Secret Radio Murders - Chapter 56

by Geri Fitzsimmons & Andy Stephenson1

The dark blue Impala, with its abundance of scratches and dings that mar the paint job of any service vehicle, slid into the ‘No’ parking zone a few steps from the entrance to Benni’s Jewish Deli.2

A simple ‘check on the welfare’ assignment didn’t require any particular method of handling. Al Hayes said to his partner, “Hang around outside. I’ll check at the register and talk to the manager?” He eyed the lunch crowd still attacking the place. “Give me about five minutes—then follow. Start giving a takeout order and maybe scout the crowd.” 3

Exiting the car, Hayes joined the patrons moving to the interior of the Deli, while Zack Hamlin walked around the rear of their auto and paused as if examining the car behind them.4

Hayes palmed his badge, and moving in close to the counter he carefully held it so it was visible only to the clerk at the register. He gave a sharp nod towards the back room. “Boss in?” 5

“eye help you,” came eagerly in heavily accented English. The short and slightly built, with that born in the sun-hide, male appeared nearly ecstatic to have the opportunity to be helping New York’s finest. He lifted the hinged part of the counter that separated him from the customers and allowed Hayes entrance to his space. 6

Escorted to a small office, the Arab pulled the door open and they paused just out of sight of the dinning room, as Hayes assured, “It’s not a big deal. I’m doing a check of local businesses in regards to the use of a credit card this morning. It was used here at nine-twenty. The name was Madison Longo. I need some information.”7

The pleasure gushed out of his mouth, but his words jumbled as he tried to impress the American cop. “Eye remember—much smaller than friend. Other lady much blonde hair, pretty girl. Darker one here now…”8

Certain he was misunderstanding, Hayes frowned and ordered, “Slow down so I can understand you.”9

Frustrated the fellow highlighted his words with hand gestures. “Remember cause name same as street. Funny and we laugh. Instead of pretty one, she comes back with a man.” 10

“When?”11

“Now!” He started to move, lifting his arm as if to point in a certain direction.12

“Hold it!” Hayes grabbed the shorter fellow’s shoulder preventing the arm from lifting. “Listen. You mean the lady’s here now?”13

“I show you.”14

“No. Tell me what she looks like. What the guy looks like and where they’re sitting.”15

Following the fellow’s directions, Hayes peered around the door. ‘Sweet Jesus! Dale Carter…’ His cell phone began vibrating and he retrieved it from his belt while still restraining his enthusiastic companion. Barely giving Farley a chance to say anything, Hayes confirmed, “We’re at the Deli.” Then blurted out, “You’re not going to believe this one Sarge. Longo is here sitting with Dale Carter.”16

Standing at the counter fully exposed and next in line for service, Zack Hamlin pretended to those around him that he wasn’t seeing what he knew he was. In the wall length mirror behind the register that added depth to the narrow establishment, Zack spotted Dale Carter. ‘The son of a bitch is parked at a table with a broad. Enjoying lunch like a normal person.’ “Got a large to go order,” he said trying to keep his voice as low as possible and still be heard.17

“List?”18

He tapped his forehead and grinned at the olive-skinned pixie who had located his face and quickly found a smile of her own.19

“In your head? So it’s not too long.” Her use of English advertised local schooling. She poised her pen over the order book,I writing.20

Though around and behind him he could sense the impatience of others, Zach didn’t rush as he described each sandwich in detail, each drink separately while the girl wrote. He could see Hayes holding the fellow’s shoulder and talking into his phone so he took it that his partner was aware of their predicament and calling for back up. 21

Since Carter didn’t seem to have noticed him, the smartest thing would be for Hamlin would be to leave without calling attention to himself.22

“Hang on.” He still kept his tone low as he said, “My wallet’s in the car. Wait on the others, I’ll be right back.” He tried to remain blocked by as many bodies, between him and Carter’s table, as possible while he slipped out the door.23

Once outside he rushed to the car while dialing Hayes’ cell phone.
24

Farley commandeered a black and white. He drove with no regard for road conditions or the speed laws. He swung in and out of traffic with siren screaming, and lights flashing. He latched on to each auto’s rear end and pressured it until it was able to follow the line of cars in front into the right lanes, leaving the way clear for the official car.25

“ETA EIGHT MINUTES! SEVEN MINUTES!” he continued to yell an approximate arrival time into the phone with Hayes on receiving end. Joe was using his hands free device, and then changed the caller with the benefit of speed dial programming.26

“Where the Hell are you?” He had switched the recipient of his bellow from Al Hayes to Brad Benson.27

