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Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6 Sex-Murder or Something Else
Date: Wed, 26 Jul 2000 06:10:03 -0400
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From TxM6 Taxi Murders Sextet Hyperfiction Novel
http://www.taximurders.com/
TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only.
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher
0829xaHannah.htm
Hannah Kay Coffield: DOB: 8/11/1974; DOD: 11/4/1990
"FALSE LEADS AFTER MURDER: JOSH WHO WALKED ON WATER"
"Taken somewhere off the street by some sweet man she was
fucking for love, for god's sake. Haven't seen her for weeks,
. . . what the fuck you cops want, when she was alive all you
did is stick your dicks in deeper, and generally kick her
when she was fucked up. She's fucken dead. Can You bring her
back?"
That's what Rae, 19, a known George Washington Bridge street
hustler, and the "skinny bomb shell" as she called herself,
told the cops when they questioned her about her dead friend,
Hannah Coffield whose body had finally turned up, ending
another missing person saga in the usual way, at the morgue.
Discovered in the unlocked rest room of a closed Hess gas
station by a man walking his dog, Hannah had been missing two
months.
"I couldn't believe my eyes the aged shoeless man (who lived
near the gas station) said, "my shepherd brought back a
girl's head like she did a bone. "I saw bad things in my day
-- but nothing like this."
The police had suspected that Hannah had been murdered by
Hannah's and Rae's pimp, an old white rocker and biker name
Josh who liked to pretend he was Jesus walking on water. He
would feed teenagers acid and cocaine. Gathering them about
him, they became witnesses for his biblical tricks.
Girl named "marigold (small "m" it said in police report)
told the cops, "he brings girls he meets at rock concerts, or
in the parks, up to the Hackensack Reservoir in Dumont.
Told us he wanted to go skinny dipping. What the fuck, I
thought. Shit, ain't no virgin, and I like to party, and he
had great shit, and I even like girls, but when we got there,
he gave us some real hard shit, dope that made you puke as
well as almost come. You know he really danced on the water.
Shit I was in love, and then I fell down a steep incline, and
was so out of it, they left me there for the cops to find.
Why did they forsake me? God, I never wanted to leave. I
thought I was in Eden and my name was marigold and I was the
little girl that Adam always wanted, and shit, why not, as
Adam was the only man, he would have to fuck me too. It was a
detailed and nasty report.
Continuing, marigold said, still showing her lost eyes and
drugged mania, the report concluded. "Then again, my daddy
did all the girls in the family anyway. I was the youngest.
When he died in that car accident, he had three kids who were
children of his kids. I had one too when I was 14. I wanted
Josh to be my father. I really did."
The report described marigold as constantly smiling and
crying at the same time. In the middle of her dictation, the
interviewer added, she said, "Shit now I remember, he said he
was protected by the Mafia. Even I know that is crap. Is it?"
Josh always seemed to get away with the most outlandish
antics. Cops didn't know what to make of him. Not an ordinary
pimp the cops hate anyone who doesn't measure up to
expectations. A man can be a murderer but if he seems
typical, the cops leave him alone. Be out of the ordinary
like Josh and they beat the shit out of you and look to find
something, anything to pin on you. Dicks feed on
vulnerability.
Listening to Josh you would have thought he would have been a
troubadour in one age and not the failed rocker and pimp of
today.
He'd seduced the runaway girls with booze, grass, dope and
coke. He gave them what they were denied at home by over
protective or abusive parents. When they were thoroughly
cooked on crap, fucking like bunnies, he would sell their
asses and beat the shit out of them just like the usual creep
. The fact that he is white gave him another inverted
reputation. Some also say he had a cock that would kill a
horse. That was obvious bull shit one dissatisfied girl
reported to the cops for trying to cop dope in the Heights.
Girl with the street name Melody said Josh couldn't get it up
unless he was beating one of us up. "I got sick of it," she
said. "My dad did the same thing. Beat and fuck me. Why do I
need more shit? I can go home and at least eat and sleep half
the time. Only have to fuck my father when he is drunk."
