My Killer - a supernatural crime thriller - Novel by Gary Sherbell
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (US General American - GenAM)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
A half hour later, Frank Joel was strolling along the banks of the East River in a relatively deserted area. The ramped FDR drive above him, he was looking for a safe time and place to toss the incriminating gun in the river. One thing he didn't do now, which would have made him look suspicious, possibly justifying a legal police officers stop and frisk was hold on to the weapon as he walked along his hand in his jacket pocket. But one suspicious act was unavoidable. He had to frequently look over his shoulder this way and that way to make sure no one was watching when he finally do the toss good that he was trying to be careful for someone was watching a member of the group. He a former D A now needed to fear most at this moment in his life. A member of the NYPD, he heard from afar but not too far. A man barking. Hold it right there. Frank Joel stopped walking, turned and saw the NYPD or about 50 ft away slowly approaching him. The white thirtyish officer stopped a few feet from him. Frank Joel was careful to keep his hands at his sides the whole time. Nothing suspicious. Lowering his voice. Just a tad. The officer asked, what are you doing here? Frank Joel replied, calmly, trying not to seem confrontational. Just going for a walk so far. So good. If the officer had recognized him as the Marcus murder suspect from the recent bulletin, he wouldn't have asked that question. Wouldn't have needed to. Very possibly, he hadn't even seen the bulletin yet. Not good policing, but it happens. The officer next asked somewhat confrontational mind if I search you in just a few seconds. Two thoughts raced through Joel's mind first. He absolutely could not allow a search to take place. If the gun were found ballistics would undoubtedly prove it was the gun. The one used to kill Joel Marcus game set match. He wasn't about to count on some judge having the balls to toss the evidence on constitutional grounds. Not when the conviction of ad a murderer was at stake. Second, this officer for sure had never encountered a young Swedish African American male search target who actually knew the legal basis for his anti search rights. If he came across as one might, it just ***** the officer enough to make him think he'd better be careful with this one and back off it was a gambit worth taking. And in truth, he saw no other. Yes, I do. Frank Joel replied calmly that alone he knew would never stop the cop. But he went on and you have no probable cause for a nonconsensual search. Was that now enough to ***** him? Maybe but probably not. The officer getting a bit red in the face. Now said, do I got probable cause to punch you in the ******* mouth? Unf flapped Frank Joel replied, not under the fourth amendment to the United States constitution, sir. The officer paused as he considered his options. Finally, he sat in a lowered voice wise ass Joel thinking, hoping maybe he'd been spooked enough. The officer moved closer for a better look at Frank's face. Then he said, do I know you, you look familiar? Uh-oh Joel thinking perhaps some vague familiarity stemming from the bulletin, but he still didn't seem to be making the connection. Frank Joel said, I've never been arrested. The officer studied Frank for a long moment then said, right, keep on walking. The officer walked off away from the river while Frank Joel continued to walk along it. A short time later, he looked back and saw that the officer had turned a corner and was no longer in sight. He rarely removed the gun from his jacket pocket and threw it far into the river. Only then did he exhale.