Blood Contest Read online

  Rocco’s Bar has always been at the same location in Trenton, two blocks down Hamilton from the Roebling Wire Rope Mill. The original Rocco was a genius. He started his working man’s bar at the center of a bustling, working man’s city, just as Prohibition was ending in 1934. But that was then. Today, like the city, the bar had become a ghost of its former self.

  Ryan and Mueller found a parking space on the street, directly across from the bar. They walked across the street toward the rundown building, climbed the three steps to the entrance, and pushed against the grimy door into the bar.

  Once inside, they needed a moment to adjust their eyes to the dimly lit room.

  The interior of Rocco’s had not changed much in decades. A little light filtered through a row of small, dirty windows along the top of the outside wall, and from the incandescent lights on the ceiling. But neither were enough to illuminate the room properly.

  A mahogany bar ran along the entire right wall of the long and narrow room. Dark pine booths lined the wall opposite the bar, and a few scarred pine tables and chairs were scattered along the floor in front of the bar.

  The walls were painted a pale but now dingy green. Little craters dotted the wall where previous coats of paint had bubbled and cracked and been painted over.

  Bottles of cheap whiskey which were lined up along the bar’s back wall were what passed for ambience in this joint.

  Six older men in tattered coats were sitting elbow-to-elbow, along the bar, nursing shots of whiskey. Rocco’s bar has always been a place for hard-core drinkers, men who were weary from what life had thrown at them, but, after so many years, the bar had become decidedly shabby – even for that clientele.

  When Ryan and Mueller turned away from the bar, their eyes went immediately to Jerry O’Donoghue. Jerry was the bar’s current owner and Mike’s good friend, the sole reason why they were eating in Rocco’s that day. Jerry was slouching over a booth along the wall, but they could not miss him.

  Jerry was big, about 6’3”and easily 260 pounds. He was the great grandson of the original Rocco. The original Rocco was a short, swarthy Italian, but Jerry was a hulking, florid faced Irishman, only one quarter Italian. Jerry was wearing his usual business attire: black Dockers trousers, a skinny black tie with a wide brass tie bar, and a short sleeved, white, polyester shirt with a plastic pocket protector in its pocket. His curly reddish brown hair was cut close to his head.

  When Ryan and Mueller walked over, Jerry was joking with Mike, who was sitting in one of the booths along the wall. Jerry stood up from the table, pushed his glasses up the sweaty bridge of his nose with his finger, and greeted them, “Hi, Gents. How are you doing?”

  “Great, Jerry, what’s good for lunch today?” Ryan asked.

  “Your uncle wants a burger. If that works for you, I’ll head in the back and get them started.”

  “Yeah, sure,” they both replied.

  “Lupita will take care of your drinks while I start the burgers,” Jerry said as he trotted off to the kitchen.

  Ryan’s Uncle Mike was Major Michael Kieran of the New Jersey State Police. Mike looked very much like Ryan, just older. Mike was a little heavier, and a little shorter than Ryan. Mike had the same copperish blonde hair as Ryan had, just a little thinner and a little grayer at the temples. Mike had the same sparkling blue eyes that Ryan had, but he was very different from Ryan in other ways.

  He was never impulsive, as Ryan often was. He was always careful and thoughtful in his speech and actions. He was always warm and friendly. He was a builder of bridges between himself and others. He was a politician in the only good sense of that word.

  Mike gave Ryan a broad grin and said, “I was just talking to Jerry’s new bartender about the un-canny resemblance that I bear to her new boy friend.”

  “I plead guilty, Uncle,” Ryan replied to Mike’s statement. “I was here early Christmas afternoon, met Lupita, and left with her before I received the call about the murder of the Governor’s son.”

  “Jerry told me that she left with you before she had finished her shift. Is that true?” Mike asked.

  “That’s true, but it was her choice. I didn’t force her to leave.”

  “But I am sure that you were very persuasive, as you always are. Lupita is a sweet girl, but she is not one of your typical girls.”

