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Ventura
Tuesday morning
April 18, 2012
8:45:00 a.m.
“Are your guy’s ready Lieutenant?” Detective John Potenza asked his friend and colleague Jim Vincent as he stood outside the back door to the Ventura Police Departments Headquarters.
“Ready as ready can be,” was the Lieutenant’s reply.
“You guys know the drill so let’s roll,” Potenza said as he pointed to the three uniformed police officers dressed in their traditional black gear. The heads nodded from all three and as they packed themselves into the two black and white squad cars, Potenza motioned Vincent to do the same. He would drive the powder blue ‘Vette to the tattoo parlor himself.
On the way down Main Street, Potenza watched as the morning waves rolled into the shore to his left. It was a perfect view as he rolled past Lincoln Elementary School, his alma mater so to speak. The school sits nestled in a hillside but the road above it gave a panorama of the ocean from Oxnard to Santa Barbara with several oil derricks off in the distance. The islands were gorgeous today he thought as the morning sun was overwhelming the little bit of fog that rolled in and burned out by mid morning. This was the kind of day people moved to California for. This was the best.
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DOWNTOWN VENTURA
Tuesday morning
April 18, 2012
9:15 a.m.
The drive to downtown was nice and easy, some shoppers milled around, the main coffee spot for espresso and cappuccino was bustling with customers. Across the street from the coffee house stood the tattoo parlor where Potenza and his officers were about to enter. Potenza parked on the same side a few doors up the street from Grister’s Half Moon. The squad cars split their time, one parking three doors down on the same side, the other directly across the street.
People at the coffee shop began to stir, looking hard at the two police cars and the officers who were coming out of them as if they meant business, because they did. One officer put out his hand and ordered one man to stay away. The man backed off while others came out of nearby shops. It was obvious something was going on and when Potenza, flanked by Vincent opened his coat to pull out a piece of paper backed by two uniformed officers, action was going to happen. The other officer positioned himself across the street behind the squad car. He looked prepared to pull his gun if needed.
“Detective John Potenza, Ventura Police nobody move,” Potenza shouted as he walked in the door arm raised high with the warrant. “I have a warrant to search this place, everyone relax and stand back.”
A young woman whom Grister had hired to take Jane Summers place stood behind the counter to the right while a tattoo artist dressed in black emerged from a station on the left. Both looked shocked and just stood still.
“Everybody relax, stand back and relax, let us do our job,” Potenza ordered the two workers. “We are searching for some very specific items, so stand clear of the counters and don’t try anything as we have several uniformed officers on the premises.”
Grister and Slash emerged from the back room with disgusted looks on their faces.
“Didn’t you get what you came for last time detective, or is this a new form of police harassment?” Grister complained in a loud grumbling voice.
“No George, it’s not and we didn’t,” the reply came swiftly. “We’re looking for something totally different this time.”
He looked at both men carefully and looked over at Vincent who gave the nod.
“Gentleman, I’ll need your jackets, will you please take them off?” Vincent pointed out to the two men.
Both gangsters looked at Vincent as if he were crazy.
“What the fuck do you want with our jackets?” Slash charged back.
“Now, now young man, you don’t have to use that kind of language, we’re here to do a civilized thing and we don’t need your potty mouth spoiling things for us,” Potenza mocked the younger gangster, who only got angrier. “Are you forgetting I can kick your ass anytime I want, off the record that is, little punky boy?”
As Slash made a move toward the officer Grister grabbed his sleeve, looked at him and basically without using words, ordered him to get back in line. Slash did exactly that. Both men took off their jackets which were quickly examined by the police officers who tagged them A and B for evidence and put the names of the owners on a slip they then attached to the jackets. This they could not mix up.
Vincent pointed to some obvious damage to Slash’s jacket. It had been repaired but there was no mistaking it was damaged. This very likely put Slash at the killing of Rodriguez although the lab would have to confirm it. Grister’s jacket was much older and had some damage but nothing which looked like it had been repaired recently. What Potenza was hoping for did not look like it was going to happen.
The officers continued to search the store front and back hoping in vain to find the small derringer.
“You knew your former employee had a different day job than working here, didn’t you Georgie?” Potenza asked referring to Summer’s FBI position.
“I don’t have any idea what you are talking about officer, not a clue,” Grister replied.
“You know that pretty little girl who used to do what, well, this young lady does today,” he said pointing to the girl behind the counter. “Who is this, your new little drug runner?”
Grister suddenly became angry. He tried to keep it in but it was obvious something Potenza had said, set him off. The gangster was good at keeping his cool but not this time. He moved a step forward toward Potenza before being held back by a police officer who could feel the metal blade inside Grister’s pant leg as they touched.
