"Mister Zimmerman, the way I look at it is -- The only case of insurance fraud that we're going to be able to prove is this one. There's no evidence left from any of the other cases, but if we can make this one stick and make the other warehouse owners think that the midget is spilling his guts and this owner is turning all the others, it'll put a stop to all this crap. Isn't that what we want in the long run?"

Zimmerman had to agree, but he wasn't enthused about the methods Paul had used in his first case as a detective working for the 77th Precinct. He was about to ask Ernie what the Hell he was doing -- hanging around with Paul when the robbery complaint came in. He turned to Paul and growled,

"I sure hope you've got your shit together 'cause it's show time!"

When they got to the warehouse, Zimmerman warned Ernie to stay in the background and to try not to break anything. As Paul got out of his car, the little urchin from the dumpster crawled out of the dumpster again and hurried to Paul. He handed him a yellow envelope and ran off down the street.

"Who the Hell was that? asked Zimmerman.

"Just one of my task force," Paul answered, as he opened the envelope and looked inside -- "here look what we have here. Zimmerman looked. The envelope contained twelve photos of the Munchikin pouring acid on the files. His features were clearly defined.

"Shouldn't be too difficult identifying this fellow," Paul remarked.

"I already know who he is," replied Zimmerman, "he's a known arsonist -- been busted three or four times, but only did time once when he was a juvenile. Musta branched out into a new line of work. When he sees these, he'll sing like a canary -- trying to make a deal."

"Don't tell me," Paul quipped happily, "tell that to the ass-hole we're going in to take a robbery report from."

They met a Gavin Madison just inside the walk-through door. He introduced himself as the owner of the warehouse and asked what the Hell had been holding them up. He needed to get this over with, so his people could go to work. He was over-weight, arrogant, balding and sweating profusely even though it was quite cool in the warehouse.

He handed Zimmerman a list of items missing from the warehouse, stating,

"I took my manager and foreman and did a quick inventory from memory, but shit it could be at least three or four times that much. The damn inventory records were destroyed by the same bunch that ripped me off. All I know is that there was a big pile of this and that and now, it's all gone. I don't know exactly how many -- shit!"

Zimmerman glanced at it and handed it to Paul who asked,

"You mean there could be a whole bunch of inventory or there could be no inventory missing. Is that right?"

"Hell no! that's not right. What are you, a smart ass or something? I mean I'll never be able to get all my money back out of this mess because I can't prove how much inventory was stolen; and those damn insurance companies act like it was their money. They try to weasel out of paying anything."

"Mister Madison," Paul asked, "do you have an office where we could talk in private?" Gavin nodded and led them to his office. Once inside Paul resumed, his voice quiet, but very sincere,

"Mister Madison, I want you to look at these documents and these photos. The documents are two separate inventories made on these premises, sworn statements from attending police officers and the photos are of your employee crawling out of his box and pouring acid on your records." He motioned to Ernie, "Ernie, please get the two boxes. The one the midget arrived in and the one with the acid bottles."

He turned back to Madison,

"We have the midget in custody. He's singing like a canary to save his own ass. Now, you know you're going to jail, but for how long is up to you. Your cooperation in this affair, and how much you help us in bringing the other warehouse owners, involved in this insurance ripoff scheme, to justice will go a long way in lightening your sentence."

Gavin Madison looked like a football with the air removed -- he seemed to have collapsed inward. Staring at his desktop, he spoke only one sentence,

"I want it in writing, then we talk." Paul glanced over to Zimmerman and Fred grinned and gave him a vibrant thumbs- up. It was all over but the celebrating and .... the paperwork.

---------------------------------------------

Paul sat on a box in the back room of the Goodwill store. He was reading his copy of The Iron Heel, by Jack London. He didn't know where Manny had found the old book, but he had and that meant a lot. Manny's words still echoed in Paul's ears. When he handed Paul the book, he said,

"Pablo -- Amigo, someday maybe you'll find or make a family. To every man the need for a family comes. To me early, all of these people in this neighborhood are my family. Don't ask me to leave them or desert them in their need. Your need may come later because now, I feel you are bitter and need no one, but believe me, Amigo someday soon maybe you'll need and when you find, you'll never want to give up that feeling of being whole. And I, Manny Hernandez will say -- see I told you so."