  Ryan simply shrugged in reply, as if Mike’s concerns were meaningless to him.

  “Listen, Billy,” Mike said, “Lupita is a single mother. You should stay away from her unless you see yourself as her future husband and the father of her son.”

  “I am no father figure, Mike, and she is no child. She could have said no, but she didn’t. In fact, she enjoyed our date.”

  “That is not the point, Billy. You cannot act so rashly with a girl like her. There are serious consequences for her. It is not fair to her for you to keep this up. She is the sole support of her little boy, and she has to struggle every day financially. When you took her out of here before her shift was over, you put her livelihood in jeopardy – whether you had intended to do so or not.”

  Ryan put his hand to his forehead and kneaded his temples with his fingers.

  “I’ll think about it,” Ryan said, “but I won’t promise you anything.”

  “She is lucky that Jerry is a better human being than a businessman. Billy, you need to consider the consequences of your actions before you do them – not only for yourself, but for her as well. She does not deserve to have her livelihood put at risk for a little bit of fun.”

  “Okay, Mike, you made your point,” Ryan said. “I will apologize to Jerry before we leave today.”

  “Good. And don’t go out with her again.”

  “That will be up to her, Mike.”

  Just then Lupita walked up to the booth from behind Ryan. She was a stunning beauty. She was a gorgeous Latina in her mid-20s with flawless mocha skin and fiery dark brown eyes. She was clearly out of place at Rocco’s. She touched Ryan on the shoulder.

  “Sergeant Guapo,” she smiled. “You didn’t buy me dinner last night like you promised, and my finger tips are still wrinkled from spending so much time in your Jacuzzi.”

  Ryan grinned at her and said, “I am sorry Lupita. Let me make it up to you tonight. What do you say?”

  “I got into a lot of trouble with Jerry yesterday. I will have to think about it before I say yes again.” Then she turned abruptly to Mike and Mueller, and she asked, “Now, what can I get you all to drink?”

  As soon as they gave her their drink orders, she went back to the bar without giving Ryan his answer.

  Ryan watched her intently as she walked away in her short, clingy dress. When she got back to the bar, she was still watching Ryan out of the corner of her eye, but she wasn’t smiling.

  “I am sorry, Mike,” Ryan said. “I have to go talk to her and smooth things over with her.”

  Mike looked frustrated, but he did not stop Ryan from walking over to Lupita. Mike just shook his head.

  He turned to Mueller and smiled. “Sorry about that. It’s nice to see you again, Pete,”

  “Same here, Mike.”

  “I am sorry to hear that your leave had been canceled.”

  “I know that this is one of the largest cases our unit has seen, but Burton seemed to take too much enjoyment in cancelling the leave. Mike, I am beginning to detest the man.”

  “Frank Burton? He is a tough man, but I don’t think that he will go after you unless you give him reason. If you give him reason to question your performance, it could become very difficult for you, Pete.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Frank is the commander of the Crime Scene Unit. If he decides that you are out, you are out. He has the right to do so as the unit commander. I won’t be able to help you.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Just don’t give him a reason. You have to find a way to exist with him, Pete.”

  “I’ll do my best, Mike, but I still can’t help hating the guy.”


  “You will have to find a way to smooth it over with him.”

  “Okay.”

  “Tell me, Pete, how was your interview with the Governor?”

  “The interview was good… great, actually,” Mueller said. “Jamie was extremely helpful and supportive. Last night he had called the president of Trey’s bank and had him compile the bank’s files for all of Trey’s accounts. First thing this morning, Jamie gave us a memory stick with that information.”

  Mueller continued, “Jamie is very supportive of our efforts. He wants us to have all the resources necessary to solve this case as quickly as possible – even if those resources are beyond the department’s budget or power. He wants us to come directly to him if anyone slows down the investigation.”

  “That can’t really be a surprise to you, can it?” Mike said. “He is a very proactive man, and I think that he would do anything to achieve justice for his son.”

