How does a young man go to the roof of his brownstone house to sun himself, and never wake up? Is there foul play? Did he owe money to the wrong people? Did he play around with another man's woman? It it is foul play, how do you find a murderer in a city the size of New York with no clues?

Murder on the Rooftop

By BILL COLES

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2009 Bill Coles
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4389-8843-6

Chapter One

8 PM Tuesday evening found Bruce Adams entering the '69 Club' in Greenwich Village. Not that this should be a surprise to anyone who knew him, for this was his normal routine. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw a man motion for him to come and sit at his table.

"Hello Fats."

"Hello kid. You got sumtin' for me?"

"If your talking about your money ... no, I don't. You're gonna have to give me some more time."

Fat Willy was a part of the scene in Greenwich Village and the '69 Club was just one of his many stops. He was probably the biggest bookie in operation in more ways than one, tipping the scales at 385 pounds. When he sat down his ass hung over both sides of the chair like the ears on a basset hound. Someone once said, 'when Fats walked down the street his ass looked like two midgets fighting under a blanket'.

Fats looked at him with a scowl on his face, "Look you little shit, I don't have to give you nuttin'. I've given you just about all the time I'm gonna give ya. If you don't come up with the twenty grand by Saturday you're fuck-in history. Get the picture ass hole? History."

Bruce shrugged, knowing Fat Willy was not a person to be messed with. He's been known to have arms or legs broken just on a whim. Of course everything depended on one's occupation as to what would be broken. Fats never wanted to interfere with a person's ability to make money. Having bet on everything, even the dog races in a vain attempt to recoup his losses, Bruce was now at a loss as to how or where he could get the money by Saturday. Moving away from Fat Willy's table, Bruce finally realized he would have to go to his father, State Senator Walter Adams, for the help he needed. Bruce thought 'Fuck him,' I'm not going to worry about Fat Willy anymore today. He was out to have a good time and a good time he was going to have. Looking around the club he spotted a former girl friend and grabbing a chair from a near-by table sat down. At the same time he motioned to Jack, the owner, to bring him his usual drink.

"Hi Ruth baby, what's new? I sure have missed that warm body of yours. Where have you been keeping yourself?"

"Please Bruce leave me alone. I'm meeting my boyfriend and he'll be here any minute. He's not going to like it if he sees you talking to me." Seeing Bruce again brought back sad memories. It was Bruce who made her pregnant, then demanded she have an abortion. After that she never saw him again. Moving closer, he put his arm around her shoulder as she tried to move away. "Please Bruce, I don't want no trouble. Just leave me alone."

Getting bolder, he let his hand slide down inside her dress and started to fondle her breast. Struggling to get away, Ruth tipped over her chair and fell to the floor, just as Chuck her new squeeze, entered the Club. Walking over to the table he helped Ruth to her feet and then turned grabbing Bruce by the throat.

"You little bastard. I'm gonna break your fucking face wide open."

"Please. Please don't hit me. I didn't know she was your girl."

"Chuck, please, for me. He isn't worth it. Let's just go, Please ..."

Turning toward the door, Chuck and Ruth started to leave. Bruce seeing his chance, lunged for Chuck and a bottle placed on a near-by table with a candle stuck in it's throat became his weapon. As he tried to hit him from behind, Chuck turned just in time and caught a glancing blow to his shoulder. Two fast punches to Bruce's face, brought blood streaming from his nose. Jack made no attempt to interfere and let the fight continue. He was taking special pleasure in watching 'Master' Bruce get the living shit kicked out of him. A couple of more punches and he was unable to get up.

"If I ever catch you within a hundred feet of her again, I swear I'll kill you ... Do I make myself clear you no good son-of-a-bitch."

With that Chuck took Ruth by the arm and together they turned and for a second time started to leave. Throwing a wet towel at Bruce, Jack suggested "Maybe you should clean yourself up and call it a night."

Staggering to his feet, Bruce managed to clear some of the cobwebs from his mind and taking the bottle in his hand managed to hit Chuck on the back of his head dropping him to the ground. For the moment Chuck failed to move and Bruce in a fit of panic ran from the bar. He had no intention of being around when Chuck came to. In the meantime Jack had jumped over the bar and was at Chuck's side in a flash. Chuck started to come around as Jack examined his wound.

"How do you feel kid? You're pretty lucky, that bottle barely broke the skin."

"That no good bastard," mumbled Chuck, "I'll kill him if it's the last thing I do."

"Friend of yours Jack?" asked Fats with a half smile on his face.

"Not hardly. Personally, I can't stand the wimpy little bastard, but he does spend money and that my fine friend helps pay the rent."

Chuck had finally regained his composure and taking Ruth by the arm left without any further conversation.

