Murder On The Hudson
 by: Hankster

© 2009 by the author

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

Chapter 4

“Chief,” I whispered through the bars.  “We have to question the night guards.  Unless they were asleep or unless they are the murderers, they must have heard something.”

“You’re right,” he said.  “I’ll call them.”  He whipped out his cell phone and I thought that rank indeed has its privileges.  The cops had confiscated the cell phones from the rest of us.

In a moment the Chief and I were released from our cells and taken to the front office.  As we left, I could hear the moans and groans of the rest of the men.  There were two officers on duty and they were useless in shedding any light on the matter.  They informed us that one or the other of them had checked the cells every hour on the hour.  The duty officer had shined his flashlight on everyone as he passed the cell.  Elroy’s body was discovered at 4 AM.  The duty officer called for his companion.  They administered CPR to no avail.  They called the medical examiner who arranged to have the body removed to the morgue for autopsy.  Both of them swore that they had seen nothing and heard nothing, and that nobody could get into the cell without a key. 

They returned Jason and me to our cells where we both tried to get a little rest before breakfast.  I lay down on the cot and tried to piece things together.  Back at the house, my prime suspect was Larry.  He had motive and opportunity in each instance of murder.  But he acted like a sniveling coward each time a body was discovered.  It occurred to me that if he worked for Monte, he might well be an actor, and if so, he was a damned good one.  But Larry had no opportunity to murder Elroy in this jail.  That made Jason my chief suspect.         He had been allowed to keep his cell phone, or if that was not the case, his men had not searched him and he simply retained it.  If he had the phone, maybe he had a key to the cells.  If he had a key, then he became a prime suspect.  But how did he get a knife?

So where did that put me?  Nowhere!  Perhaps Jason and Larry were in cahoots with each other.  That could well be.  Both were pissed that Monte had replaced them in his bedroom, and the chief resented that Monte kept his current bed partner off limits to everyone else.  The more I thought about it, the more sense it made.

As for the victims they were real innocents.  They had come out to the country for a sex filled weekend.  They knew that they could have sex with anyone at the party.  They would never suspect that anyone coming anywhere near them, would have intentions of murder.  I shuddered at the thought, and my heart went out to the victims, and to the rest of us intended victims.  I vowed to get little or no sleep until I was out of this place.  I lay awake grasping every little sound and trying to interpret it. 

Soon the cell block began to lighten, heralding another sunny, warm Sunday morning.  The morning watch arrived with trays of food, and announced that the prison chaplain would arrive soon and would hold a Sunday Service for those of us who cared to attend.  Strangely, everyone felt the need to attend, even Harry, who was a Muslim.  His real name was Hareem.

After a pitiful breakfast (considering yesterday’s gourmet feast) the guards escorted us to a small chapel.  The chaplain this morning was Father Flynn, a Roman Catholic priest.  There was some mumbling from the group because there was not a catholic among us.  Father Flynn began to laugh.  “You’ll have to put up with me today,” he said.  “Last week Rabbi Cohen conducted the service.”  The men laughed and relaxed, and the priest gave a modified service that could offend nobody, not even Harry.  I don’t know if the good Father was clued in or not, but his homily that morning concerned the commandment that we shall not commit murder, and the story of Cain and Abel.  I wondered if Father Flynn was aware that the first victim was named Abel.  I looked around and could not see that anyone was fidgeting in his seat.

When the service came to a close, Father Flynn blessed us, wished us well, and left to serve mass at his own church.  The guards told us to stand and march out single file.  We all stood, except Francis.  He was seated two spaces to my left.  Larry was between us.

“You,” one of the guards yelled at Francis, “stand up,”

Francis did not move so Larry nudged his shoulder and he fell over, knocking down three chairs along the way.  I rushed over and could clearly smell the same poison that I had smelled on Barry.  I had begun to grab the body, but when I smelled the poison, I stopped dead in my tracks.  One of the guards ran over to assess the situation. 

“Take the rest back to their cells and lock them up good and tight,” he yelled to his co-worker.  “This one’s dead.”

Back in my cell, I tried hard to think through this new turn of events.  Our breakfast trays were served to us individually in our cells.  The only people who could have tampered with the meals were the preparers and/or the servers.  Could Jason have a whole army of coconspirators?  It boggled my mind.  Anyway, I really had no evidence to link Jason to the murders.  It was all just a hunch, and my hunch included Larry also.  What if I was barking up the wrong tree?  What if it was someone else entirely, and I was missing all the evidence?  Think hard, I kept telling myself.  There are only three more possible victims before Chief Jason, and then I’m next.