Chapter Five
------------

Al Sampson had conferred with Zimmerman about the quick resolution of the warehouse robberies. He was pleased with the results: The insurance companies had been compensated for their losses, the warehouse managers and owners rather than fight a losing battle in criminal court had agreed to pay fines and restitution. It had all been accomplished in less than one week; however, he was quite concerned about Gillette's apparant disregard for the law and the department rules of conduct.

He instructed Zimmerman to give Paul a real "ass eating" and reassign both he and Ernie to narcotics. He said to verbally warn them both that he, Zimmerman would not put up with any more breaches of discipline.

The Case of The Parting Gift
----------------------------

The combination of being a bachelor and a work-a-holic earned Paul Gillette the privilege of working the hours of the full moon. The time when men are more likely to act like beasts.

Gillette put in his time pounding a beat in South L.A. His obvious disdain for the human vermin infesting the streets at night did little to encourage familiarity.

He met Ernie Stanton when they were both promoted to patrol cars and assigned the same shift.

Ernie was red-headed, chubby, and so pathetically clumsy that he soon broke through Gillette's glacial exterior.

He'd catch Paul grinning at his fumbling antics then, getting a clever smile on his face, he'd wink slyly at Gillette, as if he'd planned the whole scene. Paul never knew when to take him seriously, but they got along well together.

After several years of scraping up bodies off the pavement, busting drunk drivers, and several high-speed chases with drug crazed dopers shooting back, Gillette and Ernie Stanton made Detective and transferred to the narcotics division. Paul was from Detroit and Ernie was born and raised in Chicago, so being relatively unknown, they became selective volunteers for undercover work.

It was common knowledge that in the area between Slauson on the North, Manchester on the South, Vermont on the West, and Figueroa on the East; An Amata Pizza could be delivered to your door with any kind of topping you desired. Anything from pot to methe to snow could be had on Amata's Pizzas to go.

Paul and Ernie had been keeping Gus Amata's place of business under surveillance for almost a month, when they finally got their first break. They hadn't been able to bust the drivers without probable cause, and the same held true for the customers, so they were forced to just watch the store and follow the trucks.

All they could do was wait for someone to make a mistake. However, so far no one had even run a stop sign.

...........................

Mary Ann Mathews was the newest tenant in the building. She was, also, the youngest and prettiest. Everyone in the building was pleased, when she moved into her apartment. They congratulated Stan Doyle, the manager, on his choice in selecting their new neighbor.

The tenement building on Oak Avenue was similar to a small neighborhood. Everyone knew everything about everybody and everybody coexisted peacefully. Until that night, that night Mary Ann was mutilated and raped, while her neighbors huddled behind closed doors in fear.

They tried to ignore her screams and the pounding on the wall. Emile Wallace even turned up the volume on her TV, so she could say she heard nothing. Mildred Bailey was the only one to respond. She dialed 911 and told the operator someone was screaming at 3211 Oak Avenue. She hung up quickly, so they couldn't trace the call.

When the Police arrived, they had to walk up and down the halls knocking on doors. Finally, John and Edith Phelps told them to check apartment 2d. They thought they had heard a scream coming from there.

They found the door ajar and after looking inside, they called for an ambulance to take Mary to the Emergency Hospital. Questioning the neighboring tenants produced no useable information.

No one had seen anything or had heard anything except some muffled screams. They all said that the walls were thick and insulated and you couldn't hear what was going on next door.

The paramedics told the police Mary would live. Her wounds were not life threatening, but might scar her for life. Based on this information, the station decided not to send out any detectives. They were far too short handed to waste time on a simple rape and assault case. They wrote their reports and resumed their patrol duty. At the end of their shift, they turned in their reports and forgot about the rotten world they lived in.

