Detective Matthews in "FRANKLY TWISTED"

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
The same day Detective Fisher found out the truth about his brother's murder was around the same time that Homicide expert Frank Matthews got away. Now in his own words, Frank Matthews recounts a story 10 years prior about a murder which led him to murder. Through a first person narrative, readers get a chance to delve into the mind of Frank Matthews as they finally understand the madness behind the madness. A peculiar man by nature, Matthews proves that he is nothing short of an enigma. Truly someone that is "FRANKLY TWISTED!"

Submitted: October 19, 2012

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Submitted: October 19, 2012

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  Introducing: Flowered Concrete Publishing©

Kevin11 & FCP© Present: 

Detective Frank Matthews

in

FRANKLY TWISTED”

Intro

Let me make this clear. Quite frankly, I’ve been a twisted individual for as long as I can

remember. I think it all goes back to when my mother dropped me on my head as a baby; but

that bit of information is irrelevant. . Anyway, where are my manners? Allow me to introduce

myself… I go by the name of Matt Frank, formerly known as Detective Frank Matthews of Parkside

Brooklyn’s,  23rd precinct. I’m currently located on a tropical island sipping a well-stirred

margarita just 24 hours removed from  Valentine’s day. I can’t tell you exactly where, because if

I did, I’d simply have to kill you. The sun is currently out and shining while cops in New York are

left with the task of  cleaning up my bloody mess. How long will it take for Fisher to figure it out?

Here’s my response: Doesn’t matter.  It’s no longer my problem that’s for sure. His brother

brought it upon himself. I’ll soon turn 66 this spring and I need to enjoy every precious minute

on earth before I eternally rot in hell. But just remember that behind every movement, there is a

reason for madness…So now, before I bring you up to speed…let me take you back to where it

all started.  About 10 years ago, 1993…

It was a Friday night, February 16th, and I had just pulled up to my usual spot.

After a long hard day of work I always went to the “Trash Bar.”

“Frankie,” said the bartender as I walked in.

“Timmy,” I replied as I took a seat at the bar.

“What will it be?” he asked.

“Give me a Long Island iced tea with rum and please don’t water it down,” I

told him.

“Anything for you Frank,” he said as he delivered my drink.

“What’s been going on my man?” I asked as I surveyed the scene.

“Nothing much Frankie. I’ve just been having problems getting it up with

Stace,” he said, as he put a fist under his chin and leaned upon the bar’s

counter.

“A little bit of Viagra will clean that right up,” I told him.

“Awww it’s nothin,” he replied as he wiped an empty glass. He then

continued, “That’s the price I get for going out with a 26 year old house realtor. I

guess she likes the sugar I’m holding. And you know what they say Frankie, the

blacker the berry—”

“The sweeter the juice,” I replied as I finished the content of my drink.

“You’re a fool Timmy,” I added.

We then erupted in laughter.

In the midst of our laughter, my pager started to go off.

“Awww shit, what could this man possibly want at 3 in the morning?” I whined.

“Oh boy, another case?” asked Tim as he took the empty glass and stared at

my pager.

“Yeah, where’s your phone Tim? I gotta call that son-of-a-bitch Gordon.”

“It’s right down the hall. Just bust a left once you reach the men’s restroom.”

“Thanks,” I said.

As I reached the phone, I quickly returned Gordon’s call from the 23rd precinct.

“Hello?” said a man in a brisk tone.

“Good morning, how may I be of help at this hour?” I replied stiffly.

“Matthews, there’s been a murder at the Bedford-Stuyvesant housing

projects. At 2 a.m. this morning a drug dealer by the name of Evan Wright was killed.

My guess is that the drug pushers within the area had something to do with it.”

“Give me the address,” I told him.

“1120 and Bedford Avenue,” he said.

“Ok, I’ll be there first thing in the morning,” I replied.

“Detective Alvin Alvin has already been informed and he’ll meet you there as

well.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you Gordon, I don’t need no damn partner!”

“Detective Alvin Alvin is one of our best and you two have been working well

together  for the past 5 years so don’t give me this bull---“

“That’s because you’ve got the kid following me around like paparazzi and---“

“Enough!” yelled Captain Gordon.

“I’m tired of you always complaining about the kid. He does great work and as

long as you’re under my watch you’re stuck with him understand?”

“Do you understand?” commanded Gordon in a voice of authority.

“Yes,” I said with contempt.

“Good.”

“See you tomorrow,” I said in resent.

“Bye,” he replied coldly.