New York State Police arrested Josh last year for fucking
around with a thirteen year old girl he had met at a rest
stop on the turnpike. Cops pulled him over for speeding in
his Porsche, just minutes after he had picked the eager child
up. Police thought they had him, but it turned out the
runaway story was true, and they had no grounds. Josh told
them the girl took her underpants off, I didn't. "She said
she had to pee and I was pulling off to the side of the
road."
The girl told the cops she was OK and he had not done
anything.
There were many stories about "Prince Josh" as he was called.
All were shit unless proven otherwise. As one detective put
it, "He's a user of kids and they know it too.
As it turned out Josh did not murder or kidnap Hannah
Coffield. A dead end is sometimes nothing more than that, but
that did not stop the cops from fucking with Hannah's room
mate and sometimes bed mate, Rae Stephens, not her real name
as she would quickly tell you in one minute in ten seconds of
conversation.
Fort Lee, Police Station 3AM
Somebody sliced her up real fine," the cop said, while
another cop pinned up the police photographs of Hannah's
remains now neatly collected and cold at the morgue.
"Some fuck, your pimp, the Detective said." looking at Rae,
showing her he was pissed not at her but the murder of her
friend, said.
Detective Lieutenant Bill Mann walked quickly into the room
from his small office near the coke and copy machine. Jabbing
his finger into the photos, he continued." That cunt for
brains fuck cut her hands from her body while she was alive.
That ass hole then cut out the kid she was carrying and
stuffed the half formed brat back inside her twat. That
degenerate then burned off her nipples and cut off her feet.
When the screams got too loud, he smashed her throat and beat
her with a hammer. Finally, to make sure, as if she could be
still alive, he cut off her head, and came in her neck."
Rae listened to Mann watching him carefully (showing the cop
the same hate she would the killer), but then pausing
briefly, said. "I didn't think much of it when she was
missing," Rae said. "Though maybe you arrested her. But she
would have called then. In rehab maybe, but then last week I
got worried when she didn't visit with her kids in the foster
home. She never missed those visits.
"We always go where we go, know what I mean," Rae told the
detectives gathering 'round her in a circle, laughing and
threatening without even touching.
Rae wore a frail ripped tee shirt, micro skirt, no bra,
underwear and sandals. She was not shy, throwing her body
around, smoking, nervous, while she cooperated.
Every time a new cop came in to fuck her with their eyes, Rae
looked at them like she would a John and they mocked her
while they fondled folders, a FAX or what every bullshit
brought them into the Detectives holding room.
"You fucken cops like to keep us in your Zoo," Rae said.
Soften us up. Make us fucken scared. Go fuck yourself," she
laughed at them, smoking harder.
"No smoking," one big Detective leaning on the soda machine
yelled.
"What the fuck you doing, she screamed. That cigar smoking
you."
"No smoking," he simply said louder blowing smoke as he left.
Watching the fat cop leave, Rae said about him. "The fat
creep didn't offer to buy me a coke; fucken cheap shit cops,"
Rae smirked at him, turning her head up, looking for the
first time like she was just a bit ill at ease.
Nothing happened for five to ten minutes. Rae sat there
nervously twisting the ends of her hair, not the least bit
concerned that she was mostly uncovered.
"Guess she picked a bad one," Rae said, speaking about her
friend, Hannah, who had turned up dead that morning in a
motel in Fort Lee.
The cops said nothing. Rae fumed, tired of the quiet. "What
the fuck they do with my friend's body," she stood up,
alarmed raising a quiet alarm.
"Shut the fuck up you," one cope screamed from the other side
of the room. Tell your girl friend, Mann," referring to the
Detective Lieutenant who had just walked into the room, "to
suck your dick and shut the fuck up."
Getting up fast, another cop, near where Rae sat, pushed Rea
off the chair, and she fell on the floor immediately
screaming police brutality.
"Like you care, Rae said, shaking. "I know the county will
bury her. I would tell you if I knew her family, think I am
holding out."
Frustrated, Rae had a harder time with the silence than the
bullshit grab ass.
