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FLAGLER BIG FOOT   Leave a comment



Posted May 26, 2018 by kevingcox in Uncategorized

FLAGLER BIG FOOT   1 comment

Jan 2014 Cruise28

Here is a story I wrote a while ago. It is a little different but I enjoyed writing it. I hope someone enjoys reading it.


Flagler Bigfoot

Kevin G. Cox

The following document was found when the time capsule sealed in 2018 was opened this year 2218.. Is it true or is it a work of fiction? Only the author knew and he is not here to tell.            

My name is John Harker I was an Investigator at the Atlanta Office of the American Cryptozoological Association. The envelope I have placed in this time capsule contains the notes of my investigation of an odd occurrence in Flagler County Florida. You may believe it or not. I do know in two hundred years I won’t give a damn what you believe.

(This is the complete text of my notes.)

May 17, 2022.

I received a report this date in reference to the sighting of a Bigfoot type creature in Flagler County, Florida. I immediately responded and interviewed the affiant. He stated that his son and two friends, all in their early teens were in the Graham Swamp Conservation Area. The affiant has requested that his name and the youths be withheld. This is due to the fact that the teenagers were poaching feral hogs at the time. If evidence proving the existence of any unknown Bigfoot like animal is found he advises he will want the reward. When I agreed he called the youths into the room to tell me what they had seen. I requested and was granted permission to speak to each one separately. After completing the interviews I determined that they were relating what they believed to be the truth.

They stated that they had been walking in the swamp at approx 2:00 AM three nights earlier when they heard a soft shuffling sound from the brush to their right. They believed it to be a rabbit and headed for the sound hoping to shoot it. They trailed the sound for about one hundred yards when they came into a small clearing. There they saw what each first believed to be a slim man of about five foot in height standing beside a small mound. When he turned they realized that it wasn’t a man but heavily muscled creature that appeared to be part man and part boar. It was short but very wide covered with black bristly hair. They all agreed that the face looked like a gorilla crossed with a boar with two extremely long sharp tusks. Spotting the boys the creature advanced and gave a roar that terrified them. The affiant’s son claimed to have fired one round from his rifle but doesn’t believe he hit anything. He stated he didn’t aim just pulled the trigger and ran. One of his friends just dropped his rifle and ran until he was out of the swamp. He said if I go in and find it I can keep it because he is never going to leave the city or suburbs again. The third youth stated he did look back and believed he saw the slim man fade into the mound. He says he can’t really be sure of anything except that he was terrified.

Although much of the story doesn’t make sense I believe there is enough that further investigation is needed. I have decided to go to the scene tonight to investigate.

 At 10:00 PM I entered the Conservation Area where the teenagers stated they had entered. I was equipped with a Ruger Super Blackhawk .44 Magnum revolver for protection. I had three motion activated cameras to place around the scene of the sighting and one low light HD camera for use if I did manage to spot the creature.

I proceeded quietly in a stalking mode to the scene following the directions that I had been given. After about forty five minutes I came to the small clearing the boys had described. I knew it was the correct location because the abandoned rifle lay where it had been dropped. I placed the motion activated cameras to get the best view of anything entering the area. After locating a position that would give me the best cover I changed into the Ghillie suit I had with me. I decided to wait until sun up in the hope the creature would return.

I lay there staring at the mound. Something about it seemed so familiar but I just couldn’t place it. I heard a soft sound and looked towards it for a few seconds hoping that it was the creature. In my mind I was already spending the million dollar reward for the first clear proof of a Bigfoot type animal. Unfortunately, it was only an armadillo. When I looked back towards the mound it struck me; the mound was not a natural formation at all and I knew where I had seen it before. It was a Sidhe mound; I had seen many of them ten years earlier. I was in Ireland investigating a Leprechaun sighting which I determined to be a hoax by a group of bored teenagers. It was very good as hoaxes go. The hotels and pubs in the area made a lot of money with the tourists and TV people so no one was too angry with the boys. They were arrested but the charges were dismissed. They were advised to find a better use of their talents.

