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 6

Ken went straight to Joe’s house from the theater.  When he opened the front door, Tom jumped on him, and smothered him with kisses.

“How was school?” Ken asked.

“It was great.  I love it.  What a fantastic school it is compared to the hell hole I used to go to.”

“What do you mean?” Ken asked.

“The building is very clean, and I didn’t smell any drugs in the building.”

“I can dig that,” Joe said.

Tom continued:  “After every class, the girls were all over me.  I told them I would be happy to be a friend, but that I was gay.”

“You didn’t,” Joe exclaimed.  He had been in the closet so long, he couldn’t believe how easily Tom came out.

“Sure,” Tom said.  “I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Good boy,” Ken interrupted.

“My gaydar got some vibes from a good looking dude in my Spanish class.  I intend to pursue it.”

“That’s good news,” Joe said. “Then maybe you’ll stop trying to get us into bed with you.”

“I’ll never give up on that.  I love you.”

“You’re impossible, Joe and Ken said in unison.

Joe added: “We love you, too.”

“I’m going to my room to do my homework,” Tom said.

Joe served Ken his warmed-up dinner.  While he was eating, Joe said, “Ken, please move in with me.”

“Wow, Ken said.  “Aren’t you being a little premature?”

Joe looked terribly hurt.  “I’m sure about us.  Aren’t you?’

A very awkward domestic moment was saved by Ken’s telephone ringing shrilly.  It was his boss, again.

“Ken, I finally got a report from ballistics on the murder weapon, and I don’t like it.  In fact I’m very upset.”

“Talk!”

“All four victims were murdered with the same gun, and the model and caliber of that gun was issued to everyone in my department.”

Ken was speechless.  When he found his tongue, he said, “You can’t suspect one of us.”

“Of course not, but someone was very careless with where he hid his gun, and I think I may know who it was.”

“Boss, you just really handed me a kick in the nuts.”

“I know.  Look, the computers should be up and running in an hour or so.  Please get to the office early tomorrow.  We have lots to do.”

Ken hung up looking like he had been hit by a commuter bus.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked?”

“It’s beginning to look like the murderer might be a cop; not only a cop, but someone in my department.  I’m sick.”

Joe threw his arms around Ken to comfort him, and Ken rested his head on Joe’s shoulder.  He whispered in Joe’s ear, “Joe honey, I do want us to live together, and I’ll move in as soon as possible.  It’s just that you hit me hard before.  I didn’t expect it.”

“Let’s go to bed, and you can show me how much you love me.”

“It’s awfully early.”

“All the better to spend more time with you, my dear!” Joe laughed, mimicking the big bad wolf from ‘Red Riding Hood’.

They ran up the stairs, and Ken said, “I have one thing to do.’  He opened Tom’s door without knocking.

“Look, squirt,” he said.  “Joe and I are going to fuck, and don’t you dare interrupt us.”  Tom’s jaw hung open, and Ken closed the door.

Joe and Ken made love for four hours.  They each came three times, once orally, once anally, and once manually.  When they were exhausted they wrapped themselves together tighter than mummy wrap, and they finally fell asleep.

In spite of his busy and exhausting night, Ken was in his office a good two hours before anyone else.  He made a dash for Keith’s background check report which was lying right in the middle of his desk.  It was a three page document, but he never got past the first paragraph. 

Keith was born Keith Canella, to James and Francine Canella. 

The victims were murdered by a policeman’s gun, probably a policeman he worked with.  Jim Canella had been staking out in front of Joe’s house for several nights.  The man who was supposed to be protecting him, might well be out to murder him, Joe, and even Tom.

Ken ran into Lt. Morton’s office and closed the door.  Morton had a real office, not a cubicle like he did.  He could hide away there while trying to figure out what to do.

When Lt. Morton came in he was surprised to find Ken slumped over his desk.  He appeared to be asleep.  He shook Ken’s shoulder and he stirred.

“What’s the matter?” Morton asked.

“Read this.  It’s Keith Kane’s background check.”

“I read it all last night.”

“So you know that his father is Jim Canella.”

“I hope you don’t think Jim committed these murders,” Morton said sadly.

“What am I supposed to think?”

“Well, I’m ashamed of you.  If you had read beyond the first paragraph, you would have found someone else with motive.  I called Jim this morning, and told him to come to the station before going home.  He should be here any minute.”