........................

Mary Ann Mathews was born to a professional family. Her father was an electrical engineer, and her mother taught English at the local high school. Her little brother Frankie had hobbled around in a leg brace for the first twelve years of his life. Watching the poor little tyke was probably what had motivated Mary Ann to decide to become an orthopedic surgeon.

After medical school, she returned to her neighborhood and took up residency at Harbor General Hospital. To be close to the hospital, she had searched for and found an apartment in an older tenement building only a few miles away.

The building Manager, Stan Doyle, had shown her the apartment, and how the security buzzer system worked. He bragged about the neighbors.

Taking her to 1d, he knocked, and a huge woman about fifty years old came to the door. She had rolls of fat around her middle, and her buttocks and thighs were so big she would have to turn sideways to get through the door.

He introduced her to Mary as Mildred Bailey. Mildred smiled and said, she was a widow and stop by for coffee anytime 'cause she was always at home.

On her floor she met Emile Wallace in 2c, and John and Edith Phelps in 2e. Finally, they went to the third floor and she met Old Man Forrister in 3d. He growled out some words to the effect that he damn well wouldn't put up with any boom-boxes keeping him awake. He said he was deaf, but the vibration still bothered him. Mary Ann assured him that she didn't own one, and they returned to the managers office.

Doyle said, "Now, you've met everyone you share walls with. So, if you need something, you'll know which wall to bang on." She thanked him and said she would be moving in the first of the month. She felt as if, in some small way, she had gained a second family.

As the weeks went by, she melted into the tenement life and did indeed become part of the family. She drank gallons of coffee with the lonely Mildred Bailey and played cards with John and Edith. Sometimes, if they needed a fourth for bridge, Emile Wallace would join them .

They said, it was sure nice having their own private physician in the family. It put them on a par with the President.

Old Man Forrister didn't join in, but he wasn't nearly as grouchy. When his arthritis wasn't hurting, he would even smile. Sometimes -- grunting a, "Good morning," as he took his morning walk to buy the daily papers.

One Friday evening, as Mary Ann was fishing her key from her purse, she stooped to check her mailbox. There was no mail. She looked up and saw a small, very skinny youth checking the mail boxes. His eyes were sunken and close together. She could smell his body odor from ten feet away. He was carrying a pizza and looked angry.

"Can I help you?" She asked.

"Yeah, wherein Hell is Forrister? He ordered a pizza, and I can't read the names on these friggen mail boxes."

She thought to herself, "You probably can't read period." She said to him, "I'll tell Forrister you're here. He lives just above me, and he will come right down and get it."

"Just let me in, and I'll take it up to him. I don't want to stand around cooling my heels, while you people run up and down these stairs."

"No! We have security rules, and I can't let you enter the building. Mister Forrister must come down. I'm sorry." She turned and unlocked the door and was closing it as she talked.

"Bullshit lady, I'm going up!" He rushed to grab the closing door. Luckily, it had a snap lock because it snapped shut as he grabbed it.

He cursed and kicked the door and was making an obscene gesture at Mary, as she went up to tell Forrister his pizza had arrived.

Forrister thanked her and went for his pizza. Later that evening, for the first time, Forrister showed up at John and Edith's to watch the card game and kabitze. He brought his pizza. And so over pizza and cards, Mary told of her encounter with the bad smelling delivery boy.

Forrister volunteered that the boy's name was Vince Manelli. He had heard that Vince belonged to the Snake Bloods. They were a local gang who were terrorizing the neighborhood. He said to watch him because he was a bad ass.

Chapter Six
...........

Vince Manelli was steaming. That blonde bitch had talked down to him. He had seen the look of disgust in her eyes when she looked at him. After his wait, that old fart hadn't even tipped him a dime. God, how he hated them! Well by God, he'd make them pay, specially the bitch. Oh, she'd pay all right.

He went back to the building and wrote down the names of every tenant in the building. At the top of the page, he recorded the address of the building, then he returned to work. One way or another he was determined to get into that building, then look out!