  Just filling you In:  As I hung up the phone, I couldn’t help but think how much I hated Captain James Gordon. We had both gotten into the 23rd precinct at the age of 25 and by the time we were both 40, the police commissioner decided to make him Captain within our precinct instead of me. The result of that was a deterioration in a once close friendship. I mean, the man is my age for Christ’s sake. So why the hell should I call him Captain? There is never a day that I call him that. And so, as I put the phone back onto its wall-jack behind the counter, I said a quick goodbye to Tim as I went out the door…

The next day I pulled up to the spot of the crime scene in my 1982 Honda Accord. “So what if I drive a shitty car? You can’t expect to live the lavish life when you’ve got Gordon calling the shots. I swear on my life that the position he holds should be mine…In that precise moment, Detective Alvin pulled up behind me in his new 1992 Lexus. As he exited his car I noticed he was wearing an ocean blue trench coat, suede shoes, Calvin Klein jeans and black Fendi sunglasses as he approached me. He was a very good looking black man at the age of 32.”

“How are you Frank?” he asked, as he locked his car door.

“I’m okay and you?” I asked.

  I don’t care: To be honest, I really didn’t give six shits on how he felt.

“I’m alright,” he replied. “I think Captain Gordon is waiting for us by the building.”

“Yeah, he is,” I replied uninterestedly.

“Let’s go see what we’ve got,” he said.

As we approached the front door of the project building, Gordon greeted us and

led us to a side alley of the housing unit.

“What do we got here?” I asked as me and Alvin made our way past the

 Do-Not-Cross yellow crime scene tape.

“Evan Wright,” said Coroner Murray as the forensic photographer took pictures

of the corpse. He then continued, “A 20 year old drug dealer, shot three times in the

head. Possible 9 millimeter bullet wounds and literally broken in two from the hip

down.”

“Where is he?” asked Detective Alvin as he cringed at the Coroner’s description.

“In there,” said Gordon reluctantly as he pointed towards the dumpster.

Alvin and I then proceeded towards the dumpster. The eyesight wasn’t pretty as

Wright was literally broken in two so that his torso was disconnected from the

lower region of his body. The lifeless Wright was also left naked with three gun shot

wounds to the forehead giving him the resemblance of a human bowling ball.

As Alvin finally ripped his eyes off the disturbing sight he managed to ask,

“Any ideas on who could have done this?” asked Alvin.

“No, not really but whoever did it wanted him worse than dead. Our guess is that

 they used a machete to cleanly saw him in half,” said Coroner Murray as he began

to extract body samples with blood and placed them within a forensic plastic bag.

Realization: It had just only hit me on who this kid happened to be. Evan used to be a drug runner for Ron Mercer, the Kingpin of BedStuy’s drug movement. It left me amazed as to what the kid could have done to have ended up in such a terrible state. Also, my nephew Chauncey worked for this Mercer. I had to get to the bottom of it as quickly as I could…

“Matthews! Alvin! You both are to report as quickly as you can to the precinct in

order to get an investigation of suspects underway. By Monday, I want you guys out

there in as many places as possible to see if you can resolve the matter,” said Gordon.

“Sure thing Cap,” said Alvin.

“You got it,” I said as we left the gruesome crime scene and headed towards our

cars.

“I’ll meet you back at the precinct Frank,” said Alvin.

“I’mma go get something at home first,” I replied.

“But Frank, it’s not even noon yet. This is not the time for a break,” said Alvin

sternly.

I had then stopped dead in my tracks to set him straight. Once I turned around, I let him have

it.

“First off, watch your tone when talking to me boy,” I said calmly.

“Secondly, I’m old enough to be your Papi so don’t tell me what I can and can’t

do.

“Thirdly, I don’t like you. I never have, and I never will. I just hate everything

about you from your well-liked personality, your G.Q. appearance and that stupid

name your mother gave you.

“Honestly, who names their kid after their own last name. Alvin Alvin? Really? So

don’t question me boy. I’m going home and I’ll meet you at the precinct within an

hour, got it?”

“Got it,” said Alvin as he quickly went to his car.

Case Solved:As I watched him pull off I had to go see Chauncey. By no means did I want him involved within this murder rap. And so, as quickly as I had gotten into my car, I proceeded to make my way to East 21st between Rogers Avenue and Cortelyou Road. When I arrived at 21st and Rogers, I quickly made my way to apartment 4D.

As I knocked on the door someone said,

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Big Matthews!” I answered.

“Big Matthews, what’s up man?” said the guy who opened the door.

“Nothing much, can I come in?” I asked.

“Yeah, sure,” he said as he shut the door behind me.

“Where’s Lil’ Matt?” I asked.

“Oh, he went out to get something for Ron. He’ll be back.”