  “That’s true,” Mueller said, “but I was still surprised by the degree of active involvement he exhibited. Most family members of murder victims are in shock at this stage, but Jamie was very active in discussing the case with us. In addition to Trey’s circle of personal, social, and business acquaintances, Jamie implied that possibly he himself could have been the reason for Trey’s murder. He suggested a number of possible suspects who may be more closely connected to himself than to Trey: people in business, government, and politics; Jamie’s domestic enemies and international enemies. He gave us a full slate of suspects to consider.”

  “Jamie has been a successful politician for many years,” Mike said, “and, as a successful politician, he must have created his share of enemies along the way. Jamie has always been a master of the manipulation and use of money in politics.”

  “How so?”

  “There is a story about how Jamie won his congressional seat,” Mike went on. “In the late 1990s, Jamie was a state senator and had developed a friendship with another state senator, Senator Mendoza, who happened to be a Democrat. Mendoza was a very powerful Democrat. Mendoza had been the majority leader of the State Senate for a number of years, but he didn’t really have a chance of advancing to the post of Senate President. The Senate President was a Senator Esposito. Esposito was younger than Mendoza, but he had more seniority in the Senate and a little more strength in the Democratic caucus. Esposito was a party zealot, never willing to compromise if it would help the other party. Esposito represented a very solid Democratic district, so the chance that he would soon be replaced as the Senate President was nil.”

  “I don’t understand how Democratic politics would affect Jamie, a Republican,” Mueller said.

  “Well, nobody knows for sure,” Mike replied, “but the story becomes really interesting here. In the election of 2000, everything was going well for Esposito until a videotape surfaced ten days before the election. Esposito always portrayed himself as a very moral candidate, but the tape allegedly showed him engaging in rough sex with a teenage girl. Three days before the election, the girl came forward and claimed on television that Esposito ran a human trafficking ring which forced girls into prostitution. Esposito denied the allegations, but enough of his constituents doubted him that he narrowly lost the election. Within a few days the United States attorney impaneled a grand jury to examine the allegations against Esposito. Within a week, the videotape was proven to be a forgery, and the teenage girl simply vanished.”

  “And they tied this to Jamie?” Mueller asked.

  “No, they did not tie it to Jamie,” Mike replied. “The fraud was so well constructed that the investigators could never tie it to anyone. The investigators could only ask who gained from the fraud. Was it the Republican who narrowly beat Esposito in the election? That was unlikely. He was a sacrificial lamb whom the Republicans had nominated to face an unbeatable candidate. Also he held Esposito’s seat for only one election cycle.”

  “So then it was Mendoza?” Mueller asked.

  “At first Mendoza seemed to have gained the most from Esposito’s loss, because immediately Mendoza became the President of the State Senate; but, the United States attorney was never able to tie the fraud to Mendoza either. We have only conjecture about Mendoza’s guilt. No proof.”

  Mike continued his story. “After the 2000 census, the state legislature was charged with the task of realigning the United States congressional districts within the state according to the census results. Mendoza took a less partisan approach to redistricting than Esposito would have. In the next congressional election, two incumbent Democratic Congressmen found their residences realigned into the same congressional district. Suddenly Jamie’s residence was now in a mostly Republican congressional district that no longer had an incumbent Congressman. Jamie ran for and easily won that Congressional seat. He would hold it until he became Governor. Some people feel that Jamie’s congressional seat was the payoff from Mendoza for getting rid of Esposito. Again, there was never any proof that either Jamie or Mendoza was involved in the election fraud. It is only conjecture, based upon who benefited the most from Esposito’s defeat.”

  “Was Doctor Black involved in that campaign?”

  “Jamie had not yet met Black. After Jamie had been appointed to the House Armed Services Committee, he met Black in Iraq and quickly became friendly with him. Black had a problem with his medical license at that time, and Jamie used his influence to help Black. Black lost his medical license eventually, but, with Jamie’s help, Black started selling medical supplies to the Army. Black soon formed a contracting company to provide more services to the armed forces.”

