McKenna, Robert F. Clifton [books to read for 13 year olds txt] 📗
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- Author: Robert F. Clifton
Book online «McKenna, Robert F. Clifton [books to read for 13 year olds txt] 📗». Author Robert F. Clifton
“What for? I ain't done nothin. If you say I did, then it's a trumped up charge”.
“You are Frank Bitterman aren't you?”, asked Hamilton.
“Yeah so what?”
“Did you or did you not serve time in the Kentucky State Prison?” asked Roy”.
“This is what this is all about? My record? You guys love picking on ex-cons don't you?”
“Did you ever register in Mainland Township as a sex offender?”, asked McKenna.
“Maybe, I don't remember. I might have. If not, I haven't got around to it yet. I'm a business man. Got a lot of things on my mind”.
“O.K. you've stalled long enough. Get your shirt and coat or you can go the way you are”, said Kevin.
“And, if I don't?”
“Then after they treat you at the hospital you will be charged with obstruction of justice, and probably resisting arrest”, said Hamilton.
“Hospital? Did you hear that Jimmy. They're threatening me with bodily harm. You call my lawyer. Tell them what they just said. O.K. hotshots, I don't need no shirt or coat. Let's go and I'm tellin you both that I intend to sue your ass when this is over”
Arriving at headquarters in Nautilus Beach Bitterman was taken immediately to an interrogation room. Once there and seated he was given his rights under the Miranda law, offered a cup of coffee which he refused and was then questioned.
“Mr. Bitterman I'm not going to beat around the bush. You know how the game is played. You give me what I want and I might, might, give you not only what you want, but what you need. What I'm saying is let's not bullshit one another. Do you understand?”, asked McKenna.
“Yeah”, Bitterman answered.
“Alright, here's what we know. You're operating a flea bag hotel housing derelicts, mostly from Philadelphia. We also know how you're getting paid to do it. What we want to know is your connection with the late Charles Barnett”.
“We were business partners”.
“How?”
“The Barnett's own the old Flemington Hotel. In return for me bringing in the homeless from Philly I got the building rent free and all of the money I could get out of social security and pension checks.”
“What was the reason for you to bring in the homeless to this area?”, asked Kevin.
“You know damn well what the reason was. Charlie wanted the new casino bill defeated in Trenton”.
“That's right, but what about Steven Barnett?”, asked McKenna.
“Actually, he was a pain in the ass in the operation. He and Charlie argued all the time. Steven wanted to turn the Regal into the first casino in Nautilus Beach. Charlie was against it”.
“Everyone knows that Frank. Give me something that I don't know”.
“Did you know that Steven wanted to shut me down? He wanted to close the Flemington, gut it, renovate it and when it was finished, give it to his good friend, the Reverend as a present. It was to become the new Mission House, complete with rooms, baths, a professional kitchen and elevators. To them it would be the Taj Mahal for the homeless. Steven would become famous as a great humanitarian and his friend a famous clergyman”.
“Interesting, but that doesn't tell me why anyone would want to kill Charlie Barnett”, said Kevin.
“What do you need, a road map? Charlie owned fifty one per cent of the Barnett hotel business. That makes him chairman of the board of directors. The rest of the board members were hand picked by Charlie. That meant that anything and everything that Steven proposed, could be and was stopped by Charlie unless he was for the idea. So, if you ask me if anyone wanted Charlie Barnett dead it's his brother, Steven”.
“For what, being opposed to Steven's ideas?”, asked Hamilton
“Exactly, I don't have to tell you what a gambling casino makes in a year. Imagine what the take from the only game in town would be. Charlie was in the way and wouldn't budge. Now, that's all I've got to say. My lawyer should be arriving any minute now so if you're going to pin that bullshit charge of not registering on me do it now so I can make bail and get out of here”.
“I'm not going to charge you. Actually you don't reside in my town. Nonetheless, Mr. Hamilton has jurisdiction over you. I don't know what he has in mind”, Kevin replied.
“Let me explain the law to you Frank. Sex offenders who have been convicted since October 31, 1994 or who were serving a sentence on the effective date of the law are required to register. Sex offenders who have been found to be repetitive and compulsive by experts and the courts, regardless of the date of the conviction are required to register. Do you understand?”, asked Roy Hamilton.
“I admit that I was convicted. The charge was promoting and permitting prostitution. I served my time and I have not been what you call repetitive”.
“Frank, Frank, Frank, News Years Eve you were partying at the Regal. I've got you, your goons and three hookers known to us seated at your table on video tape. In addition, you paid Minerva Hollingsworth, also know as “Minnie the Moocher” one hundred and twenty five dollars plus dinner and drinks that night in return for sexual favors. She's already given us a statement. To us, that's promoting prostitution. Like I said, what happens to you now is up to Mr. Hamilton”.
“Cheer up Frank. I'm sure you and I can come to an understanding, such as you testifying for the State of New Jersey if we need you. Right?”, asked Hamilton.
****************
On Wednesday night at eight P.M. Kevin dialed Whitney's telephone number. “Hello?”, she said when she answered.
“Hello. Remember me? How are you?”, he asked.
“Busy. They're putting in a new curriculum and I'm making up lesson plans. How are you?”
“I've been busy too”.
