Who's Afraid of Joe Vincente
A Kenneth Hall Mystery
 

 by: Hankster

© 2018 by the author

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

hankster@tickiestories.us

Chapter 3

When Ken took Joe home, Lt. Morton had a very disquieting thought.  Joe Vincente had pointed out that Ken might be on the perps ‘to killlist’.  He shuddered to think that someone might want to do harm to Ken.  He whipped out his cell phone and asked to speak to Det. Canella.  When Jim Canella got on the phone, Morton issued a few instructions, and the two men hung up.

All the Brownstones on Joe’s street were built about the same time and had similar architecture.  To get to the front door, you had to climb up six steps.  But there was also a cellar entrance, which was reached by walking down six steps from the street.

After Jim spoke to his boss, he got into his unmarked car, and proceeded to uptown Manhattan’s east side, specifically to the house of Joe Vincente.  He made only one stop at a twenty-four hour diner.  He bought a burger, fries and a coke, and settled in for an all-night stakeout.

It was quite late now, and he had no trouble parking right in front of Joe’s front door.  He was further blessed with a street light shining brightly right in front of the house.  It illuminated the stairs going up and down.  Jim ate his food, but kept a watchful eye on the house.  After about two hours, he found himself needing to pee badly.  This was not his first stakeout.  He kept a hospital urinal in the trunk of his car.  He got out, opened the trunk, and retrieved the urinal.  He got back in the car, and peed, nearly filling up the receptacle.  He saw a sewer a couple of houses up, so he left the car again and spilled his urine down the sewer.  He had no way to wash the urinal so he placed it back in the trunk of his car, where he hoped it wouldn’t smell too badly.

Jim was a well-trained detective.  He knew that he had taken his eyes off the house for a few seconds … twice.  He could clearly see the front entrance from the street, but he could not see the cellar door, which had been used as a servants’ entrance and a delivery entrance in earlier days.  He walked up to the iron railing, and looked over.  Sure enough, there was someone trying to jimmy open the door with a crowbar.  The perp was wearing a hoodie, and from his vantage point, Jim could not tell if it was a small man or a woman.

He drew his gun, started down the stairs, and ordered the perp to put his hands up in the air.  The perp’s arms shot up in a nano second.

“Please don’t shoot,” the voice of a teen-ager begged.  “I ain’t got a gun.” 

“Put your hands on the wall,” Jim ordered. 

The youngster did as he was told and Jim frisked him.  He had told the truth.  He had no weapons on him, except the crowbar he was using to force open the door.  That could certainly be considered a weapon in a court of law.  Jim couldn’t leave his post, so he was just about to call the station to come pick the boy up, when he thought that maybe Ken, or Mr. Vincente, who lived here, might know the kid.  Instead of calling the station, he dialed Ken’s number, which he had stored in his speed dial.

The incessant ringing of Ken’s phone awakenedhim and Joe.  Jim told Ken who he was, and that he had a suspect, whom he had just caught breaking and attempting to enter.  He was going to run him in, but he thought that the men in the house might know him, or want to question him first.

“I sure do want to question him.  I’ll be at the front door in a second,” Ken said.

Joe and Ken ran downstairs and opened the front door.  They stared at Jim, who was holding a crowbar, and at a sniveling young teenager.  Jim was surprised. He didn’t expect these guys to be fully dressed.  It was the middle of the night after all.

The three adults brought the young boy into the living room and removed his jacket so that he had no place to hide his face.  They were all shocked.  The boy had the face of an angel.  Ken and Joe thought that he was the cutest kid they had ever seen.

“Why were you trying to break into my house?” Joe asked.

“Please, Mister, I never done nothin’ like this before, but I’m so hungry.”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Joe said, trying not to sound too severe, and frightening the boy.

“I got no home,” the boy said.  “I was told that all the people who live on this street are filthy rich.  I just wanted to raid the refrigerator for a little food, and take something valuable, like a silver tray.  I figured I could fence it and get a few bucks.”

