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Chapter One Ethel Lamb

 

 

 

 

 

A

Predetermined

Course

Of

Events

by

Robert F. Clifton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Predetermined Course Of Events

 

Copyright 2018 by Robert F. Clifton

All rights reserved. No part of this book

may be reproduced or transmitted in

any form or by any means without

written permission from the author.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Table Of Contents

 

Chapter One….Ethel Lamb

Chapter Two….Autopsy And Questions

Chapter Three..Church, Streets And Alleyways

Chapter Four….Informants And Information

Chapter Five….,Chasing Leads

Chapter Six…….All the Pretty Girls

Chapter Seven….Suspects

Chapter Eight….Evidence

Chapter Nine…..The States Witness

Chapter Ten……Grand Jury

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Introduction

 

A cold November wind blew in and from across the vast salt Meadows that separated Nautilus Beach, New Jersey from the mainland. As it did Captain Robert Wallace, Commanding Officer of the police departments Major Crime Squad raised the collar of his overcoat in an attempt to protect his neck from the frigid air. He stood for a moment getting the wind direction.

Once he made a determination he put the wind to his back then knelt down to examine the dead body of a young Black girl.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

Ethel Lamb

 

A cold November wind blew in and across the vast salt meadows that separated Nautilus beach, New Jersey from the Mainland. It also blew over the City Dump of Nautilus Beach. As it did Captain Robert Wallace the Commanding Officer of the police departments Major Crime Squad raised the collar of his overcoat in an attempt to protect his neck from the frigid air. He stood for a moment judging the wind direction. Once he made a determination he put the wind to his back then knelt down to examine the dead body of a young black girl.

The first observation he made was that of a large dry puddle of what appeared to be blood next to the head of the victim. Body gas caused by the deteriorating and decomposing internal organs in the girls body escaped from the deep slash

In the victims throat. It appearing like cigarette smoke raising slowly into the air.

The girl lay face up. Her eyes were open. Her hair was cut close to her scalp like that of a boy. She was attired in a black quilted jacket, a green blouse and pink skirt. The skirt had been raised to her hips. Panties were absent as were stocking or socks. Soiled white tennis shoes were on her feet. Wallace stood then called to his squad members, “Look for a pair of female panties.” He then stood and took another look at the victims body. When he did he noticed yellow/brown scabs on the abdomen of the girl. Removing a small notebook and pen from the inside pocket of his blazer he made notes of what he had observed so far. He then began walking slowly around the body looking, searching, taking his time as he visually inspected

rusting tin cans, old newspapers, bottles and broken window glass. He stopped, looked down then knelt to get a better view.

A piece of glass, a large shard lay to the left of the victim. It appeared to contain what might be blood stains. Wallace stood and called to the forensic unit members. “Over here! I want a photograph taken of this piece of glass. Afterwards, dust it for latent prints,” he ordered.

Sergeant William O'Neil walked up to where Wallace stood watching the technician first photograph then lift and preserve the glass shard as evidence. Wallace turned and said,

“I'm heading back to headquarters. You are now in charge of the crime scene. When everything is finished you can shut it down, however make sure you get the names of everyone here, in particular the names of the forensic team.”

“No problem. Anything else?”, asked O'Neil.

“Yes, have McKenzie go with the body to the hospital morgue. While he's there have him get a day and time the pathologist will be conducting the autopsy. I want to be there when he does.”

“What about Hampton?,” asked the Sergeant.

“Hampton? Hampton?,” asked Wallace.

“He's the guy that found the body,” O'Neil replied.

“Oh, yes, of course. Right now I'm in no hurry to question him. Maybe we'll bring him in tomorrow or the next day. I'm more concerned about the girls time of death.”

Arriving back at police headquarters Captain Wallace entered the main lobby and walked to the office of Deputy Chief Harry Sweeney. Entering he spoke to the chief's secretary and asked to see the commanding officer in charge of line operations.

A few minutes later Wallace sat in front of the desk of Chief Sweeney.

“OK, what do we have Bob”, asked the Chief.

“Right now a dead Black girl who was murdered and possibly raped or abused.”

“How was she killed?”

“The killer slashed her throat probably with a sharp piece of glass.”

“Where?”

“Out near the city dump.”

“Any leads?”

“Leads? Hell, right now I don't even have a name.”

“What do you need?”

“Nothing at the moment but when I do I'll come calling.”

“No problem, within reason of course.”

“Alright, I'll keep you advised.”

“Please.”

“Talk with you later.”

Wallace walked out of the Chief's office and made his way to the elevator. He then traveled up two floors where the Major Crime Squads office was located. Entering he was met by his secretary, Mildred Cummings. “Is it bad?”, she asked.

“She was just a kid, fourteen maybe fifteen years old.”

“I see, oh the poor child.”

“Yeah,” he replied as he removed his overcoat and placed it on the clothes tree. “Is there any coffee?,” he asked.

“What's there is from this morning. I can make a new pot if you wish.”

“No, that's not necessary. If it's hot it's fine.

After pouring the dark and strong coffee into a Styrofoam cup Wallace carried it back to his desk. Once there he sat down then reached into the inside pocket of his blue blazer. Removing a small notebook he turned to Mildred and said, “Just as soon as I get my thoughts together we can start my initial report in this case.”

