Counter Blow by Robert F. Clifton (books to read as a couple TXT) 📖

Monastery, Running Deer, Montana.

At the first sight of a telephone booth Pilgrim entered, placed his leather bag on the cement sidewalk, placed a nickle in the slot then dialed a number.

“Hello?”

“Cool Loo. I got what you been looking for”, said Pilgrim.

“Yeah? And what that be?”

“The location of the priest”.

“You ain't tryin to bullshit me now are you?”

“Man, why would I do that. You ask me to be reading the rectory mail and I did”.

“Alright, when you get to the shoe shine stand you give what you got to old Frank Beal. He'll see that I get it. If it be what I want then I'll handle it my way. Tomorrow, you go by Franks stand again. He give you the letter. You make sure it gets delivered. You hear what I'm sayin?”

“Yeah, I got it. What's happens on my end?”, asked Pilgrim.

“You got two C's comin bro”.

“That's cool”.

“That's what they call me. Cool Loo”.

Ed Parsons uttered a happy laugh as he reeled in a large cut throat trout. His guide netted the fish and asked Ed what he wanted to do with it. “Release it he replied.” As he stood examining the fly on his line he asked. “Do they hear confessions at the monastery”.

“Yes. Everyday except Sunday from nine in the morning until three in the afternoon.

“Thank you”, Parsons replied as he cast his line hoping to catch another fish.

On Sunday Ed Parsons sat and listened to the young priest saying the Mass, When it was time for the Eucharist Parsons knelt and opened his mouth. Father Presti placed the wafer and said, “The Body Of Christ. Parson made the sign of the cross after taking the wine.

The next say at ten o'clock in the morning. Parson parked his automobile in front of the Church Of Saint John. He got out of the car and walked to where a monk was pulling weeds. “Could you tell me where Father Presti is?”

“Yes, right now he is hearing confessions”.

“Thank you, to tell you the truth I'm way behind in saying mine”, said Parsons as he left and went inside. He walked down the epistle side of the nave passing aisles of pews, then he stopped in front of the confessional.

Parson opened the door to the booth and went inside and sat down. When the small screen was slid open, he said, “Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession.”

“And, what have been your transgressions??”asked the priest.

“I am sorry father. I have a hearing problem?”

Father Presti moved his head close to the screen. When he did Parsons Fired three forty four magnum rounds from a Desert Eagle automatic pistol that was fitted with a silencer. There was the pop, pop, pop, sound of the rounds being fired and a clunk, as Parsons tossed the automatic on to the wooden seat. He walked out of the confessional and up the aisle passing two young nuns that were kneeling in prayer.

It took Parsons eleven hours to drive from Running Deer, Montana to Denver Colorado. He stopped twice to refuel, take a piss and purchase a ready made sandwich and a coke from two machines. Instead of turning the rental car into the Avis agency he parked the Chevrolet sedan in long term parking. In the parking lot using a Bic lighter he destroyed the stolen American Express Credit Card and New York drivers license. After carefully removing any and all fingerprints he had left the rifle and fishing tackle in his room. Reaching over the front seat of the car he grabbed an over night bag. Opening it, he took out his passport and airline ticket to Newark, New Jersey. Walking slowly on his way to the air terminal he dropped the melted plastic balls that once were a credit card and drivers license into one of the many trash cans located in and around the parking area.

At the counter of United Airlines he stood and smiled at the young lady who asked, “How may I help you sir?” He answered, I believe you have a reservation for a Vincenzo DeMarzo. I know I go from here to Newark, my question is how long a wait will I have until I can board for my flight to Rome?”

The young lady looked at the screen of the monitor, brought up the flight numbers and times for take off and arrivals and said, “You will have a one hour lay over in Newark and your flight on Air Italia is on time.”

“Thank you very much”, said DeMarzo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

Counter Blow

 

Captain Wallace sat at his desk looking at two F.B.I. agents sitting in front of him. One agent was dressed in a blue suit, the other in one of brown. They had introduced themselves by name then began their questioning.

“Captain, do you know a man named Franco Gargiulo?”

“Yes I do”

“Would you tell us how you came to know him?

“Certainly, he is the father of a victim killed in a robbery?”

“I assume you are talking about Johnny Gargiulo”.

“That's right”.

“Were you ever at Franco Gargiulo's home in Maryland?”

“Yes I was”.

“For what purpose?”

“To offer my condolences and to discuss a financial reward for the information leading to the arrest and conviction of those responsible for his son's death.

“How much of a reward?”

“It seems to me that five thousand dollars was mentioned. I'm not sure. He also offered reward money for Leroy Dunbar”.

“Are you familiar with a convict named Calvin Epps?”

“Nope.”

“How about a man named Edward Parsons?”

“Never heard of him”.

“Are you familiar with a Desert Eagle?”

“No, I'm not into bird watching”.

“Captain, a Desert Eagle is an automatic pistol. It comes in different calibers. It's manufactured in Israel”.

“That right? I'm partial to revolvers. Revolvers seldom jam”.