As was to be expected, every remaining one of us refused our lunch trays.  Actually, the only one in immediate danger was Grant. I wondered if we could all go hungry for two more days.  Did we dare trust the water?  I was beginning to get more and more miserable.  After what would have been our lunch break, we were all escorted into a court yard.  There we could enjoy the beautiful day and toss around a baseball.  We were grateful for the recreation time, although I would have preferred hanging out at Monte’s pool. 

The best part of the walk to the courtyard was that we passed a water fountain in the hallway.  I had seen guards drinking from the fountain so I did not hesitate to quench my thirst.  Once I did that, everyone followed suit.

In the courtyard Harry and I started to jog in a tight circle.  The space we had was rather limited.  Monte sat down on a small bench and turned his face to the sun.  His eyes were puffy and red.  The murders, especially those in his own home, had really gotten to him.  Grant, Larry, Ian and Jason went to the four corners of the yard.  They began to toss a baseball.  One of the guards had provided mitts and a hard ball.  I laughed inwardly thinking that wasn’t the hard ball they had in mind late Friday afternoon.

I was in great shape and before I even began to breathe hard, Harry gave up on jogging.  He pushed Monte over and filled the rest of the small bench.  I continued to jog, but desperately instructed my peripheral vision to be vigilant. 

Finally, I gave up jogging, not because I was tired, but because I didn’t want to lose sight of anyone in the courtyard.  I sat down on the ground at the feet of the two men on the bench.   We watched the guys tossing the ball, our heads following the ball all around the courtyard.  It occurred to me that I shouldn’t be doing that.  I should be trying to keep my eyes on all four of them at once, but even watching three of them at one time was difficult.

When Grant fell, I only saw it out of the corner of my eye, but I did see it.  He was two men away from receiving the ball.  Suddenly his head snapped backwards and he fell.  Jason and I ran right over, followed by a prison guard, but the others were frozen in disbelief.  Grant was lying on his back and his face was a bloody sight.  A small pellet protruded from his right eye.  I wanted to vomit.

It was beginning to look more and more like the murderer was not Monte, Larry or any of the guests.  As the guards removed Grant’s body, I looked around the courtyard.  Three sides were walled and all three walls were heavily treed, affording total privacy.  The fourth wall wasn’t a wall at all.  It was the prison itself.  The prison was three stories in all.  The bottom two floors had no windows, but there were windows on the third floor.  I asked the chief if there were offices on that level and he affirmed that there were.

“Somebody could have shot a dart from any of those windows,” I said to the Chief.  “If you were at the center window, you would have a clear view and a clear shot to the four corners of the yard where the guys tossing the baseball were standing.”

“Are you saying that one of my men is a serial killer?” Jason asked me incredulously.

“Jason,” I answered, “Nothing makes sense so anything is possible.  You and I need to go unto a huddle with Monte.  Like they say it’s time for the truth and nothing but the truth.  Please arrange it with your staff.”

Out came Jason’s cell phone again, and in just a few minutes, he, I and Monte were taken to a small interrogation room.  As soon as we were comfortably seated, the guard left us alone and secured the door to the room.

“May I go first, Chief?  I need to ask Monte some questions which hopefully will shed some light on this whole mess.  You can fire away after me,” I said.

“Sure.” the chief said, and I began.

“Monte, who had access to your guest list?”

“Just Larry and me.  Why do you ask?”

I ignored Monte’s question and proceeded.  “What about the person who did the calligraphy?” I asked.  I could see that Monte became visibly upset. 

“Anything wrong?” I asked him.

“No, no, I just forgot about him.  I’m sorry I can’t reveal his identity.”

“You’ll bloody well reveal it, or I’ll have you arrested on seven counts of murder,” the chief yelled at Monte.

“You can’t do that,” Monte sobbed.  “I’m not a murderer.”

“Maybe not, but maybe the fancy guy who addressed your invitations is.”

Monte looked at me.  His eyes were pleading.  I was not sympathetic and I let him know.  Why was he protecting this guy?  Did Monte have feelings for this possible killer?

“You’d better tell us,” I said or we can hold you for accessory to murder and suspicion of murder.  You’re in deep shit, Monte, so speak.”

Monte grabbed his head between his hands and shook his head back and forth.  “How could this be happening to me?” he sobbed.

“Talk!” the chief said ferociously.

Monte looked straight into Jason’s eyes.  “The man who did the calligraphy is Norman Sharpe,” he murmured.  Jason gasped.

“Who’s Norman Sharpe?” I asked.

“Norman is one of my deputies.  He’s one of the two that came to the house yesterday.  Is he one of your conquests?” he disdainfully asked Monte.

“It’s more like I’m one of his,” Monte hissed back.  “We met in a gay bar in Manhattan about a year ago.  We recognized each other from Nyack.  Norm had come into town by bus and I offered to drive him back home.  He ended up begging me to let him spend the night with me, and he spent many more nights to come.”