Several hours had passed and now Bruce was stumbling up the stairs to his apartment. He made enough noise to stampede a herd of deaf elephants. In his drunken stupor he never saw the door to Edna Ward's apartment open slightly and the peering eyes that watched, nor did he see the cat until he stepped on it. With a loud howl, the cat drew up it's back and her hair stood on end.

"You little bastard". Bruce cried out, "You scared the living shit out of me." With one swift kick sent her flying down the stairs. No sooner had he entered his apartment, when Carmen, wife of Smitty the super, came tip toeing up the stairs, under the watchful eyes of one inquisitive neighbor. Using her pass key, she entered his apartment and locked the door behind her.

"Sweetheart, what happened to you?" she purred. "Here let me help you."

"Shut the fuck up Bitch, and get me another wet towel. Jesus Christ this hurts."

Carmen knelt next to him as he laid his head on the pillow. "Here baby, let me take care of you." Placing her full wet lips softly to his cheek and the sweet smell of a cheap perfume certainly had its soothing effect.

"Where's your ole man tonight?"

"He took the night off and is with some friends."

"Yeah ... when do you expect him home?" The wheels in his head had already started to turn.

"Not until tomorrow morning, baby. You know how it is when men play cards."

By this time he had just about forgotten his bruises and decided that Carmen was the best medicine under the circumstances. Turning his head he let their lips touch, softly at first, then their kissing became more and more fervent. His hand started to slide up the back of her thigh and over the soft mounds of flesh ending at the small of her back. As he suspected she wore nothing underneath. With one hard yank, he pulled at her dress. It came away from her body, as he knew it would, with little resistance and fell to the floor. A smile crossed his face as he realized the pleasure he was about to become a part of.

Hearing the moaning from behind Bruce's door also brought a smile across Edna Ward's face. Leaving the security of her apartment, she went in search of her cat and found his lifeless body lying at the bottom of the stairs. Picking up the still form, she walked to the rear courtyard and as tears rushed from her eyes and down her cheeks, took a small plant shovel and buried her beloved cat. Locking her door, she retired and in a short time had cried herself to sleep.

"Come on Carmen, its time to get up."

"Honey, I was feeling soooo good. Do I have to go now?"

"Are you sure your ole man doesn't know about our little parties?"

"Believe me honey, he knows nothing. He's too stupid to suspect anything. All he wants to do is play cards with his friends."

Getting out of bed and standing in the early morning sunlight streaming through the window, Bruce could not help but admire her small slender body. He was tempted to take her back to bed and make love to her all over again but felt it would be too risky. Besides, why kill a good thing.

"How am I going to keep my dress closed?" she pouted. "You tore it open." She was fanning her dress back and forth. Seeing her naked body was nothing new as it had always been a thing of beauty. Today was no different, her effort to arouse Bruce was beginning to have it's desired effect and becoming quite obvious. Bruce was ready to throw caution to the wind and take Carmen back to bed when he heard a noise in the hallway. 'It's probably one of my neighbors going to work.' he thought, however, it was enough to bring him back to reality.

"Come on Carmen. This time you have to go." Taking her by the arm, he escorted her to the door, giving a sigh of relief as he watched her descend the stairs.

Carmen had just changed her dress, when hearing the key in the apartment door turned and saw the knob on the lock turn ever so slowly. In a fit of desperation she tore her bed apart, to look as though she had slept in it. A smile crossed her face as she remembered the past few hours. Grabbing her torn dress, she placed it under the mattress, knowing she would have to get rid of it later.

"Hi honey. You're home early. Did you have a nice time with your friends?"

"Yeah, it was OK. Any problems?"

"Everything was quiet and I had a very nice night watching TV."

He knew the bitch was lying through her teeth but was unable to catch her. He had tried to call three or four times and got no answer. One of these days he would catch her and her boyfriend and kill him for taking his wife. After all, Carmen was just a poor innocent victim who was easily led astray, or so he thought..

Chapter Two

7 AM Monday morning and Dan has parked his car. What an ungodly hour for a person to be out," he thought as he glanced at his watch, flipped down his sun visor with the green I.D. plate and got out, seemingly in one motion. What made this day different was that he didn't get home until 3 AM and learned from the message on his answering machine that he had an early morning meeting with Chief of Detectives Harry Adler.

Detective Lieutenant Daniel Boyd was born in Wales of an Irish father and a Welsh mother. He immigrated to the states when he was just 15 years old on condition that he stayed with his mother's sister, Fiona. At age 21 he became a citizen and a member of the N.Y.P.D., having attained one of the highest scores ever received. Today, he had an eight-thirty appointment with Chief of Detectives, Harry Adler. No one sees the BOSS unless you screw up and to the best of Danny's memory, he hadn't stepped on anyone's toes in at least a week.