This mound was on a much smaller scale than the majestic mounds of Ireland but there was no mistaking the similarity. As I stared at the mound I heard a soft shuffling sound to my left.  I slowly turned my head to the sound and observed the slim male the boys had described exit the brush and walk towards the mound. I stepped into the clearing. Hearing me he turned and instantly transformed into the monster the boys had described.  When it transformed I realized what I had in front of me. He roared a terrible roar and charged me. Instead of running I charged him. Taking the creature by surprise I was able to tackle him. He was one of the Aos sí (People of the mounds). They are commonly referred to as the fairy folk of Ireland. In truth they are far different than the modern idea of a fairy. They are much like men but capable of great magical powers. He had used one of those powers to project the illusion of that monster upon himself. When he went down the spell broke. He appeared as a slim man again. I held him tightly by his left arm as we got to our feet.

I asked, “What is your name?”

He answered, “I am Lugh Goibhne of the Tuatha Dé Danann release my arm.”

“Sorry Lugh, I can’t do that, as long as I hold you I am safe from your magics. You are proof that the Fairy people of Ireland exist.”

He hung his head and pled, “Why do men hound the Aos si? The Milesians drove us from out ancestral homes. Our once proud fort mounds are now ruins. All we have are our portals to the parallel worlds we live in.  We have been in hiding for thousands of years until now when we are thought of merely as legends. If you bring me to your people they will start searching for us and force us to run again but this time with no place to hide. Please don’t do this.”

I felt terrible about it but I told him, “Lugh, I am sorry I wish I could let you go and just forget about this but I am sixty two years old. I have no savings and no pension. When I bring you in they will give me a million dollars. With that I can live the time I have left in dignity without it I live in poverty.”

He smiled, “If that is all it is, I can make you rich, much richer than a mere million dollars.”

I shook my head, “Lugh I know enough that there is no pot of gold. Even if there was you are no Leprechaun. Besides this isn’t the Middle Ages, if I suddenly had millions of dollars in gold the government would be all over me. I would have to try to explain where it came from. I would probably end up in jail or dead.”

He appeared insulted, “I am not stupid sir. I realize that I couldn’t give you a pot of gold even if I had one. Which I don’t, even the Leprechauns don’t really have any. But there are more ways than that to get rich. I have the magic to do many things. How much is the lottery this week?”

“Two hundred and seventy six million dollars.”

“Let me go and you will win it.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“I am a prince of the Tuatha Dé Danann. If I make an honest bargain I keep it.”

I knew it was a trick but in my heart I really didn’t want to turn him in. He had given me the excuse I needed to free him.

“Well Lugh, I know I shouldn’t do this but shake my hand I accept your offer.”

With that I released the little man. He walked to the mound and turned to face me saying, “Now don’t forget to buy a ticket.”

I walked from the swamp knowing he had made a fool of me but I guess if I am going to be a fool I might as well be a poor one.

If you are wondering why you never heard of the story of the Fairy folk of Flagler County it’s because I did buy that ticket. I won and after taxes I still had more than a hundred million dollars. I still live in Flagler County. I bought a large house on the beach to spend the rest of my days watching the waves come in. Lugh visits often. We sit on the balcony and watch baseball with a beer or three in the summer. You see my friend Lugh like me is a Met fan.  Now you know the true story believe it or not.




Kevin G. Cox is a retired New York City Police Officer and usually writes police stories. Kevin sat down at his computer to write another of those stories. However somehow this came out. He doesn’t know where it came from and doesn’t know if anyone else will like it but he does. So here it is.

Posted May 25, 2018 by kevingcox in Random Thoughts

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A SAMPLE FROM E.D.I.P.S   Leave a comment

This sample is from my zombie apocalypse novel E.D.I.P.S. The story runs from Red Hook Point to Montauk Point and back again. It is now available on Amazon.

This piece is when they first really start to understand what is happening with the zombie apocalypse. the morning after it starts they are in a Montauk hotel room just waking up. 

As the sun came up Herman quietly woke the others, “It’s been quiet for about a half hour. I was watching out the window. It looks like they are attracted to noise, light and movement. They chase cars like dogs. I saw a woman standing against a door. They walked right passed her like she wasn’t there until something spooked her. She screamed and about ten of them turned on her. She could have outrun them but she froze. She stood there screaming until they got her. They ripped her apart and were eating her right in the street.”

Jamie questioned, “Do you think we should check what they are saying on TV?”

Roger turned the TV on. With the sound turned low the six crowded close and watched. The same anchor from last night was still there. But his hair was no longer perfect. He no longer was trying to appear solemn. He appeared honestly terrified as he announced that they were cutting away to the mayor, “Mayor Warren is just starting his press conference. We will be joining him now.”