“Where’s Mercer?” I then asked.

“He’s in the back.”

And as I made my way into a dark room, I saw Mercer who was all alone counting

money to his own pleasure.

“Ayyy,” he said as I shook his hand.

Ron was a stubby black man who stood about 5’6, had bad wrinkles across his

forehead and looked as if he had sniffed white for years. His eye bags gave hints that

he had been sleep deprived for days. To top it all he was gang affiliated. Ron always

wore a blue bandana forever showing his loyalty and allegiance to the crips.

“How can I be of service to you Big Matt?” he asked.

“Where’s Chauncey?” I asked.

“He should be here any minute,” said Mercer. “I sent him to collect some

 money of mine on Beverley and Nostrand.”

As Ron Mercer finished telling me this, it was then that his doorbell rang.

“In fact, I think that’s him now, Jake go check the door.”

As quickly as he could, Jake ran to the hallway and soon returned with Chauncey.

Chauncey happened to be the son of my deceased little brother Lucas Matthews. He

was a mischievous kid who I could always remember getting in trouble even on his

days at the playground. He stood about 6’1, was brown skinned, hard-faced and wore

a high afro that could’ve put him in the 70’s. He also had a few strands under his chin

that I always poked fun of to go along with an affinity for toothpicks.

“What brings you here unc?” he asked as I embraced him in a hug.

“I wanted to have a talk with you three,” I said.

“I’ve got some time, I’ll finish counting the rest of this loot later,”

said Mercer as he stuffed the cheese into an old shabby drawer.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“Evan’s dead,” I told him as I waited in a long dreary silence.

”So?” he asked when he eventually spoke.

“Why is that?” I asked patiently.

“Because he deserved it!” he yelled as he banged his fist upon the wobbly

wooden table that he leaned against.

“First off, calm down,” I said as I proceeded to sit in an old-busted chair.

“The kid was asking for it Big Matt. I gave him 20 grand to hold and he

decided to trade all of my loot for a coke deal uptown!”

“BX?” I asked curiously.

“Yeah, and when I pressed him about it, he told me that he simply wanted out

and that he was expanding his business ventures.”

“Sounds like the son-of-a-bitch got what he deserved then,” I said as I twiddled

my thumbs.

“Exactly! The nerve of him! To wanna expand upon his so-called business

ventures. How foolish does that sound? I’ve been hustlin’ since that kid was in diapers

Matt. I’m talkin’ bout early 70’s, afro-sheen, big comb, tooth-pick–and-all watching

Shaft. I mean, Michael Jackson was bad but he wasn’t even ‘Off The Wall’ at the time!

Now all of a sudden, some kid who doesn’t even have hair on his nuts wants to be a

boss?

asked Mercer rhetorically as he extracted his money out of the old feeble drawer and

resumed counting.

“Shit, you just gotta watch yourself out here Mercer. Thanks to you there’s a

whole lotta heat I gotta cover up back at the department.”

“I’m sorry about that Big Matt. I didn’t mean for it to be that way.”

“Just promise that you’ll lay low for a while. I’ve gotta find someone to put this

wrap on.”

“Will do,” he said as he began to smoke a blunt.

“Well I’m already late, let me get started on this case,” I said as I got up.

“Chauncey, shut the door behind your uncle,” said Mercer.

“It’s ok Ron. Chauncey, walk me outside son,” I said as I got up to leave the

apartment.

When we reached my car, Chauncey noticed that I had a lot on my mind and asked,

“Everything good unc?”

“Yeah, but you know this is a lot of shit for me to cover back at the office. Now

promise me you’ll stay out of trouble in the meantime.”

“Yeah, I will,” he obliged.

“And another thing. Only trust yourself. Don’t put all of your faith in Jake and

Mercer…You know…you should be leaving this kind of life behind. Go back to

school…”

“School’s not for me,” he said as he watched an ambulance wail its way

through a red light.

He then turned back around to face me. After a few moments of intense gaze he

then said,

“This is my life.”

From where I stood with one hand perched on the roof of my Honda, I began to

heave a huge sigh.

“Ok, but just know that eventually the game always ones up the score in the end.

And watch your back with Mercer, if he can do what he did to Evan, he won’t hesitate

to do it to you.”

I then continued, “I won’t think twice about killing him if I have to. Quite frankly,

I’ve never liked the cumstain.”

Chauncey let out a huge burst of laughter.

“I’m serious. Just look out for yourself kiddo,” I said in a sort of pleading way.

“I will unc,” he said.

