The Pastor’s Daughter: Episode XXXII

As his arm tightened on my throat, cutting the air from my lungs, I realized that my attacker, who was probably the one they called Michael, was stronger than I was. Already my lungs felt as if they were bursting and I was fighting for breath. Since he was bending me back, with his knee grinding into my spine, I couldn’t get at him. I told myself that the only way out of a hold like this is to pretend to pretend to loose consciousness, and that was exactly what I did: I let myself go limp, allowing my legs to buckle and collapsing on my knees. Doing that allowed me to arch my back and bring him forward.

He cursed and then viciously tightened his grip on my throat. I made a desperate effort to heave him over my head but that didn’t work at all because he was too heavy for me. So rather than heaving him over my head as I tried to do, my effort only unbalanced us both and together we rolled into the sea.

The shock of landing in the water loosened his hold on my throat. Moving very fast, I caught hold of his wrist and peeled his arm off my throat. And, fighting like a mad dog, I twisted around so that I faced him and then I drove my hand under his chin. This blow sent him over on his back, and I broke free of him and rose to the surface, gasping for air.

The only thing that worried me then was that he may shout for help. It would be to dangerous for me if he does that. It was very important to prevent him from letting those at the vacation house  know I had been up there, at all cost. So I waited for him to come up. Soon he bubbled up within a few yards of me. I had a better advantage here because I saw him before he could shake the water out of his eyes. Without wasting any time, I dived under him and, holding one of his legs, I dragged him down the water.

He kicked so violently that I had to let go of his leg. We both came to the surface together and I could just see his snarling mouth as he came at me and lifted his right hand out of the water. I saw a flash of steel and knew immediately what he planned to do to me. So, I threw myself sideways, and his knife blade missed me by inches. I dived, and when I came to the surface  again I saw the dark form of his body within reach. This is my moment, I said to myself. I grabbed him around his waist, pulling him under the water again. My left hand groped and found his right wrist.

He fought like a headless chicken, and it was so difficult for me to hold him. Anyway, I held him down the water as long as I could, but then I had some limitations too. When it started to feel as if my lungs were at bursting point, I let go of him and swarm up to the surface. He didn’t break the surface of the water immediately – it took him almost seven seconds to surface. But when he did show up, I could see by his feeble strokes that he doesn’t have much energy in him. He had lost his knife and, I believe, he must be very scared of me too. He tried to get away from me and gave a croaking shout. But I’m not gonna let that happen, not after all these troubles. So I sprinted after him. I caught up with him in, say, four seconds and, putting my hand between his shoulders, I shoved him under the water again. I dived after him, grabbed his right leg and held him down. By now he was offering practically no resistance. And when we came to the surface again he was done. As a matter of fact, he would have sunk if I hadn’t grabbed him by his collar and held him up. You piece of shit, I thought, as  I towed him towards the rowing boat that was moored only a few yards from where we were.

On reaching the boat, I heaved him in, nearly upsetting the boat as I did so. I got in after him and knelt beside him. I wasn’t too surprised I was able to tackle him in water. Swimming is one of the few things I was very good at. So I knew he won’t be a match for me once we were in the water. He seemed to be in a bad state though. I rolled him over on his face so that the water he had swallowed could drain out of him. Then I proceeded to untie the mooring line. After I did that, I got the oars out and began to row as fast as I could towards the lights of the center of Atlantic City.

After about fifteen minutes, I could not see the lights of the vacation house anymore. I was sure  I must have gone half-way. Then  Michael stirred and started mumbling. I told myself I wasn’t going to give him a chance to recover. To fight with him in this small boat will be too bad for me. I won’t have a chance. I reached him as he slowly hauled himself into a sitting position. As he lifted his head, he made his chin a perfect target for him. I hit him on the point of his jaw with all the energy in me. I hit him so hard that the blow took the skin off my knuckles. He fell backwards as if he had been shot. His head hit the bottom of the boat and he went limp.

Rushing back to the oars, I began to row again. As I reached the Atlantic City harbor, I noticed that he had started moving again. I also saw that my boatman was waiting for me. I saw his eyes widen when he saw I wasn’t in his boat. Ignoring him, I caught hold of Michael and heaved him on to the beach. This move brought Michael around and he slowly hauled himself upright. Without giving him the chance to balance well, I stepped up to him and hit him very hard on his jaw. The force of my blow sent him flat on his back at the boatman’s feet.

