Richard: It's In The Blood

RICHARD:

IT’S IN THE BLOOD

Linda Rae Blair

Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names, events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, dialog in this novel are either the products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Intersections – Love, Betrayal, Murder –The Chicago Trilogy

Where Is Harry?

Claire: A Woman’s Journey – NY Heiress ` Chicago Madam

Richard: It’s In The Blood

Copyright © 2009

Linda Rae Blair

All rights reserved.

Published by

Linda Rae Blair, Author at Smashwords

ISBN: 978-1-4581-1575-1

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: People in law enforcement play a large part in this portion of The Chicago Trilogy. I have nothing other than the highest regard for those in law enforcement, whether civil or military.

Historical information on police equipment and the availability of what were then the most modern of inventions can be rather daunting. Special thanks to Captain Paul Broxterman of the Cincinnati Police Academy and Sergeant Tom Waller, Board Member of the Greater Cincinnati Police Historical Society, for their assistance and guidance with their force’s historical information. The information they provided was adapted to the Hamilton force for this book. Any errors in this adaptation are entirely my own.

The Bureau of Investigation (now known as the FBI), the Secret Service, and the police forces of Cincinnati and Hamilton, Ohio, have my apologies for any artistic license taken with historical issues.

I may have twisted history just a wee bit…I hope you will forgive me. After all, that’s what fiction is all about! Any errors should be blamed on the author as artistic license.

To Jeremy Douglas Chappell and the men and women throughout our country who enforce the law. Whether you do this as members of our military, National Guard, or as members of civilian law enforcement, here’s to you! Without you, there would be no civilization as we know it.

Times and law enforcement have changed a lot in the last one-hundred years, but thankfully there were then, and are now, a lot of cops out there like Richard—good cops forced to deal with shifts between politicians, whether crooked or honest; administrations, some of which were more focused on their own interests than the welfare of their citizens; and their fellow cops, sometimes driven by greed or pressures from outside forces.

We should be very grateful that the good ones do their best every day to keep us safe from the bad guys. They enforce the law while caring for the underdog and digging deep for the patience and strength required to face all that our so-called modern society throws at them. And they choose to do so on a salary that should shame the rest of us. Whether or not the times are truly better is best judged by them.

Thanks also to the families that live with the daily concern for your safety. We care too!!

FORWARD: In response to requests from my fans, Richard’s story is, at last, being offered as a stand-alone novel.

When I first wrote Richard’s story, it was intended to be the final section (Murder) of Intersections: Love, Betrayal, Murder also called The Chicago Trilogy.

Because Where Is Harry (Love) and Claire: A Woman’s Journey - NY Heiress ` Chicago Madam (Betrayal) were published as stand-alone novels prior to the publishing of Intersections many of you had already purchased the first two novels and wanted to be able to complete the trilogy in that format.

Some of this novel will be familiar to you, as it contains Claire’s Chicago experiences from Richard’s point of view. So don’t skip anything. Men have a very different way of looking at things!

Well, I listened! Here is Richard’s story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

1

The Beginning—Hamilton

1908 – Hamilton, Ohio

The shots rang out and his blood flowed. His chest was on fire. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thought to himself. Someone had set him up, and he’d been warned but had refused to believe it.

Thinking of the woman he loved, he hoped she would find the strength to go on without him. Despite the problems that plagued their relationship, she would mourn him and mourn him hard. He resented not having more time with her. He knew he was dying. It wasn’t like they had often told him; he didn’t see any angels coming for him or see any light…yet he felt the life draining from him.

He only heard the horses and wagons and saw the lanterns and flashlights of his fellow officers rushing to his aid. It wouldn’t help; he knew that with a certainty that appalled him. How could he be so very alive with so much power rushing through him one minute and dying at the hands of a traitor the next?

The kids were both full grown now, but they would mourn. Oh, his sweet, little Millie; and that rascal, Richard…he found he was shaking from the cold now. How could that be? It’s mid-July and hot as a fire cracker, but he felt so very cold….

His partner was standing over him now—had grabbed his hand, but he didn’t hear or feel anything any longer.

Hang in there, Danny boy, Michael Williams shouted at him. Hang on! Danny! Danny?

Daniel Robert Martin was gone at age fifty-eight—killed in the line of duty. The beer would flow tonight, along with lots of stories about a good cop they had all loved and respected. Tomorrow they would start to really feel the loss. Tonight, numb with the shock of the sudden loss, they would drink to the memories of Officer Danny Martin—the best damned cop to walk a beat! Or was he?