Asking for a cigarette, Rae cupped another cop's hand leaning
her other hand on his leg, then bending half over to pick up
the matches he dropped. She knew the cops were fucking her
with their eyes as she let her short skirt slide up where she
sat, legs apart, to reveal her partially shaved sex.
"I was wondering how the fuck long one of you would hold
out," as she grabbed her tits and felt herself up. "Want
some?"
One cop folded his hands in his lap; another laughed, leaving
the room, shaking his head, telling all the cops outside that
"this was one nasty cunt bitch."
Waiting for someone to say something, after she sat down,
letting her legs open naturally, Rae continued to talk and
the cops pretended to be busy and not to listen.
"I don't know. Been beat up, but no one's done me in, guess
I'm lucky," Rae said. disturbed by the laughter outside the
room, realizing the cop who had left the room had mocked her.
"Just like you local dicks," she said. "Want my ass, but
pretend to not need it. Shit."
When Detective Lieut. Mann of Fort Lee's Vice cops stood up
in the room walking over to Rae everything changed. Rae knew
him by his reputation: an honest cop who liked to get rough
on the blacks and Dominicans.
"Will I finally meet the hard ass Mann," she shouted,"
pointing her finger at him. " Heard they fried your ass for
fucking up some niggers in Englewood when you were off duty.
Nice to be a cop and get away with shit.
Mann didn't move. He said nothing, and did not acknowledge
Rae.
What Rae said was true, but looking at the Detective you
would never have noticed any change in expression.
Detective Mann told the regular dicks to get the fuck out of
the room, and he locked the door.
"No one will disturb us. Shit," he said, directed his
complaint at the cops outside, staring at the door.
"Don't give me this good cop bad cop crap, Rae said. You
think you're the first cop I had to blow to get my ass out of
jail. Get your pants off, she said. I do only class work,"
and she laughed.
"Did you know anyone who had threatened her, the Detective
asked.
"Do you want to get sucked or what," Rae smiled her best
hooker pitch.
Mann ignored her. "Stop being so fucken serious," Rae
whispered, using her voice. "Why the fuck would I tell
anyone, and beside you can't get sick from being blown. See I
have a rubber ready."
"Listen," he said, holding her shoulders, looking at her," I
can make this easy or hard. I can help you get into rehab,
and make sure you don't do any more time, or I can walk out
the fucken door and let the bulls have their way with you."
"You mean it. Get me in rehab. No time."
Yes, to all of it. No offense, he said, I love getting blown,
but not today. Got it. I want to make sure the thing that did
this to your friend gets stopped. Next time it could be your
ass."
Locking the door had made Rae more nervous, and also cynical.
Maybe he wanted a freebie. I hate that, Rae thought. Cops are
real perverts. Like to get rough themselves, like to fuck you
in the ass, and don't give a shit if they offer to spit there
first.
"Don't worry," Mann said, "I'm not going to hurt you. Just
answer the questions and we can get the fuck out of here.
I've been off shift for two hours. Wife's waiting."
Rae was surprised by which the Detective returned to a
slightly gentler approach.
He put her at ease for a moment. She stayed quiet and
listened thinking he is good looking, got lots of fucken
ladies.
"I knew Hannah for about a year," Rae told the Detective.
"Think she came from upstate. New York.
"Could be. Do you know the name of her pimp?"
"We didn't have one. Shared a room at that Palisadia Motel
since late February, no early March. She was gone the first
week of April. She did some heavy shit. She spent big bucks
on shit. Must have been selling it. No way she could have
come up with three hundred for shit for both of us. She did
hitch hike along Route 46, and give blow jobs to the horny
truckers looking for sleaze. We didn't bring 'em back to our
room. Never. Took 'em elsewhere."
"Did you know she was pregnant?"
"Yes. Wouldn't get an abortion. Planned to go on welfare. Her
ticket out of here, she said. Was going for rehab next week.
But you known next week is always never."
Mann looked up, disgusted. Rae was scratching her ass,
revealing two pimples and a large scar from a burn on her
inner thigh.