'Oh well, he thought, eight-thirty isn't that far away and then I'll have all my questions answered.' Looking around he thought what a beautiful City New York is, especially at this time of day. A light rain had fallen during the night and the streets were still wet. The sun was rising in the east over Long Island, filling the canyons with daylight and splashing eerie shadows on the buildings. The streets were heating up and creating a light mist.

It's strange how unrelated events will bring about memories. When Dan saw the mist he was reminded of a Broadway Show he had once seen. About a small village that appears once every hundred years for a day. All this takes place on the Scottish moors. Dan had trouble remembering the name of the show when out of nowhere popped the name "Brigadoon".

Dan was brought back to reality by people materializing from buildings carrying packages to be placed in the nearest trash cans. Others were searching their pockets and purses for loose change to purchase the morning paper or for carfare. Merchants were now opening doors or sweeping sidewalks getting ready for another day's work. The beat cop yawned and checked his watch, knowing his relief would be coming soon. Remembering the days when he had been a beat cop and how he would look forward to a warm bed after doing a midnight tour caused a smile to form on Dan's face.

In the meantime, his stomach had been talking to him, telling him just how hungry he was. He had been walking aimlessly and slowly until now but with one shake of his head brought himself back to reality. Looking around he saw a flashing neon sign advertising that MIKE'S PLACE was now open and serving breakfast. Dan entered with the intention of having coffee and an English muffin. After smelling the bacon sizzling on the griddle, the muffin and coffee became history. Sliding into a booth, Dan caught the eye of the waitress and almost in a whisper called.

"O.J. and coffee,"

"Large or small?" she bellowed.

"Small." Dan replied shaking his head in disbelief. When she returned, he gave her the rest of his order.

"Three eggs up, double toast, home fries and bacon."

"That's it?" she asked.

Nodding, he watched as she returned to the kitchen. 'My God,' he thought, 'She has the cutest ass I've seen in a long time.' At the far end of the store he could see a table placed off by itself. On top was a bundle of papers tied with a piece of cord. Getting out of the booth and looking at the waitress, he pointed to the bundle. "They for sale?".

"No we just keep them there so people will ask dumb questions."

Turning, she called to the rear, "Hey Mike, what's with the papers, they for sale?"

Mike came out of the kitchen and cut the cord that bound the papers together. Removing the top one, he placed it in the trash can. He offered the next one to Dan who glanced at the headlines. Turning back to the cook he cocked his head towards the waitress and asked.

"Where did you ever find that smart ass?"

"Who Roz?"

"No, your sister."

"Awe she's alright. She just don't like getting up so early in the mornin'." Half way through an article Dan's concentration was broken.

"Three sunny side up, double on the toast, bacon and home fries." Roz repeated. "We've got one hungry camper." She smiled as she went back to filling the salt and pepper shakers.

"We've got one hungry camper." Dan mimicked. "That bitch is definitely certifiable." he continued not realizing that he was talking to himself and others could hear. The laughter of those near-by told him otherwise. Looking at the food he was sorry he had ordered so much but a half hour later, he was putting the finishing touches to a small puddle of yolk. Looking at his watch he saw he still had time for another cup of coffee and read some more of his paper. He motioned to Roz the waitress for a refill and mused at all the people that had come in while he was eating. For the most part he didn't give a damn but when his eyes caught sight of the brunette sitting at the counter, he was sorry he had missed her entrance. In a city where beauty is common place, it is impossible to pick one and say, this is the best looking. Dan knew there would be another, as pretty or prettier just around the corner. 'Christ,' he thought 'she sure is a beauty.'

Roz brought her an order of toast and coffee. He was still looking at the brunette, when Roz picked up his cup and filled it from the pot she was carrying. She dropped two creamers and disappeared into the kitchen.

He finally got back to his paper, read some more, finished his coffee and picked up his check. After paying, he left the restaurant and once outside, looked around. A bank sign nearby was flashing the time and temperature. 8:25 AM flashed momentarily, then 76 degrees and back to 8:25 AM.

'Ah Shit' he said, half to himself, half aloud, 'now I will be late. Just two blocks and I'll be in the front door.' One Police Plaza, headquarters for one of the largest Police Departments in the free world was also headquarters for one of the largest detective divisions headed by Chief Harry Adler. He hailed the first cab to come along and when it failed to stop he walked the two blocks.

'Fuckit,' he thought. 'I'm late, I'm late, let them fire me.' To his surprise, he was only 5 minutes late. On the 18th floor, there was a police woman sitting at a desk. She caught him off guard by being the first to talk.

"Lt. Daniel Boyd?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Go right in Lieutenant, Chief Adler has been waiting for you".

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Murder on the Rooftopby BILL COLES Copyright © 2009 by Bill Coles. Excerpted by permission.
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