew as did furniture. Harry punched a book keeper who was pushed into him, he then went to charge a young university student when he tripped on the book keeper and fell to the stone floor. Two large security guards were trying to calm things down but ended up throwing punches and making the riot much worse. Angry men were dropping like flies. As the weaker ones fell, the stronger ones turned on each other and the fighting became deadly.
Suddenly the stairway was filled with police. The police using batons but soon patrons started to use weapons on them. Harry heard a cop scream “Tazers!” he decided to crawl out on the floor and make his exit. Just as he thought he was away a female cop tazered him and he blacked out.
Finally the cops managed to calm the riot down. One by one the patrons, boxers and organisers were taken away in cuffs. On the ground the older boxer lay amongst the tickets, dirt, broken furniture, blood and vomit.
He was not moving at all.
Earlier that evening
Constable Constance Blackwell took the file over to Detective Armando Taddio, “It says that this woman, Mrs Elsie Andrews died of natural causes but she didn’t. I rang her regular doctor and he said that his records show that he issued her medication and the pharmacy said it was dispensed. When I went through her personal effects there was no sign of the medication."
Constance flipped over the sheet in the file and continued, " I think someone took her meds and thus they killed her. There was a robbery at her house on the day of her death and it seems that they took her meds. Probably thought they were drugs that they could take or sell. Anyway these thieves killed her. The only inconsistency is that she was wearing a locket that was worth at least five hundred bucks but they left that on her. Maybe they did not see the locket.”
Armando nodded, he had already figured out that Mrs Andrews did not die of natural causes, he handed the case to his protégé to see if she would work that out.
She managed it even faster than he predicted she would, He complimented her, “Excellent, there is a rave on tonight and I suspect that the thieves were equipping themselves for it. We will drop by and see who is selling to whom and make some arrests.” As the two police started to ready themselves to leave the Chief interrupted them.
“Right boys and girls, we have had a tip that there is a bare fist boxing match being run by our favourite slime, Jackson Main a.k.a ‘ The Man.’ I am going to get that Shit and you Goat Lovers are all going to help me. We are all in this, there is going to be a drunken crowd who have been watching blood sport, aggression is more than bloody expected. There are going to be wannabe heroes tonight, so suit up. We are going to need a fucking army to take this Son of a Bitch down.”
Constable Blackwater grabbed her bullet proof vest and helped Taddio adjust his so it would fit around his girth. The vest wasn’t going to make it. Constance grabbed her scissors and slit the vest up the sides and popped it over her partner's head. She then used masking tape to secure it. The other cops laughed at the comical scene.
Constance glared at her co-workers threateningly and they hid their smiles. To distract Taddio from his humiliation she started chatting, “I wish the Chief did not speak like the illegitimate child of a prostitute and a sailor. Honestly I love the guy, but, I would just love to cut sick on his potty mouth with a cake of soap and some steel wool.”
Taddio and Blackwell joined their colleagues, adrenaline pumping through their veins, in heading to the raid on the home of the bare fist boxing matches- a seedy dive named Finnegan’s.
Later that evening the police were gathered outside the East side establishment. They hid in the shadows and watched a Mercedes turn up. A plain clothed detective named Young followed the target. a young well dressed professional man, in. He watched as the stock broker went over to talk to Mary the barmaid before going to the toilet. Young then hid in the corridor and heard the patron knock five times. The detective poked his head in the bathroom just in time to watch the mirror snap back into place.
Young went back and told the Chief, who was in middle of one of his motivational speeches, where and how they could enter the den.
The police formed a compressed unit of two by two to enter the premises. They stormed through the door the two lines of cops split apart and fanned out filling the bar with armed officers. Two cops dragged the beautician girls into a cop car and two other officers nabbed Mary and Happy, the drunken angry man. This part was done in silence. The operation was so efficiently enacted that Mary did not get the chance to hit the alarm button.
The cops entered the Men’s room, this time they formed a chain. They smashed the glass and threw down a smoke grenade. Their red targeting laser lights cut through the smoke. With their gas masks on they entered the den. There was a brawl that had already broken out. Detective Young ducked, just before a chair hit him in the head. Sadly, the Chief was not so fortunate and the chair collected him on the forehead. Despite his head gear the Chief was knocked over and spent the rest of the raid on his back in La, La land.