“Let's get back to Franco Gargiulo. Do you know that he has connections to organized crime?”

“As far as I know he is in the imported stone business. If he is involved with organized crime then I didn't know then and I'm not too sure now. Your boss, j. Edgar Hoover maintained for years that there was no such thing as organized crime. So he sat on that kind of information instead of giving it to state and local law enforcement agencies. If he did we would at least be aware of who they are”

“Are you aware that Father Salvador Presti was murdered?”

Wallace sat up quickly in his chair. “Our Father Presti?

“Yes. He was killed while hearing confessions”.

“Really. How about that” Wallace replied.

“You don't seem to be concerned”, said the Agent in the brown suit.

“Let me lay it out for you. In regards to Franco Gargiulo, he lives in Maryland, the last time I looked that is out of my jurisdiction. Unless the priest was killed in Nautilus Beach then his death where ever it occurred is also out of my jurisdiction”.

“Father Presti was killed in Montana”.

“Like I said, not my problem”.

****************

Three days later Wallace met Louis Lambraca in the dining room of the Albatross Hotel. When the Captain approached the table where Lambraca was sitting the lawyer got up smiled and shook hands. “Thank you for coming. How about we talk over lunch”,he said.

“No problem. To tell you the truth I look forward to hear what you have to say”, said Wallace.

Their conversation was interrupted when a waiter appeared at their table. Lambraca ordered fried oysters. Wallace ordered a ham and cheese sandwich and told the waiter to bring a pot of coffee to the table.

When the waiter left Lambraca said, “I understand that you had a visit from the F.B.I.”.

“Yes I did”

“Then, I assume that you have a question to ask”.

“I do, but it can wait until you're finished”, Wallace replied.

“Fine. Do you know where Leroy Dunbar is?”

“The last I heard he was in Havana”.

“He still is. He's now buried in a cemetery.”

“How did he die?”

“It seems someone slit his throat”.

The waiter brought the coffee pot to the table. When he left Lambraca continued the conversation.

“It was brought to our attention that a convict, one Donovan Bennett was killed by his cellmate.”

“He was”, Wallace replied.

“And, just recently the Catholic Priest, Father Presti. How strange”, said Lambraca “I believe you said that you have a question or two to ask me”, the lawyer continued.

Wallace took a sip of coffee and said, “I do. The F.B.I. is under the opinion that Mr. Gargiulo is involved in organized crime. Is that true?”

“Positively not. Mr. Gargiulo is of Italian origin and has many friends and associates both in Italy and the United States. If per chance any friend and associate is involved in organized crime Mr. Gargiulo is not aware of it.”

“The word on the street is that Calvin Epps mother is being, let's say subsidized. Her rent, food and medical needs are all paid for by someone unknown”.

“Who ever it is must be a really good person.”, said Lambraca as he looked at his wristwatch. “It's getting late and I have to drive back to Baltimore but first I have one other duty to perform”, said the lawyer as he signaled the waiter.

“Yes sir”

“Would you bring me a telephone and install it here at the table. Make sure my call goes through the hotel switchboard and add the cost of the call on my check”.

“This must be a very important telephone call if you're going to all this trouble”, said Wallace.

After the telephone was connected Lambraca told the switchboard operator the number he wanted. A few minutes later he said. “This is Louis sir. I have the Captain right here with me”. The lawyer handed the telephone to Wallace.

“Hello?”

“Captain, how nice to hear your voice. I trust that you are well?”

“I am sir, thanks for asking.

“I'll come right to the point Robert. I may call you Robert, is that alright?”

“Yes sir, no problem”.

“The point is Robert I want to thank you for all that you have done in completing the investigation of Giovanni's

murder”.

“You're welcome sir. However, I didn't do too much, at least

not as much as I would have liked to do”.

“I understand Robert. I am well aware of the obstacles that you ran into hindering your investigation. I saw it as the criminal types aided by loopholes in the law and outside influences prevented you to arrest those responsible for the murders. I am sure that loosing a very important witness was a tremendous blow”.

“Yes sir. It was”.

“Well, in life one takes punches. For every punch there is a counter punch. And, for every blow in life, there is a counter blow. Always remember that. Once again thank you. Stay well and safe Robert. Good by”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Table Of Contents

 

Chapter One September in The Rain

Chapter Two Mom and Pop

Chapter Three Double Trouble

Chapter Four A Day of Drums

Chapter Five Questions

Chapter Six Man Hunt

Chapter Seven Line Up

Chapter Eight Speak no Evil

Chapter Nine Baltimore

Chapter Ten Verdict

Chapter Eleven The Barrio

Chapter Twelve The Messenger

Chapter Thirteen Retribution

Chapter Fourteen Requital

Chapter Fifteen Bless Me Father

Chapter Sixteen Counter Blow

Imprint

Text: Robert F. c,lifton
Editing: j. William blackmore
Publication Date: 05-12-2014

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Dedicated to my grandson, Paul A. Clifton with whom I am so proud.