Rae liked showing her cunt. Most of the time she didn't care
if they were cops or not. She moved her legs apart wider so
he had to see it. He may have been a straight arrow, but he
didn't yell at her to stop.
While he talked, Mann couldn't keep his eyes off Rae's scar"
Your Guys are missing the show," Rae said and nodding towards
the door, inserting the heavy fake nail of her middle finger
into her cunt, opening the lips. You like she asked?" You got
some pull around here, keeping them out?
Mann looked away pretending to be bored. "I'm just an old
American boy," he said. "Like pussy. You want to show me it.
I need to interview you. If it makes you talk more,
truthfully or not, then I'll watch you play with yourself.
Really, doesn't do that much. You got a nice one, but my wife
is clean, well build and has a great moving ass."
"You're a lucky fuck."
"Now, let's stop this bullshit. Did she tell you the name of
the child's father? Did Josh beat her up? Did he fuck you
up?"
"We liked it you asshole."
Rae grew silent after her answer and stopped smiling. "How
the fuck would she know? You guys think you're smarted than
the streets. You think you fucken know it all. Shit you are
just another pimp selling different shit cleaner."
Rae stopped being provocative and sat carefully in the chair
to keep her ass fully covered. She obviously didn't like what
the cop had said.
"You got some fucken attitude," she said under her breath.
"Besides I am fucken HIV positive you ass. You should have
let me fuck you. I hate you fucken cops. All you do is make
me want to live longer to really fuck you all up, but dying
is all I got."
"I just want to get the man who fucked up your friend. I
don't give a fuck about you or what you did or who you suck."
"You're right. I did it to myself. I deserve it all, and when
I am beaten by Josh, I want it to cut it all away. I want to
feel free of the skin and the pain. I wanted to hold it up
and wallow in it. Yes, I was so fucken careful. I'm on the
pill. Didn't fuck without a condom, and I never fucked smack
heads. Didn't want AIDS. Now, I am going to fucken die. Shit,
the creeps on death's row live longer. Why do I give a shit
about her or you or anyone. Go fuck yourself, but I will tell
you, because the creep who fucked her up should gag on gas.
"Hannah had a new boy friend. Smart good guy. Not a hustler.
He loved her ass. His name was Harry or something like that.
Claimed she knew him from traveling near Harrisburg."
Suddenly Rae stopped talking and watched the Detective write
what she had said down in a special red notebook unlike any
of the other files and documents strewn on his desk.
"Don't you use a fucken tape recorder," Rae mocked. Glad to
see you writing it all down, probably shit. You could never
believe anything Hannah said. OK one thing, she loved the kid
she was carrying. Did you know she started hustling when she
was 13?"
Continuing with Hannah's story, Hannah liked Pennsylvania.
Told me that. Liked to fuck PA truckers. She never used
protection. I told her she was crazy. Now, look at us. She
had her head bashed in and I got AIDS."
"Ever have a party with her," Mann asked"
"You mean a group fuck? For real or for pay?"
"Yes. Doesn't matter. Reality or fake. You tell me"
"Sure. Does that turn you on. Want to watch your wife get
fucked by a ten inch brother I know. He is so thick he breaks
me open."
"How have you lived so long? I want to get your girlfriend's
killer, and you insult my wife. You fucken insect. Mann
pulled his piece from its strap and pointed it straight at
Rae's mouth.
Suddenly, he realized he had been had. "You fucken cunt
pushing my buttons."
Putting the piece back, Mann was quiet for a minute.
Rea suddenly asked him. "Do it a lot?"
"What the fuck you talking about," Mann, looking close and
hard at Rae said. "Make an ass out of yourself," Rae replied.
"Do you do it often?"
Getting control back, Mann asked Rae. "You said it. Now tell
me before I kick the crap out of you, were you and Hannah
queer?"
"Dicks are all alike. Like Lezzies, do you? What to watch us?
Fuck you. Got nothing more to say."
Rae cried. "I never cry. You fuck. Sure, we did it. Drugs
too. Anything, but she never told me much about the guy. She
did say, she knew it was his. Wasn't fucking anyone else
then, she said. Said his name was Harry or something."
