The Wives Of Edward Denbre, Robert F. Clifton [recommended reading .TXT] 📗

Chapter One Street Buy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE WIVES

OF

EDWARD DENBRE

by

Robert F. Clifton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Wives Of Edward Denbre

Copyright 2015 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.

 

The reader is advised that this is a work of fiction. Any similarity to names of persons, places or events is purely

circumstantial....R. F. Clifton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedicated To The Memory

Of

John Wallace Clifton

1871- 1944

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Introduction

 

Edward Denbre had grown up in foster homes. As he grew and matured he had one desire, to be wealthy. Knowing that his only asset was his keen mind and handsome looks he decided to become a con artist. He saw older widowed women as easy targets.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Table Of Contents

 

Chapter One....Street Buy

Chapter Two....Romancing The Widow

Chapter Three. The Plan

Chapter Four.... Paris

Chapter Five..... Number Three

Chapter Six....... Zion

Chapter Seven...Meeting Joyce Palmer

Chapter Eight....Aspiration

Chapter Nine......Shelter Bay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

Street Buy

 

A light, but steady rain fell and at times was carried on the February wind that blew in from the ocean and across the sandy beaches and boardwalk of Atlantic City, New Jersey. When it did, sudden blasts of raindrops pelted the windshield of the 2004 Bentley driven by Edward Denbre. As he drove slowly down the wet streets of the resort city he looked for the man he was supposed to meet at ten o'clock. At the same time,he nervously glanced at the clock mounted in the dashboard of the automobile. He didn't want to be late. At that moment he didn't even know the name of the person he was to contact. He only knew that the drug dealer would be standing on the corner of Congress and Pacific Ave. and he was to say to the man, “Nice Weather”. The contact would then offer various drugs for sale, including marihuana.

Edward wasn't interested in grass. What he wanted was Oxycontin and if possible eighty milligram tablets if he could get them. Since this was his first time buying narcotics and prescription drugs on the street he could only guess what the price would be. As he drove he reached up with his right hand and touched the two, one hundred dollar bills neatly folded and placed in his shirt pocket.

He slowed, then stopped for the red traffic light. Up ahead he saw someone standing on the corner. When the light changed he drove slowly to where a bareheaded, slightly damp young man stood. Denbre pushed the button that lowered the passenger side window and said, “Nice Weather”.

“Nice your ass. I'm standin here waiting for your sorry ass to show. You better be making me standin here in the rain worthwhile. What you after man?”

“Oxycontin. Eighty milligram if you've got it”, Denbre replied.

“I got it. Cost you fifty dollar a pill. How many you want?”

“Two”.

“Let's see the hundred.”

Edward removed the hundred dollar bills from his shirt pocket, removed one from the other and showed it to the dealer.

“Cool”, said the dealer when the drug and money was exchanged. “You want to buy from me again you go through the same guy. Got it?”He then walked off into the night walking close to buildings trying to stay out of the rain.

As Edward drove off a state of paranoia came over him. This had been the first time in his life that he had met and dealt with a drug dealer. “Were the police in the area, staked out, watching the transaction?”, he thought to himself as he nervously

Looked into the rear view mirror. He slowed the Bentley as he approached a slow moving, marked patrol car, the police officer driving was using a flashlight, shining the light into the interior of retail businesses closed for the night. Once past the radio car he increased the speed then going twenty miles an hour, the required speed limit within the city.

When he reached the city limits he increased his speed as he drove on to Route Forty, the road that took him out through the marshland and to the cheap motels that has been built along this stretch of road right after World War Two. As the windshield wipers moved back and forth removing the constant rain drops that formed on the glass he was able to see a blinking, red, neon sign, that read, “Vacancy”. He slowed, then entered the motel driveway, hearing the sound his tires made as they rolled over crushed stone. Stopping in front of the office he turned off the ignition and got out of the automobile. In the rain he made his way to the office door.

When he entered the office he immediately saw a portly, balding man seated in an old office chair watching television on an ancient, black and white set. Hearing the office door open and the sight of a man entering the room the man stood up. “Good evening. I was just about to turn off the sign and turn in. I had to catch ten o'clock news first. I suppose you'll be wanting a room,” said the man behind the small counter.

“That's what I'm here for”, said Edward.

“Are you alone or is there someone with you?,” asked the manager.

“I'm alone”.

“Sign the register. That will be twenty dollars. You got until eleven o'clock tomorrow morning to check out or you pay for another day. Here's the key to number seven. Miserable night, isn't it?” asked the man as he watched Denbre sign the register.

“Yeah. Thanks,” Edward replied as he turned and left.