“Why are you homeless?  Where are your parents?” Jim asked.

“My mom died when I was real little, and my dad hates me.  He caught me giving a blow job to my next door neighbor.  The guy paid me to do it.  My dad kicked my neighbor out of the house, and threatened to call the police.  He kicked me out too, and said he never wanted to see me again.”

The kid started to cry crocodile tears, and Ken asked, “Are you gay, or were you just giving head to make money?  You know, like gay for pay.”

“I’m gay.  I offered my neighbor a good time for ten bucks.”

The boy continued to cry, so Ken turned to Jim.  “Now my friend,” he said, “what were you doing outside Joe’s house anyway?”

“Lt. Morton ordered me on a stakeout.  He feared for your safety, and Mr. Vincente’s.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Ken said, “why don’t you return to your car, and do your thing.  We’ll take care of the boy.  We’ll give him a good meal and a bed to sleep in, and figure out what to do with him in the morning.”

“Sure.  That’s fine by me.”

“Before you leave would you like something to eat?” Joe asked.

“No thanks.  I’ve eaten.”

“Do you have to pee?”

“I’ve done that, too.”

As soon as Jim left to continue his vigil, Ken turned to Joe.  “Hey, sweetie,why don’t you get handsome here something to eat, while I question him further?”

When Ken called Joe ‘sweetie’ the boy’s eyes opened to saucer size.

Joe hurried out of the room, and he headed to the kitchen.  Ken sat down next to the boy, and put his arms around him.  The boy seemed to relax.

“What’s your name?” Ken asked.”

“Tomas, Tomas Guzman.  Everyone calls me Tom.”

“How old are you, Tom?”

“I’ll be sixteen, this Sunday.”

“There are dozens of Brownstones on this street.  How did you happen to pick this one?”

Before he could answer, Joe came in with a ham sandwich, a glass of milk and Oreo Cookies.  When he saw the food, especially the cookies, Tom’s smile lit up the room.  He grabbed at the food, and ate the whole tray so quickly, Ken wondered if he might not gag.  The kid wasn’t kidding.  He was very hungry.

“I asked you how you came to choose this house over all the others,” Ken reminded Tom.

“Last night, I was cold and hungry.  I was walking on Tenth Avenue in midtown Manhattan.  I always get lucky there.  Guys take me home, feed me, and have sex with me.  Some pay me very well, but most of them are chintzy.  Anyway, last night I approached some guy, or he approached me, I can’t remember which.  He took me home, and gave me some left over Chinese food, and five bucks.  I gave him a blow job, and when I was getting ready to leave, I told him how grateful I was to be in a warm place.  I admitted that it was getting too cold to walk the streets, and even though I had never done it before, I intended on robbing houses to support myself.  I told him that I would prefer robbing small momma – poppa stores, but I had no weapon.

“He laughed, and said that he would show me where the richest people in the world lived.  He assured me that whatever I took from them, they would never miss it.  He drove me to this street.  It wasn’t very far away, just a few streets from where he lives.  He pointed out this house as being the richest.  He told me to hide out until it was really dark before breaking in.  As he let me out of the car, he gave me that crowbar.”

Tom pointed out the implement Jim had confiscated from him.  Ken immediately called Jim to get back in the house.  When Jim was inside, Ken pointed at the crowbar which was lying on a chair.

“There’s a good possibility that this crowbar has the murderer’s fingerprints and DNA besides the boy’s, yours and mine.  Pick it up with a rubber glove, and get it to forensics ASAP.”

“I can’t leave you two alone.  I’d be disobeying Morton.”

“Look we’re up and awake.  We can secure the house.  The guy who turned Tom on to this house isn’t going to find a jimmied door.  We’ll be perfectly safe.  You can come back after you deliver the evidence.  I’d appreciateif you gave me a ride home in the morning to get some clean clothes.  I can shower here.”

“You win,” Jim said.  He picked up the crowbar with a gloved hand, and beat it out of there.  He wanted to deliver the evidence and get right back.

