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St. Nick's Outlaws

By Jim Colombo


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Copyright 2001 Jim Colombo


 Chapter 66



            It was Sunday evening about seven-thirty and Foxie and C.J. were typing reports


because they had rounded up Hercules and his stable of fillies.  The whores would spend


the night and get a fine. Hercules would be arraigned in the morning and charged with


pandering and pimping.   Foxie and C.J had about two more hours of typing when the


phone rang.  “Hey, Foxie, it’s Mary the Mouse.  Her husband Stanley is drunk and he’s


threatening to shoot her.”


            “Shit, God damn it.  Every fucking week he gets drunk and wants to kill someone.  I


got a shit load of typing to do, Kenny.”


            “She says she wants you to go.  Stanley will listen to you.”


            “Last time the gun was empty and I took it.  How the hell did he get another gun? 


I gotta finish this shit tonight.  You and the rookie go instead.”


            “Sure, Foxie.”  Kenny had spent a couple of years at Precinct Ten, whereas  Dan


Hanson was the rookie.  He had finished his first week as a cop after graduating from the


Police Academy and had spent four years in the Marines.  Two of those years were in


in Vietnam with Special Ops.  Hanson told Foxie, “The Tenderloin will be a stroll in the park


compared to the V.C. tunnels I’ve raided.”  Kenny and the rookie left to settle down


Stanley.  Foxie and C.J. continued typing their reports with two-finger speed.


            Kenny and the rookie arrived at Mary’s place on the third floor of the Jackson Hotel,


a flophouse on Fell Street.  The Policemen approached the door and knocked. The


numbers had been stolen, leaving a faded outline of three, one, three that was barely


discernable.  Mary yelled,” He’s gotta gun.”  Then she screamed.  The rookie opened the


door.  Bang, bang. Two bullets tore holes in his chest and he fell back laying in the


doorway with his hands and feet twitching.  Kenny drew his gun and peeked into the room. 


and saw Stanley standing with a gun.  He yelled, “Put the gun down!”  Silence.  The rookie


was bleeding and Kenny had to do something, so he ran into the room and startled


Stanley.  “Put the gun down.  Now!”


Stanley was drunk and looked shocked to see Kenny pointing his gun at him. He


raised his gun defensively without thought.  Kenny had a split second to react.  He fired


one shot at Stanley.  Mary screamed and pointed. “He ran out the window.  He ran out the


window.  Stanley didn’t shot the cop,”  she yelled with tears running down her checks.


            “Who’s the other guy?” asked Kenny. 


            “The guy who paid us fifty bucks to scare Foxie,” said Mary.


            Kenny called for an ambulance. Stanley was shot in the abdomen and was going


into shock.  Mary was holding Stanley’s hand and began to pray.  Kenny looked out of the


open window in the bedroom of the apartment and saw a slender man jump from the fire


escape and run down the alley towards a green Buick.  The car was too far away to get a


license plate number.  Kenny went back to the rookie and tried to find a pulse.  The rookie


had a blank stair in his glassy eyes.  He was dead, so Kenny covered his face with the


rookie's hat .  Kenny waited for the ambulance to arrive.  Kenny suppressed his feelings of


remorse and was numb thinking that could be him.  He had shot Stanley and hoped that


Stanley wouldn’t die.  It wasn’t fair.  He and the rookie only had a moment to react to a


situation that flashed by.


The call came to the station.  “Christ, they shot the rookie at Mary’s flat.”  Foxie and


C.J. stopped typing and responded to the call.  When they arrived Kenny was in the


bathroom splashing cold water on his pale face after he had thrown up in the sink. Foxie


looked at the dead rookie and thought to himself, “That could have been me.”  A Chinaman


had paid Mary and Stanley fifty bucks to call Foxie and have him come to their place. 


They thought that the Chinaman would scare Foxie and tell him to back off from Shin Wu. 


They didn’t understand that it was a set up.  Foxie wanted to slowly kill Shin Wu

Cantonese style. The Chinese had 4,000 years to refine torture and prolong the agony.


They would chop off a limb and use hot tar to cauterize the stump. Then the next limb and


more hot tar and watch the victim beg for death. If the victim was still alive after losing his


limbs, he was thrown overboard for the sharks.






It was Monday, five in the morning when Foxie, C.J., and Kenny approached the


dark alley.  Foxie turned off the police car lights and slowly entered the dark alley.  Two


squad cars followed closely.  A green Lincoln and a blue Buick were parked by the Jade


Palace red neon sign .  If Benny was right, Shin should be spaced out on snow and


wrapped in lust with young Chinese whores.  Kenny recognized the green Buick,  "That's


the mother fucker." Two squad cars were in front of the Jade Place and were in radio


contact with the cars in the alley.  Foxie, C.J., Kenny and four other policeman approached


the backdoor of the restaurant.  Foxie said, “There should be two maybe three,


bodyguards and Shin.  They’ve been drinking and snorting cocaine.  Don’t take any


chances.  When they snort that shit, they get fuckin’ crazy.  If you have to shoot, blow his


fuckin’ head off.  This is Chinatown and there ain't no rules.”