 I do care:  After giving him a quick one armed hug and kiss to the forehead, I quickly got into my car and went as fast as I could to the 23rd precinct. I didn’t want Gordon to notice my long peculiar absence after he had placed me on such an important case. But it wasn’t the first time Gordon gave orders and I didn’t respond. I often did that on the regular…

  As soon as I reached the station I quickly went into my office where I found

Detective Alvin stationed on my computer. He was wasting no time with a donut

crammed into his mouth as he quickly gathered a list of suspects.

“Find anything yet?” I asked.

“I’ve found a list of names that we can quickly start interrogating but that’s about

it. You?”

“Jeez, I just got here kid. Can I at least take a moment to breathe first?”

“Sorry, and by the way Gordon wants to talk to us but he wants you to go get

him. I think he’s in the burglary unit at the moment.”

“Whatever,” I said as I left the room.

“Just like Gordon,” I thought.

“Always wants to talk but you always gotta be the one to find him. I knew exactly where he was though. Gordon was often found in Detective Deborah Lane’s office up in the east wing.”

When I opened the door, Gordon looked up at me and said,

“Oh, you’re here. Did you finally get a list of suspects?”

“Yeah,” I said. “The kid and I found a list of four names to look into.”

“Great,” he said as he made advancements to where I stood by the door.

He then turned around and told the female sitting at the desk,

“Lane, I’ll be back.”

  Clarification: The reason Gordon was always in the burglary department was because he had deep feelings for this new girl named Detective Lane. Although she was much younger than both of us, she was very mature and insightful for her age. And as we left, I couldn’t help but think on what a cute thing she actually was. She was 24, with no man, and no kids.  And if I had the chance, I would’ve gave it to her good the only way I knew how…Women often told me that I was as long as a ruler and as wide as a remote. Shame on you, if you don’t understand what I’m currently bringing to your attention…

As we got back into the office, Gordon pulled up a chair besides Detective Alvin and

asked,

“Okay, so what do we have?”

“There are four possible names that come up with Evan Wright,” said Alvin.

  He then continued,

“They all work at certain establishments or happen to have known him

nonetheless.”

“Give me some names,” demanded Gordon.

“Well, the first name on the list is Violetta Wright, the kid’s grandmother. Word

going around is that she was the last person to see him,” said Alvin.

“We’ve also got a Ray Chandler,” I said.

“Who’s he?” asked Gordon.

“Former friend of our victim, maybe he has the scoop on why things happened

the way they did.” I said.

In that precise moment, Detective Alvin Alvin gave me a look of suspicion. The name had not appeared on his list of suspects and judging by the look he gave me, he was obviously wondering where on earth had I found such precise information. But just remember, Wright used to run with my nephew along with the likes of Ron Mercer. So I definitely ran a background check on who ever that he came into contact with…

“Any others?” asked Gordon.

“There’s a Chris Palmer, a bouncer at the Palladium Nightclub in the city that

 Wright used to attend. They once got into a verbal altercation, and word going

around is that they never liked each other,” said Alvin.

“Sounds good, so let’s see if we can get st---“

“I forgot to mention, there’s a Luke Fisher as well, former drug dealer now gone

straight. He currently resides on East 93rd in Canarsie,” added Alvin, as he looked over

his police report.

2 Fishers, 1 Truth:  My heart suddenly gave a jolt like some jumping cables. Fisher? Could he be related to Jake Fisher by any chance perhaps? If Fisher did have a brother, how come he hadn’t told me? If they were related by any chance, this would surely put Chauncey at risk of being in any trouble. I had to find out as soon as possible whether the two were related or not…

“So where’s your first destination,” asked Gordon in his usual brisk tone.

“Grandma’s house of course. Most likely she can set up the whole trail as we go

along,” assured Alvin.

“Okay, get to it. Keep me posted as you guys go along,” said Gordon.

“We will,” I said as all three of us made movements to leave the room.

Once Gordon had went back down towards the east wing and I was sure he was

out of earshot, I calmly asked Alvin,

“Where’d you get the info on Fisher?”

“He was a drug dealer not too long ago,” replied Alvin. He then continued,

“I’ve got a few connects in the streets and they told me about him. To be honest,

I don’t think he’s really that important, I just thought he’d be another name to round

out our list of suspects, but why is that important?” he asked as he

eyed me suspiciously.

“No reason,” I replied casually.

“And what about this Chandler hmm?” he added.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t here when I was doing all the work.”

“That’s why I went home kid. I do all my damn homework on my own time. That’s

how I operate,” I said.

As we approached the parking lot where our cars stood one in front of the

other, Detective Alvin made a gesture towards my car.

“How many times do I have to tell you Alvin, I work alone and quite frankly if  

decisions were strictly mine, I wouldn’t need no damn partner!”

