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    chris191070
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Murder in Trump Tower - 1. Chapter 1

New York City detective, Kenneth Hall, interacted daily with the dregs of society. By the time he got home at the end of the day he felt so dirty he had to hit the shower. It had become an obsession with him. One hot August night, he came home exceptionally late. It was past midnight when he heard his phone ringing while he was in the shower. He ran out, wet and naked.

“Hello,” he croaked, completely out of breath.

“Ken, it’s Lieutenant Morton. I hate to bother you, but there’s been a murder.”

“What else is new? I’ve just put in a long day. Isn’t there someone else who can take this case?

“Yes, there is, but I’m sure you’ll want this one.”

“How’s that?”

“The murder occurred in Larry Whitmore’s apartment in Trump Tower.”

Ken froze. Larry was his ex-partner.

“Before you freak out, Larry is okay, but Jason Howard, his current partner, or his roommate, whichever, won’t get to his office tomorrow morning.”

******

Ken met Larry when he was investigating a serial murderer in the home of Monte Barnes in Nyack, NY. Monte was a highly successful, well-heeled, Broadway producer, and a friend of Ken’s, a very intimate friend. Nyack was way out of Ken’s jurisdiction, but Monte had invited him for the Labor Day weekend. The murders occurred in Monte’s home during the weekend, and Ken was more or less a captive investigator.

Larry was an aspiring actor, who was attempting to ingratiate himself with the famous producer by working as his houseboy. It was Larry who had greeted Ken at the door when he arrived. They were instantly attracted to each other. After the murders were solved, and the murderer apprehended, Monte gave Larry his big break, and he moved in with Ken in New York to be close to the theatre district.

Things went well between them in the beginning, but after a while, Ken’s job seemed to be taking possession of him. He came home brooding every night, and he wouldn’t let Larry touch him until he spent an hour or so cleansing himself in the shower. He treated everyone as being guilty until proven innocent. He began to snap at everything Larry said or tried to do for him. In short, he began to treat Larry like he was one of his murder suspects, that is, with disdain. When Larry had had enough of the abuse, he left.

******

Larry met Jason when he agreed to invest in Monte’s latest musical, in which Larry would star. Jason was a very wealthy financier. He knew that Larry was partnered with Ken, but he was relentless in pursuing Larry. So, when Larry left Ken, it was natural for him to move in with his rich benefactor.

******

When Ken arrived at the crime scene, he found two policemen trying to calm Larry down. He was covered with blood and highly hysterical. Ken recalled that at the Nyack murder scene, Larry almost passed out at the sight of blood. Being covered with it was really freaking him out. Notwithstanding his abhorrence to blood, he was the prime suspect at the moment. Ken completely rejected the fact that he had a history with Larry and began to see him as one of his suspects. His skin began to crawl, and he craved a shower. His obsession was no longer just an obsession, it was downright maniacal.

When Larry saw his former lover, he burst into tears. “Help me,” he pleaded. “Help me wash off all this blood.”

“In good time, but first I need to question you.” Ken was cold and dispassionate to the man who had once shared his bed, as well as life’s most intimate moments.

At first Larry was shocked at how little Ken cared for his wellbeing, but then he remembered why he left Ken in the first place. He got himself together and sat up straight.

“Alright, ask your questions,” Larry said in a huff, as if he had never known Ken before this night.

“Were you and … YOUR LOVER … home all evening?” Ken emphasized “your lover,” snidely.

“You know I wasn’t. I was performing on stage, as a couple of hundred people can attest to. I got home about 10:45 PM and called out to Jason. He didn’t answer, so I checked the bathroom. He wasn’t there, but I found him in the bedroom lying on the floor, covered in blood. He was alive and he tried to call out to me. First, I called 911, and then I ran over to him. I tried to sit him up. I know that was foolish, but I wasn’t thinking straight. It was then that I noticed he had a knife in his chest. I pulled it out. I know I shouldn’t have done that either, but I simply panicked. All the while, Jason kept whispering something to me. It sounded like onk or honk. It made no sense.”

“That’s a great story,” Ken sniggered. “You contaminated all the evidence, and it will explain why your fingerprints will be the only ones we’ll find on the knife.”

“That’s crazy,” Larry sobbed. “Why would I kill him? I cared for him.”

It took a lot to stun Ken, but when Larry said, “I cared for him,” Ken realized that he didn’t say, “I loved him.” Of course, Larry didn’t love Jason. He loved Ken, and he always would. It was a simple truth that Ken was fully aware of, even in his present state of denial.

The room grew silent for a minute, and then Larry cried out in great anguish, “You must believe me, Ken. You know me. You know I couldn’t kill anybody.”