Young called out, “Batons and mace. Now!” The police dropped their guns and grabbed their batons and mace. Despite their efforts the crowd was in fever pitch. The police officers just excited the crowd. The blood flowed freely. Young was hit with a short metal pole.
Taddio called out, “Tasers!” The cops who heard him grabbed their Tasers. Several of the patrons and dockworkers hit the floor in trembling messes. The riot quietened.
The police dragged the patrons out, a little more roughly than they were supposed to. One by one the rioters were yanked up the narrow metal steps. Armando and Constance helped Young and the Chief.
The Chief came to and realised he missed all the action, “That really pisses me off. Get off me Taddio, how much do weigh? I am going to get my hands on Jackson Main and then I will personally rip off Jackson's bloody head and piss down his throat!”
Taddio muttered, “Charming Chief, your verbosity and eloquence is remarkable.”
The Chief stared at his most senior detective in a bewildered fashion, “Taddio, I may not understand a single fucking word you ever say but I understand the tone plenty. So- SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He marched off toward the narrow exit leaving his detectives to inspect the crime scene.
Constance watched her frustrated boss storm off. She was still shaky from having to Taser the stock broker guy, “I can forgive his swearing at this moment, this situation was truly F.U.B.A.R. Jackson Main will want to not get mouthy around the Chief at the moment!”
“F.U.B.A.R?” Taddio inquired with a raised eyebrow.
Constance smiled, “Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.”
“Ahh, I see- an excellent and impressive usage of an anagram Blackwell.” Taddio returned her grin.
Armando and Constance examined the underground den of Finnegan’s. The large Detective walked around the room. His eyes scanned the blood splatter, the puddle of vomit, the broken glasses and the busted furniture. The photographer took image after image. Each click brought a large flash of light that bleached the dark brick den.
Blackwell was surveying the scene she reconstructed the events of the night in her mind’s eye. She could see the two bare fist fighters, one large and experienced the other thin, fit and young. She could see each fist smashing into the other man’s face. The crowd crowding around yelling and shouting, she could see their faces aroused by the blood. The noise and violence drowning the senses and rob each participant of their core humanity. She could visualise the riot as if in slow motion.
There was something strange though.Finally she put her finger on it, “Shouldn’t there be a circle drawn on the floor?”
Taddio replied “It would appear as though in this instance this was an ‘Irish Stand Down.’ This is a a type of traditional bare knuckle fighting where the aspect of maneuvering around the ring is removed, leaving only the less nuanced aspects of punching and "taking" punches. This form of combat was popular in Irish American ghettos in the United States in the late 19th century but was eclipsed in the Irish American community first by bare knuckle boxing and then later by regulation boxing. It seems as though this industrious boxing promoter, Jackson Main, looked up the history books and brought back this form of fighting to 21st century Grover.”
Constance stopped and stared at her partner, her hands in the air in a gesture of surrender, “Taddio, is there anything you do not know?”
“My wife, 15 years I have been married to that woman and she is a complete enigma to me.”
Blackwell grinned “I love your wife, Taddio. She is my hero. Any woman who can keep you on your toes is a champion. Why are we here? It is obvious that Connor Brennan, the victim, was knocked out and killed in the fight.”
“I did not know you were a coroner Blackwell.” Constance felt abashed, it was true. They had yet to hear from the coroner. Nothing could be taken for granted until they did.
The Detective continued, “The best time to solve a crime is 24 hours after it has taken place. If we wait for the coroner to state whether a murder has or has not taken place, the trail gets cold. For example right now, our witnesses are all in the lock-up and we can question them. Soon it will be too late as they will lawyer up and more importantly sober up and we will get nothing from them.”
Constance took in everything her mentor was telling her. She knew she would not forget this lesson. She continued to investigate the room, “The problem with this crime scene is that everything looks dodgy and seedy and yet in a strange way nothing looks wrong.”
“You’re right Blackwell, I think that we have seen everything there is to see here. Let’s get back to the station and start the questioning. I hope you have had some coffee, this is going to take all night.”