Mayor Warren at his press conference, “I have ordered the Police to use the utmost restraint. Those suffering from this illness are victims not criminals. Unfortunately I have had to suspend several Police Officers for calling individuals infected with this disease, which appears to be related to rabies zombies. Statements like these which I find akin to racism will not be tolerated. Those Police Officers have no business on the street and I will do all in my power to have them fired. They are Emotionally Disturbed Infected Persons (E.D.I.P.S.) not zombies. Furthermore anyone who shoots and kills one of these unarmed sick people will be charged with murder. The Emergency Services of this city are doing all they can to bring the situation under control and the situation is expected to be under control by the end of the day. No questions at this time. Thank you”

The anchor repeated the mayor’s statement and asked if the mayor had been paying any attention to the news reports, “This is not a city problem this is a worldwide crisis.” Touching his ear the anchor announced, “I am getting a report from our onsite reporter in front of Rockefeller Center. What are the conditions on the street Harry?”

“It’s like a scene from a horror movie. Those infected will attack anyone they can reach clawing and biting. All higher brain functions appear to cease and the infected seem to be operating only as predators. I have been ducking in and out of the building whenever I see some coming.”

The anchor started screaming, “Harry, Harry look behind you, get in here.”

The cameraman turned and the camera panned to a group of about fifty infected. The two turned and ran for the door with Edips right behind them. They hit the door but it was locked.

The reporter was screaming to open the door but the security guard just stared at the zombies and shook his head. The camera caught it as they started to rip into the reporter and cameraman. They were biting and clawing large chunks of meat off the pair while the newsmen screamed.

When they cut back to the stunned anchor man he pulled his ear phone off and said, “Fuck this shit, if anyone out there hears me and can get out of this city do it now. I am.” He then walked off leaving an empty set.

Joe turned the TV off, “How the hell are we going to make it from one end of Long Island to the other? If one road is blocked we are all dead.”

The six sat around looking at each other when Brian said, “A boat, we need a boat. If we can make it to the marina we get the biggest boat we can and go for them. The roads may be blocked but the sea will be open.”

Herman said, “Yeah, but be as quiet as we can, remember they are attracted to noise.”

After Brian called Tony he told the group, “Tony has almost eighty people barricaded in the store. They have food and plenty of beds. He said they could hole up there for a week. I asked, and Tony says the stores dock is clear. I told him we were on our way to get them by boat. Tony is going to collect all that could be useful. When we get there we will load whatever we can on board. So we need to find a very big boat.”

The six now had a plan and a mission as they crept from the Motel room. They stopped on the second floor balcony to make sure the street below was clear. The street was strewn with gore, bits of clothes and flesh from those who had been caught in the street overnight. The smell of blood, rotting meat and feces both human and zombie was thick and foul.

Four Edips were shuffling about in the middle of the street as the NiteOwls edged towards their van. They had two guns among them but would only use them in an emergency. Their weapons if needed were filet knives and the butts of their fishing rods. They had left the heavy tuna reels on and would use them like war hammers.

They were twenty yards from the van when one of the walking dead noticed them. He grunted and headed for them emitting a throaty keening squeal which attracted three others. From all directions the same keening and grunts could be heard. The group now ran for the van as the four approached. Roger was trying to unlock the driver’s door and cursing the dead battery in his key remote as the four creatures reached them. The four creatures went down quickly when struck by the fishing rod clubs. But now more were coming around the corners attracted by the wailing almost mourning sound from the others. The six tumbled into the van and Roger took off before the doors were closed, running down two of the approaching herd.

Roger turned right onto Soundview Drive heading for West Lake. A right on West Lake and they were speeding south towards the Marina. They passed the creatures on the street before they noticed the van.

Jamie said, “Damn, it looks like we are going to make it.”

Herman looking out the rear window said, “We may make it there but we better find a boat fast, hundreds of those things are following us. They may be slow but I doubt if we’ll have more than fifteen or twenty minutes to get away.”

Roger clipped another one as he fish tailed onto Star Island road and headed for the docks.

Herman looking out at the few zombies that stumbled by and laughed, “There aren’t many zombies here but they are better dressed. I guess the rich still like to be exclusive even when they are zombies. I wonder if they prefer to eat French people.”

Jamie said, “Hey, Hey don’t even joke about that shit my grandfather was French.”

Herman laughed, “Thanks for telling us. Brian, if they get too close we can throw them Jamie.”

Jamie, “Asshole.”