As soon as Jim left, Ken directed his attention back to Tom.  “What was the man’s name?” he asked. 

“I don’t know.  He never told me, and I didn’t ask.”

“Would you know how to get back to his house from here?”

“Not really.  I didn’t pay attention.”

“I want you to think real hard, Tom.  Was there something about the street the man lives on that stood out for you and that you might remember?”

“Like what?”

“Like maybe a house painted with a strange color.”

“You sound just like a cop,” Tom said.  “Are you?”

“Yes, and you can help us catch a killer, so I ask you once again.  Think hard.  Was there anything distinctive about the man’s street?”

Tom closed his eyes.  You could see him concentrating hard.  Suddenly his eyes opened wide, and they lit up. 

“Yes,” he said “there was something.  I’ve heard about letter boxes, and I’ve seen pictures, but I’ve never seen one in real life.  As we turned on to his street, I saw a mail box on the corner, and the man lived a couple of houses up from the box.”

Ken hugged Tom and started kissing him all over his face.  “You’re the smartest kid I ever met,” Ken said, “but you desperately need a shower.  Strip.  I’ll throw your clothes in the washing machine.”

“I’ll take him upstairs, and see that he showers.  Then I’ll put him to sleep in the guest room,” Joe said.  “In the meantime, you call your precinct, or whoever you have to call.”

Ken got an evil smile on his face.  “My boss has awakened me many times in the middle of the night.  I think I’ll call him.  Turnabout’s fair play.”

Ken filled in a sleepy Lt. Morton, who got genuinely excited about the events of the evening. 

“First thing in the morning,” he said, “I’ll get a team working with the post office to find that box.  And as for you, Detective, there will be no sleeping in.  I want you at the station first thing in the morning.”

Ken had an urge to say, “Jawohl, mein fuhrer,” but of course, he didn’t.

He ran upstairs to see how Joe was making out.  He found Joe in the shower with Tom.  Tom had an erection, but thank God, Joe was flaccid.  Ken needed a shower, so he decided to join them and diffuse any sexual tension.

The two and a half men frolicked for a long time, and got themselves nice and clean.  They dried themselves, and Ken and Joe had every intention of getting back in bed totally naked.  They still had a couple of hours to play.  They had no clean clothes for Tom so they tucked him into bed naked also.  They couldn’t help noticing that Tom was fully mature for a sixteen-year-old.  He was uncut and lusciously inviting.  The two adults forced themselves to erase all their carnal thoughts.

When he was all settled in bed, Tom shocked them.  “I’ll be going back on the streets tomorrow,” he said.  “I’ll need money.  I can give you both blowjobs, or you can fuck me, if you’ll give me a few bucks.”

Ken and Joe gasped.  Ken got his voice first.  “First of all, Tom, you aren’t going back on the streets.  Joe and I intend to take care of you.”

“You bet,” Joe said.  “I know a couple of judges, who owe me big time.  I’ll bet I could get one of them to get me appointed as your guardian.”  He wanted to say that the judges were on his payroll, but that would be too much information for the young man.

“Yes,” Ken continued, so you see you won’t be going hungry and you won’t need any money.  Joe here has plenty of money.  As for blow jobs and fucking, do you see this handsome guy here who’s going to take care of all your financial needs?  He gives me all the loving I can handle, and I do the same for him.”  Your services will not be required.”

“Shit,” Tom said, “I really wanted to do it?”

Everyone was laughing as Joe shut the light in the guest room.

******

A few streets away, a frustrated young man was pounding a wall with his fist.  The young boy, who was going to break Joe’s door for him, got himself arrested before he could complete the job.  He had to find another way to get into Joe’s house and kill him.

“What else could go wrong?” he wondered.  He decided to go back to the drawing board, and make new plans to murder Joe.

Any trained professional, who might analyze the man’s failed attempts at murderand robbery, would surely have labeled him as a rank amateur.

Even he knew he had to do better. 

To be continued...

Posted: 08/03/18