Back at the station
Tthe Chief was in full voice. His station was full of drunk and bruised dock workers and other assorted people of the Grover Underworld. He had called in every cop at his disposal and they were all taking statements. The station stank like a pub and sounded worse. “Hurry up, find out what these assholes know. I want them charged and packed off to whatever flea hole or rat trap that they call home. The lock-up it full!”
Just then Happy the drunk suddenly stood on a chair and proclaimed “I am sick of your shit Percy! You keep giving me lip and I will knock you the fuck out!”
Mary, the barmaid, called out, “Happy, sit down mate. Percy's a wanker, he is a miserable sack of shit. I may never have seen him but I hate him too.” Happy sat down and continued to complain about Percy.
Constance whispered to Mary “Who is Percy?”
Mary replied in a hushed tone,“Nobody knows, but, we know that whatever he did, twisted Happy. Shame really, he used to be a nice bloke once. I suppose you will want to be talking to me then.”
Constance nodded and led the barmaid to an interrogation room. “Mary, give the lowdown on what happened tonight.”
Mary leaned back and stared straight into Blackwell's eyes,“I have worked at Finnegan’s for six years, we were going bust. Tom Finnegan was in a bind. His two ex- wives were gouging him stupid. Finnegan’s has been a part of the Eastside for over a hundred years and in that whole time it has been in Tom’s family. Our clientele was basically down to Happy and he is not that rich. Jackson Main ‘The Man,’ was a seedy little rat. One night offered to help Tom. The cost he demanded for getting Tom out the shit, was to run some underground boxing matches at Finnegan's.”
It was obvious to Constance that Mary had stronger feelings for Tom than an employee would normally have.
Mary continued, “He wanted to hold the matches in the hidden den that was under the pub. It was a left over from Finnegan’s less than legal past. Basically customers order a ‘Tullamore Dew’ off of me. If I think they aren’t cops I give them a price. This tells the customer the code for the night. Tonight it was five. The customer knocks on the toilet mirror the right amount of times and it opens. That is pretty much all I know. I don’t go into the den.” Mary put her shoulders out and stuck out her chin defying Blackwell to challenge her.
Blackwell was ready to let Mary go but before she did she wanted to ask about the body that was found on the floor.
Mary leaned forward as if she was letting Constance in on a secret, “I did know that bloke. His name was Connor Brennan. He was a good fellow, honest. He used to be a boxer in his younger years but slowly the fights dried up. He was too beat up to be much use to boxing. Jackson set him up in the bare fist boxing racket and you know what? Conner found his second wind. The old man used his experience and ability to take a punch and still stand to win, match after match. He was the Mohammad Ali of the bare fist boxing world. He was unstoppable. The punters loved him. The odds were never high on him but it was a guaranteed pay day. At least till today. I don’t know what went wrong tonight but I can tell you one thing. There is no way that kid should have beaten him. No way!”
While Blackwell was busy with Mary, Taddio was questioning Jackson 'The Man,' Taddio leaned in close to the accused and said in a quiet voice, “You are facing many charges Mr Jackson, however, I do not imagine that any of them will be difficult for you to overcome. Your record shows that you normally hire Barry Bale, he is a great defense lawyer. As good as he is, he can’t help you if you are found guilty of murder. You will do serious jail time. Right now I am your only friend.”
Jackson looked genuinely shocked “Murder, you can’t pin any murder on me cop. I don’t even know who is dead. I sure as hell didn’t kill nobody.”
Taddio nodded, then spoke, “I believe you. I am a good detective, I am not boasting when I tell you that I am the best. If you are innocent, I will prove it. If you didn’t do it then you need to help me figure out who did. Because, frankly, with your record and links to organized crime, the D.A. is going to come gunning for you.” Jackson squinted, he assessed Taddio. Clearly he believed the Detective.
Jackson looked around furtively to check if anyone beside Taddio could hear him, “Yes, I do run an illegal boxing competition- but man, it is not like I am selling crack. My boxers know the risks they run and they do it of their own free will. My bookies and clients know it is not legal but they keep turning up. People like Tom and Mary are able to keep the place running and have jobs. There is no harm and no foul. The truth is I never liked the idea of the match between Jerry Johnson and Connor Brennan. Connor was a war horse and nobody was able to beat him. I couldn’t find anyone who was willing to go toe to toe with him.”