Denbre parked the Cadillac in front of Cabin Seven. Before leaving the dry interior of the car he pushed the button that opened the trunk lid. When it opened he exited the automobile, walked to the trunk and removed a dark blue, over night bag. He closed the trunk lid then pushed the remote on the car key which locked the four doors and made his way to the cabin door. As he stood, unlocking the door, drops of cold rain dripped off of the roof onto his head and ran down the back of his neck. The result of a natural reaction to the cold water made him twist and turn his head as he urgently turned the key in the lock and forced the door open. When he entered the room he dropped the over night bag onto the floor and walked quickly to the bathroom. There, he took a towel off of the rack and dried his head, face and the back of his neck. Afterward he stood looking at the bathroom. The first thing he looked for was the lighting over the sink. He reached for and turned on the wall switch and when the lights came on over the bathroom mirror and in the ceiling he was satisfied. He returned to the bedroom and removed his damp winter jacket letting it drop to the floor.

There was only one chair in the room, an old wooden, kitchen type chair with chipped, light green paint. He picked it up and carried it into the bathroom. After placing the chair where he wanted it he returned to the bedroom and retrieved the over night bag. That too he carried into the bathroom. After taking a seat in the chair he opened the canvas bag and removed a mortar and pastel and placed them on the counter top.

Subconsciously, he was still paranoid and being so turned and looked over his shoulder gazing at the empty bedroom as if he thought someone might be there watching. When the feeling passed he turned back to the counter and removed the two Oxycontin pills and the one hundred dollar bill from his shirt pocket. He dropped the pills into the mortar and began to crush them into a fine, powder. When he was satisfied with the consistency of the Oxycontin he then placed two Theolair tablets in with the crushed powder. Each Theolair tablet consisted of two hundred and fifty milligrams of Theophylline used for chronic lung problems. He then proceeded to crush them, mixing the two drugs together. When he was finished he carefully transferred the mixture from the mortar to a clean, iodine, colored, plastic vial. He then secured the cap in place and put the vial into the over night bag. After carrying the bag back into the bedroom he returned to the bathroom, soaked a hand towel in the bathroom sink then after wringing the excess water from it used the towel to removed any traces of the two drugs that might have escaped as he used the pestle. At the same time he removed any fingerprints he might have accidentally left in the room. In case his plan failed he didn't want any trace of the Oxycontin in his home or that he prepared the preparation here in the motel room.

Denbre then placed the hundred dollar bill in his wallet, put on his jacket, damp now, picked up the over night bag and left the motel room, leaving the lights on.

He had counted on the fact that the motel manager would be either too lazy to go outside in the rain and verify the license plates on the Cadillac or really didn't care what the customer wrote in the registration book. He had entered the letters A,B for Atlantic County and the numbers 360, N.J. a made up license number that if there was such a registration wasn't his. As he walked to his car he looked towards the managers office and saw that the neon sign and office lights had been turned off. Edward entered the automobile, tossed the over night bag on to to the front passengers seat, started the car, backed out of the parking space and drove off. Once on Route Forty he headed back to Atlantic City.

By the time he arrived at the building that housed his condominium the rain had let up. Still, a misty precipitation was being carried on the night breeze which meant the need of the windshield wipers. As he drove into the parking area under the complex he turned the wipers off and slowly made his way to the reserved parking space with the name, DENBRE painted in white. After exiting and locking the automobile Edward walked to the elevator and took it to the top floor where he and his wife Edwina lived in the penthouse. He stepped off of the elevator, walked to the apartment door, unlocked it and entered. After closing the door he stood in the foyer not moving, listening, waiting to hear Edwina's voice. All was quiet. She was still asleep from the sedative he had given her earlier in the evening.

Walking slowly and quietly he made his way to the thermostat on the wall. He turned on the light which allowed him to see the numbers on the dial. He then moved the setting from seventy two to eighty. After that he took a seat in his favorite chair in the living room. Once he was comfortable he sat and waited.

Edward James Denbre was a tall, muscular, handsome man. He stood at six feet tall and weighed a hundred and eighty pounds. Blue eyes and brown hair accented his fair skin and at age forty one he appeared ten years younger. He had been born in Philadelphia on January 27, 1974, mother and father unknown or at least unknown to him. He was raised in several foster homes, He left them when he was eighteen years old and married Julie Anders, a hooker he pimped from time to time. Julie died as a result of an overdose of heroin and he wanted to kick himself in the ass for not having a life insurance policy on her. That was a lesson well earned and would turn out to be an asset later in his life.

He held several menial jobs getting fired from some or quitting others.