“No asshole, she’s my daughter and if you ever do anything to hurt her....” he stopped suddenly.
“Your daughter in the old family business, heh, well that’s ok, Georgie,” Potenza looked over at the girl. “I guess there is no chance she’ll meet the same fate as Jane Amy Summers then is there?”
Grister looked back at the officer with a questioning look in his eye as if he really didn’t know what he was talking about. He just stood there as if to say, “What the hell are your talking about?”
“I don’t know any Jane Amy Summers and I have no clue again officer as to what you are talking about,” Grister said relentlessly.
“Hey Jim,” Potenza directed his comment to his colleague. “This guy says he has no clue as to who Black Moon really was. He didn’t knowwww.”
Potenza was now mocking Grister, because maybe Grister didn’t know and if he found out they were searching for the gun he might really freak out. The detective decided to push the envelope.
“You really didn’t know Black Moon was Jane Amy Summers and you really didn’t know Jane Summers was a federal agent?” Potenza questioned.
A look of surprise and fear came over Grister and he put his head down. He really did not know she was an agent. Something was amiss here.
“FBI?” Grister asked.
“Yes,” Vincent answered immediately. “She’s dead now though.”
“And in case you are wondering what we’re looking for George, we’re looking for the weapon which killed her,” announced Potenza. “A gun, a very small gun.”
Slash now looked at Grister, but Grister knew better than to look back. He’d been here before. Don’t say or do anything which is out of the ordinary. Every move you make will be scrutinized by the police who are now looking for any straw in the grass to arrest you. Cops work with scum all day and all the time and they don’t trust anyone so why would they trust a noted gangster
“I didn’t know that at all,” Grister returned the quip.” So, what are you looking for here detective?”
“The murder weapon, nothing more, just the murder weapon,” was the sly answer from Vincent. “Oh, and a couple leather jackets.”
It was Slash who now carried a worried look on his face. The cops were looking for the missing link to the murder and he thought immediately what did they have on him? He was there and he knew he injected the girl. Were they looking for a needle, a syringe? What? He had disposed of the weapon long ago, what where they looking for?
“Yeh,” shot back Potenza, “we’re looking for a little tiny itty-bitty gun,” he again mocked Grister as he held up two fingers to show how little the derringer might be. “Just a little bitty thing.”
A short sigh of relief ran over Slash. It wasn’t him they were trying to tie to the killing of the girl, it was Grister. Grister was who they wanted, and it was Grister who now stood there anxiously cool but with a hint of worry in his eyes.
“Ring a bell now Georgie, does it?” Potenza rang as he moved face to face with Grister. “Listen George! I know it’s you and I’m going to prove it. You killed the girl, and you ordered the killing of Rodriguez and I’m going to nail you to the proper cross before it’s all over. You hear me, nail you dead.”
Vincent walked over to his partner and grabbed him by the arm. Potenza had let his anger get the best of him but for the first time he could also see the gang leader begin to crumble. It wasn’t much for he was too cool, too experienced for that, but he was starting to show those feet of his were made of clay. Clay eventually breaks apart and melds into nothingness. This is what Potenza had just put into motion.
“Nothing here L-T,” said the uniformed officer. “It’s not here.”
Vincent let go of Potenza’s arm counting on the detective to keep his cool with Grister. All three men knew now what was at stake. Grister knew they needed the gun to pin the murder on him. Potenza knew Grister was backed into a corner and Vincent understood where his partner’s boiling point was. He had realized every man has his breaking point, now he knew where Potenza’s was.
“All right, let’s go, book those jackets into evidence and let’s go,” Potenza ordered the officers.
Slash and Grister still did not know why the jackets were important to the killing; they had totally forgotten about the death of Rodriguez and were focusing on the FBI agent’s murder. Both men followed the police officers out the door as they left. The crowd across the street had now gathered to become a small mob. At least 20 people stood in front of the coffee shop, another 15 or so at the corner near the other squad car and a few near Potenza’s blue Corvette. They were harmless although a few motorcycle gang members were mixed in.
Grister looked over to one of them as to say, keep your cool, I’ll handle this, and the gangsters blended into the crowd. The cops didn’t notice the order from Grister. They were more concerned about getting out and moving on. The crowd was not hostile, nor should it be. Half of them were tourists, the other half locals who were just enjoying a sunny morning when the cops showed up in force. It was an event to talk about but what was it all about? Speculation ran rampant but the cops lived to fight another day and got half of what they wanted. They might have enough for the DA now, and the DA was going to get a call from Captain Stone later in the day. Chain of command was put into motion.