Mildred reached for her stenographers pad and replied, “Let me know when you're ready.”

When the office door opened Wallace looked up to see Sergeant O'Neil entering. “Did everything go alright?”, asked the Captain.

“Yes sir. I found tire prints about fifty feet from where the body was found. I had forensic make a cast of them.”

“Good. How about McKenzie?”

“Oh, he bitched a lot about having to go to the morgue with the body. He claims he always gets the shitty end of the stick.”

Ten minutes later Detective Tom McKenzie came into the office. Wallace looked at him and said, “Well, when is the autopsy and at what time?”

“Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock.”

“Good. Have you ever seen an autopsy?”

“No.”

“Well tomorrow will be your first.”

“Why me?”

“To learn and gain experience.”

“I rode all the way to the hospital morgue with that dead body. I can still smell her.”

“Is that what you consider getting the shitty end of the stick?”

McKenzie looked quickly at Sergeant O'Neil then at Captain Wallace. “Yes sir. I said that. It seems I get the dirty assignments.”

“Well as I see it many of us get what you call the shitty end of the stick. Sergeant O'Neil, before he was promoted probably thought that he got the shitty end of the stick many times. The same goes for me. I didn't enter police work as a Captain so as a young patrolman I think there were times when I got the shitty end of the stick. Mildred probably thinks she got the dirty end of the stick when she was assigned to me as my secretary. Now, I like my squad members to be happy. So, if you want to return to uniform, patrol just let me know. I'll transfer you in a minute. If not, then go the detective bureau and see if there is a missing person complaint on a teenage Black girl.”

“I want to stay Captain.”

“Good. I just gave you an assignments.”

Fifteen minutes later Tom McKenzie entered the Detective Bureau. When he did he was met by Detective Andrew Perry. “What's up?”, asked Perry.

“I need to know if there is a missing person complaint on file. She would be a Black female fourteen or fifteen years old.”

Perry walked to the list of on going complaints and cases. He then moved his index finger down the list and after a few minutes said, “Nothing here about any missing persons. Is this about that girl they found out near the city dump,” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Try talking to Sergeant Woodson, the head of the Juvenile Bureau. She might know something.”

“Thanks, I will.”

McKenzie then walked across the hall and entered the Juvenile Bureau. He was met by a police woman and asked to see Sergeant Woodson. A few minutes later Sergeant Woodson

asked, “What's on your mind?”

“Captain Wallace sent me to inquire about the girl that was found to be a victim of homicide out near the city dump. I check the missing person file and there was no mention of a missing teenage black girl. It was suggested that I ask you hoping you might be able to identify the subject.”

“I see. Describe her to me if you can.”

“She is a dark skin girl, maybe five feet tall and around a hundred and twenty pounds. She had a close cut hair style similar to a boy.”

“What was she wearing?”

“A black quilted winter jacket, a green blouse and a pink skirt.”

“I assume photographs were taken.”

“Yes, however, I don't think they're ready yet.”

“Well until I see them I'm willing to bet that the girl is Ethel Lamb.”

“Then you know her?”

“Oh yes. We have a file on her as thick as your arm.”

“Then I'll let the Captain know.”

“I suggest you have him call me.”

“I'll tell him that.”

Ten minutes later McKenzie reported to Captain Wallace.

“I see. Bill call down to the ID lab ask if the photos taken of the latest victim are ready. If they are make sure one is sent to Sergeant Woodson in Juvenile,” said Wallace.

By one o'clock that afternoon Wallace dialed the number for the Juvenile Bureau. When a police woman answered the telephone he identified himself and asked to speak to Sergeant Woodson. She answered with “Sergeant Woodson.”

“Hello Sergeant. I'm calling for a couple of reasons. First, have you viewed the photograph of the female victim found out by the dump today?”

“Yes I have.”

“Is that who you believed might be Ethel Lamb?”

“Yes, that's her. There's no mistake.”

“I see. Now my next reason for calling is to ask you to join me across the street at “Little Joe's Coffee Shop”. I haven't had lunch yet and I was hoping we could discuss what you know and have on record about Ethel Lamb.”

“Why can't we discuss it in your office or mine?”

“Because I'm both hungry and busy and at the same time I might need you to come in on this case.”

“Really? Why?”

“I prefer to explain why over lunch. So can we talk and eat at the same time?”

“How can I say no? You outrank me.”

“Fine. I'll meet you in the lobby.”

When Wallace stepped off of the elevator he saw Sergeant

Edwina Woodson standing in the lobby waiting for him. Woodson was tall, slender with skin the color of mahogany. She wore her black hair soft and long and had a thin nose and lips. Today she was attired in a dark blue suit which was covered by her long black winter coat.

After meeting the two walked out of the building and crossed the street to the small luncheonette known as “Little Joe's”. When they entered Wallace walked to the rear of the restaurant and selected a booth. After removing their coats they took a seat opposite of each other. “So, why is it so important that I join your squad working this homicide?,” asked Woodson.

“I recall that when I was Director Of Training you were an excellent student in your class at the Police Academy. As the commanding officer of the Juvenile Bureau you probably know more about Ethel Lamb than anyone. I need your knowledge. Now, at the same time I also know that the Black community in this

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