Detective Alvin then shifted his walk north to where his car stood at the end of the

 lot.

“Shady rule #1: (Work Alone)  If you have someone around you constantly, nine times out of ten they are going to know a lot about you and how you work. And personally, I felt that as a two-way Detective, I didn’t need that. The last thing I wanted was a fellow Detective on my ass keeping up with everything I did…

Half an hour later, we pulled up separately at Violetta Wright’s door. She lived on

East 29th and Beverly Road. I then proceeded to ring the doorbell as we waited

for a response.

“Who is it?” she asked in a weak voice.

“NYPD,” I said.

As quickly as I had said it, the door opened. Mrs. Wright had on a cooking apron

with gloves and mittens as she held a very big spoon. Her hair was placed in rollers

and a house net as she prepped for a meal or whatever it was that she had been

conjuring in the kitchen.

“Come on in,” she said.

As we entered the home which smelled like vegetable soup and Vicks Vapor Rub,

the old woman then pointed towards her dingy old couch.

“Sit down,” she said.

“That’s okay. We’d like to make this brief while asking you a few questions

Madam,” I said, as I was in no mood to get comfortable.

“I’m guessing this is about my Grandson. Well, let me tell you something, I loved

Evan with all my heart but he got what was coming to him. Do you know how many

times I told that boy what would happen if he kept going at the rate he did? I was

left to raise him. I had him since he was five years old.”

In that moment, Mrs. Wright decided to sit down.  She was a very old woman and it

was obvious that her excitement had gotten the best of her.

“Are you alright M’am?” asked Alvin.

“I’m okay,” she replied as she twiddled her thumbs upon the big spoon at hand.

“What happened to his parents?” I asked.

“The same exact thing. His father, was my son but he and his girlfriend, Evan’s

mother, were shot to death while trying to fight a rival drug gang back in 1978.”

“Wow,” said Alvin in disbelief.

“I know, I know, now he’s ended up like his parents. I’ve had high blood pressure  

for the past 20 years, and so, I was never able to deal with him. I always knew that he

would end up the way they did.

“Anything else we should know about your Grandson?” I said.

“He used to be very good friends with this kid named Ray. A very nice young boy

who is currently in school trying to make something out of himself…If only Evan

could have been more like him,” said the old woman as she sighed.

“Is the kid’s full name Ray Chandler by any chance?” asked Alvin as he wrote

notes into a little notepad that he had suddenly pulled out.

“Yes, he’s the one,” said Mrs. Wright as she stared out of her cloudy window.

“That will be all,” I said.

“Thanks again M’am and if anything comes up we will be in touch,” said Alvin as

we both made our way towards the door.

“Not a problem, I’m glad that I could be of help,” she said before shutting the

door behind us.

After leaving the porch of Mrs. Wright, Detective Alvin then asked me,

“Where can we find this kid?”

“NYU,” I replied. “He’s a sophomore there and lives on campus.”

“Let me guess, you found that out during your personal homework session?”

asked Alvin as we both reached our cars.

Now  you’re starting to get me kid,” I chuckled as I opened my car door.

“Three hours of work left, what now?” asked Alvin.

“C’mon, it’s a Saturday and the kid’s a college student, he’s probably planning on

going out tonight. I say we pay him a visit ASAP to see what we can squeeze out

of him before then,” I said.

“You got it,” replied Alvin as he fired up his engine and left without another

word.

 Shady rule #2: (Know the personnel) I soon left a minute after him as I headed to New York University. And as for me knowing the boy’s school of attendance, that’s easy. Mercer knew even the most personal details of all his employees. It was the most secure way to keeping himself safe. But in terms of myself just knowing that piece of information in general, there’s one thing you’ve got to remember; I’m Detective Frank Matthews…I know everything…

An hour later, after very bad traffic, I arrived at New York University located on

383 Lafayette Street. About five minutes or so after I had got there, I noticed

Detective Alvin had parked his car parallel to where I had been on the opposite side

of the street. As he got out of his car and made his way to where I had been standing

on the curb he asked,

“Do you know which residency hall that he lives in?”

“No, but let’s go check out administration, they’ll tell us,” I said.

“Shit, there are probably at least a dozen of residency buildings in this damn

place,” said Alvin as he took in the sights of the large beautiful campus.

“That’s why I’m not going to waste my damn time searching for one measly kid,”

I replied in a matter of fact tone.

As we entered the Students Services Center, both Alvin and I made our way towards

a female receptionist who was sitting behind a glass window.

“You talk to her kid, you’re much more of a people person than I am,” I said as I

sat down in a waiting chair.