“Did you call for a specific reason or just to talk?”
“I guess you could say it's a specific reason. I'm wondering if you'd like to take in dinner and a movie tomorrow night?”
“I'm sorry, but I must get these lesson plans finished. Some other time perhaps”.
“I understand. You take care. Goodby”.
For the rest of the evening Kevin continued reading “The Collected Cases of Injustice Rectified.” At eleven fifteen he got up went to the telephone on his desk and dialed the number for the Security Office of the Regal Hotel”.
Answering the ringing telephone Sheila McCormick answered, “Hotel Security. May I help you?”
“Yes. If you are still off tomorrow night you can have dinner with me followed by a movie”, said Kevin.
“You're serious?”
“Definitely”.
“Then my answer is yes. What should I wear? Where are we going? What time will you come for me?”
“Kevin laughed. Slow down. I have a nice little cozy place in mind so you can dress casual. The movie starts at eight and I'm afraid that you'll have to give me your address. Once you do that I'll be there about six thirty. How's that?”
“That's fine. Good by”
“Wait! Waite! Give me your address”.
“ Oh. I'm sorry, nine north Congress Avenue”
“O.K. and make sure you get some sleep I don't want you falling asleep on me at the table”., he said as he hung up the telephone.
Chapter Nine
Talons
To Kevin McKenna the dull gray, winter months of 2014 seemed to drag on without any results. At the same time he still waited for the results on the plexiglass shards sent to the F.B.I. lab in Quantico Virginia. To him it appeared as though they were dragging their feet. Now, months later and in April he sat in the office of Captain Carol Myers who wanted an update on the two homicides he was investigating. He sat silently and uncomfortable as she read his latest reports. Finally, she looked up from the papers and said, “Now that I've read your reports what else have you got to tell me? Before you go into excuses I already know that you are still waiting to hear from Quantico. So? What else do you have to say?”
“When you mention Quantico, that deals with hopefully identifying the murder weapon. I've made several telephone calls to the Bureau there and all I've been told is that the plexiglass I've submitted was manufactured in the United States. It seems that they are still exploring. As I mention in my reports we with the co-operation of the county have Frank Bitterman along with some persuasion willing to testify as a witness for the state in the dealings between Charles Barnett and himself”.
“Why is that so important?”, asked the Captain.
“First of all because I believe the motive for killing Charles was his constant attempts to have the casino bill fail to be passed in Trenton”.
“You established that fact months ago”, said Myers.
“True, but months ago I didn't have a suspect”.
“And, now you do?”
“Yes Mam. As a matter of fact I have two in mind”.
“Who?”
“Steven Barnett and Howard Simon”.
“Why? You've told me this before. I hope you have a reason”.
“Again two reasons. First, the casino bill. With Charles dead and out of the way Steven could and would own and operate the only casino in Nautilus Beach”.
“Old news Sergeant”.
“On the early morning of his brothers death Steven arrived at the crime scene demanding to see his brothers body”.
“Nothing wrong or out of place there”, Myers replied.
“Yes there was. Charles Barnett's body was discovered by a New Years Eve patron who notified the police using a cell phone.
The police responded and protected the scene. Next, I was called in as was members of my unit. So, since only the witness that found the body and the police protecting the body were the only people at that time that knew that a. There was a death and b.
there was a murder, how did Steven know where his brother was and how did he know that his brother was dead?”
“You say in your report that Steven asked to see his brother because someone had told him that his brother had been injured”.
“Yes Mam. And, I also suggested that he go back to the hotel and call his sister-in-law and inform her that her husband was dead. When I said that to him Steven didn't bat and eye. He never asked why, or how, or when his brother died. Why didn't he? Simple he already knew Charles was dead because he or someone else killed Charles Barnett”.
“Someone else? Is that what you base your conspiracy idea on?”
“Yep. And, that goes back to the Flemington Hotel in Mainland Township”.
Captain Myers closed the manila envelope that contain McKenna's reports. “Alright. I think you've got something there. Stay with it and let me know if you need anything”.
“Thank you Mam”.
“You're welcome.”
On Sunday, April 19, 2014 Kevin met Sheila at Saint Mary's
for mass. Now, as in the past few weeks they had breakfast after services at the Tom Thumb Restaurant. People, both at the church and the restaurant were now use to seeing the couple together and would greet them. Even the waitress that served them every Sunday morning would say, “The usual?” and write down bacon and eggs, scrambled and over easy”. Kevin and Shelia would then talk over breakfast and when finished he would drive her home. He had even met Shelia's mother who was happy knowing that her daughter was seeing a nice Irish, Catholic boy.
After taking Shelia home Kevin drove to the condo, parked the car and took the elevator to the sixth floor, As he was unlocking the door he heard the telephone ringing and quickly went to the desk in the living room. “Hello?” he said.
“ I was just about ready to hang up. Where were you?”, asked Whitney.
“Church and then I went to breakfast”.
“I see. It's going to be a nice day. I was wondering if you would like to do something, maybe go some place?”
“Won't you be tied up at the Mission House”?
“Not until late afternoon”.
Kevin glanced at his wristwatch, noticed the time and said, “Well it is a nice day, but to tell you the truth, it's Sunday. That means not too many places are open and
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