Wayne Zurl grew up on Long Island and retired after twenty years with the Suffolk County Police Department, one of the largest municipal law enforcement agencies in New York and the nation. For thirteen of those years he served as a section commander supervising investigators. He is a graduate of SUNY, Empire State College and served on active duty in the US Army during the Vietnam War and later in the reserves. Zurl left New York to live in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains of Tennessee with his wife, Barbara.
Eight (8) of his Sam Jenkins mysteries have been produced as audio books and simultaneously published as eBooks. His first full-length novel, A NEW PROSPECT, was named best mystery at the 2011 Indie Book Awards by the Independent Publishing Professional’s Group. It is also available on Kindle.
For additional information on Wayne’s Sam Jenkins mystery series see www.waynezurlbooks.net. You can read excerpts, reviews and endorsements, interviews, coming events, and even see photos of the area where the stories take place.
Have You Considered Voodoo - Part Four - Conclusion
Have You Considered Voodoo?
By Wayne Zurl
Long Island, New York, July 1977
I cuffed Anthony and walked him over to the Squad. Ten minutes later, Bob Prince from the Juvenile Section showed up.
“I want this bird locked up for the night,” I said. “Can you get me the standby Family Court judge to lodge him and petition him to court in the morning?”
“Good luck!” Prince said.
“Donald Foy is on call tonight. On something important and simple he hates to be called out. For this he’ll go berserk. The guy’s a whack job.”
“This punk has been going around for the last week assassinating animals and smoking grass. That’s why he’s on probation. For chrissake, he’s a serial killer in the making.”
“Foy doesn’t look like an animal lover and where these young assholes are concerned, he’s so liberal, he makes George McGovern look like a Republican.”
Anthony sat in the chair next to my desk picking at his cuticles, listening to our conversation. When I finished, he only moved his eyes to look up at me and grinned like a weasel watching an injured sparrow.
“You want to call this guy’s parents and have them meet us at Family Court?” I said.
“Mother.” Anthony said.
“I only got a mother, no father.”
I wanted to smack the smirk off his face.
“Detective Prince, will you tell the Rocket Man’s old lady where she can find us?”
It took us twenty-five minutes to drive to Family Court. Half way there, I watched lightning crackle in the western sky and a light rain hit the windshield. A uniformed court officer met us at the door. He was the only one present.
After locking the entrance again, he ushered us to Judge Foy’s chambers. We all sat on guest chairs in the hallway.
Twenty minutes later Foy came storming down the hall removing a windbreaker before he reached us. Prince stood up. I followed suit.
“Hello, Judge,” he said, while Foy opened the door and turned on the lights.
“This better be good, Detective. You know I don’t like to be disturbed without good cause.”
I stuck in my two cents. “We had a good reason, Judge.”
“And you are?”
I told him.
“So, what’s your story?”
I told him that, too.
“You want this boy lodged in a secure facility for killing a dog?”
I elaborated one more time.
“Ridiculous. You have no proof of his involvement with the other incidents. Even this is shaky. He’s what, a hundred and thirty pounds? Do you know what will happen to him inside?”
Yeah, I thought, he’ll probably slit his cell-mate’s throat and shit on his bunk.
“Your honor,” I said, “obviously the boy can’t control himself and marijuana seems to control his life. His mother doesn’t have any control over him either.”
Then I let it slip.
“He’s on probation for the same thing and he’ll most likely do more or worse unless you lock him up.”
“Most likely? You come here saying he most likely did other things and he’ll most likely do more of the same. I don’t react to most likely scenarios. I need probable cause to believe. You should know that.”
The judge tried to intimidate me with a cold stare. He was neither big nor bad enough to trouble anyone I knew.
“And where did you learn about his probation and the reason for it? Those records are sealed,” he said.
Foy looked at Prince, who shrugged. I glanced at Anthony. The smirk was back in full force. Now I wanted to smack the kid and the judge.
“There was a field interrogation card made at the time of his arrest. It never got purged from the Precinct file,” I lied. “I assumed you’d want to know his history.”
“I’ll look into this and release him to his parents,” Foy said. “Where are they?”
“His mother is on the way, Judge,” Prince said.
“Judge,” I said, “if you let him go, we’ll only have more of the same. This is a mistake.”
Foy picked up a pen from his blotter and slammed it down for effect. The court officer flinched. Prince closed his eyes for a second. And Anthony kept on smiling.
Foy glared at me. “I’m the court, young man. Don’t you presume to tell me my business!”
I took that as my cue to leave.
“Bobby, I’ll call your office and have a car sent to pick you up.”
I heard Anthony snicker. I turned and walked out, reminding myself not to send Foy a Christmas card.
The court officer followed me and locked the door after I left.
When I finished my set of day tours, I spent two weeks with my wife wandering around New Mexico and northern Arizona. I returned to work for a week of 5 to1s. My in-box was stacked with inter-departmental envelopes and loads of other mail.
At eleven o’clock, Louie DeMarco asked, “Hey, Sam, you get a chance to read any of the tour bulletins from the last couple days?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure, Sergeant.”
“You’ll like this one, kiddo. Ryan’s case. Home invasion on Cedar Avenues, two blocks south of the railroad station. Nine-year-old boy was home alone. Perp slit the poor kid’s throat and took a dump on the living room floor.”
Sam Jenkins never thought about being a fish out of water during the twenty years he spent solving crimes in New York. But things change, and after retiring to Tennessee, he gets that feeling. Jenkins becomes a cop again and is thrown headlong into a murder investigation and a steaming kettle of fish, down-home style.
The victim, Cecil Lovejoy, couldn’t have deserved it more. His death was the inexorable result of years misspent and appears to be no great loss, except the prime suspect is Sam’s personal friend.
Jenkins’ abilities are attacked when Lovejoy’s influential widow urges politicians to reassign the case to state investigators.
Feeling like “a pork chop at a bar mitzvah” in his new workplace, Sam suspects something isn’t kosher when the family tries to force him out of the picture.
In true Jenkins style, Sam turns common police practice on its ear to insure an innocent man doesn’t fall prey to an imperfect system and the guilty party receives appropriate justice.
A NEW PROSPECT takes the reader through a New South resolutely clinging to its past and traditional way of keeping family business strictly within the family.
Wayne will be giving away ten eBook's of A NEW PROSPECT to ten randomly drawn commenter's on August 5.
Lorhainne Eckhart will be giving away three copies of her new release THE CHOICE, to three randomly drawn commenters at the end of the summer hop. Don't forget to leave your contact information when you leave a comment. And remember to visit the other blogs participating in this summer giveaway by clicking on the link I Am A Reader, Not A Writer & BookHounds.