For the next two weeks, he delivered pizzas and sharpened his knife. Finally, he got the call and his wait was over. A pizza for the fifth floor, and he was sure they wouldn't want to walk all the way down.

He delivered the pizza. While the old woman went for her purse, Vince checked out the locking arrangement on the apartment door. He smiled, "No problem, I can open it like a can of peas." After the woman paid for the pizza, Vince went downstairs to 2d. Using his knife, he was inside in less than a minute.

He moved around slowly. He knew exactly when she would be climbing the stairs and opening the door. Hadn't he watched her for weeks, timing every movement? Dreaming of this very moment? He shivered with anticipation.

He could hardly wait for her screams. He wasn't worried about being interrupted because he had lived in the tenements all of his life. He knew these people wouldn't want to get involved. They wouldn't even look out into the hall for fear that they might see someone. Then the police would make them spend hours at the station, looking at mug- books.

At five minutes before six, he stripped off all of his clothes except his tennis shoes. He didn't want to chase her in his bare feet. He held his knife in his right hand and he waited behind the door.

He had started to shake now, and he could feel it coming. He couldn't wait. He cut his own left forearm a little nick just to see the blood flow. He gave a little moan, it was coming and he was ready!

.....................

Mary Ann Mathews unlocked her door, picked up her bag of groceries, and entered her apartment. She took two steps into the room and stopped. Where had she smelled that foul odor? She gasped, turned, and screamed as she saw the naked maniac lunging at her. He had a bloody knife in his hand.

She threw the grocery bag in his face and ran to the Phelps' wall. She was pounding on it and screaming for help, when he pinned her hand to the wall with his knife. He wrapped her hair in his bloody left hand and tore her clothes off with his right.

He yanked the knife out of the wall and dragged her to the floor. He snarled, "Now, you high and mighty bitch, you get what coming to you!"

He entered her and with each thrust, he cut her face with his blade. The blood would surge, she would scream, and he would moan. Finally, he could wait no longer. He screamed and stabbed her in the shoulder. His body jerked several times and he lay quiet.

When he was dressed, he jabbed her with his knife point. He hissed, "One word to the cops and I'll come back and cut your throat. Understand?" She nodded silently, and he left.

She woke in the Hospital. Her Mother and Father were at her bedside. She reached out to her Mother and when the older woman wrapped her in her arms, the dam burst and the tears began to flow.

Her Father patted her on the shoulder and asked, "Can you identify the bastard who did this? I'll kill him! I swear to God, I will."

Before she could try to speak, the duty Doctor came in and asked her parents to leave. He had to change the dressing on her wounds. The Doctor tried to reassure her. He said that after they had cleaned her up the cuts weren't as bad as they had originally thought. With good cosmetic surgery, she could look normal in about a year.

Her first visitor the next morning was Detective Paul Gillette from the 77th Precinct. He sat on the edge of her bed and asked if she felt up to talking about her experience? She told him that it was a brutal, bloody rape not an experience. He replied that what it was, was up to the court to decide. Could she identify her attacker, or would she like to wait and go through the mug-books later?

She replied that the sadistic bastard's name was Vince Manelli, and he delivered pizzas to the building. When she actually said his name, she started crying and the nurse made Detective Gillette leave. She told him to try again tomorrow. Paul decided not to admit his real interest in Mary's case. She was far too upset to care about the Pizza Parlor's involvement in sales of narcotics.

Paul went back to the station. He pulled the rap sheet on Manelli, read it, and called his partner, Ernie.

"Ernie, we may have a break. One of Amata's drivers, a kid named, Vince Manelli raped a girl last night."

"Pick him up on suspicion of rape and assault. He'll probably beat the rape charge, but Amata will have to produce his delivery schedule to alibi him. That'll give us cause to enter those customers houses to verify his deliveries. Once inside, who knows?"

About six that evening, Ernie brought in Manelli. He was belligerent and demanding an attorney. He said, he had done nothing wrong, and if he was late, he would lose his job at the pizza parlor. Call his boss or let him go!