Taddio bent forward, “If you did not set up this match, who did?” Jackson lit a cigarette swung back on his chair and then continued, “Connor himself came to me and begged, yes begged, for me to put that kid in that fight. I told him it was dangerous and that the weedy kid might get hurt but he wouldn’t listen. Connor is a good bloke who made me some cash, I owed him. The night of the fight though, he was off his game. He was sick and vomiting. I gave him some antacid. He was pale and trembling. Old Con insisted on fighting though.”
Just then the Chief burst in, “Jackson, you are in a world of shit now my little friend. In fact I would say that you are up shit creek in a barbed wire canoe without a paddle. The Coroner called, Connor was poisoned. I would love to see you and your slimy lawyer climb out of this one. I don’t know what this department is going to do with itself when it is not arresting you on a weekly basis. You know I am feeling good so I am going to get a celebratory drink. Taddio arrest this little Prick.”
Armando nodded “I will arrest him for running the boxing competition and the illegal gambling. I will even arrest him for public nuisance but I cannot finger him for this murder. Chief, could I look at the Coroner’s findings?” The Detective took the file and noted that Connor was murdered via a lethal injection of Insulin. The injection site was on his backside. The Chief’s mood was spoiled and he looked at Taddio with hostility before storming out.
Jackson was now desperate, “I had nothing to do with poisoning anybody. I told you Connor was like that when I got there.”
“You mentioned that Connor was desperate for this Jerry Johnson to fight, do you know why?” Jackson shook his head. “I don’t know, I did not get to where I got to by worrying about why people do what they do.” The Detective signaled for Jackson to be removed and asked the officer if he would get Jerry Johnson and Constance for him.
When Jerry was brought into the interrogation room, with Constance, he looked terrified. He did not even wait for the investigators to ask questions he just leaped in. “I just want to go home. This is the dumbest thing I have ever done. My parents are going to kill me!”
Blackwell nodded sympathetically and then said “It is okay Mr Johnston, everyone makes mistakes- just tell us what happened and we will get you home soon, okay?” The boy would have been quite good looking had his face not been mangled by his recent fight.
He was much smaller than the victim and it did not make sense that he was in the match at all, “Okay, I received a scholarship for University but I took a bit of pot and I was arrested for it and driving under the influence. I lost my scholarship and I was desperate to continue my studies. My parents were unable to help and part time work was hard to get. I knew I had to swallow my pride and ask my birth father for help. My biological father was Connor Brennan. He gave me some cash but it wasn’t enough. He told me of the boxing match and said that he could enter me in it. His plan was that he would take a fall and I could get the money from betting against him. Out of desperation, I agreed.”
Taddio looked at Blackwell and then said, “Mr Johnson, your father is dead. I am afraid and it would seem as though he was murdered, if you know anything about it you better tell me now.”
Constance was clearly surprised by this revelation but she kept mute and encouraged the petrified young man to continue, “Dead, murdered! Oh, my, God! I didn’t do it, I can’t believe Connor is dead. He has not always been the best father, but he did not deserve to die. Do whatever you can to figure out the bastard’s name who did this. I want to see them rot! I know you are going to ask me if I know anyone who might have killed him. His wife probably did. That Bitch has been sleeping around on him. He loved her though and wouldn’t leave. She is a nurse in an old people’s home, ‘Haven Home.’ If she did this, I want her peroxided ass to suffer!”
Later on that evening, the two police officers were in the midnight black 1967 Volvo. Constance sighed “Well, this case looks pretty open and shut. I checked the files and there were many domestic disputes involving the victim and his wife. She was beaten up a few times. The pictures of her injuries were not pretty. She never pressed charges and gave excuse after excuse about the bruises. I guess she had enough. He probably found out about her cheating and went too far. She in self-defense killed him. I can’t say I blame her.”
Armando was driving in his usual precise and careful way. “At the moment it does look easy. It would not be the first time that a domestic dispute has resulted in a homicide. Poison is often known as the females’ method of killing for a reason. Here we are.”
