Here are the opening pages to my 13 chapter book "Hunted Down" which traces Pat Canella's rise in he detective ranks and her fight to win a district back from a gang. There is a link in case you wish to get the whole book and read ahead, this story is full of excitement, but please remember attitudes and behaviour are of the 1940's, so ladies you may be offended by the chauvinistic men.
Pat Canella (The
Dockland Murders)
I stood there, the gun still warm in
my hand, barrel smoking from the gun battle.
“Why did he do that, Sarge? I tried my best to talk him out of it.”
“Living with the guilt finally got
to him, Patti.”
“Couldn’t he have talked it over?”
“No, the only thing worse than being
a dirty cop, is being the son of a loose cannon, and none came looser than Bill
Chart, Patti.”
I looked around. There lay the body of Bill's son, my
ex-partner, Adrian Chart.
“I had no choice, he pulled first,
Sarge," I said through my tears.
“I know, Patti, we all saw it. Nobody blames you. It was his way out.”
The last thing I remember was the
Sarge saying in a soft tone, "Take a week off Patti, something like this
will haunt you. I know. I have been there myself.” Dazed, I stood there, trying to remember how
it had all started . . .
* * *
I'd wanted an office and had
pestered the sergeant for months for a place to work. For my sins, I'd got this dark and dingy
office with paperwork piled high of old, unsolved murders. The air was dank with the musty smell of old
paper, a place where light had long gone missing. This was Middleton Detective Agency. Even
hardened drunks avoided this run down area of town. Sitting at the back of the office, I looked
in desolation at the pile of old cases, Sgt. Pug Phillips had recently dumped
on me.
“Why don’t I get anything
good?” I muttered, knowing nobody was
listening, or if they were, they didn't care.
Cold coffee was still on the table from last night, the ring marks
showing how I had spent the long, hot and humid days at Middleton going over
old and long-forgotten cases which had been given to me just so I'd have
something to do
“A young girl, trying to do a man's
job" is what the crew said on that first day months ago.”
Here I was, stuck at the back end of nowhere,
in a dark office so lonely I had to get my own coffee and doughnuts. The guys
never took any notice. I often wondered
if they would notice if I just didn't turn up. “
I'd never been a girlie girl. I was always looking for a mystery to solve
rather than play with dolls or admire film stars. And this was my reward! All I have is deadbeat job in a run-down
office, in the worst part of town.
Sometimes, I wish I'd just got
married like the others; had a nice cozy life and a good husband, I muttered to
myself – then, ‘Hell, no! Patti. Where did that come from, gal?” The drudgery and boredom were getting to
me. All these cases! Some go back to the '20's. Most of the witnesses are dead now, I mumbled
under my breath. Trust me to get cases that are not only cold, but deader than
the dodo.
Sitting there alone, I was surprised
to hear a knock on the door. I was more
surprised that anyone knew where I was.
Standing in the doorway was an old man, leaning on his cane.
“Please come in
and sit down.”
“Thank you, young lady," he
said. "I have information on an old case, you might like to re-open.”
“Why not ask at the desk?”
“They closed the book years ago, and
don’t want old wounds re-opened, that is why.”
“Which case is this?”
“It's one from the '20s. It was the
Morrissey & Jeffries case.”
“What can you tell me about it and
why should we re-open it now?”
“I am telling you about it because my
spirit is crossing and I want to clear this case up. You get it re-opened, and I will let you know
what I know.”
“How can I trust you?”
“Just tell Pug, that Dennis spoke to
you.”
The man got up and walked back down
the corridor. When I got up to see which way he went, all I saw was a whiff of
smoke. Looking through the case files I
was totally disheartened to see how many had just been left open, with no
closure for the families. Back then, the
force could not spare the manpower to chase up leads, what with all the
gangsters and bootlegging.
With Mayor Johnson going for a
second term, he needed to show power to the mobs, so all the force was put on
alert and other crimes became second rate.
“So sad," I thought. "These poor people never had closure.”
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