Gillette called the pizza parlor. When he had Gus on the line, he told him Vince was being detained for some routine questioning, and he'd be in to work later. He asked Gus if Vince had worked a full shift the night before? Gus replied that Vince had delivered more than thirty pizzas last night. They had been busy from four-thirty until midnight.

"Well, in that case, Gus, I'm sure you won't mind giving my partner a list of Vince's deliveries for last night. If we can verify his whereabouts, then we won't have to hold him here at the station. How about it, Gus, can I trust you enough to let the kid go on his own recognisance?"

"Yeah," Gus grunted, "turn the little bastard loose. I'll have that list ready for your partner, when he gets here." Gillette slammed down the phone. He turned to Manelli and told him to get out. He told Ernie to hurry over to Amata's Pizza Parlor before Gus got a chance to call everybody on the list.

He made one more trip to the building where Mary lived. After talking to her neighbors, one last time, he called it quits and went home.

The next morning, he entered Mary Ann's room and handed her a fax copy of Vinces' rap sheet. He pointed to the picture and asked,

"Is that the man who raped you?"

"Of course! I told you yesterday, it was Vince Manelli. When are you going to arrest him?" She looked back at the paper and continued reading.

"You see, it says right here that he has been arrested twelve times for assault and four times for rape or attempted rape. He's been in the Juvenile Correction Center for the last two years. My God, Mister Gillette, how could they have let a monster like that back on the streets?"

Paul shook his head and answered, "Mary, you said the key word, juvenile. Even the record that you are holding, couldn't be used as evidence in a trial. Juvenile records don't exist in the eyes of the courts. His boss, Gus Amata, will testify that he was working all night, and none of your neighbors will admit seeing or hearing anything."

"I'm sorry, but I don't have enough on him to even book him. We picked him up last night and he laughed at us.

"If you insist and file a complaint, I'll arrest him. He'll be out on bail in an hour, and some slick lawyer will have you looking like a prostitute by court time. Gus Amata's boys deliver a lot more than pizzas."

"We can't prove it yet, but we know Vince and his fellow workers deliver narcotics and run numbers for Gus."

"This is outrageous!" She sobbed, "You mean he can just rape me in my own home, and they can peddle dope, and you can't do anything?"

Paul looked at the floor, not meeting her eyes and answered, "That's about the size of it. It's a cruel world out there, Mary." He turned and left the room.

At the end of the second week, she left the Hospital and returned to her apartment. Her face was swathed in bandages and would be for several months until they completed the corrective surgery.

Stan Doyle met her as she entered the building. He told her how sorry they all were about what had happened. He had questioned every tenant, and no one had let any strangers into the building, so he didn't think that the building owners were liable.

He became much more friendly after she assured him that she wasn't thinking about suing anyone.

Her neighbors avoided meeting her in the hall. A chance encounter would cause them to look at the floor or pretend they hadn't seen her.

It was almost as if she had committed a crime. She knew they were blaming her for their own feelings of guilt.

At the Hospital, they had been forced to sedate her because in her sleep she would continually scream. She would relive her ordeal in her nightmares every night. Under heavy sedation she would sleep quietly all night.

At home, fearing addiction to the sedatives, she stopped taking them. Soon, her neighbors were reliving her nightmare, as every night, her screams echoed through the building.

They couldn't complain to her because they had told the police they couldn't hear her screaming on the night of the attack. They tried ear plugs, loud music, but nothing could block out those screams. After a month of sleepless nights, or nightmares of their own if they did fall asleep, they called a meeting.

Mildred Bailey was no longer fat. She had an ulcer and a hacking cough. John and Edith were on the verge of divorce. She had been berating him since the attack for his lack of manhood. Ridiculing him for hiding behind their door, while some young kid had raped and cut up their best friend. She had castrated him verbally until he actually became impotent.

Emile Wallace was into Valium so heavily she didn't know why she was there. Forrister didn't show up.

