Archive for February 2017

Mickey Finn and Louie Caarbone Part Two   Leave a comment

mickey-finn-coneThis is my Sheltie Mickey Finn. Poor Mickey had eye surgery on Thursday. It went well but Mickey has been sentenced to the cone of shame for ten days. He does not like it at all.

That is why I have not had time to write too much on the blog. I am barely keeping up with writing on the book. Here is part two of Louie Carbone. After this one it starts picking up.



As Sean and Hank crossed the Verrazano Bridge leaving Brooklyn “Summer in the City” was playing on the satellite radio.

Sean turned to Hank, “You know it is probably going to be real hot there. I don’t mean the temperature.”

Hank answered, “It’s going to get a lot hotter when we get there for the asshole making the threats.”

“Hank the only person that Jimmy ever killed was Crazy Louie Carbone. Louie was only a low level associate of Johnny Boy Ferranti. He always acted like he was a made man but he was really only an idiot gofer. Jimmy stopped him with a rack full of stolen coats in the garment district. Instead of just taking the collar and doing a few months the asshole pulled a gun. Jimmy dropped him with two in the chest. So this could somehow be tied to the mob.”

Hank shook his head, “I really can’t see the mob getting involved in this they almost never go after family, especially not a young girl.”

Sean nodded, “I know it doesn’t make any sense that they would go after Jimmy’s kid over Carbone. They all knew he was an asshole and deserved what he got.”

“I know I guess we will find out what’s going on when we get there.”

They drove straight through stopping only for gas. When they reached Jacksonville Sean called Carol. She suggested they meet at the college.

Sean told her, “No that is out of the question. St. Augustine is too crowded.”

Carol said, “Okay then how about my house?”

“No, I want a place where if someone is following you we can see him. Is there a restaurant or something with a good open view of the street where we could meet?”

“There’s Finn’s it’s on the corner of A1A and 100 in Flagler Beach. From the upper deck you can see both streets and the beach clear and the food is pretty good.”

“That sounds perfect. I’ll meet you there for lunch say 11:30.”

Carol answered, “Okay but if we’re sitting on the upper deck they can see us from the street too. Shouldn’t we go someplace where we can’t be seen?”

“Don’t worry about anyone seeing us. Of course if you see one of them let me know. See you tomorrow.”

“OK, if you say so Uncle Sean. Thanks for coming all the way down here, Bye.”

“Anytime Sweetie, Bye.”

After hanging up Sean asked Hank, “Do you know any sleazy hotels or motels around here?”

“Not right here but there are a load of them along Rte 1 in Daytona.”

“Then I guess we should head there. We need a place that won’t ask questions and will mind their own business.”

They drove south on Rte 1 looking for a cheap motel that they could use.

“Hank pointed to one on their left. How about that one it looks pretty shitty?”

It had five or six drug addicted skanky hookers milling about in the parking lot.

Sean shook his head, “No, that is not the one for me. It looks like you won’t get crabs there you’ll get lobsters. Besides with that many hookers outside the police are probably called there every fifteen minutes.”

On the next block Hank had another, “How about here?”

“No, The Board of Health won’t be shutting that place. The C.D.C. will do it. Even the roaches in there are puking. Hank I want a skuzzy motel not a Petri dish for new and exciting diseases?”

Two blocks later Hank had a spotted another one, “How about this one. Is it okay for your delicate little ass princess.”

“It looks like it might do. There are not too many piles of puke in the parking lot and as an added attraction it appears they cleaned up the blood from the last shooting. Let me go in and check. If we can get two rooms all the way in the back I’ll take it.”

Sean went in and was out ten minutes later, “I got both rooms. Let’s check I think they should do. Your room is booked in the name of Edgar A. Poe, mine is Herbert G. Wells.”

As he entered the first room Hank said, “I hope the other one is better. This place would make a roach puke.”

The second room appeared to be slightly better as they could see plenty of roaches and none of them were puking.

Hank replied, “Good let’s drop our stuff off and go get something to eat, I’m starving here.”

From the van they carried their luggage and an old wooden chair in the motel room. Then Sean drove back to Flagler Beach so they could look around the area before tomorrow.

Standing across the street from Finn’s Pub Sean said, “She picked a good spot. We should be able to see if anyone is watching us.”

Hank answered, “Do you want to eat here tonight. She said the food was good.”

“No, I don’t think we should be seen together in there. Who knows what will happen tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you are probably right. A friend of mine who came down here a few of years ago told me he went to a place called the Golden Lion. He said the fish and chips were excellent.”

“That sounds good to me. I saw the sign for the place a few blocks north.”

“I hope it has a bar.”

“It does.”

“Thank you Jesus.”

After eating they made their plans for the next day over a couple or three beers.

Finally Sean said, “I guess that’s it. Let’s go back to the motel chip the crusty stuff off those sheets and get some sleep. We may need it tomorrow.”



The next day Sean and Hank were at Flagler Beach at nine am. They wanted to check the area again in daylight this time. Hank dropped Sean off in front of the Golden Lion and continued on. He parked across the street from Finns. Each would walk A1A and 100 for several blocks in each direction separately.

After finishing his route or as Hank thought of if checking his post he looked for a place to wait. Hank found a bench just a little ways south of 100. He was prepared. He had a large coffee a bag with two cokes and a bagel he got on the way. It wasn’t a New York Bagel but beggars can’t be choosers. He had found a little bookstore on 100. When he saw it he thought he should get a book. An old guy reading a book on a bench by the beach, perfect he will blend right in. He sat down looked around once more and opened his book.

An hour later he got a call. It was Sean, “Hank I see Carol coming. Where are you?”

