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She fell onto the table with her head and shoulders slamming onto the tabletop with a loud bang that was all encompassing. Then she rolled off the table and onto the chair smashing it to bits, she ended lying on the floor looking more like a pile of rags than a person. A pool of blood formed around her head almost like a halo and the contrast against the white tile intensified the redness of the blood. *** The officer glared at Ryan and said, "Help you Chief?" "Yes, we would like to see the girl." The officer pointed to the door of the last cell but did not move out of their way. Ryan stepped around the officer, not caring that he pushed the patrolman backward with his shoulder, in his efforts to step up to the cell door. The cell was an eight by eight with a metal bunk and a combination sink/toilet in the middle of the rear wall that was fully open to the door. There was nothing in place to allow the girl any form of privacy. Ryan turned and looked at the Chief and said, with a voice as hard as steel, "Christ Chief, is this the best that you have for a young girl?" Ryan looked at the patrolman and barked, "Open the door!" The Chief stood there with a look of surprise on his face. He exclaimed, "I was told that there was a screen placed in front of the door to allow her some discretion. It is very obvious that I was miss informed." "Drake, Open that damn door, and move away. Now!" The patrolman opened the door and moved away quickly, all of the time staring at Ryan with contempt in his eyes. Ryan rushed in to the cell and stopped suddenly when he found the girl, huddled on the end of the bunk, with the blanket wrapped around her. She was shaking and looked very much like she was in a state of shock. He moved over to her slowly so that he would not frighten her any more than she was. Speaking softly he said, "Teresa, I’m a friend of your father and mother and I will be taking you home." The girl sprang from the bunk and threw her arms around Ryan’s neck and cried, "Please, please, don’t make me stay here any longer, please. They watch me all of the time and take photos and bet on how long I’m going to pee, Please, please, help me." She started to cry and shake uncontrollable. Ryan looked at the Chief and said, "Chief, she goes with me now! Is that a problem?" "No, of course not. I’m sorry Ryan. This is not acceptable and never should have happened. Please just stay in town until I clear the paperwork in the morning." "Fine, I’ll be in town, but the girl goes home tonight." Ryan placed his arm around the girl and led her out of the cell and towards the doorway that led up and out to the outside without waiting for a reply. *** With his finger, he traced the roughness that designated the name of the lucky, lucky soul selected. Gambino, Shirley, Seventeen thirty-four, One eighty-third street, Apartment 216a. "Shirley Gambino, Oh how wonderful, Dear, Dear Shirley. Soon we will be so close, so close." Kyle’s eyes were full of tears as he stood and moved over to the selection wheel. He placed his hand on the wheel at about two o’clock and pulled down. The wheel spun with a blur and the clicking of the pointer sounding extremely loud. The sound of the clicks sounding more pronounced as the spinning slowed. His eyes were glued on the pointer, flicking with each click, reading the names as they glided past. Gun, knife, ball bat, belt, club, drill, saw, hammer, fork, and the names passed more slowly. The wheel was almost spent. The pointer was slowly clicking past the names, click, click, click. The last click and the pointer bounced back and forth, ticking between the posts that separated the space. Kyle stood there staring at the space selected almost in a daze, space selected, "Locomotive." A death by locomotive. Kyle stood there with a thousand things going through his mind. He could almost see the terror that would be in Shirley’s eyes during the moments before the locomotive bearing down on her, cutting her in half.
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About the Book
Once again, Detective William H. Ryan is called upon to pull together a task force to solve multiple murders that span a two-state area. The murders are reported in small towns in New Jersey, Long Island and also spread across the boroughs of New York City. Many of Ryan’s family, in and out of Organized Crime, are drawn into the quest for the killer or killers, who seem to follow no rhyme or reason in selection of the victims. Each victim is brutally killed, in a sadistic and senseless way. The involvement and unknown inter-workings of organized crime--interwoven with a hard working Detective Division of a big city police force working with members of much smaller local police departments and the federal government--offer some level of understanding of the complexities of finding the guilty party. It also shows that finding is not always enough. The investigation uncovers the sickness of a mind and the ease in which anyone may be touched by its owner. We are all vulnerable and accessible, no matter how secure we may feel.
About the Author
Gilbert T. Engelke Jr. was born in 1947 in New York, New York and grew up living in both New York and New Jersey. He now lives in Savannah, Georgia with his wife, Janet. He is a graduate of Pacific Western University with a degree in engineering. He served in Vietnam with the U. S. Army, as a Combat Medical Specialist, from 1966 through 1968 and is a member of the Disabled American Veterans Organization. He enjoys the outdoor sports of golfing and fishing and the inside activities of reading, writing, and time with Janet and their Bullmastiff, Angel. He is currently the General Manager for the local branch of Siemens Building Technologies and will continue to write as long as the words and breath continue to happen.