Mama Law and the Moonbeam Racer. Fred Yorg

      “What time did she die?”

      “Hold on, I’ve got to look that one up. The coroner placed her time of death at midnight.”

      “Anything else, that was common to all four victims other than being strangled on a Saturday night?”

      “In each case there were no signs of forced entry, no signs of drugs or alcohol, and none of the victims were sexually violated. Oh, and they were all murdered in their living rooms.”

      “I’ve got to admit Mooney, I don’t see a damn thing either. The only common thread is he strangles his victims every Saturday night with a red necktie. What about the ties?”

      “Nothing, they were cheap red neckties bought off the rack. No prints, no labels. No way of even tracing them back to the manufacturer let alone a store.”

      “You always wear a red tie Mooney.”

      “Very funny, Chief.”

      “Glad to see you’ve got your sense of humor back. But seriously Miles, what do you make of the significance of red neckties.”

      “The color of red could signify anger. It could also be associated with death, blood, power over the victim. The fact that he strangles the victim indicates to me that it’s personal. More than that it’s very difficult to say.”

      “Anything you can say for sure?”

      “The killer is smart, cautious and careful and one thing I am sure of, he’s not going to stop.”

      “So what we’ve got is a smart sociopath with no predictable pattern.”

      No one spoke for a moment, “I’m afraid that’s it, Chief,” Miles replied.

      “Miles, why bother speaking if that’s all you got to say. I assume you’ve checked out the state hospitals for anyone that’s gone missing or just got out.”

      “First thing we did, Chief, we also checked everyone just released from jail,” Miles replied. “None of them even remotely fit the profile of our boy.”

      “Chief, let’s be straight. We’re going to need a lot of luck to catch this bastard. He’s like a ghost, no prints, nobody sees him, nothing. We need all the help we can get and there’s still no guarantees that we’re going to catch him.”

      “That’s pretty much what I thought, Miles. Tonight, every blue uniform I can spare will be out there. I’m going to assign Tony and Max to the upper west side unless you can come up with a better place to use them.”

      “Tony and Max are you kidding? Why don’t you give them the night off,” I asked sarcastically.

      “What’s your problem?”

      “My problem is that they’re useless. Besides they’ve got their own agenda. They’ll be out tonight combing the streets for T-Bone Higgins.”

      “What the hell are you talking about?”

      “T-Bone jumped bail and that sleazy bail bondsman from center city, Jew Cohan’s got paper on him. You know he takes care of Tony and Max on the side.”

      “No, I don’t know that. And right now, I don’t need to hear this shit from you. I’ve got bigger problems, it’s closing in on 6:30 p.m., now you and Miles go over everything again and then get your ass out on the street and catch me a killer. Don’t worry about Tony and Max. They work for me. Are we clear? Now the two of you can get the hell out of here and send Max and Tony in. I want to talk to them.”

CHAPTER TWO

      We left the chief’s office with our tails between our legs. Miles hollered over to Tony and Max and told them the chief wanted to see them.

      I lingered by the water cooler as they walked by, “Mooney, what’s the old bastard want with us?” Tony asked in a less than congenial manner.

      Not caring for the way he asked or his tone I’d thought I’d bust his balls a little, “Wants to talk to you and Max about your side business. You know, bounty hunting for fun and profit.?”

      Tony and Max just gave me a dirty look as they brushed by. Miles gave them a nervous smile and quickly turned away avoiding their gaze.

      “Mooney, was that really necessary? Why did you have to do that number with the chief and Tony? We really don’t need this. Now, they’re both pissed off at both of us and I haven’t said a goddamn word.”

      “Sorry Miles, you’re probably right. I guess I’m just getting sick and tired of always drawing from a short deck. You know what I mean? We’re out there day after day, breaking our humps and what do we get? We get to have our asses reamed. Tony and Max just go through the motions while being on Jew Cohan’s payroll and they draw the same pay as us. Does that seem fair to you?”

      “No, of course not. But, like it or not, that’s the way it is. Nothing’s gonna change. Let’s get a cup of coffee and go over the case files in the conference room, maybe something will click.”

      “Yeah.”

      We walked over to the coffee table and Miles poured out two cups of the high octane. From the corner of my eye I noticed Mavis Poladin making her way over to us. Mavis was a junior detective, relatively new to our department. She was a big boned girl, strong of both stature and will. Her brown mousy hair was closely cropped, her build boxy, not fat but sturdy. In truth, there was little that was feminine about her, even her tone and gait was straightforward and manly. Tony and Max had been undermining her ever since she joined the department; taking cheap shots behind her back. Speculating that she was a lesbian. Of course, when they talked about her, they commonly used the words dike or he/she. I’m not quite certain that Mavis knew they were talking about her but Miles and I did and neither one of us appreciated it. As far as we were concerned, it was no one’s business but her own. The only thing we concerned ourselves with was how she did her job; and on that front we had no complaints. We knew about her past record as a police officer, the way she had worked her way up from the streets. She’d spent six years on foot patrol in a tough district, and we knew first hand that was a tough road. The only time Miles and I had occasion to work with her was six months ago, during a nasty hostage situation on the roof top of Papa Who’s bar over on the south side. Unfortunately, while Miles was trying to negotiate with the deranged man, an over eager member of the SWAT team took a pot shot at him, hitting the very person we were there to save. From there the situation escalated and got out of control. Miles and I were pinned down in a corner of the rooftop with little cover. When the bullets started flying Mavis did her job and more. She shimmied up an old rusted fire escape and somehow worked her way behind the abductor.

      Clinging perilously from the roof top with one hand holding onto the top ledge, she somehow managed to get off a shot. Luckily for Miles and I, her aim was true. If not for her, Miles and I may well have been shot or worse. We owed her.

      “Hey guys, what’s up?”

      “Damn red necktie murders. Miles and I were just going to the conference room to go over the files.”

      “My shifts over, do you mind if I tag along?”

      “Certainly not, we’d both be glad to have you, Mavis. Maybe a new set of eyes will see something we haven’t.”

      “I don’t know about that, you guys are pretty thorough. Oh, by the way Mooney, your girlfriend Hope called when you were in with the chief. Said she had to fly out of town tonight on business, asked if you could meet her over at the Shady Cage around 8 p.m. down on east 29th Street for a quick drink.”

      “Did she leave a number?”

      “No, she said she was leaving the office.”

      “Damn it, of all the places to pick. The Shady Cage is off limits for us, besides we’ve got to be out on the street tonight.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous we’ve got plenty of time. Besides I want to meet this mystery girl, the hell