Roger slid to a stop in front of the largest boat he could see. As they started for the gangway they heard someone yelling from the boat. The man was calling for help that there were zombies on board.

Ralph asked, “How many?”

“Six, they have two of us trapped in here. They’re the owner of the boat and his friends.”

The guys decided that they can’t leave them there and headed up the gang plank. They killed the first three before they were noticed and made short work of the rest.”

The two men were part of the crew. It helped having someone aboard who knew how to handle the huge incredible boat. They pulled the gangplank up and cast off as the first of the creatures entered the marina.

The two men who had been trapped in the pilot house now came out.

Before they could say anything Brian grabbed the first one, “What’s your name?”


“Okay, Brendan Do you know how to run this boat?”

“Sure I was the first mate.”

“Then get us the hell out of here.”

“Yes sir.”




Posted March 28, 2018 by kevingcox in Random Thoughts

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My Latest Books     Leave a comment


It’s been some week for me. I published the sequel to a “A Year In Bushwick”. “Back to Bushwick” is now available in paperback on Amazon for $12.50 and on Kindle for$2.99. I also just finished my zombie apocalypse book “E.D.I.P.s” That stands for Extremely Dead Infected People. The story there is of six friends from Red Hook who go on their annual fishing trip to Montauk when the apocalypse hits. They have to get back to save their families and that is where the story really begins. That should be available in paperback by next week for $8.00. It is available on Kindle for $2.99.

Next I am going to try to write something about growing up in the fifties and sixties in Red Hook Brooklyn. If anyone has any memories from that time they would like to share with me I am listening. I want the book to make people feel what it was like to grow up in Red Hook back then.


Posted March 21, 2018 by kevingcox in Random Thoughts

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Kung Fu Asshole   1 comment

This is the story I will be reading tomorrow at the Inspired Mic. It comes from my new book. The book is available for Kindle right now and as soon as I get the proofs back and can okay it, It will be available on Amazon as a paperback. It took long enough but I finally finished it. That is what happens when you write two completely different books at the same time.



This is the story of the only time Mike (Super Jew) Katz and Frank (Young Frankenstein) Walsh ever had to go to the Civilian Complaint review Board.

Now Mike and Frank did not like to fight at all. They didn’t make a lot of collars. They were more into just giving tickets and avoiding trouble. Some cops had been known to say if they were any more laid back they’d be stuffed.

 They were leisurely patrolling along Bushwick Avenue one day,  when Central called.

“Central to Eight-Three Eddie-Frank for a 10-52 K.”

Frank answered, “Eddie-Frank, go ahead Central.”

“Eddie-Frank respond to a 10-52 Family Dispute 1241 Gates Avenue second floor meet complainant Anderson.”

Frank and Mike rolled slowly to the scene hoping the fight would be over by the time they got there.

Frank always said, “If Central doesn’t say it’s a violent dispute, take your time. Most the time if you don’t rush they’ll kiss and make up before you get there. The job will handle itself. You can go for days without actually having to do anything but drive up and say is everybody happy.”

This was not one of those days. They could see the second floor apartment door was open as they entered the hall. They didn’t hear any screaming so that was the first good sign.  Unfortunately it was also the last good sign.

Upon reaching the second floor landing a girl came running out of the apartment screaming that he’s crazy. He was trying to kill her.

Entering the apartment they saw a young man standing in the middle of the kitchen with his back to them. The table was flipped over and food thrown all around. Mike was still hoping that they could clear this as condition corrected without having to do anything.

Mike said, “Police, everything all right here?”

The man who looked to be about twenty slowly turned, gave the two cops his best Bruce Dern psycho stare and screamed, “Get the fuck out of my house or I’ll kill you.”

Frank looked at Mike and keyed in his portable radio, “Eight-Three Eddie-Frank to Central K.”


“Can I have a 10-85 forthwith at this location on a violent dispute, Possible Psycho.”

“Eight-Three John-King read direct Central enroute.”

“Okay John-King, Eddie-Frank did you receive.”

“Affirmative Central.”

Mike put his hands out trying to calm the man, “Relax we’re just here to find out what’s happening. We aren’t here to hurt anyone.”

The psycho screams again, “What’s happening? What’s happening? I’ll tell you what’s happening. None of your damn business is happening. Now get out or I’ll kill you both.”

“Whoa, whoa no one has to be hurt. Let’s talk about this.”