“I’m at one of the benches beachside just south of you. I stopped and picked up a book to blend in.”

“Is the book any good?”

“Yeah, it’s called Water Hazard about some guy named Ike. He would have fit right in with the crowd in the old 83.”

“Okay just don’t forget to listen for me.”

“No problem I never missed a radio call.”

“I know I’ll let you know if she saw anyone one following her.”

“If she thinks she was followed try to get a description”

“Will do, gotta go here she comes”


Posted February 10, 2017 by kevingcox in Random Thoughts

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Louie Carbone   2 comments


I didn’t blog last week but it wasn’t my fault. I switched from Direct TV to Dish. That also necessitated a switch of my internet service provider. The only way I could have blogged was with my phone. Now I have seen some of these kids who appear to be typing eighty words a minute with their thumbs but that is not me. I don’t think I could do eighty words an hour on my phone. So I am back now.


I have noticed in the New York papers that people being shot or stabbed only blocks from Wyckoff Heights Medical Center are being taken by bus miles away for treatment. I asked on one of the 83 web sites and was told there are two reasons. The first is that Wyckoff is not a full fledged trauma center. The other reason is that the city would prefer they go to a city hospital. I remember when I was working most victims of shootings or stabbings if serious went by RMP to Wyckoff. We believed seconds counted. It appears that the city no longer believes that. There was also a camaraderie that developed between the cops and the ER personnel. We knew all the nurses, doctors and other personnel. We would if available try to be around the hospital when shifts changed to make sure the nurses got to their cars safely and if we were injured and taken to Wyckoff we were given extra care. If we needed supplies gloves, bandages, band aids etc for our cars we could stop in and get it.  While there are many good things that have come up lately this does not seem to be one. It is a shame that some things have to change.

I am considering taking a short story I wrote and adding it to the blog in serial form. It runs about thirty five pages so I guess I would do it in about five installments. The story concerns two retired 83 cops, a young damsel in distress, the mob, a mob wanna be, and two retired 83 cops. The same two cops from “A Year In Bushwick” but many years later. Here is the first installment. If anyone is interested and would like to see more let me know



By Kevin G Cox


Sean rolled over in bed and looked at the clock as he reached for the phone. Damn three o’clock, three a.m. phone calls suck. They are never good news.


“Uncle Sean, I don’t know what to do. I’m really scared. I think he is going to kill me.”

“Carol, Take a deep breath, calm down. Now start from the beginning and tell me what is going on.”

“Ok but I am really, really scared. I was at a club in a few days ago. A cute guy I never saw before came up to me and we started talking. He asked if I was from Brooklyn. I said yeah. He smiled at me and asked if my father was Jimmy Morrisey. I said yeah, did you know my father. Then he stopped smiling he leaned in close to me and whispered that Louie Carbone was a friend of his family and I was going to pay for what my father did to him. Uncle Sean I think that was the name of the guy my father shot. He was in the Mafia Uncle Sean. I’m so scared. I don’t know what to do.”

“Did you tell the Police?”

“Yeah, they said that I may have misunderstood what he said. They didn’t consider it an overt threat. Unless he does more they can’t help me.”

“Okay have you seen this guy since that night?”

“I saw him and the three friends he was at the party with a few times near the school. At first I thought maybe I did have it wrong. I mean he could have just been playing a rotten joke on me. I live with a few girls from school. We rent a place in Flagler Beach so we can learn to surf and get away from school when we want to. Today every time I turned around I saw one of his friends. I think he was following me all day. What should I do Uncle Sean?”

“Were his three friends from Brooklyn too?”

“No, one of the girls at the party was complaining that they were there. She said they were local low lives and weren’t invited.”

“Okay that’s good. Stay calm I’m on my way. I’ll drive down and get to the bottom of this. “

“Good see you tomorrow. Bye Sweetie I’ll take care of everything don’t worry. Just stay home until you hear from me.”

“Okay, thank you Uncle Sean.”

As soon as he hung up Sean started planning and packing. At six he called Hank. Hank had been his partner when they were cops in Bushwick, Brooklyn.

Hank answered on the third ring, “Aren’t you dead yet.”

Sean replied, “Not yet but I was hoping you were. I was going to come over and get that H&K 9mm you have.”

“The H&K, you would probably shoot yourself in the dick with it. It is a man’s gun. What’s up?”

“Do you remember my cousin Jimmy Morrisey?”

“Isn’t he the guy who killed Crazy Louie Carbone? I heard he died. Didn’t he have lung problems from 9/11?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“I only met him a few times. Great guy, shame he had to go that way.”

“I got a call from his daughter Carol this morning. She’s been calling me Uncle Sean since she was a baby. Anyway she called because she is having a problem down in Florida. I am driving down to give her a hand. I was wondering if you can lend me your cargo van too.”

“What kind of problem do you need a 9mm and a cargo van for?”

Sean explained the phone call and what he planned on doing.

Hank yelled into the phone, “Are you out of your damn mind. I’m not lending you my van or my gun. You can’t do that, at least not alone.  You can’t but we can do it, so I’m coming with you.”

“Are you sure? Carbone was with Ferrante’s crew. I can’t see the mob being involved in this, but if they are it could get messy.”

“I don’t mind messy, never did. I hope you’re bringing a gun.”

“Two, my S&W 40 and the little .380.”

“You never come prepared. I’ll have my Chief, the H&K and just in case I’ll toss my Remington 870 in the back of the van.”

“Do you really think we will need a shotgun?”

“As the little old Jewish lady who lives across the street from me always says, “You never know, it couldn’t hoit.” When do you want to leave?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes. Have coffee ready. It’s a long ride from Brooklyn to Florida.”

Marion Harmon, A Writer in Vegas.

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