“Excuse me miss,” said Alvin as he approached the woman.

“Yes?” she quickly replied as she took in Alvin’s dashing good looks.

“I’m with the NYPD on official business,” he said as he flashed his badge.

“Can you tell me in which residency hall I’ll find Ray Chandler?”

“Hold on,” she said as she typed his name on a computer in front of her.

“Yes, Raymond is in Thirteenth Street Hall. Just walk right back out of these doors,

walk up one block to East 13th Street and you can’t miss it.”

“Thanks again,” he said kindly as he flashed his charming smile.

We then proceeded to exit the building.

“You’re better than me kid. I dislike people. Better yet, I hate them. If there’s no

need for me to talk to them, I just won’t,” I said.

“Sometimes, I just don’t know what to think about you Matthews,” said Alvin as

he shook his head in disbelief.

When we entered Thirteenth Street Hall, an R.A. told us that Chandler could be

found on the third floor in room 3C.

As we made our way towards his room, Alvin began to knock on the door.

Loud music and commotion could be heard from just within the door’s exterior.

After what seemed like thirty seconds the door finally opened.

“Finally, we’ve been waiting for hours! Where’s the pizza?” said the kid stupidly

as he held the doorknob.

“Do I look like a delivery boy to you? I’m with the NYPD,” I said as I flashed him

my badge.

“Listen, I didn’t do anything, I didn’t mean to offend,” said the kid in a stammer.

“A guilty conscious eh? What’s your name kid?” I said as I cracked a sly grin.

“Eric Bennett,” he replied in fear.

“Look, you have to excuse my partner here, my name is Detective Alvin Alvin and

we’re looking for your roommate Ray Chandler,” said Alvin as we then stepped

into the room.

“Ray stepped out to do laundry about an hour ago; he should be back any

minute,” said Eric, unsure if he had heard Detective Alvin’s name correctly.

It was then that Ray Chandler walked in, laundry sack and all. He was a pretty

tall kid who stood about 6’3”, broad shouldered and had a very queasy look about

him. He was brown complexioned and although he was tall and broad shouldered, it

was still obvious that he was just a kid no more than 19 or 20 years of age.

“Did the pizza get here?” he asked a he took in the presence of Alvin and me.

“NYPD,” I said.

“What’s going on?” he asked nervously as he put the clean sack of laundry on his

Bronze colored bed.

“Mr. Chandler, what do you know about the death of Evan Wright?” asked Alvin

sharply.

“Awww shit,” he said as he closed his eyes.

“Well?” I asked.

“It’s news to me. I mean, I wouldn’t say I’m completely shocked, but this is the

first time I’m hearing about this,” he said as he now moved aside his sack in order to

sit upon the bed.

“When was the last time you saw him?” asked Alvin as he took out his notepad

once again.

“During winter break. He stopped by my house on Franklin Avenue in Brooklyn

just a little after Christmas.”

“Is it safe to say that you two were the best of friends?” I asked.

“No—well—yes—I mean, we used to be but ever since sophomore year of High

School we haven’t really clicked. Evan became heavily involved with street life

and I’ve never been one to indulge into that kind of trouble,” he gushed.

“Do you know what could have placed him upon that path?” asked Alvin as he

continued to scribble down notes at a frantic pace.

“Yeah, I remember him getting involved with a Luke Fisher back in 89’ and ever

since then he took a turn for the worst. But if everything you said is true, my guess is

that the kid Luke is long gone as well.”

“Not quite, he’s living in Canarsie and we’re definitely going to check him out as

well,” said Alvin, as he began to wrap up his notes.

“That will be all,” I said. “If there’s anything more that we need, we’ll be in touch,

but overall thanks for your help.”

“No, thank you. I know Evan really got caught up but he was a good person with

an even better heart,” said Ray.

“Well, once again, thank you gentlemen for your time,” said Alvin as we exited

the room.

“Ok, next on the list is Mr. Palmer, but after receiving that bit of info from the kid,

I say we go straight to Fisher,” said Alvin.

“No, let’s see what this Palmer guy has to say. I have seniority over you Alvin,

listen to what I’m telling you,” I said.

“Okay, so I guess we’ll check out the club tomorrow night?” he asked.

“Sounds like a plan,” I replied.

And without another word, we both got into our cars and pulled off.

As I drove back to my apartment in Brownsville, I couldn’t wait to phone Jake Fisher. I just had to find out if that guy Luke was related to him or not.

The first thing I did was pour myself a drink of scotch once I had reached home.

After waking up from dozing off to a previous taping of “Saturday

Night Live,” it had just occurred to me that I hadn’t phoned Fisher.

