Detective Johnny Taylor

DETECTIVE JOHNNY TAYLOR

“One thirty am” I said with a sigh, looking away from the ticking clock. I rested my arm on the oak wood desk and ran my fingers up and down the side of my face, massaging my throbbing temples. My porcelain face crinkled as my fingers tread through it. I sat back in my suede office chair and loosened my maroon velvet tie, and stared back at the picture of Don Kings, the hotel millionaire.
I couldn’t believe it, me, Detective Johnny Taylor was set to solve the murder of Don Kings.

I ran my fingers through my sleek blond hair and stood up, frustrated. The office was dark with nothing more than a dull bulb casing a light on the clutter of papers that littered my desk. I popped a French Hedge smoke into my mouth and lit the end of it. I put the silver lighter back in my pocket and inhaled deeply on the paper stick that hung from my dry lips. The smoke was hot in my mouth and tasted stale. I blew out a puff of smoke and turned to the window. It was the dead of night, yet, the streets of New York still buzzed with yellow taxis and people wrapped in trench coats, coming in and out of “Al’s Donut Shop” I remember stopping there for a jelly donut just before I got the call, and now I’m stuck trying to solve a crime with clues that don’t add up. A throbbing headache and a murder victim.

It all started three days ago. The day was 15 October 1962. I had just finished wrapping up a case when my partner, Detective Stacy Veton, walked into the office. That dame was a regular “Femme Fatal” with silky blond hair that fell on her shoulders and legs for miles. That doll was smart, sassy, and the best right wing this cop ever had.
“You wanna grab a donut?” I asked, pulling my brown jacket off the back of my chair. She nodded. I followed her out of the office.
I swung my jacket behind me and held it on the tip of my fingers as we entered into Al’s donut shop. The smell of deep fried dough filtered through my nose, as well as the scent of cheap liquor. We took a seat near the window and ordered two jelly donuts. As soon as the waiter left, Stacy tucked a streak of hair behind her ear and turned to me.
“I’m worried Johnny. The bills keep coming and the cash aint.” Said Stacy. I watched as she played with her diamond-incrusted ring in the platinum setting. She always did that when she was scared. I always had a soft spot for her and that would never change. I took hold of her hand and gazed into her emerald green eyes.
“It’s gonna, doll, it’s gonna be okay” I said. She smiled back at me.
I lifted the jelly donut to my lips and tasted the sweet strawberry jam. The sugary goodness stuck on my tongue before I bit into the sponge dough. I exchanged glances with Stacy. She placed a finger on her blood red lips as the red-faced guy from behind the counter held up a receiver and called her name. Stacy stood up and took hold of the receiver.
“Hello” she said, licking her lips. She seemed dazed in the phone.
“We’ll be right there,” she said. She smiled at the guy behind the counter and headed over to me.
“We got the call, Johnny,” she said. I stood up immediately, pulled five dollars out of my wallet, and placed it on the table.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Murder, down at second and third” she said. I followed her out the door and walked down the street.

The sirens of the fleet of police cars numbed my ears. I lifted the yellow crime tape as we both walked into the scene. Stacy’s black heels knocked against the flashing blue and red gravel path. We both walked towards the apartment building hidden in the shadows. A large crowd gathered around the outskirts of the scene. Accusing whispers and gasps traveled among the wind.
On the icy, concrete porch of the building, lay Don King’s body, drowning in a pool of blood. The scene was horrific and I forced myself to look away. I finally swallowed the bitter gulp in my throat and stood on the first stair of the porch. I pulled on my jacket in an attempt to seal out the biting chill that rattled though my bones.
“He’s been stabbed. He bled out,” said Stacy, kneeling over the body. I made mental notes and began talking to one of the officers on the scene.
“Lady ‘cross the road found him. His two brothers are right over there,” said the officer, pointing his pen in the direction of the two men. I walked over to them casually and was joined by Stacy. Both the men were dressed up. To me, they seemed like a pair of shady characters.
“I’m sorry for your loss, gentlemen” said Stacy. I shoved my hands in my pockets and watched them suspiciously.
“Yeah, I’m sure you guys are pretty depressed” I said, sarcastically, trying the old good cop bad cop routine. Stacy nudged me in the ribs.
“Listen here copper, I aint sure what you’re squarin’ about, but I didn’t kill my brother” said one of the guys. I stood back and remained silent. My mind only thinking of what may have happened.