“I want to question him,” Ken said.

“Be my guest.  You can even use my office instead of the interrogation room.  Jim deserves some consideration.”

Moments later, Jim Canella came rushing into Morton’s office.  “What’s up?” he asked with great concern.

“Sit down,” Ken told him, trying hard to control his temper.  Do you know Joe Vincente?”

“You know I do,” Jim sounded irked.  “I’ve been on a stakeout protecting him and you for nearly a week now.  He’s even been giving me breakfast every morning before I head for home.”

“What do you think about his character?  Do you hate him enough to frame him for murder, or worse, murder people he’s fond of?”

“Ken, what kind of drugs are you on?  First of all you know me better than that.  Second of all, Joe’s a saint.  If it wasn’t for him, my son would still be hoofing in a chorus line, trying to get noticed from the rest of the crowd.”

“You know what Joe did for Keith?”

“Of course, everyone in show biz knows, but nobody says anything because Joe wanted it to be anonymous.  I’d lay down my life for him.  I was thrilled when Lt. Morton assigned me to protect you guys.”

Ken couldn’t wait to tell Joe that everyone knew what he did for Keith.

“Geez, Jim.  I keep battling red herrings, and I’m back to square one.”

“I think I may be able to help, Jim said.  “I just found out yesterday about ballistics and that the gun belonged to one of us.  Check my file.  About six months ago, I reported my gun missing.  You can bet I went crazy, and searched every nook and cranny.  Eventually, I had to report it.  I was suspended for a week without pay, and I endured a lot of red tape to get another weapon.”

“You think that whoever stole your gun committed all these murders?” Ken asked.

“I suspected who stole the gun from the very beginning.  I can tell you, Ken, my son is gay.  He was living at the time with a real punk named John Cole.  The guy never worked, and Keith was supporting him with the meager pay of a ‘gypsy’. 

“When Keith got fired from that first musical, they moved in with me.  John and I fought all the time.  I hated his useless guts, and he hated me.  He disappeared the very day my gun went missing.  It’s my opinion that he’s trying to frame me, and if not me, then Joe.  You say you keep getting red herrings thrown in your face.  I think the red herrings are all the evidence John created which lead to Joe.  He knew that Joe got Keith fired, but he wasn’t around when Joe redeemed himself, and gave Keith the role of a lifetime.  John thinks that I detest Joe.  You know yourself that every pathway you took led to a brick wall.”

“Do you have any idea where we could find this guy?  I would sure like a word with him.  He’s devastated more than a few lives.  The problem is that we don’t have any hard evidence linking anyone to the murders except a theater ticket.  We got a fingerprint and DNA off the ticket, but we have nothing to match it to.”

“Ken, the bastard left a couple of sweaters and a baseball cap behind.  Maybe we can get some DNA from the clothing, especially the baseball cap.  That would give us real evidence.”

“Could you run home and get the clothing?” Ken asked.

“I can be quicker than that.  Keith is moving into his own pad next week, but he’s still with me.  I’ll call him, and tell him to rush the stuff down to me.  He might even have a clue where John is.”

“Ask him to bring a picture of John, if he has one.”

When Keith rushed into the station, Ken took the clothing and a picture of John Cole, as Keith fell into his father’s arms.  “Is John in trouble?” he asked.  “I am so sorry I ever had anything to do with that guy.  I was blinded by his big prick, and that’s just what he is, a big prick.

When Ken got back from delivering the clothing to forensics, he asked Keith if he had any idea where John was.

“Not a clue,” Keith answered, “but I do know that his favorite hangout is ‘The Male Room’ in The Village.”

Ken turned to Jim.  “Have you ever been in a gay bar?” he asked.

“Yeah, a couple of times with Keith.”

“How’d you like to go on a stakeout at ‘The Male Room’ with me tonight?”

“It’ll be an absolute pleasure.  I’ve never gone undercover in any bar before, straight or gay.”

“Good,” Ken said.  “We’re about the same size.  Come over to my apartment this evening, and I’ll dress you so sexy, you’ll have to fight off the boys.”

“You lost me with ‘boys’, but I’ll just tell ‘the boys’ I’m with you.”

Ken laughed.  “That way we’ll only have to go in one car.  Parking is tough to impossible in Greenwich Village.”

To be continued...

Posted: 08/17/18