I then proceeded to call Chauncey who then gave me Fisher’s number. After what

seemed like seven rings a voice finally answered.

“Hello?”

“Fisher is that you?” I said.

“Who is this?” he replied sleepily.

“Big Matt.”

“Oh—hey what’s up?” he asked.

“Now Fisher, be very careful with me because I’m a dangerous man,” I said.

“Why? Is everything ok?” he asked nervously.

“I’m only going to ask you this once so I expect you to tell me the truth.”

“Yes, okay.”

“Are you related by any chance to a Luke Fisher?”

Silence ensued as I waited for him to respond.

“FISHER! Answer me!!!” I bellowed.

“No! C’mon man, even if I were, don’t you think Mercer would know?” he tried

to assure me.

“You know I don’t like to waste my breath and so I pray that you’re telling the

truth.”

“I—I—I am,” he said reluctantly.

“Okay, that’s all I need to know. I’m sorry I woke you, get some rest,” I told

him.

“Okay, will do, thanks,” he said before hanging up.

I then proceeded to take another sip of my scotch before my phone rang.

“Hello?” I said.

“Matthews, it’s me Gordon.”

“Damn It!” I thought.

Even in my own damn apartment I couldn’t get away from that fruitcake…

“Yes,” I responded, in the best polite voice I could possibly muster.

“How did the first day of investigation go?” he asked.

“It went smooth. We interrogated the kid’s grandmother and then a former close

friend of his not too long after that. We plan on investigating Palmer on Monday.”

“What about the Fisher guy?” asked Gordon.

“We haven’t gotten around to him as of yet but we’ll try,” I said.

“No, don’t try Matthews. Do!” He then continued,

“This is a very lethal case. I mean the kid was literally cut in half here.”

“I know, I’ll be sure that we see to it; Guaranteed,” I assured him.

“Good, I’ll see you at work this week,” he said.

“Sure thing,” I said before I quickly hung up the phone

If there was anyone who annoyed me the most it had to be Captain America of the 23rd

precinct…

Two nights later, Detective Alvin pulled up behind me at the Palladium Nightclub

on East 14th between Irving Plaza and 3rd Avenue in Manhattan.

As we met on the sidewalk he asked,

“Do you know what this Chris Palmer guy looks like?”

“My guess is that he’s the big black guy right over there by the door,” I said as

we skipped a line of people waiting to get into the club.

“Can I help you?” he asked as we made our way to the front.

As I took in his appearance I noticed that he was built as thick and tall as any NFL

linebacker that I had ever seen. He stood about 6’4”, dressed in all black, (as those

bouncers usually do) was bald-headed and had a hoop earring in his left ear.

“Yes, NYPD,” said Alvin. “We’d like to ask you a few questions if that’s okay with

you.”

“Does it look like I answer questions?” he said. He then continued,

“I mean, you see me working here right? I’ve got a full line of customers waiting

to get into this club tonight and here you guys come messing up the flow.”

“First off, these shitheads can wait,” I said.

“Secondly, watch your tone Michael Jordan. The man here asked if we could just

pick your brain for a sec.”

“What is it?” he asked.

  It was obvious that he was getting irritated.

“Do you know anything about the death of an Evan Wright?” asked Alvin.

“No, I don’t. Heard about it though. The shit’s been all over prime-time news.

He used to come here from time to time but it’s been a year since I last seen him

here,” said Palmer.

“Do you know any of the people he used to possibly run wi—?“ started Alvin.

“Listen, get out of here! The both of you! If you want to ask questions, wait until I

get off of work. If not, go speak to the manager in the back. Leave me be.”

“Boy, if it wasn’t for me being a cop, I would beat the hell out of you right now,” I

said as grim and candid as possible.

“Ha! You?” he laughed and then said,

“Old man, move it along, you’re probably in your mid 50’s, shouldn’t you be back

at the station telling these young bloods what to do while eating a glazed donut or

somethin’?”

“Kid, you have no clue what you’ve gotten yourself into. I’ll come back, sooner

than later and when I do, I’m going to make you hurt boy.”

“Right, but if you guys will excuse yourselves, I need to get back to what I was

doing. And take Lawrence Fishburne with you,” he said as he pointed at Alvin with a

smirk.

“Let’s just go,” said Alvin as he tugged on my arm.

As we walked away I couldn’t help but think how much I wanted to hurt him.

“Next and last on our list is Luke Fisher. I say we go check him out tomorrow,”

 Alvin said.

“I can’t. Tomorrow’s my day off. Let’s check him out Thursday instead.

Wednesday I’ve got a shit load of paperwork to take care of,” I told him.

