Albert McCloud knew he was in the wrong place at the wrong time but with his uncanny methods of investigation, wasn’t afraid of the outcome if he was caught. He was on a mission of espionage dealing with the aftermath of the Beverly Hills Supper Club fire murders and in search of the political characters behind the ordeal. That fire claimed the lives of over 150 people in 1977 and those with the proper political pull insisted that faulty wiring had been the cause. With the fact that so many people in the Northern Kentucky area were afraid to speak about the incident nearly 50 years after it happened, the ex-cop turned private investigator felt that it wasn’t faulty wiring at all. He knew the mob had torched the huge Las Vegas-like facility and was out to prove it.
Entering the mansion of a key political henchman, a former governor’s chief of staff, and one who’d profited greatly from the massive fire, McCloud slipped into the inner office of Reece Davidson. Mr. Davidson had been the governor’s right-hand man, in Frankfort in those days, and McCloud had been told that the aging politician had recently moved to a local assisted living facility providing the sleuth the perfect time to ransack the former politician’s office.
Experience had taught him that culprits like Davidson often retained damaging information to provide themselves an alibi when necessary, and it was through his investigative mastery that he had hopes of locating its whereabouts. The information for which he was searching included: records, notes, recordings, and receipts, any of which might still be available somewhere inside Davidson’s office. He rifled through the desk drawers with the silence of an Indian guide. A small headband flashlight provided illumination as he picked apart the life of the former chief of staff.
He was just about to conclude his mission, having found several articles of investigative wealth, when the lights flashed on and three gunmen stood watching.
“Now, just what do we have here?” said one of the men.
“Look, fellas,” said McCloud. “You know me… I’m just practicing my game.”
“That’s real funny, McCloud. Practicing your game, huh? You were warned about this.”
“Hey, you were serious about that?”
“Yeah, we were. Now, guess what happens?”
A few hours later, Albert McCloud, sat tied to a chair in the bowels of a seedy porn shop. Through broken teeth and a large gash in his tongue, the aging detective spit blood saying…“I never thought you would go this far, Gabe, you of all people, hangin’ out with this riff-raff. And, you mindless oafs… you’re too stupid to do a simple job like burn down a building without killing hundreds of people. What kind of message were you sendin’ anyway? You even doused the walls with accelerant. Then you set the charges for the wrong time… twelve hours off. Who’d you get to do all that, Barney friggin Fife?”
Although McCloud had been one of Lexington’s finest and was tough as nails, he couldn’t help soiling himself with the enormous amount of pain his body was forced to endure.
“Hey, dude, it’s your damn fault. It’s not like we didn’t warn you,” said Gabe Winston, former Lexington police officer turned state’s witness in a frame-up that cost several of his fellow officers their jobs. He was among the two men sent by the Cleveland mob that had been beating McCloud for the better part of an hour.
With three broken ribs and both eyes completely closed, McCloud tried taking a deep breath before passing out. He’d done that several times after the pain became too much and each time the man with the brass knuckles would hold a cigarette lighter against McCloud’s fingers bringing the hapless private eye back to consciousness.
“Now, then, who’s next?”
“Let me at ’em,” said the other man in the room. “Don’t worry, Al, this is gonna hurt you more than it’s gonna hurt me.” And with that, he punched McCloud in the jaw breaking it with the blow.
“See, we told you to leave it alone. I don’t know how many times, but you wouldn’t listen now would you? Hey, Butch… gimme that knife. It’s time we finished this job. Okay, let’s get him out of here. He’s done. Take him up to Francine’s. That’s a perfect place for him to sop up this nice rain we’re having.”
Bill Johnson, a Newport Police officer, was the first on the scene of the McCloud beating. Bending over the lifeless body the officer clicked his radio microphone attached to his epaulet.
“I’ve got a 10-54 at Francine’s.”
Northern Kentucky, especially the town of Newport, has, for decades, been known as ‘Sin City’ as so many strip clubs, brothels, porn shops, and illegal gambling casinos parlayed every genre of mob-driven malignancy known to man.
“Find an ID?” asked the second officer.
“Yeah, but I can’t make it out,” said Johnson, rifling through the victim’s clothing as the badly beaten corpse soaked the blood-drenched rain.
“Hold on, here ya go. Looks like he’s from Lexington…name’s McCloud. Hey, wait a minute… looks like he’s got a police officer’s card here. It says here that he’s a fraternal member of the Lexington Police.”
“Guess we better get him outa this rain, hell, he’s one of us… or was. Says here he’s retired. Wonder what brought him up this way?”
“We can’t move him till the coroner gets here. But, we can cover him up some. Remember, one of us needs to call the police chief over in Lexington first thing tomorrow morning.”
When the coroner arrived Albert McCloud was taken to the Newport Morgue for further identification and notification of next of kin. With the removal of the man’s clothing, a gruesome pattern of nightmarish details surfaced causing the ME to disclaim…
“This poor guy didn’t have a chance. Wonder who he pissed off?”
“Throw a dart in any direction, there can’t be but two, three-hundred guys who’d fit that description, especially in this neck of the woods.”
“You know I still pray that one day, hopefully before I die, this place will become known as something other than ‘Sin City’.”
“Yeah, but you know what they say about wishing in one hand…”
“I would hate to be the person who has to identify this guy… whoever it is better have a strong stomach.”
Chapter 2
Later that morning…
Allison McCloud dozed soundly as her cell phone started ringing. She had gotten used to sleeping with it and a loaded pistol since the dissolution of her marriage.
“Hello.”
“Yes, this is the Newport Kentucky Police Department calling for anyone related to a mister Albert McCloud. Is there someone there who knows this man?”
“Yes… I’m Allison McCloud. I’m his daughter.”