Inside Haven Home
Soon they were in the nurses’ break room with a small dyed blond woman with dried leather skin. She was not sad to hear of the demise of her husband, “Good, I am glad that Bastard is dead. I did not kill him though. I wanted to, plenty of times. “
Constance asked the woman where she was when the incident occurred and she said she was at home. Blackwell asked her if her husband was with her. She said that he was moving downstairs but she was upstairs taking a bath and she never saw him. Constance continued her line of questioning “ Do you have access to insulin?”
Mrs Brennan nodded, “I am a nurse, there is quite a bit of insulin around here.”
Taddio then asked, “It occurs to me as though there was nothing keeping you in the marriage, why did you not just leave Connor?”
Mrs Brennan stood up and went to look out one of the grimy windows of the break room, “I would have left him but I would have had no money at all. I am too old to start again, I am not pretty like I was. To leave him would mean being poor and alone.”
Constance put her hand on Mrs Brennan’s arm, “I am sorry but I am going to have to take you in.”
Mrs Brennan looked alarmed but she seemed co-operative, “I understand why you want to do this but I did not do it. Listen can you do me a favor? My niece is over at the General Hospital in the Tyler Ward. She is a little girl who is dying of leukemia. My brother was hoping he could get her into some program that is being run up state but we could not get the money together. I just want to say goodbye to her. She will probably be dead by the time we get this sorted. ”
Armando agreed that he would do this favor for her if she agreed to continue to be co-operative.
At the Tyler Ward, I.C.U. Unit Grover General Hospital.
Soon the party were at the general hospital and a tall angular man was in a heated exchange with Doctor Tame, a doctor that Taddio and Blackwell had met in a previous case. Jean Brennan indicated that the Tall man was her brother who was currently begging the Doctor, “It is not too late Doctor Tame. Here is the money, put Angela in the program.” Jean's brother kept trying to shove crumpled notes into the Doctors hands but he refused to take the money.
Tame did his best to look like a sympathetic human, “Sir, it is too late. Angela’s condition has worsened greatly since you were told about that program. She is no longer a candidate for the study. I am sorry. It is time to say goodbye. Angela needs you now. You are wasting what little time she has left arguing with me. I know you don’t want to let go but it is time.”
Constance undid Mrs Brennan’s cuffs and she ran over to the little thin girl who was drowning in a see of tubes, “Angela honey, can you hear me?”
The little girl opened her heavily shadowed large brown eyes, “Aunty Jean, have you seen Daddy?” The tiny patient’s voice was horse and dry. Constance grabbed a glass of water and put the straw into the girl’s mouth. Angela sipped and then signaled for the pan, she vomited up all of the water while Constance held her upright.
The man who had been arguing with Doctor Tame sat down next to his daughter’s bed, “Don’t worry Angie, Daddy is going to make the stupid doctor get you into that program in Metro City. We are going to catch a plane and leave. I am just going to pack your things.”
“Daddy, I don’t think I am going to Metro City, just hold me.” Her father put his arms around the skeletal shoulders of his little girl. Jean Brennan stroked Angela’s hand. “Daddy, tell me the story of our beach Christmas.”
The father gently kissed her head, his tears dampened his face, “Last year we went to see the sea. I rented a shack on the beach. There was you, me, Aunty Jean, Uncle Connor and Grandma. You played in the water until your skin turned blue and wrinkly.”
The little girl drew a thin smile at the memory and closed her eyes. Her father stroked the back of her bald head. “You were worried that Santa would not find us so we built a huge bonfire and threw your letter to Santa into the flames. Then a gust of wind blew across the beach and the partially burned letter blew high into the sky and flew over to the sea. It went all the way to the North Pole where Santa read it. He brought you a bright pink bicycle which sat under the tree on Christmas Morning.”
Just as her father finished the story the alarm went off on the E.C.G. Angela passed from this world in the loving arms of her family.
Blackwell wrapped her arms around Taddio’s neck and sobbed. His tears etched down his face unremittingly. Doctor Tame came over and turned the alarm off. The adults just wept and silently prayed for God to take the little princess into his heart and guide her to heaven.
After a while Constance went up to Jean, “I am sorry Jean but we have to go now.”