“Agreed, I’ve got my own paperwork to take care of tomorrow anyway. I’ll see

you Thursday then,” he said just before his Lexus pulled off into the night.

  FRANKLY TWISTED: Now, the following day I indeed had a day off. However, I decided to return to

work at night…

I pulled up in front of the Palladium Nightclub at approximately 2 a.m. as I waited

for Mr. Palmer to exit the premises.

About 15 minutes later, Palmer came out and locked up as he approached his 4x4

Ford pick-up truck. I was dressed in black attire with a hooded mask and navy blue

Nike Air-Maxes when I crept up behind him.

As he scrambled within his pockets for car keys I tapped him slightly on the

shoulder. When he turned around, I punched him so hard in the face that his top

almost spun off like a dreidel. And as he lied on the floor out cold I then

whispered:

“Who’s the old man now Jordan? You know, before you mess with the big leaguers,

make sure you master the minors.”

And with no hesitancy I bent his left elbow back until I heard a snap. His

gold earring was shining upon the night’s sky before I wrapped my fingers around

its hoop and yanked it out of his ear, splitting his lower earlobe in two. I threw what

was now a bloody earring on his chest as I left him sprawled out upon the frigid

ground…

On Thursday afternoon I parked my car just behind Alvin’s Lexus in front of Fisher’s

Canarsie apartment. As I met him, I asked whether he knew which apartment we were

heading into.

“5E,” he said as we made our way into the building.

“Cool,” I replied.

We had then stepped into the main entrance elevator as it would take us to the fifth

floor.

“Hey, did you hear?” asked Alvin.

“What is it?” I asked as I began to chew my tongue.

“Palladium security guard Chris Palmer was found unconscious in front of the

establishment. Someone split open his earlobe and broke his left elbow.”

“Oh Yeah? Well would you look at that? I knew that son—of—a—bitch had

something coming to him. He’s lucky that it wasn’t me. I would’ve done worse,” I

said.

“Yeah, he sure is,” chuckled Alvin with two hands deep within his trench coat

pockets.

When we reached the fifth floor and found 5E, I proceeded to wrap my knuckles

upon the door.

A few moments later, a young man of about 22 years of age stood before me.

 2 Fishers, 1 lied:  In that moment I almost lost it. There was no doubt in my mind that this kid was

related to Jake.

“NYPD,” said Alvin.

“Come on in,” said Luke.

He stood about 6’1”, had a very athletic appearance and seemed laid back.

“We’d like to know if you knew anything surround the parameters of Evan

Wright’s death,” said Alvin.

“No sir, I have no clue. It’s been three years since I last spoke to or saw him.”

“And how did you know him?” asked Alvin.

“I used to be a drug dealer myself in BedStuy’s Marcy Projects.” He then

continued,

“All of that’s behind me now. I almost died at gunpoint for a coke deal which

went bad. That’s when I realized that the street life wasn’t my calling.”

“But how did you meet him?” I interjected.

  “I met him through my brother who wanted me to show him the ropes on how the

game worked.”

“What’s your brother’s name?” asked Alvin.

“Nice try but I’m not telling you that,” said Luke as he sat down upon a battered

chair.

“Mr. Fisher, you do know that you’re withholding information from the NYPD

that can punish you up to ten years in Federal prison,” said Alvin.

“Look, I haven’t even seen my brother in four years. Who knows where he is.

As far as I know, he’s dead to me.”

“Well then, thanks for your time,” said Alvin.

“But just remember if nothing comes up, we will be back for you,” he added.

“Listen, I plan on taking that police exam in a few weeks okay. I’ve been studying

law for quite some time now. I think I know my rights,” said Fisher.

“Thank you Fisher, let’s go Alvin,” I said.

“What the hell is wrong with you Matthews?” said Alvin once we were headed

down the elevator.

“You barely spoke in there,” he added.

“Sometimes, it’s best to just stay quiet, and besides, you were doing pretty well on your own. I figured you had it all under control,” I told him as I tried to managemy nerves.

“Yeah, I guess. Look, we need to find this other Fisher guy and fast. I think once

we find him all the pieces will begin to fit accordingly,” said Alvin.

“Listen, I’m going home, I’ve got some things to take care of, tell Gordon that I’ll

be down at the station real soon.”

“Sure thing,” said Alvin as he left without another word.

As I got into my car and watched him pull off, all I could think about was how Fisher

lied and denied having a brother. He played me for a sucker. There was just no

way I would let Chauncey get hurt by any means.

Later that day, I phoned up the 23rd precinct and told them Jake Fisher’s location.

The following night he was arrested. Caught in possession with 90 grams of


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