  “I’m a little confused here, Mike. I thought that Doctor Black was Jamie’s brilliant strategist.”

  “After Black lost his medical license, he and Jamie developed a symbiotic relationship. Their relationship quickly became a two-way street – it became a superhighway of wealth, power, and influence traveling back and forth between them. Black was Jamie’s equal in political strategy, in raising and using political money, and in creating wealth. Together they became truly formidable.”

  Mike continued. “Black is the one who orchestrated Jamie’s gubernatorial campaign and who is directing the presidential campaign.”

  “We met Doctor Black this morning, Mike. He may be brilliant, but he is not very likable.”

  “Well, Pete, I think Black cares only whether Jamie likes him. And Jamie does like him... if only because he is brilliant.”

  Just then Ryan returned to their booth from the bar. He was struggling to carry a coffee and two iced teas to the table.

  “Her job is not as easy as I thought,” Ryan laughed.

  “Well, how did it go?” Mueller asked him.

  Ryan answered, “I have a date with her for tonight and for New Year’s Eve too.”

  Mike asked Ryan, “If you will not follow my advice, will you at least let me know when your relationship reaches the dangerous stage?”

  “And what stage is that, Uncle?”

  “When you have given the bartender at my favorite bar a reason to start spitting in our drinks.”

  Mueller looked up, and he could see Jerry rushing toward them from the kitchen in the back. Jerry had lined his arms with their food orders. As he pounded across the floor in his black orthopedic shoes, waves of fat rolled about his middle, and his arms pumped back and forth. When he got to their table, his florid face was dotted with perspiration. Jerry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his finger, leaned over the table, and said, “Okay, Gents, let’s see what we have here?”

  Jerry laid the three plates in front of them. They thanked him. Then he went back to the bar.

  “Billy,” Mike said, “Don’t forget about Sunday night’s dinner at my house.”

  “No, I won’t forget. I am planning to be there, Mike.”

  Then Mike said to Mueller. “Since all of your vacation plans were cancelled, why don’t you and Annie plan on joining us Sunday night?”

  “Thank you, Mike. I am sure
that Annie and I will enjoy it. We will be there.”

  They were startled when they heard Jerry yelling at them from the bar.

  “Isn’t this your case, fellas?”

  They looked up from the table and noticed the image of Trey Jamieson on the television over the bar. Mike pointed to the TV and said, “Here is your case, guys.”

  The program cut to a close-up of Will Cooper in his studio. Cooper wore an elegant grey suit and sat very erect as he stared into the camera with his earnest blue eyes and launched into his editorial:

  “Good afternoon,” he said gravely. “Yesterday – on Christmas Day – Trey Jamieson, the 30-year old son of Governor Jamie Jamieson, was ruthlessly murdered in the presence of his children outside his home in the affluent suburb of Princeton, New Jersey.

  “To many of us this brutal murder was a shocking and surprising crime. But should it have been so surprising to us? Could Trey Jamieson’s murder have been prevented?”

  Mike’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Wilson Cooper. He knew what was about to come.

  “The New Jersey State Police have the responsibility of protecting the life of Governor Jamieson,” Cooper said. ”As Governor Jamieson’s exposure has increased on the national political stage, the threat to Governor Jamieson and to his family has increased as well. Should the State Police have anticipated the threat to the Governor’s son? If they were properly prepared, could they have prevented the murder of Trey Jamieson as well?

  “I believe that the answer is yes to both of these questions,” Cooper said.

  Cooper leaned forward now and stared directly into the camera as he continued.

  “In my opinion, the New Jersey State Police lacks the experience to deal with national and international conspiracies. They are simply overmatched for this task.”

  Ryan’s face was florid. He was visibly upset with Cooper.

  Cooper continued, “The time has come for the New Jersey State Police to turn over both the security of the Jamieson family and the investigation of Trey Jamieson’s murder to an organization which is experienced in dealing with both national and international threats.