At that the twenty year old asshole pulled out a pair of Nunchucks and went into the whole Bruce Lee routine. He has one stick under his right arm and the other in his right hand.

Mike said, “Hey, hey put that away before somebody gets hurt.”

With that the man goes into action and the stick flew out from under his arm. The stick was swinging around so fast the cops could see it only as a blur. They backed up a couple of steps. The man was jumping, spinning and screaming. They could hear the stick whizzing around him. Both cops pulled their guns.

Frank looked at Mike, “This fuckin guy is scary. We may have to shoot him.”

Mike nodded, “Yeah you better shoot him.”

“Me? Why me? Why don’t you shoot him?”

Before either one could fire a shot they learned he was not quite as good as they thought he was. On a pass around his neck he hit himself in the back of the head. Blood spurted out onto the wall behind him. He staggered for a couple of seconds but as they tried to move in on him he regained his footing. 

The sticks never slowed, speeding behind and in front of him. Mike and Frank separated to make it harder for him to focus on them. Both continued trying to talk him into a peaceful surrender. He was swiveling his head and spinning from one to the other when he lost concentration and struck himself on the left side of the face. The chain between the sticks smacked into his nose which broke immediately. He was now bleeding from the back of his head. His left eye was swollen shut and the skin around it split open, blood was gushing from there and from his nose.

 He was now covered with blood. The two cops who hadn’t even touched him were standing there with their mouths hanging open, stunned by what was happening in front of them.

 Frank said, “Mike, we’re going to have to stop this guy before he kills himself.”

 “How, he’s moving so fast I can’t get near him?”

As he spun blood flew out hitting the walls and the two cops. Luckily, on the next pass behind his back his stick slammed into his left elbow. When it did, the nunchucks flew out of his hand and he grabbed his arm. They tackled and handcuffed him before he had a chance to fight. At the hospital, it was determined that he had fractured his nose and left orbit. He needed twelve stitches in his head and he had also broken his own elbow.

He was arrested for Menacing and Criminal Possession of a Weapon. In court the next day at arraignment the judge ordered him to Kings County for a ten day mental health exam. His Legal Aid Attorney filed the civilian complaint calling it police brutality. It was eventually ruled in their favor, but for two cops who had never been to CCRB before it was frightening. The cops never heard from him again. As a Kung Fu master he turned out to be more Jerry Lewis than Bruce Lee.


Posted March 14, 2018 by kevingcox in Random Thoughts

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Toad’s Tale   Leave a comment

Here I am reading the only children’s story I ever wrote. It was part of a writing exercise.

Posted February 17, 2018 by kevingcox in Random Thoughts

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Down at Newtown Creek Part 2   Leave a comment

On the four by twelve the same day Frank Walsh and John Stern were in sector George. Word had gotten around the precinct that someone was out hunting rats on the midnight.

Over coffee Frank said, “Drive down to where all the rats were shot last night. See if we can find anyone hanging around.”

The Buzzard answered, “Why scare them away? They can come back and shoot a few hundred every night. Last week on a call I was in the basement of an abandoned factory when I heard a noise. I flipped on my flashlight and there were thousands of rats down there. They panicked at the light and the only way out was the stairs I was on. They charged by me. They were on my feet and legs crawling all over me. I almost shit my pants and puked. I hate rats.”

“Come on, don’t be a pussy. Rats are like squirrels with no fur on their tails.”

“I don’t like squirrels either. I’ll drive there but if there are rats all over the place I’m fuckin leaving. Those rabid beady eyed little bastards look at me like a piece of cheese.”

“Don’t worry they don’t come out during the day.”

The Buzzard complained about rats all the way but there were no rats when they got there. Frank and John got out of the car and tried to find where the shots were fired from the night before. They climbed right over the spot where Gerry and Bob shot from but any ejected cases had fallen down between the boards of the pallets. There was no visible evidence. No one considered calling C.S.U out for dead rats. So the case had been closed but it was still interesting to Frank.

After about fifteen minutes The Buzzard said, “Let’s get out of here. There’s nothing to see but blood and little pieces of rats.”

A disappointed Frank said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Frank was standing at the edge of Newtown Creek. The second most polluted water in New York City. Only the Gowanus Canal was worse. The creek was about seven feet below street level. As Frank turned to return to the car he stopped.

“Hey, John what’s that over there?”

John responded, “Where? If it’s a fuckin rat I’m leaving.”