Stacy and I sat, patiently, in my office going over the evidence. She sat back and threw her hands into the air.
“It’s getting late, we should turn it in” she said. I smiled at her and removed my top hat.
“It’s okay. You go on home. I’ll stay here,” I said. She smiled and stroked the back of my neck.
“Okay, just don’t work to hard, okay partner” she said. I watched her walk out the door and sat back at my desk.

I blew out another puff of smoke from the stale French cigarette and drew my attention away from the window. I then lifted the picture again and took a closer look at it. Don Kings was so young, so clever, so rich, so dead. The only question was “why?”
The picture seemed pretty clear. Don’s body was face up with a grotesque expression on his pale face. His arms were dotted in purple and blue bruises and a deep wound in his chest. That’s when I noticed something strange. I pulled the cigarette out of my mouth and drove it into the glass ashtray. I placed the photo on the table and took a closer look. My eyes directly at his fingers, I noticed a ring, a familiar ring, diamond incrusted ring. The same ring worn by Stacy.

I took a deep breath as I stood in front of Stacy’s apartment door. I knocked twice before I noticed it was unlocked. I opened the door slowly and stepped inside. The room was dark, with only a dim light peering through the open window.
“Stacy? It’s Johnny” I said, the darkness and the silence came as my reply. I then heard a rustle in the bedroom. I reached for my fourteen-caliber gun and loaded it. My breath began to speed up as I approached the bedroom. The door was open, but the darkness acted as a blanket over my eyes. I placed my index finger on the trigger and switched on the light. On instinct, I rose my gun in line with my eye. The light flooded the room and in front of me stood Stacy.
“He’s wearing your ring doll face, but you knew that, Mrs. Kings,” I said, my arm becoming stiff.
“Johnny, put the gun down,” said Stacy, calmly.
“You did him in for the money didn’t ya?” I said, ignoring the stabbing feeling of shock and disappointment.
“You’re a great detective, Johnny,” she said. She approached me slowly. I didn’t move. She placed a hand on my out stretched arm and ran it up my shirt. I still remained still and watched her. She placed her hand at the side of my face and whispered, seductively, in my ear.
“Don’t you see, I’m crazy Johnny, crazy for you?” she said. I turned my head and faced her. Her eyes were calling me, I couldn’t resist. She pressed her lips against mine and kissed me passionately. Her hand was hot against the back of my neck. She pulled away lightly and smiled.
“You see, with Don dead, we can be together,” said Stacy. I looked away. I knew she was a dangerous dame, I knew she’d finally get to me, but I couldn’t let her.
“Sorry, doll, you took me for a ride, you played me for a sucker, I’m gonna have to bring you down” I said. She placed her hands on my shoulders and ran them down my side. I shuddered slightly.
“Too bad Johnny. You just don’t get it,” she said. I then felt a stabbing pain in my side. I looked down and saw her pull out the knife from my cotton blue shirt. Scarlet red blood stained my shirt as I fell to my knees and held tightly onto my wound. I then gathered my strength and pulled her down as well. She fell to the floor and dropped the knife. I kicked it away fast and pinned her to the floor. All I could feel right then was a searing hatred for the woman I once knew, but something in her eyes diminished that hate, and I felt… sort of sorry for her.
“It’s gonna be okay doll,” I said, “It’s gonna be okay”

I will never forget Stacy. She was really somethin’
“You coming Johnny?” asked my new partner, the brunette beauty that peered in the doorway, Julie Case. I swung around in my chair, put on my top hat and popped another smoke between my lips. I winked at Julie and followed her out the door.
“Let’s stop off at Al’s first, I’m feelin’ for a jelly donut” I said.

END
Message from the author:
A tribute to the 1930’s mystery novels, may they never die!