Realizing a call from an out-of-town police department in the early hours of the morning could not be anything good, Allison felt her stomach drop. Her body froze as she slid to the floor. In her anguish she wrote the directions to the Newport Morgue, informing the caller she would be there as quickly as possible.
Driving the 80 miles to Newport in a tear-dripping fog, she thanked God there was no traffic. She was a tough-minded woman, always able to stand on her own which is why she’d decided to make the trip by herself. Although she was beginning to doubt her decision the closer she came to the city just across and on the West side of the Ohio River from Cincinnati.
She had lived well and had enjoyed a good time of it all except for her failed marriage, but, the closer she came to the state line, the further she dropped from the realm of self-certainty. Arriving at the morgue, she sat in her car asking herself if she was up to the task she had to perform. Thinking she was ready, she walked up the steps to the building feeling her legs buckling with every step. Knowing she would have to place herself in a trance-like state of mind, she addressed the person sitting at the front desk hoping her anguish would go unnoticed.
“I’m Allison McCloud. I’m here to identify Albert McCloud.”
“Is there anyone with you?” asked the attendant.
“No. Is that a problem?”
“Oh no… please come with me, I’ll take you back.”
The smell of decaying flesh is something one must experience once in a lifetime. Allison was met full in the face with that stench as she made her way to a large window.
“I’m going to open the curtain now, ma’am. Please brace yourself.”
“Wait,” said Allison. “Is he… I mean… is he…” she couldn’t bring herself to say the words, but what she meant was, was he recognizable? Or was he too badly beaten?
Opening the curtain brought Allison a dose of reality she’d never before known. Screaming and clutching at the window, it looked as though she was trying to climb through to be next to her daddy. It was gut-wrenching to hear the sounds that came from her body. The agony in her voice reverberated throughout the entire building.
“No, no, no, noooooooooo.”
She railed and screamed for several minutes until her mind reached overload whereby she fell, unconscious, to the floor. The attendant rushed to get help and Allison woke several minutes later on a gurney one of the attendants had procured. Not realizing where she was, she asked how long she’d been out.
“Just a few minutes, ma’am, you’ve just gone through one of the hardest things in life. We see many people react in this manner. Some don’t even make it inside the building before passing out.
“I’m sorry, I…”
“No, it’s okay. You just lay there until you feel you can get up. There’s no hurry.”
“You won’t leave me, will ya?” she asked.
“No ma’am. I’ll stay right here with you. Would you like some water?”
“Yes, please. I have to get up and get going, I have a long drive ahead of me.”
“Are you sure you are okay to drive? A thing like this can rock you.”
“I can’t afford to let it rock me. I mean, I am a grown woman. And, nothing I do or feel will ever bring him back.”
“Well, then we have some paperwork to do. Do you have any idea where you would like us to send the body?”
Hearing those words caused Allison’s tears to fall as she sobbed into her hands.
“I don’t know just yet. I’ll have to get back to you. I don’t know how this works.”
“Usually,” said the attendant, “you will contact a funeral home in your area and they will make all the arrangements. Trust me the hardest part for you is over. I must admit, it took guts for you to do this alone.”
“Okay, then I’ll just head back to Lexington. I have to tell my mother what’s happened. How long do I have?”
“There is no rush, but I wouldn’t wait more than a couple of days. Usually, when you decide on a funeral service, they dispatch a carrier immediately and everything is taken care of in good order.”
“You’ve been very kind,” said Allison.
“Would you like to see your father again before you leave?”
“I don’t think I can. I honestly don’t think I can. I don’t want that image in my mind. I’ll wait until I see him at the funeral home.”
“I think that’s a very wise decision. I’ll get the paperwork, and you can be on your way.”
The entire week went by without turmoil as Roger’s Funeral Home handled the visitation, ceremony, and burial at Frankfort Cemetery next to the grave of her twin brother, Albert Jr., who died when Allison was in the first grade.
Lexington’s Policemen fell out in full force as Albert McCloud was laid to rest to the sounds of taps and a twenty-one- gun salute. Allison’s mother tried her best to help with the details but, due to her failing health and on-coming dementia, was more of a burden. The flag which draped her dad’s coffin now rested above the fireplace in Allison’s office… one she’d shared with her dad until his death. As Allison tried to get back to work she was, once again, interrupted by a phone call relating a matter regarding her father’s autopsy.
“Miss McCloud,” said the medical examiner who had called, “we discovered a bullet inside your father’s body during our autopsy. It’s pretty much standard policy to inspect each body we see with a metal detector, especially those suspected of foul play. During the inspection of your father, we discovered a small-caliber bullet that had lodged quite close to his spinal column. I can understand why it was never removed, but nothing in his records showed where he had been shot. Do you know anything about this?”
“I didn’t know he’d been shot,” said Allison.
“Well, I just wanted to inform you of our findings. Would you like to have the bullet?”
“Yes, can you mail it to me?”
“We don’t usually send evidence of this nature through the mail, but you may pick it up at your convenience here at the ME’s office. Do you know where it is?”
“Unfortunately, I do. Okay then, I will drop by and pick it up. And, thanks for calling me.”
The silence in the room roared as the pensive lawyer, turned sleuth, sat behind locked doors ignoring the additional phone calls that poured in. She was inconsolable, but could not wallow in pity as her mother’s needs required more of her attention. Exhausted over the ordeal she sprawled out on the couch for a much-needed nap. Sleep had been her best friend, but lately, it seemed to have become an enemy leaving her more tired upon waking than when she’d lie down. Life was burdensome and she didn’t seem to be adapting with her normal diligence. The couch had been her dad’s home away from home and she could sense a whiff of his after-shave as she drifted off to a much-needed sleep asking herself over and again… Why, Daddy? Why?