A Crime Story 2
So Much for Subtlety
“You are definitely Frank Morgan’s little girl.” Marty says in a tone that almost resembles regret.
“You just don’t understand, do you? You have never been able to understand, Marty.” Linda has grown tired of hearing Martino’s constant badger about her obsession to nail the Paccios. “It is because of that family …my father …”
“That has not been proven. I admit that the evidence looks good, but the jury didn’t think that it was good enough. Maybe if that double-crossing Pete Albright had lived we could have had them but well …” Marty lets his voice trail off.
Just then there is a commotion from outside Inspector Riley’s office. An array of bulletins fills the air, and everyone is diving either under a table, a desk or behind a file cabinet. Four men in black with automatics blast anything that moves insuring that nothing escapes.
Linda is wedged between Inspector Riley and Marty; both men with guns drawn returning fire. Suddenly, the four men focus their attention on the two suspects and empty a round of ammo into each man. Before these men can target the main purpose of their visit, the SWAT team arrives and the 43rd Precinct becomes another Armageddon. When it’s over 18 men lie dead including the perpetrators, the hit men and 12 police officers.
“Son-of-a …” Starts Inspector Riley surveying the human carnage. “Linda, whatever it is that the Paccios think you have must really be a doozy. Has she shared anything with you, Marty?”
I can’t get a thing out of her. But I am beginning to think that this is bigger than the Paccio clan. They are just a tip of the glacier. This smell of the Sicilians.” Martino shakes his head and eyes Linda. “Honey … I think it’s time you come clean.”
“Marty, I’ve got the story of the century and I am going to sit on it until I string up every Paccio by their "Dancing Deli" shirts.” Linda says looking smug.
“You are in this way over your head, honey.” Martino cautions. “Have you looked around this room? If it hadn’t been for the SWAT boys we’d all be leaving in body bags!”
“Listen to your friend Miss Pulitzer Prize winner. The Middle East is one thing, but the Sicilians are way, way out of your league. They have their hands in places even the angels won’t go.”
“That’s where my predatory instincts come into play.” Linda states matter-of-fact.
Martino insists that Linda ride with one of the few remaining officers. The journey to her father’s mansion is pensive. Although Frank Morgan enjoys the birthright of a millionaire; his loyalties lie between his devotion to the city that accommodated his birth and his wife Peggy plus his only daughter Linda. The handsome silver-hair gentleman is extremely proud of his courageous daughter, but Peggy is constantly worried. She has almost lost the love of her life ... her husband. She does not want to lose her daughter.
The Morgan Estate
Peggy Morgan sits nervously facing the flames while her husband relishes the comfort of his favorite recliner and a glass of Dom Pérignon in his left hand. The massive recliner houses a portable bar, built-in DVD player, and reading section. Frank enjoys the relaxing massage and heat emanating from a special unit within the chair and is about to doze off when Linda strolls into the room.
The approach of rain always gives Frank cause to complain but, on this night, he is nursing a new wound. It is important however, to not reveal this information to either his lovely wife Peggy or his impetuous daughter Linda.
Peggy brushes aside her luscious blonde locks which are kept gray-free by the miracle of a solution concocted by her attentive salon stylist. Her satin and lace dressing gown caresses still youthful thighs. There is nothing about Peggy Morgan that reveals tale-tell signs of age 59 years!
With the grace of a gazelle she moves swiftly toward Linda displaying a small nervous twitch of disapproval.
“Linda …” Peggy begins her discussion portraying her deep Southern accent before being interrupted by her daughter.
“Mom, before you begin I guess it’s a safe bet to assume that the both of you have been informed of my little mishap.” Linda interrupts trying to make light of a very remarkable afternoon.
“I wouldn’t call it a mishap …” Peggy would have continued but notices the risen hand of her husband.
Frank then focuses his attention on Officer Collins, the policeman who has driven Linda to the mansion.
“And who do I have the pleasure of meeting? Do forgive me if I don’t rise to the occasion but sometimes these prostheses become cumbersome.” Frank is referring to his two artificial limbs; the results of his legendary encounter with the notorious Paccio Clan.
“No need to rise sir, The Chronicles of Lawmen is required reading at
the Academy. Your daughter’s account of your heroic encounter with the Paccio Clan is expertly documented and makes fascinating reading on a cold winter’s night. My name is Officer William "Bill" Collins, sir.” Collins extends a hand to shake that of his greatest role model. Frank decides that it will be prudent to speak to his daughter alone. He beckons Peggy and with a knowing nod she locks her arm into the open space of the policeman.
“Young man, Bill ... why don’t you follow me into the kitchen. I’m sure cook has a fresh batch of chocolate chips cookies just out the oven.” Peggy states as she chaperones him toward the hallway. Collins looks over his shoulder only briefly then allows his hostess to commandeer him in the direction of the kitchen.
To Be Continued
A Crime Story Part 3 Link
- A Crime Story Part 3
"Yes, but no matter how beautiful or well stocked a prison is ... it is after all still a prison."
© 2013 Jacqueline Williamson BBA MPA MS