They decided to take up a petition to have Stan Doyle ask Mary to move. They could say they had heard that the Snake Bloods were going to break in and eliminate a witness.

Stan hated to do it, but they had twenty-four signatures. He knocked on Mary's door and when she answered, he showed her the petition. He then explained that it was for the safety of the building and the tenants.

With tears soaking the bandages beneath her eyes, she asked for thirty days and he agreed. Thirty days was fine with him.

As he scurried down the hall, she heard a voice close behind her. "I didn't sign that damn thing, and that ain't why they want you gone. It's that God damn screaming. Night after night, all night long, God damn screaming. I can't hear it, but you're driving them nuts, that's what you're doin." It was Forrister, he turned and walked away.

The next day, she told Doyle she was going to be painting, wallpapering, and replacing the carpet because of the blood stains. She wanted to leave the apartment in better shape when she moved out than when she moved in. He said, she didn't have to, but it was okay with him.

During the following two weeks, the neighbors had the screams all night and listened to pounding, scraping, and banging all day. Finally, the rug layers came and installed the new carpet, and the day noises ceased. The night sounds changed during the last two weeks.

Sometimes, there were shrill curses and angry screams. There were pleading sounds then agonizing screams, much louder than before. The neighbors were about to the point of madness when, finally, the moving van arrived. Mary Ann Mathews was packed up and gone by five in the afternoon.

Stan Doyle entered 2d followed by the Phelps and Emile Wallace. Emile was in such bad shape she could hardly walk.

"Is she really gone?" She asked.

"Sure is," said Stan. "And look at this apartment. It's beautiful, I sure won't have any trouble renting this." They returned to their homes looking forward to their first good night's sleep in months.

The whole building was asleep by nine o'clock even the pets. By ten-thirty, the snores were loud enough to be heard through the walls. At eleven-fifteen, the first blood curdling screams came from apartment 2d, and all Hell broke loose. The Phelps' and Emile Wallace dashed down stairs to find Stan Doyle.

Doyle was standing outside 1d trying to unlock Mildred Bailey's door. Screams were coming from inside, and when they entered, Mildred was having convulsions. She had gone mad. Doyle restrained her while John Phelps called 911.

After the Paramedics left with Mildred, they went up to 2d. Stan opened the door, and turned on the lights.

The apartment hadn't changed any since their last inspection tour. They thoroughly checked for anything that could have produced the horrible sounds that woke them. There was nothing, so they left and Stan locked up. It was one o'clock in the morning.

At three in the morning, Emile woke Stan up. She was shaking and crying. She said that the screaming had started again and she couldn't stand it any more. Stan woke the Phelps and asked if they heard the screaming. They said no, they hadn't heard a thing. They weren't happy about him waking them.

Emile said they must have heard it, and they told her to go take another pill and leave them alone.

The same thing happened the following night. At precisely eleven-fifteen, the screams woke everyone and continued until Doyle entered 2d. The instant he opened the door, the screaming stopped. And it didn't resume until two hours after he left the apartment. This time John and Edith heard it, but not Emile Wallace.

Stan Doyle was at his wits end. Every time it would start, someone would wake him up. This time it was the Phelps. He noticed Edith's lip was split, and she had two black eyes. Stan told them that tomorrow night, he would sleep in 2d and find the source of the screams.

The next night, Stan took his flashlight and his sleeping bag and sacked out in 2d. He was so exhausted from being awake so many nights, he slept right through all the screaming. He was finally aroused by Edith Phelps pounding and kicking on the door. He staggered to the door and let her in.

"What's the trouble?" He asked, "I was sleeping, and I didn't hear a thing."

"You musta been half dead then." She cried, out of bleeding lips. "The screams started, and when I started screaming at John, he beat on me until I hit him with my skillet." She smiled happily, showing three missing front teeth. "I think I killed him."

Doyle shook his groggy head, "This is crazy! Where's Emile? Why ain't she out here bitching at me?"

