Chapter 3:
a Deluge of Daily Insults
- Chapter 3: a Deluge of Daily Insults _ “Who’s Eating Harry Dick”_ crime caper short story - Copyright John Alan Conte Jr. mystrawhat.com & TheNewEverydayMedia.com
River boat captains and lamp lighters would be professions of the time adding to the bunches of factory workers and those on the many railroad yards. Coal powered the town’s glowing embers under the coarse dark blanketed sky - itchy to the lungs of asthmatics as an old damp wool blanket in a den of a home built in 1915.
The Cathedral of Learning on the campus of the University of Pittsburgh wasn’t built until 1926. Pitt Medical School was already well established by then having been chartered on June 4, 1883, as the Western Pennsylvania Medical College, the school opened with a class of 57 students in September 1886. By 1895 the college had begun a four-year course of study, and in 1908 the college was completely integrated into the Western University of Pennsylvania, the same year the university was renamed to the University of Pittsburgh.
Today in 2017 UPMC is a juggernaut eating competition with a voracious appetite. Pittsburgh-based health care giant UPMC left no doubts about its vast ambitions on Friday.
In announcing a $2 billion investment it said will usher in a new digitally- and technology-driven age in health care and solidify UPMC's place among the world's very best hospitals, its CEO said the system hopes to become the "Amazon of health care."
So the victim’s Pitt Medical School friend who came from a wealthy Japanese family. Yes, the father was a Japanese business man who was widely popular for his contribution to “Western Style Big Fun” in Tokyo - including providing business elites with the finest bourbon from the United States plus a complimentary straw hat for patrons who rock it out for karaoke.
It wouldn’t reflect well if one of Pitt’s Medical students was questioned about any of this and it wouldn’t reflect well on Mr. Isuzu Suzuki. Thus, he wasn’t even mentioned in the local news reports that morning.
The medical student, a young Mr. T.K. Suzuki, did have dinner with the victim, a young Mr. Angus Applebottom, at Muddy Waters Oysters Bar. But after dinner Angus headed to Brillo Box to see a band from Brooklyn called Sunflower Bean perform. Then he headed off to Spirit Lounge. There he was obviously visibly intoxicated. So much the bouncers tried to call him an Uber however Angus played a Houdini and disappeared into the energetic East End night.
“Worth noting,” Detective Bill Crawford told his colleagues Rusty Jones and Harry Dick, “he did try to hail a Yellow Cab at 2:45 a.m on Polish Hill after getting kicked out of Gooski’s! Yeah, the driver stated he wanted to go to The White Eagles on the South Side. The driver exercised some sort of judgement that Angus got angry about of course.” Bill Crawford was interrupted by Detective Rusty Jones, “you know what, that’s exactly how it came over the scanner.”
The police and the local TV reporters have a tremendous rapport with one another in Pittsburgh as in any other city where the scoop and investigative resources are similar and shared hand and hand. The message the public received didn’t mention Mr. T.K. Suzuki or Yellow Cab - just that he was last seen walking down Polish Hill visibly intoxicated or maybe injured a witness had said.
Detective Harry Dick stood out from the tailored tweedy bird twins as Harry nicknamed Bill Crawford and Rusty Jones. They looked like the Dandy’s who were found in the renovations taking place in the newest downtown revitalization plan. Looking like they’re headed The Hotel Monaco for drinks and dinner at The Commoner. Harry Dick laughed at their attempts to appear macho and thought them more of the Detective Friday types from that TV show his grandma & grandpa used to watch “The Streets of San Francisco.”
Harry Dick was more laid back and informal like his 70’s TV detective heroes Starsky & Hutch. He thought himself more of the salt of the earth type and therefore could fit in more with the suspects he sometimes found himself hunting. He was a hunter. He’s grew up in a farm house. And, even though he lived in the city to be employed as a city cop, he frequently visited his parents and brother out in that old farm house in Evan’s City.
The flannel shirt and chain wallet Harry Dick wore were not because he was honoring the celebrated “hipster” culture of the new Pittsburgh. If it wasn’t for Harry’s Sports Clips hair cut he might even pass for an aging hipster of 45. Well, he didn’t have a beard or mustache either though.
By dressing in flannel shirts and denim jeans with a chain wallet and concert tees, Harry Dick was doing what was natural to him as a Western Pennsylvania “hick in the sticks.” Someone who’s easily pictured as a regular in TGI Friday’s in nearby Wheeling, WV as insinuated by the tit-for-tat deluge of daily insults Rusty, Harry and Bill exchanged almost constantly when amongst themselves and sometimes even around other peers and the public. It was almost juvenile and yet endearingly funny like an Adam Sander’s movie.
“And the profile over the scanner of the crazy drunk preppy college guy without shoes trying to hail a cab on Polish Hill,” Harry Dick expounded, “that’s our Angus Applebottom?” Detectives Rusty Jones and Bill Crawford didn’t even reply taking Harry Dick as being rhetorical and not requiring an answer. They began walking to their cars.
It had been another long day and night and the team was tired. Harry, Rusty and Bill said goodnight and went off to their homes. Harry paused at his stoop before turning the key to the red brick working class home on Arsenal Place. Once Harry Dick has entered he’s relieved. He brushes up against the back of the kitchen chair as he reaches for a framed photograph.
The photo is of Harry and his first buck. Harry, his dad, his pap, his uncles and the first buck he killed himself after tracking it for weeks upon weeks. Harry was so proud. That’s also the first time he drank his own can of beer too! He recalls the Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.
“Ironic how those stupid hipsters at Arsenal Lanes drink Pabst Blue Ribbon pounders because it’s the cool thing to do now. Hell, that’s just what we drank,” he smugly told himself in a righteous tone of soliloquy. The autumn night was damp and cool yet unusually warmer than in past seasons. Harry Dick lay limp on the couch in front of the TV and fell asleep.
- Chapter 3: a Deluge of Daily Insults _ “Who’s Eating Harry Dick”_ crime caper short story - Copyright John Alan Conte Jr. mystrawhat.com & TheNewEverydayMedia.com