“Babysitting your God Damn Captain!” Benson’s vocal cords weren’t lacking. “The son of a bitch made me drive him to OnePP for a press conference. He had me help brief the Brass and wants me close by in case he has to answer a question. You know, like high school, where I can slip him a wadded paper answer.”28

“Blow him off,” Farley ordered. “Carter’s our top priority. He has a least one hostage and the Fucker is sitting in a Deli on 57th street—like he hasn’t a care in the world.”29

“What the Hell’s been going on?”30

“I’ll explain later. Just get your ass over to Benni’s Deli on Madison and 57th. Carter’s there. Al is inside and has him under surveillance and Zack’s in a car outside. I’ll be on the scene in about four minutes.”
31

Captain Taylor was being awarded with the worse seat in the house, in the house, being the puke-green painted pressroom of One Police Plaza, and the seat being a standup position on the low podium in the front of the microphones. 32

No one really had room to actually sit; the eight uniforms and three suits crowding the area were shoulder to shoulder or back end to belly. Most of the room was filled to overflow with scurrying television news crews, vying for the best angles; and frantic journalists attempting to shove in close enough to be recognized when they poised a question. The press conference, called hastily after the morning’s dreadful events, was the action taken by the city officials and police brass in a desperate hope to control what was released to the public by New City’s unruly fourth estate.33

Being allowed to participate in press conferences, usually gave Taylor an adrenaline rush of pride. Today, he felt the rush of a different kind. 34

Dread was so heavy in the room; you could smell it in sweat-stink of the well-groomed males pressing close to him. Fear cut like a blade peeling away the facade of courage when you were faced with a hideous crime that could bring down an administration. Fear was the harbinger, foretelling the end of several careers… number one being his career.35

On the far side, Carbonetti, the little prick in his 500dollar suit, was sandwiched between the Mayor and the Chief whispering something that was obviously comforting to them. It caused a slight nod from the Mayor and a squeeze on the small man’s shoulder from the Chief.36

The New York City’s mayoral race was at it zenith and as usual being conducted at the level of adolescents. The popular jovial politician had been fairly assured of reelection, until this ugly murder spree became known. A Serial Killer had been operating in New York, operating without public awareness. 37

Mayor Kline read from a prepared speech, his Bronx accent filling the room. “My friends of the press, while New York City is at present enjoying the lowest murder rate of any major metropolitan area in the country, you have been invited here because my office has become aware a Serial Killer has chosen our great city to commit his atrocities. Each of the crimes, though admittedly public knowledge when they happened, has only ‘NOW’ been linked to single individual.38

“This psychopath’s spree will quickly be brought to an end. I asked the press here, so the citizens of our great city can be informed on what steps are being taken and what has already been accomplished in the efforts by their police department to bring this criminal to a swift arrest and justice.39

“At this time, I’ll ask that Chief Crawley answer questions.” He stepped slightly back so the Chief’s larger bulk would fit in front of him.40

“Thank you Mister Mayor.” Chief Crawley's low, intelligent voice rather dry and unemotional, attempted to keep up with single answers to the multiple questions being flung at him, but within minutes the noise level in the room became deafening.41

Carbonetti stepped forward and blocked the mike with a hand. “Gentlemen!” he barked without its benefit. 42

In the sudden silence, Crawley answered the last question he heard; “A police officer was injured trying to apprehend the suspect this morning. Detective Michael Tomanio is in serious condition at Bellevue.”43

“How many people has this guy killed?” came from the rear of the room. Obviously the condition of a police officer overshadow by the desire for more gory news.44

“Of the deaths traced to this perpetrator, we have confirmed only those cases of death by drug overdose, which maybe assisted suicides. We do have evidence linking the same person to several deaths by trauma….” This was accompanied by a new furry of waving arms and microphones with more barked questions that grew into shouts.45

Carbinotti raised both his hands. “Nothing, Gentlemen and Ladies, nothing is going to be accomplished—if we all go deaf. ”46

“Is there a profile available?” A young woman asked at the same time some else yelled, “Is it true it’s some jerk from Jersey?” While a popular news anchor in the front row interrupted, “Chief, can you verify what the name of this guy is? We heard you know the name of the suspect?”47

Again the questions were bombarding the officials from all parts of the room.48

“We have established the identity of a person of interest…” came from the Chief Crawley who motioned towards Taylor.49

Taylor’s attention shifted to where Sergeant Benson had been standing obediently by the door. ‘He’s gone.’ Panic seized the Captain of Detectives as he realized he was on his own.50