He walked past the trembling Edith Phelps and let himself into 2c. Emile Walker was in bed sound asleep, forever. There was an empty Valium bottle beside her body. He turned and went to 2e. He stopped after two steps into the room. John was indeed dead. Emile hadn't hit him just once with the skillet, it had taken many whacks to do that much damage.

He called 911 and when the police arrived, he handed them his keys and immediately fell sound asleep.

The police were more than a little puzzled by his actions, but they couldn't wake him. They took Edith into custody, removed the bodies, and taped off the three rooms on the second floor.

Chapter Seven
-------------

Paul Gillette questioned Edith, and then he tried in vain to get information from the tenants. When Doyle finally woke, Gillette was there to take his statement.

After Doyle had told the whole story exactly as it had happened, He said he was sure Mary's apartment was wired with timers and motion sensors. He thought the tape-player and speakers were all hidden in the walls and in the floor, somewhere.

He said he would have to move in and keep something warm moving all night. It would be too damn expensive to tear out the walls and the floor.

1d wasn't rentable because Mildred Bailey had suffered a nervous breakdown and was in the hospital. 2c was full of Emile Wallace's furniture and belongings. 2e was a crime scene and couldn't be disturbed. He was afraid he would lose his job over this.

Paul Gillette agreed it was a problem, but in his heart he felt no sympathy for the man. He asked if Mary Ann Mathews had left a forwarding address? Doyle said she hadn't, but he had her father's address and phone number. He gave them to him and Paul left.

Neither of Mary Ann's parents knew where she was now living. And it took Gillette three weeks to locate her. Her doctor at the hospital said she had arrived for her last treatment in a taxi. He said it was a Mercury Cab.

None of the drivers remembered taking a fare, whose face was wrapped in bandages, to the hospital. Ten days later, the dispatcher called Paul. He told him he had forgotten, but on that day, they had used two fill-in drivers. Two regulars had been sick.

Paul checked with the two men and one recalled picking up such a fare and returning her to the Marina. The Harbor Master's records indicated that Charles Mathews had a forty foot cabin-cruiser in slip thirty-eight.

When Paul walked out to slip thirty-eight, Mary Ann was sitting out on deck and waved gaily.

"Hi there," she yelled. "It's Detective Gillette isn't it? Come on board. I've got some fresh iced tea."

When he arrived and sat beside her, she continued, "Perhaps you'd rather have a cold beer?"

"That sounds great to me," He replied. "I had a Helluva time finding you. Have you heard about what happened at the tenement, where you used to live?"

"No, you'll have to tell me. Why don't we go below out of this sunshine. It's much cooler down there" He agreed and so beer in hand, he followed her down into the cabin.

She guided him to a small breakfast nook and sat opposite him. It was so dark that his eyes were still adjusting when she said,

"Paul, I believe you already know Vincent Manelli. Vincent has been my guest for about six weeks now." Paul peered through the darkness and finally was able to make out a figure. It was Manelli seated on a bench at the other end of the cabin. He was clean and well dressed in slacks and white shirt.

As Paul's eyes became accustomed to the light in the cabin, he saw to his surprise that Vince was reading from a small Bible. Vince looked at him, smiled, and said,

"Hi, Officer Gillette, It's really nice seeing you again. Have you come to take me to my new job?

"No, Vincent," Mary Answered. "It will be Captain Kane from the Salvation Army. He will pick you up tomorrow." She turned back to Paul and continued, "Poor Vincent is all rehabilitated now and ready to return to society."

"He had some serious problems, but we took care of them and now, he's all better."

"What do you mean, you took care of them?" Gillette thundered. "This man is beyond rehabilitation, he's a dangerous killer."

"Calm down, Paul, would you like another beer?" He shook his head, No.

"Paul, you told me, yourself, there was nothing you could do about what he did to me, or what Gus Amata is doing to the city. So, I decided to do something about it myself.

"Vincent had two problems. One was a vile disposition, and the other was that he became sexually aroused at the sight of blood and suffering. I had him with me the last two weeks at the apartment.