She nodded silently and went to Angela’s still body. She lifted up Angela’s chin and kissed the dead little girl on her head. “Angela, Aunty Jean has to go now. If you see one of God’s Angels- you take it by the hand and let it take you to heaven. Daddy and I will see you there one day soon.”
Something caught Constance’s eye. Around the girl’s neck was an expensive gold locket. It was just like that which was on Mrs Elsie Andrews’ neck. Elsie Andrews was the old lady from Blackwell’s previous case. Constance checked Angela’s chart and sure enough the name on it read ‘Angela Elsie Andrews.’
Constance then asked Jean, “Your Mother, is she dead?” Jean was surprised by the question.
“No, she is at my Brother’s house. This is him, Burney. She was helping him out while he took care of Angela.”
Constance nodded, “When was the last time you saw your Mother?”
“Two days ago, that was when I brought her medicine to her.”
Taddio was now on the same page as Blackwell, he inquired,“What was the medicine?”
Jean started to grow annoyed, “Look I know you have a job to do but this is really wrong. My niece just died, my husband died earlier tonight and now you are asking questions about my Mother. Fine, it was insulin, she was a diabetic. Hang on, isn’t that how my Husband died. You think that I took my Mother’s medicine to kill Connor?”
Taddio then turned to Burney Andrews, “Where did you get that money to pay for your daughter’s treatment?”
Jean turned slowly, realisation dawned on her leathery face. She stared at her brother, “Burney did you kill my husband to get the money to save your daughter.”
Burney stood up, his eyes never shifting from Angela’s still face, “Connor was an abusive ass, but, I did not mean to kill him. I took Mum’s insulin and injected him while he was passed out drunk at your house. I just wanted him to lose his boxing match so that I could bet against him. The odds against him losing were really high. I thought if I could get him to lose I could save Angela. I am sorry he is dead but I am not sorry that I did whatever I could to save her life.”
Taddio put his hand on Burney’s shoulder, “I am sorry to say that Connor was not the only person you killed. Your Mother had a fatal diabetic attack due to her not having medication. I am afraid that she passed earlier this evening.”
Burney’s eyes opened wide, his body shook and trembled. He was shaking his head and mouthing the word ‘no’ silently.
Jean Brennan walked over and started repeatedly slapping her brother, “You killed my Mother, I HATE you! I loved that woman and she loved you.” She kept slapping her brother until Taddio restrained her.
Constance reassured the grief stricken father, “Mister Andrews, there is no doubt that you committed a double homicide and that you will be tried for that but the given situation should inspire the court to be lenient.”
He looked at Blackwell with red rimmed eyes, “I don’t care about jail, I don’t care about me. I killed my mother and still my daughter died and it has all been for nothing. They can gas me for all I care, I am as good as dead anyway”
Armando then said, “Your daughter fought for her life, you must do the same. If only so there is someone on this planet who will always remember her and love her.” Andrews shoulders slumped and he resigned himself to his fate. He would live a full long life for Angela, it was all he could do now.
Taddio started to lead Burney Andrew’s away, “I am sorry, but we have to go now.” They walked away leaving Jean Brennan to lift a sheet and place it over the head of her niece.
The Next Morning at Grover Central Police Station
As a new day dawned the two tired officers finished their shift. Taddio stood outside the police station with an unlit cigar in his mouth staring at a world untouched by the tragedy of the night before.
The sun lit up the grey morning. The cars still sped by, mothers still yelled at kids in the back seats of land cruisers and young people still made their way home from their nights out while looking seedy. Armando just watched the human race power on like the perpetual machine that it was.
Constance walked out of the station glass doors and stood next to Taddio she joined him in watching life move on. She then reached into her pocket and took out a lighter. Wordlessly, she lit her friend’s cigar. She stood for another five minutes. She then pulled up her jacket hood, stuck her earphones into her ears and jogged off into the morning.
She hoped if she ran fast enough she could leave last night behind forever.
I hope you enjoyed this installment of The Taddio Mysteries. Things get much harder for Taddio and Blackwell in their next case The Case of The Crooked Cop. Please be sure to read it.
THE CASE OF THE CROOKED COP