 “I want the fucker who killed the rookie,“ said Kenny.


C.J. used a crowbar to break away the door from the frame.  Foxie was using his 45 


with a silencer and hollow point bullets.  Typically he used a 38 caliber, but this wasn't


typical, this was Chinatown.   Foxie was hoping that Shin and the bodyguards were asleep. 


They walked through the dark kitchen and into the dinning area.  Two bodyguards were


sleeping on a sofa by the stairway to the second floor.  C.J. stumbled into a chair and


woke up the husky man who squinted to see what the noise was.  C.J. turned and saw the


slender bodyguard taking his gun out and aiming it at him.  Two dull thumps from Foxie’s


gun eliminated the problem.  The dead man sat with his eyes wide open looking surprised


with two dumb-dumb bullets in his heart.  “Thanks, Foxie,” said C.J. C.J. put his shotgun in


the face of the husky bodyguard and asked,” Tired of living, asshole?”  The bodyguard saw


his dead friend and three cops with mean intentions.  He shook his head. 


“How many more?” asked C.J.


The Chinaman raised one finger and looked upstairs.


“Who owns the Buick?” asked Kenny.


The Chinaman’s eyes looked upstairs again.


C.J. put is shotgun on the husky bodyguards crotch  “Be cool, motherfucker.”  


The cops who had entered from the front joined Foxie, C. J., and Kenny.  Two cops


cuffed the husky bodyguard and walked him to a squad car.  Kenny wanted the Buick and


up the stairs.  Foxie and C.J. followed with two other cops.  The slender bodyguard was


sitting on a chair and looked asleep.  Kenny turned to Foxie and motioned with his gun that


this was the guy he had seen at Mary’s flat.  Suddenly the man opened his eyes and was


taking a gun out of his coat.  “Kenny, he’s got a gun,” said Foxie. Kenny turned and saw


the barrel of the gun raising towards him and had a split second to react.  He squeezed the


trigger twice without thought.   Black powder burns scorched the man’s white shirt and his


body bounced against the wall twice, then slumped over and fell to the floor. “That’s for


Dan, you fucking piece of shit.”  


            The element of surprise was gone, so Foxie and C.J. kicked in the door and caught


a dazed and naked Shin Wu sitting up in bed trying to figure out what had happened.  The


two Chinese whores covered themselves with the silk sheets.  One whore screamed when


she saw C.J.  “Shut the fuck up,” said C.J. 


Benny had given Foxie good information and the cops found the backroom behind


the kitchen pantry that had records of transactions for numbers, drugs, and prostitution. 


Plastic bags of cocaine and heroin were found on shelves in a hidden closet behind a


refrigerator that was on wheels. The two whores were told to get dressed and take off.


Benny had gift wrapped Shin who ran most of the prostitution and gambling in Chinatown.  


Shin got dressed and was handcuffed. He starred at Foxie, and said,  "You're a lucky son


of a bitch.  Someday it will run out.  I hope I live long enough to piss on your grave." 


            "It ain't luck.  You're just another dumb bastard who thought that he was smarter


than me." 


The coroner was called to bag and tag the two dead bodyguards.  One of the


forensic officers gave Kenny the set of Buick keys he found in the slender bodyguard's


pocket.  Kenny squeezed he keys in his hand and some of the hurt and tragedy of the


previous day was avenged.  Foxie put his arm around Kenny.  “You done good,


Kenny.  Now the rookie can rest in peace.”


            “I wanted to cut his fucking heart out and see the look of pain in his eyes.”


“I know how you feel.  Killing these bastards ain’t enough.”





A few hours later the sun was rising and shimmering on the water.  Georgie was


waiting by his boat for Benny to arrive to take him to Mexico for $200.  Georgie had


enough fuel and food for a roundtrip.  A yellow cab drove up to the dock and Benny got out


and paid the cabby.  He walked to the boat and waved at Georgie.  Tomorrow he would be


in Mexico with a new life.  Benny had killed the two bag men when they left the


whorehouse at 2:00 AM this morning. He jumped on board, and saw Georgie at the bow. 


“Hey, Georgie, we ready?”


            “Yeah, Benny we’re ready,” said Foxie.


            Benny looked shocked, ”What the hell you’s doing here?”


            Foxie walked out from the wheelhouse with C.J.  “Well, I’ll tell ya. You figured I’d


be dead.  You figured that you’d sail to Mexico with that bag you got.  What’s in the bag,




            “Just clothes.”