2

Like Father Like Son

1886 – Hamilton, Ohio

It was a beautiful spring day. Annie had looked forward to spring with a thirst like a man walking across the desert. Sitting on the porch of their little frame house, she sat sipping on the soothing drink her mother-in-law had just brought out to her. As much as she sometimes resented this woman who everyone else thought was such a saint, she had to admit Clara had been very attentive in the last several months.

How are you feeling this afternoon, Annie? Clara asked her.

Like some kind of freak in a travelling circus, Annie pouted with an expression those who knew her saw all too often. My back is aching so bad that sitting in this rocker is just about all I can do. I’ll be so glad when they finally get here, she sighed.

Tsk, tsk, Annie! You are carrying such a precious gift and, once they are here, you will very soon forget all the discomforts. You mark my words, Clara laughed quietly. She had had problems getting close to Annabelle after her son, Danny, married her. The girl was a sensitive child and perhaps more selfish than one would hope, but Danny loved her and that made her family.

Clara recognized just how uncomfortable the poor girl was. She had carried a similar pair many years ago. Alright, she knew she had fibbed to Annie. She would likely never forget how uncomfortable she was at this moment, but hopefully she would not also suffer the memory of losing one of them before she could even hold it in her arms. It was a pain that Clara had never forgotten, not in the twenty-six years since the births of Danny and Alexander. Clara shook her head to clear the painful memory and went back into the house to check on her precious little granddaughter, Millie.

Annie’s body was so swollen with the twins she carried that she could hardly move. Her petite five-feet-two-inch frame was now handling the load of one-hundred-sixty pounds. Her heart raced every time she walked to the kitchen or out to the privy.

About three weeks ago she’d given up on the privy completely, now counting on Danny to empty the privy pot for her on a regular basis. She felt absolutely humiliated, but he assured her with a kiss and a gentle pat that he didn’t mind taking care of her and their babes.

If it hadn’t been for her mother-in-law helping out with Millie, Annie somewhat resentfully realized that she may not have been able to handle carrying the twins at all. They’d never really gotten along, but Clara Millicent Williams had put aside any differences they had had over the years. She had cooked meals, washed and ironed clothes for the entire family. She had also mothered three-year-old Millie as well as she herself could have.

Policemen didn’t make much money, so they didn’t have a very large house. Despite its size, it had a lovely parlor with a fireplace, and a kitchen that comfortably held their table and four chairs, the small ice chest, and the wood burning stove. They had electric lights, but didn’t use them any more than necessary. Annie preferred candle and lantern light which she thought made her face continue looking younger than its years. Somehow she didn’t like the way the electric lighting made her look. Danny assured her that she was beautiful to him in any light. But with the load she was carrying at present, anything that improved her image of herself was welcome.

They had three decent sized bedrooms on the second floor of the little house and were pleased that the twins would be able to have their own room. She didn’t want Millie to have to share her room, unless it became absolutely necessary. If the twins turned out to be one boy and one girl, they may have to rethink that later, but for now she would just be happy when they got here!

Annie was snapped out of her reverie by the view of her approaching husband, Danny, and father-in-law, Dan Sr., riding up on their horses. Both men were so striking in their dark blue police uniforms with their brass buttons, badges complete with the whistle-anchoring chain on their left breasts; the whistles tucked into the pockets inside their jackets. Then there were the tall-crowned hats complete with white metal wreaths on their heads.

Two peas in a pod, she thought! Both of them were tall—about six-feet-two-inches or so—both on the thin side and both had the look of a tough, streetwise cop. Even out of those uniforms, it didn’t take much to spot them as policemen. In the uniforms, they were a ruggedly handsome pair; one just a little grayer than the other. With their brown hair, bushy mustaches, and big brown eyes, if they had been closer to the same age, she thought, one might mistake them for brothers. Despite their problems in the past, she was glad one of them was hers.

Hello there, beautiful, Danny said as he removed his hat and bent down to kiss the top of her head. How’s my wife today? Feeling any better? he asked.

No, but I suppose I’m not going to feel any better now until these two are born. She tried to smile for him as she shifted uncomfortably in the rocking chair, but it really didn’t reach her eyes. She was just too tired. Thank God it wasn’t summer!