“So,” the chief said, “by letting him address the invitations to your weekend affair, you outed me.”

“I swear Jason, I never thought about that.  I even told him that I couldn’t invite him because it was a business party, and that just business associates from the city would be there.  I thought that he was cool with that.”

“Has he ever indicated to you that he wanted a committed relationship or that he was jealous of your other bedmates?” I asked.

“No never, I swear. Norm is married and has a slew of kids.”  I looked at Jason and he nodded at me.  I could appreciate why Monte wanted to protect Norm on many levels.

“Chief,” I said, “I’d like to talk to Larry again.  I have some more questions.”  The chief was really very obliging.  He took out his cell phone and in no time a guard brought Larry in and took Monte out.

Larry looked at us very belligerently.  “What the fuck!  How many times are you going to question me?  I’m scared shitless as it is and I don’t feature being a suspect,” he screamed at us.

“Like it or not,” I said, “You are a suspect.  Now tell me, how well do you know Norman Sharpe?”

“Well enough,” Larry answered.  “He was a frequent guest at the house and I served him more than one breakfast.  That’s as far as it went.  He was a guest in Monte’s bed, and as you both well know that put him out of bounds for me.”

“Did he come around to the house anytime since Friday afternoon?” I asked. 

“Yes, of course,” Larry answered.  “He was one of the two men who answered your initial call, Chief.  As far as I know that was the only time he came around to the house.”

Jason got on his cell phone again.  He was speaking to one of his men.  “I know Norm is off today, but find him and tell him to get his ass down to the jail ASAP.  Thanks, and come get Larry will you.”

Just as a guard came to take Larry back to his cell, Jason’s phone rang.  He listened intently and then hung up.

“Norm’s wife said that he went fishing with some buddies.  She doesn’t expect him home until late tomorrow.  The guard tried Norm’s cell phone and it’s turned off,” he informed me.  Then as an afterthought, “I’ll bet he and his buddies are not doing a hell of a lot of fishing, except maybe up their asses.”

One of the guards came back in the room and suggested that we allow him to take us back to our cells.  The courtyard was now a crime scene and we survivors were more or less confined to quarters.   Back in my cell, I fell back on my cot and attempted to sleep.  I must have finally dozed off because I had an erotic dream.  It was Friday night and Monte was fucking my face.  I knew from his sighs that he was enjoying my technique.  I was pleasuring him and that pleasured me. 

When I awoke I could tell by the sunlight that it was late afternoon.  My cock was outside my underwear and I was stroking it.  I was about to cum so I pulled down my shorts, and I let it happen.  There was a sink, soap and a towel in each cell and I used those items to clean myself.

As I was doing that I could tell that there was a lot of whispering going on in Jason’s cell.  I quickly put on my gym shorts and my tank top just as a guard opened my cell door and beckoned me to come with him.

I found myself back in the interrogation room with Jason and two guards.  They all looked pretty grim.  “What now?” I asked.

“Tell him Jim,” Jason instructed.

“Harry called me to his cell about an hour ago.  He asked if he could get a small area carpet that he could use as a prayer rug.  He wanted to be taken to the chapel where he could perform afternoon prayers.  He told me that he had long ago abandoned his religion, but in light of the events of the last two days, he felt a strong need for prayer.  I took him to the chapel.  I don’t know the protocol for Muslim prayer so I left him alone.  There’s only one door to the chapel so I closed it and stood guard outside.  I had no idea how long his prayers should last so after about twenty minutes, when he still had not come out, I went to investigate.”

“Don’t tell me,” I said.

“Yes, you guessed it.  His throat was slit and he was a goner.  I searched every bit of the chapel.  There was nobody there and no means of entrance or exit except for the door where I stood guard.  It was one thing for the murderer to succeed in his heinous endeavors in Monte’s mansion, but so many murders right here in jail, that’s mind boggling.”  Jim faced Jason.  “We’re in deep shit,” he said.

“This is sad, Jason,” I said.  “We actually played right into the murderer’s hands this time.  Whoever he is, he must have figured the one place that would not be used any more today was the chapel so he hid there.  Obviously Harry was his next victim, and we conveniently delivered the boy to him.  Nobody was supposed to be left alone, and it happened.”

“It’s not going to happen again,” the chief said emphatically.  “Jim, move another cot into my cell, and move Ian in.  Then put another cot in Ken’s cell and move Larry in there.  That will leave Monte alone, but he’s last on the list, if he is on the list.  So watch his cell extra carefully.”

Jim was about to leave when Jason said, “And keep on trying to reach Norm, will you?”

To be continued...

Posted: 03/20/09