            “Let’s take a look.”  Foxie took the bag and opened it.  “Gee, Benny, it looks like


money. Maybe Shin’s two dead bagmen.”


            “I’ll give you half, Foxie.  It’s ten grand,”


            “I want it all, Benny.”


            “Okay, just let me go to Mexico.”


            “I can’t do that Benny.  You’re too dirty.  You tried to set me up.”


”No, I didn't.  We had a deal.”


“I’ve had Tommy the Dink and Spook Williams tailin’ ya.  Georgie, did ya know


that Benny was going to dust ya when ya got to Mexico and sell your boat?”


“You son of a bitch.” C.J. grabbed Georgie.


“Benny, ya should have never talked to Rita about your plans.  She ain’t going


to Mexico either.  We nabbed her at the bus depot.”  Foxie opened the bag, counted


$200, and gave it to Georgie.  “We’re square now, Georgie.”  Foxie turned to Benny, “Oh,


by the way, you don’t mind sharing the same holding cell with Shin, do you?”


“Fuck you, Foxie.”


“I bet you’d like to.  Just think, Benny, in the joint you can be the house nigger and


get fucked every night.” 


Foxie and C.J. drove Benny to the precinct for booking.  When they finished their


paperwork,  they drove to the Hibernia Bank to deposit the ten grand that they had taken


from Benny into their safe deposit boxes.  Like Foxie always said, “Ain’t no crime stealin’


from a thief.”  When they were finished at the bank, they drove to Fisherman’s Wharf for


lunch.  Foxie was in the mood for a crab Louie salad at Scoma’s.  C.J. liked the clam


chowder.  They sat by the window and watched the fishermen tending their nets and the


seagulls were feasting on crab shells and fish heads. 


            “I got a call from Kenny.  He said that Stanley is out of surgery and doing okay.  I


sure feel sorry for Hanson’s young wife.  He’s being laid to rest at Fitzpatrick’s,” said




            “I’m getting too old for this shit, Foxie.  That could a been one of us last night.”


            “I hear ya, C.J.”


            They enjoyed lunch and had a glass of white wine.  Then they went for a walk along


the wharf.  Shin Wu was out of business and would be locked up for a long time. Some


young stud would fill the void, as Shin had filled the void when Chen Wang got shut down. 


Benny was a lifer in the joint and wouldn’t have to worry about retirement.  Hanson’s wife


would get a full pension, but that wouldn’t fill the lonely nights.  There were goods days like


nailing Shin, and there were bad days like losing the rookie.  The bad days outnumbered


the good days.  Most of the time they wallowed in the muck.  Someone had to be the


gatekeeper.  Someone had to patrol the jungle.  Foxie and C.J. had learned from Slippery


Jack, who once said, “No one gives a damn about the Tenderloin or the people who live


and die in this shit hole.”  No one in the bottom world would rat on a cop because that


would be a ticket to the joint.  Foxie and C.J.’s beat was the prime slice of the golden cow. 


It was the juicy piece of the city for cops who could look the other way.  That’s why they


called it the Tenderloin. 





Monday after lunch Brother Justin announced over the public address system


that the presentation of the Mahoney trophy would be cancelled because of Dan Hanson,


a former alumnus, who had graduated from St. Nick’s four years ago had been shot in the


line of duty. Brother Justin and the student body council had agreed that it wouldn’t be right


to celebrate the Mahoney trophy at this time.  The trophy was placed in the glass cabinet


by the administration office for all to see.  Duke said that in two weeks the school could


celebrate a baseball championship and the Mahoney trophy.  Brother Justin had contacted


Father Lahey, the President of Saint Ignatius, and requested that St. Ignatius Cathedral be


used for Dan Hanson’s funeral.  Since St. Mary’s had burned, the only remaining cathedral


in the city was St. Ignatius.  Father Lahey agreed.  It was the first time a St. Nick’s funeral


was held on Jesuit Hill. 


            The police departments from the Bay Area sent representatives to pay their


respects to Officer Hanson.  All of the Policemen wore white gloves and a man wore a kilt


and played the bagpipes and led the six pallbearers, followed by Mrs. Hanson, her


parents, and Dan Hanson’s parents. The policemen and the student body from St. Nick’s


followed.  Jim sat with Augie and Duke.  The students had never seen the inside of Saint


Ignatius Cathedral before. Augie described it as being in the Twilight Zone.  The Jesuits


were very hospitable.  Mass ended and the procession slowly left the church.  The hearse


was escorted by police on motorcycles to Holy Cross cemetery in Colma. Policemen on


motorcycles and in squad cars followed the Funeral procession.  After the mass the


students were dismissed and went home.   




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