“Call the police, will you?” I said. “Don’t worry about your boat. You will be taken care of. Just get a policeman fast!”

A policeman came up. I guess he must have been standing in the shadows on the car park. God will bless the soul of this policeman, I said to myself. He didn’t argue as most policemen usually do. He listened attentively as I explained the situation to him. Vito Roselli’s name seemed to mean something to him. He told the boatman to hold his mouth, and then put handcuffs on Michael. Next, he requisitioned a car and drove Michael and I to the police station.

That night was indeed my night because Lieutenant Reid was still on duty. He looked bored as I came into his office, naked except for a pair of swimming trunks. But he came alive when I told him I had found Vito Roselli and had got one of Vito’s men.

I told him there was a consignment of heroine at the vacation house and that he would have all the evidence he needed for an arrest if he moved fast. He got on the telephone to the Atlantic City headquarters of The DEA and had a quick talk with the head of the agency. He got orders to go ahead and raid the vacation house.

As he made for the door, I said to him: “Be careful lieutenant. There’s five men in the vacation house, and I’m sure they are armed, tough and very dangerous.”

He gave me a sour smile.

“I am armed and dangerous too.”

He went out and I heard him barking orders. Soon, another policeman came in and showed me where I could have a hot shower. He also gave me a pair of casual trousers and a sweater.

By the time I was dressed, Lieutenant Reid had gone down to the beach where he was to await reinforcements from the Atlantic City police headquarters and, perhaps, the DEA guys. I decided I would have time to telephone Phorbus Taylor before the raid began.

I got Phorbus Taylor on the line. I told him that within an hour Vito Roselli would be arrested, and warned him to stand by for details.

Phorbus said he would warn our Trenton office what was coming, and would wait for me to call back.

I then took a cab down to the harbor.

Lieutenant Reid with thirty policemen, armed to the teeth, were piling into three speedboats. When I suggested I should go with them, he waved me away, saying it will be too risky for me.

Soon Lieutenant Reid and his men went roaring off into the darkness, leaving me with my boatman who, by now, is basically going crazy and yelling for his boat. I told him I would show him where I had left it if he could find a speed boat to take us there. That seemed to calm him down; and he persuaded one of his colleagues to take us, and we set off.

By the time we had picked up the rowing boat from the beach where I had left it, Lieutenant Reid and his men had landed at Vito Roselli’s vacation house. I kept my ears pricked for the sound of shooting, but to my greatest surprise, I heard nothing.

With great difficulty, I persuaded the boatman to hang around just outside Vito Roselli’s harbor. By now the moon had come up, so the three police boats were very visible in the harbor.

After waiting for about twenty minutes, I saw a bunch of men come along the harbor wall and get into the boats. With them was a girl and I guessed it was Grace Roselli.

I told the boatman to get back to the city center, and was waiting on the beach when Lieutenant Reid and his men and prisoners landed. Surprisingly, I saw the he had got them all.

While Lieutenant Reid and his men hustled them into the waiting police van, I crossed over to where he was standing.

“You got the consignment of drugs, I believed?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Any trouble from them?”

He shook his head.

“We did not give them the chance to make trouble.”

“Please, keep me out of this. I’ve got to get back to Middle River right away. I don’t think you will need me. Or, will you?”

“No. However, it is important for you to attend the inquest next Monday.”

“I will,” I replied.

After I said that, I left him, got into my car and drove back to my hotel. I called Phorbus Taylor and gave him the details of Vito Roselli’s arrest. I told him to let Leifert Green of The Baltimore Sun have the story too. He said he will get a cable off to our Trenton office right away and then call Leifert Green.

“I will be in Middle River tonight,” I said. “So I’ll see you in the morning.”

He asked if I didn’t think I should stay on in Atlantic City and cover the case when Vito Roselli come up in court. He was right, of course. However, I had councilman McCutchen on my mind. I didn’t know how councilman McCutchen was going to react when he heard that his father, Vito Roselli, had been arrested and that the consignment of drugs he was waiting for had been seized. It is very important that I convince him      I had nothing to do with it or he will reach for my throat.

“Well, he won’t come before a court fo a couple of days,” I said. “Besides, I’ve things to do in Middle River.”

“Alright then,” he said. “I’ll be seeing you.”

END OF EPISODE XXXII

P.S. Episode Thirty-Three  will be published here next Monday.