Part 2 – Kenny Sullivan

  Chapter Ten – Two Years in the Desert.

  Kenny was a slender man, but he was above average height. For most of his life, he looked lighter than he was. His true name was Kenneth Rubin Sullivan. Only his mother called him that. His wife was the only one who called him Ken, and she did this rarely. He did not consider himself very different from most people living in the Northeastern United States. Kenneth believed he was just a guy trying to make a living. He had learned that sometimes it was easy, and sometimes it was hard. He was still young. This morning, Kenny looked in the mirror. Hints of grey had begun to sneak in. He smiled at how normal his life really was.

  In reality, Kenny was unique in several ways. He had survived two years in a desert war, and he had come home intact. Well, he was more whole than some of his friends. Kenny also had a keen understanding of people and events around him. He did not think he was unique in this ability. But this capability was extremely rare. From a quick scan of a room, he could learn who's who. He knew the players and the civilians. He seemed to know when something would go down. Even if, He didn't always know what. He seemed to know what to do. Kenny could take a hit, but he was not much of a fighter. Even so, Kenny always seemed to come through in the end. Today Kenny came with an investigator's license, a concealed carry permit, a short gun, a long coat, a Scully cap and two employees. And he came to this corner with a case.

  And elderly man had been beaten and robbed. A nefarious suggestion had been made by the District Attorney sister-in-law. She knew that the old man's eyesight was not as good as it used to be. She didn't know anything about the old man. She said this because of the artwork she had gotten at a very good price. She had been very aware of its origin when she purchased it. The familiar ties were loose and fleeting. It was well understood that no direct connection between the District Attorney and the criminal would ever be found. In the end, the case withered away from neglect. The police and District Attorney said that the old man was not a credible witness.

  The man's children and grandchildren disagreed. This was where Kenny came in.

  It was Massachusetts in the spring, but it still seemed like winter. Kenny quickly scanned the area around him. He was on a street corner. Red brick buildings were near. Highrise buildings stood in the background. An uneasy feeling followed him all morning. Reluctantly, he pushed the feeling aside.

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  The moment of truth had arrived. On Kenny's right was an alley. It was lined on both sides by red brick walls. Nearly at the end of the left wall was a green door. It was an unsanctioned pawnshop. Garbage cans on each side of the alley partially blocked the view. The double doors at the end of the alley led to the back of a restaurant. One of his men watched the street side of the restaurant. The other man with a block away on the corner.

  The term “person of interest" flashed through Kenny's mind. Today was the day they would catch him. Kenny was sure. They had already found the fence. And they had heard about another robbery. This guy followed the same pattern. He picked on the weak and defenseless. The word was that he had been doing this for over 20 years. He normally committed crimes of opportunity. Then he sold to those who had something to lose. This was where his partners in crime came in. At times they would even blackmail buyers. The images of what he did to the old man flashed in Kenny's mind. Kenny decided he wouldn't call him a person of interest. This guy was a thug. That's what he would call him. A thug.

  Kenny waited. The uneasy feeling he had had earlier had not gone away. He had this feeling before. Either he was being watched, or something was about to go terribly wrong. He glanced at Benny. Benny was older. He was a retired police officer. He had been a good officer. He had worked his way up to being a Sergeant. But no matter how hard he tried, he never made it to detective. Benny wanted to be a detective. So now he was working on his private license. He didn't miss being on the force. He found that he liked pursuing justice more than he liked pursuing the law. Working with Kenny and the kid suited him.

  The kid wasn't that young. His name was Jerome. He was sleek and fast. He was pretty good at scuffling, but he preferred to use his brain. That was one of the first lessons Kenny had taught him. The second lesson was to be patient around ex cops. Eventually he learned to be patient with most things. This made him good at surveillance. This was the reason he was outside the restaurant. Speed and patience. He felt that he would need both today.

  There was no sign or signal when the thug passed by Kenny. He gave no sign of knowing who Kenny was or why he was there. He had paused at the entry to the alleyway. He scanned the windows across the street. He looked left and right before he turned into the alley. There was no hint of trouble as he walked towards the green door. At the door, he glanced left and right again before he knocked. Then he was gone.

  The thief and the fence were in the same place. Kenny waved Benny over. Now all he had to do was make a call to an honest cop and hope for an honest prosecutor. It was a two-minute walk. Benny would watch while he went, and he would pause to make the call. There was a payphone between him and Kenny. It would only take a minute. Benny had his instructions. He knew what to do. He would watch and stay out of sight.

  Benny didn't have enough time to arrive before the plans changed.