Ken was still in “guilty until proven innocent” mode. He was unmoved by Larry’s distressful wail. Besides, Larry was an actor, and he could be putting on one hell of a performance. All at once Ken realized that he didn’t believe that at all. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Larry was incapable of murder. If he were, he would have killed Ken himself a long time ago, for the way he treated him. He certainly deserved it. In an instant Larry stopped being a guilty suspect, and Ken vowed to prove his innocence.

Ken jumped up, and ignoring the blood, he wrapped his arms around Larry. “Forgive me,” he whined. “I’ve been a complete jackass. Of course, you’re innocent, but I have to do my job now, and find the real murderer.”

For a moment Ken’s heart stopped. Had he been so closed-minded with other suspects that as a result, he had let murderers and criminals go unpursued and undetected? He vowed that it would never happen again.

Ken took Larry into the bathroom. He made him strip off all his clothes and take a shower to wash off the blood. When he was clean and dry, Larry packed a bag and went home with Ken. There was no love making that night, but wrapped up in each other’s arms, holding on firmly to their cocks, the two exhausted men fell fast asleep.

******

The following morning, Ken visited Jason’s office. It was Casual Friday and none of the staff was wearing a suit. It was the first time that they heard about his murder, and there was much shock and many tears. It was obvious that Jason was loved and respected by everybody who worked for him. The one person Ken was most anxious to speak to was Robert Goodwin. He was Jason’s Administrative Assistant, and if anyone knew if Jason had any enemies, it would be Rob.

He and Rob went into Jason’s private office and closed the door. Rob was in bad shape. He could hardly talk. Ken was really good at reading people’s emotions, and he knew immediately that Ron and Jason had slept together. Rob sat in Jason’s chair, and Ken sat in a chair facing the desk.

Rob was wearing a pullover sweater, and Ken observed that there was a company logo on the breast. It was an Egyptian Ankh. Bells began to ring in Ken’s head. “Where did you get that sweater?” he asked, very suspiciously.

“One of Jason’s clients, Jennifer Blake, asked him to investigate an Egyptian sweater company called Ankh,” Rob began. “They had contacted her, and she was thinking of investing with them. Jason met with the officers of that company yesterday morning. They’re staying in a hotel in downtown Manhattan. He brought back this sample sweater and gave it to me as a gift. I thought it looked great on me, and it’s made of very fine wool. I believed that things had gone well at the meeting, but they hadn’t. Jason called me into his office and dictated a memo to me for his client. I typed it up after he left message this morning.” Rob reached into the drawer, pulled out the memo, and handed it to Ken.

Ken read:

Dear Jennie. Do not invest one red cent with Ankh. The company is a phony. They don’t have enough plant or assets to manufacture ten sweaters, much less the thousands they promised you. I told them that I would discuss it with you on Monday when you returned from your ski trip.

Jason

The picture was quite clear. The executives of Ankh murdered Jason to keep him from saying anything to Jennifer, but they were true amateurs. They never figured that he would text a message to her before she returned from her trip.

Two hours later, armed with a search warrant, Ken and two cops entered the hotel room. These men were not diplomats. They did not have diplomatic immunity. Ken, and his men, found a small blood stain on the trousers of one of the executives. Subsequent DNA testing proved that it was Jason’s DNA. Their goose was cooked. They were arrested and hauled off to jail.

That night, Ken waited for Larry at the stage door. He swore that he had changed, and begged Larry for a second chance. It didn’t take much to melt Larry’s heart.

They had a light snack at an all-night diner, and then made love all through the night, and until 10 AM the next morning. They only quit because Larry had to perform in a Saturday matinee. He moved back with Ken, as soon as possible.

Copyright © 2024 chris191070, hankster; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

5 minutes ago, Anton_Cloche said:

Hmm? Perhaps we could have been told, at the start of this chapter, that this story occurs before 'Who's Afraid of Joe Vincente?'

As for the Title 'tease'? In real estate (and other sometime 'dodgy' business enterprised), this might be seen as a case of 'bait and switch'. I'm not saying that's what happened, :whistle: but appearances can be deceiving (or misunderstood. Billionaire, Millionaire? Tomato, kumquat?)

Did victim Jason's kushy job, set him up for a scam by foreigners who's promises were fake. And were those arrested Ankh Executives acting on their own, or part of a larger group?

FYI, the 'ankh'  symbol, found as jewelry pieces, embroidered on clothing (claiming to be 100% Egyptian Cotton), and literally thousands of other kitsch (often made in far east) is not just a 'good luck' charm. 

             images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTTPHituT5ev40LYGzyKn5

The ancient Egyptian symbol represents many aspects, including physical life, eternal life, immortality,  and, WAIT FOR IT ... DEATHNepthys.svgEgyptian Goddess of Death Nephthys holding Ankh. 🤔

 

Thanks for the awesome comments 😀 

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