"Now, Vincent knows if he becomes even slightly aroused, he will immediately receive a rather large electric shock to a rather sensitive portion of his anatomy. The whole apparatus is implanted within his body. After several violent lessons, he finally began his rehabilitation.

"I don't believe anything could cause Vincent to become aroused ever again. I have also convinced him that it is his civic duty to tell you anything you need to know about Amata's activities. He will testify in court. You can find him any time. He will be working at the Salvation Army Mission. He tells me, he is a good cook."

Detective Paul Gillette finished his beer and stood up. He looked at Mary Ann, thoughtfully and shook his head. He turned and walked three steps toward the ladder leading to the deck above. He turned and spoke,

"Mary Ann Mathews, I should put you in jail and throw the key away, but I won't. However, I do have this problem and perhaps you'd be interested in helping? Over on Elm Street, There's this Child Molester who really could use some help... "

When he saw the sudden interest light up her eyes, he quickly added,

"Just kidding Mary Ann, just kidding; however, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to keep you and Vincent hidden on this boat until I can get his statement taken by the court stenographer."

"If his information is any good, we'll be picking up Gus Amata and charging him with narcotics trafficing, tax evasion and possibly murder. When that happens, Vince's life won't be worth two cents. The Snake Bloods will kill him before Gus makes bail. I think you better forget about him going to work at the Salvation Army, at least for awhile."

She agreed and promised to stay on the boat and let him bring their provisions, saying,

"You can be the provider, I'll be the cook and we'll have the opportunity to get better acquainted. Those plastic surgeons tell me I'll be pretty again, after they're through with me. What do you say?"

"Are you sure you can cook?" he replied with a grin as he returned to the table and sat back down. Vincent kept his nose buried in his Bible... "Shit!" Paul thought, "why not?"

During the following hectic weeks, Paul spent an ever increasing amount of time with Mary Ann. She waited eagerly for updated on his war against Gus Amata.

When Vince Manelli started talking to the District Attorney, there was no shutting him up. His experience with Mary Ann Mathews left him extremely conditioned to cooperate. He even volunteered information about crimes that had never been reported.

Warrants were issued for the immediate arrest of twenty members of the Snake Blood gang. Not one gang member was to be found. It seemed as though they had just vanished off the face of the Earth.

The District Attorney panicked when he was faced with the situation. Amata was free on bail and the Snake Bloods could not be found. If anything happened to Mary Ann Mathews or Vince Manelli before trial time, he was in deep trouble. He could kiss his chances to be elected States Attorney General bye-bye.

He called Detective Paul Gillette into his office.

"Sit down Paul," he said, as Gillette entered the room. "We've got a little problem and I need your help. Amata is loose on bail and I can't find any of those damn Snake Bloods to arrest.

"If they find Vince Manelli and or Mary Ann Mathews, we'll lose two witnesses faster than you can blink your eye. Those kids might be young but they are damned efficient killers. They know that with Vince dead, we don't have a case. Amata has a lot to lose."

"So the situation is that you have twenty killers looking for Vince and your girl friend and Amata paying the bounty. What I'd like you to do is take Vince, Mary Ann, and her family for a cruise on the father's cabin-cruiser. Go up the coast toward Seattle. Just coast hop, dropping anchor in any harbor that looks safe. I'll be in contact via ship to shore radio. We'll install scrambling equipment on the boat so no one will eavesdrop on our conversations."

"Sounds like a real good idea to me," Paul replied. "I think both of us should talk to Mary's parents. We'll need to convince them that twenty knife wielding young assassins would go to any extremes to find Mary and Vince."

Having seen the results of the knife attack on Mary Ann, it took very little persuasion to get Mary's parents to agree to the plan. In a very short time, Paul had the group packed, on board, and headed out to the open Sea. Mary's father, Charlie, was an experienced skipper and had his Coast-wise Skippers licence. He told Paul, he didn't expect any problems on their cruise and the weather would be perfect.

Mary Ann was the only crew member, who was upset. She was furious at having to run and hide from the Snake Bloods. She wanted to go back and rehabilitate all twenty of them.