Frank pointed, “Over there, do you see it? Can you tell what it is?”

John was closer to where Frank pointed. He walked a little way along the edge of the water until he got a clear view.

“Son of a bitch, you make me drive over here to see dead rat parts and now we get stuck with a floater. I’m not going into that shit to see if he is still alive.”

“Look at him. He ain’t never getting any deader than he is right now. You stay here I’ll call the Sgt. and ESU.”

Sgt. Artie Hynes pulled up a few minutes after the call went out.

“Where‘s the floater?”

Frank answered, “Right over there Sarge by the sand bar.”

“That’s not a sand bar. That sand is floating on top of the creek”

The Buzzard said, “How can sand float on water?”

“This isn’t water, this is Newtown creek. God knows what’s in it. Did you call for the M.E. yet?”

“No we were going to wait for ESU to pull him out.”

“I’ll call the squad and ME; ESU will be here long before he is. You two stay with the body.”

John said, “Sarge, what about our meal?”

“I don’t have anyone available to relieve you. You will have to relieve each other.”

After Sgt. Hynes left The Buzzard turned to Frank, “I am not going to stand out here alone waiting for the rats to come out.”

“John, the rats are more afraid of you then you are of them.”

“I don’t care. I’m not staying here alone unless I am in the car.”

“Okay, I’ll call a sector to stop by and we can have them pick up food for us. You can stay in the car.”

ESU arrived five minutes later. Sgt. Hynes and the squad were right behind them.

Hynes called them all together, “I talked to the ME and explained the situation. He said for ESU to bring the body to shore that he sure as hell wasn’t going into the water to check him. He said he should be here in about an hour or so.”

P.O. Moore one of the Emergency Service Officers walked to the edge of the Creek and said, “This should be no problem.”

He turned to his partner and yelled, “Jack get the rope. Toss an end to me when I get the body onto the sand bar.”

As Sgt. Hynes opened his mouth to warn about that “sand bar” Moore jumped. It was a good jump he hit the sand right in the middle and went right through. He came up a couple of seconds later gasping and gagging. All four cops and the Sgt. ran to the edge. The other ESU cop tossed two lines to Moore. Moore tied one end around the DOA and grabbed the second line that his partner threw him.

The four cops heaved Moore up and over onto the street. He was covered in water and only God knows what else. There were green, Red, yellow, Black, brown and purple strings, stains and lumps of slime covering him. Moore was up on his knees puking as the three hauled the body up. It was obvious that the man had been shot at least once. That one was right in the forehead.

The detectives from the precinct squad now got close enough o verify that it was a homicide. Two of the detectives were Artie and Jim. I had been having trouble with those two for a year. They were pretty useless. They had not helped to pull either the cop or the body out because they didn’t want to get their suits or London Fog trench coats stained. At the time just about all the squad wore London Fogs.

Detective Artie said, “This looks like it could be a homicide. I’ll notify the Homicide Squad. We aren’t needed here and he’s ripe. We are going back to the station house.”

As the two drove away Sgt. Hynes shook his head, “There go two useless bastards. Those two couldn’t find a Jew in Israel.”

The ME arrived shortly after and pronounced him dead. He said he would expedite the morgue wagon. They always say that but the cops never believe them. This time apparently he did. When he called it in he said the body was out in the middle of the street so a rush was needed to get him out of there. He didn’t mention that it was in a commercial area and the only people within blocks were the cops. The wagon was there and the body was removed a half hour later.

That night at the change of tours Frank saw Peterson, “Hey Gerry, The Buzzard and I went to where you had the rat shooters last night. To see if we could find anything.”

Gerry said, “Did you?”

“Yeah, we were just getting ready to leave when I spotted something in the water. We found a floater. He was shot in the head.”

Gerry just looked at him for a second and felt a little dizzy. After a few seconds he managed to say, “Do they think he was killed last night?” Visions of prison were dancing in his head.

“No, the ME said he had been in the creek for four or five days. It looks like a mob hit and dump.”

Gerry said, “I better go get changed before I’m late for roll call.”

Gerry ran up to the third floor stopping at the men’s room to throw up before going to his locker. McDuff changing in the locker next to Gerry’s”

When he saw Gerry he said, “Damn, are you sick? You look like shit.”

Gerry answered, “Everything is okay but I almost had a heart attack. I’ll explain when we’re in the car.”


Posted January 31, 2018 by kevingcox in Random Thoughts, Uncategorized

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