Hi, Annie girl, her father-in-law said, also bending down to kiss her. Bless your little heart, I sure wish they would come soon; for your sake.

Well, I don’t think it will be long now. My back has been killing me for days now, she replied as she once again shifted in the rocker. I’ve been especially uncomfortable today.

Clara, dear. Dan Sr. greeted his wife with a kiss when she walked out the front door onto the wraparound porch carrying little Millie. And how is Grandpa’s beautiful little girl doing today? he kissed Millie.

Gapa! Gapa! Millie shouted as she raised her arms waiting to be lifted into her Grandpa’s waiting embrace.

The whole group chuckled at the welcome Grandpa always received from Millie. She was indeed Grandpa’s girl.

How was your day, dear? Clara asked her husband. Quiet, I hope! She never really voiced the concerns she had over his job and its inherent dangers.

Well, it could have been quieter. That drunken fool, young Patrick Mulroney, darned near cut his arm off at the paper mill today. He swore Billy Sullivan pushed him into the equipment and the mill manager called us out. Darned fool’s lucky he’s still alive. A few more beers for breakfast and that silly sot would be dead as a doornail! Dan fumed. I’m just glad he wasn’t armed. That idiot Billy’d probably be in the hospital too!

Watch your language, Gapa, Clara whispered. The walls have ears, she said to him while tilting her head toward Millie. Like most three-year-olds, Millie repeated everything she heard and usually in the middle of Sunday morning church services. Wazza idit, Gapa? Millie asked.

Now you’ve gone and done it, Dan Martin! Clara stormed into the house to check on her dinner.

Dan and Danny laughed until their sides hurt.

Annie was trying desperately to keep a straight face. You’ll both be laughing out the other side of your faces if Reverend Hooper gets that question next Sunday.

With that, the three of them broke out into near hysterical laughter. Suddenly Annie grabbed the arm of the rocking chair and held on for dear life.

Annie, honey! You okay? Danny asked. He bent down in front of her and tried to hold her hand, but it was still white-knuckled on the arm of the chair.

Danny, it’s started. The babies are coming, she grimaced.

Everyone went into action. Dan Sr. took Millie into the house to Clara, told her what was going on and left to fetch the doctor. Danny helped Annie into the house. The stairwell to the second floor was too steep and narrow for him to carry her upstairs, so they just took a couple of stairs at a time—between contractions—and finally they reached their bedroom.

Danny helped Annie undress and get into one of her cotton gowns. Then he gently helped lower her into the bed. Soon he had nothing to do but sit and hold her hand or pace. About forty minutes later Dan arrived with the doctor, and the two Martin men were sent downstairs to keep an eye on Millie while Clara helped with the delivery.

They had been ready for the twins’ arrival for weeks. There were plenty of blankets for the babies, extra sheets, towels, and a fresh gown for Annie. Then there were the two little cradles made by Dan Sr. for their own twins—lovingly saved for the last twenty-six years, as if they were made of gold.

Four hours later, Daniel Randolph Martin and Richard Alexander Martin came into the world screaming and kicking. While the doctor took care of Annie, Clara bathed and swaddled each of the little twins. She had counted all the fingers and toes and had reported their completeness to a tired, but gloriously happy Annie. After their first nursing, Clara put the babes into their cradles and called in the proud Daddy and Gapa.

The men stood there looking down at those sweet little faces, and Danny rushed over to his wife, "Oh, Annie, they are absolutely perfect—and identical. He laughed and added, How will we ever tell who is who? He bent down to kiss his wife. Annie, how can I possibly tell you how much I love you?" he whispered.

Danny, I think that’s how they got here in the first place, she snickered very quietly into his ear. It was amazing that she could feel so much better already, when the babies were only minutes old.

Dan Sr. held Clara to his side and looked down at the wriggling babies wrapped tight in their soft blankets. Each had a tuft of dark hair and big black eyes with just a hint of blue that would disappear in the next week or two. Well done, Annie! Well done, the proud new grandfather said. Then he realized that Clara was quietly weeping at the sight of the two precious babies in the cradles so lovingly crafted by him all those years ago. We’ll go downstairs and give you two some privacy, he said as he gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder and took her downstairs.

It’s going to be hard for your mother and father, isn’t it? Annie asked her husband. She even surprised herself. Annie Martin seldom put any thought into the feelings of others, except for Danny and Millie. But the loss of a child…well, that