Billy Luck: Episode 14 (part 1)

Street Sense Staff

Sergeant Phil Carlisle of the Metropolitan Police, First District, was a fairly warm and fuzzy sort, as Skipper could attest (they’d been real “buddies” back in Memphis when neither had that wedding band), UNLESS he was dealing with a ‘perp’ like the greenhorn drifter Billy Luck. Skipper was struggling outside the Astoria with her Buick Electra and its newly coughing engine. She jumped half a foot at the sight of old Phil wrestling with a slim figure, jacket over his head, stuffing “William Luck” into the back of a DC blue-and-white, complete with snarling K-9 in the back.
Carlisle pinched Skipper Marsh on one cheek and chuckled. “Just another bozo on the bus–we’re takin’ him down where he’ll be good and cozy!”
“So what’s the charge?” she sighed wearily. “Murder, I suppose? Isn’t that the usual Skid row M.O.?”
“Yep. This time it’s a tired floozie named Elaine. Too bad. He choked, or maybe poisoned her–right now not too sure, but this loser is going down, of that I’m sure!”
Skipper tried to push her way to the cruiser. “Hold on, Phil. Elaine–why that’s the gal my new friend BILLY was telling me that…”
Carlisle showed little concern as he drawled, “Come on, Skipper, It’s just a crime of
passion, without the passion involved. He’s just a common psycho, you know?”
Now Skipper got right in the muscular cop’s face. “It can’t be! Billy’s as gentle as–”
Carlisle jumped into the driver’s seat of his vehicle, braying, “Oh yeah? Well you’ll hafta follow me down to C Street, ’cause I’m booking him in myself!” Just at that moment the yellow shepherd snarled ferociously at Billy in the back. Out by the front curb to the hotel, Skipper stomped on the gas, slapped the dashboard, and shrieked in sheer frustration. First the radio sizzled to life, with Jeffrey Osborne and LTD begging, “If you’ll, uhh…jus’ staaaayyy.. with me…,” then the engine shuddered and came alive.
“Oh, Thank you, Jesus,” Skipper moaned, sounding like she entirely meant it.
At this very moment, a very drunken Senator Marsh was pouring Wanda the cub reporter into a Palm Grove Taxi, with her keeping him at arm’s length–outside the cab. “I–I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy the show, Wanda—”
“I never, why, it was a sleazy, disgusting display, Senator…Good night!”
The door slammed as the cab screeched away. Now Harris, rubbing his bandaged eye, nudged his boss, Senator Marsh, and cackled, “Nex’ time you better give her a preview, suh…” Marsh glared back at Harris, as…
Skipper pulled up and parked illegally in the cellblock drop, and dashed inside to the subterranean booking area of the downtown precinct headquarters. “Where’s Carlisle? And where is that poor kid Billy Luck?” she demanded shrilly.

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