"You say he wasn't her pimp?"
"No, we didn't have one I fucken said."
"Who is Josh then?"
"Some fucken loser we traded sex for dope."
"Don't shit me."
"My last pimp got busted for drugs, or was killed, and Hannah
never had one. She wanted to get clean for her baby. Went to
the clinic, was going sign herself into rehab, but she was
underage, and didn't want to be sent home when it was done.
Didn't want to lose the baby. Wanted to take care of it."
"Stop this crap. Who the fuck do you think I am your fucken
priest?"
"I'd take her when she disappeared. Really. Had her convinced
it was best. Do the right thing for your kid, I said to her.
I had been scraped out twice. Also had a kid when I was
thirteen. My fucken brother's if you believe it. He was
fucking me since I was eleven. He was nineteen when the cops
got him for drugs. Doing ten years at Trenton State."
"What happened to your kid?"
"Mom raising her. She'd be ten now, no, twelve."
"You mean ten, don't you. Your sheet says you're twenty
seven. Arrested ten times for drugs, and fourteen for
prostitution. All misdemeanors. No heavy shit.
"True. I never sell dope. "
"Good. My partner said he found enough crack inside your
mattress to bust you for dealing. Here's the search warrant."
"Yours right? Did you write at your typewriter or did it come
with the badge. "You're full of shit and you know it."
"Doesn't matter if you are guilty this time or not, this next
bust will make up for all the ones you escaped."
"Yes, but now I know you are a fucken scum bag liar.
Right? Right? Answer these fucken questions and cover up that
sick looking cunt of yours. You should clean it better. Looks
like you got mushrooms growing inside," Mann agitated told
Rae, putting his hands on her shoulders, digging his nails
into the skin.
"The shit's not mine. You're lying. Rae was upset. "Shit,"
she said, pulling her short skirt down trying to keep
covered. "I don't know the fucker's name."
"Who's that," Mann asked getting in her face "Fuck will kill
my ass," Rae looked down.
"Give him up or I'll lose you for a fucken week in the system
at County. No fucken sugar candy for you. You'll puke it
cold."
"His name was Harry from somewhere in Pennsylvania. Hannah
said he was older, had been in Nam, was a weird dude, but
never hurt anyone," and she loved him, she said. He knows I
suck dick and he still wants to know me, she told me. She
admitted he was too old, but what the fuck, "You must know
him," Rae realized she had given Henry up said, "Fuck no,"
and she covered her eyes with her folded hands.
"Ever fuck him," Mann asked, not letting up, but looking out
the window. "Getting bored with this shit," Mann said to
himself. And when I get pissed, I will piss all over you, do
you get that, you cunt."
Rae picked up on Mann's distraction. "No, I said."
"You and Hannah and whoever the fuck else partied with the
creep, right?"
Before Rae could answer, Detective Mann had opened an
envelope and dropped three Polaroid photographs of Rae,
Hannah, and some older guy, having a picnic near sown by the
Palisade Interstate Park. Couldn't miss the sign. Hannah was
sitting on his lap. Rae was sitting at his feet, and the man
rested his bare feet in Rae's lap.
"This the guy," Mann asked?
"You tell me. You seem to know every fuckin thing, sure looks
like we do. What the fuck does it matter anyway. She's dead,
and unless you think I had . . . ."
"Maybe we do. We found the photographs at your place."
"Should never have come in," Rae was starting to get angry
with herself..
"Good thing, you fucken did."
"The dope's not mine."
"You're right. I know that," the cop half smiled.
"His name is Henry Whitman," Rae said. "he drives a cab for
Hudson Street. A nice guy. Smart. Sure we fucked him. I don't
know if he's the father. I think he may be. He disappeared
from her life a week before Hannah ..."
" ...was kidnapped."
"You must know him. After all , he's a Fort Lee cab driver."
"He came in like you did."
"Got him in jail?"
"Can't say?"
"Where is he?"
"Why the fuck you care?"
"Anything else, Mann asked.
{silence} "You can go."
"Just like that," Rae was startled. "What about the drugs?"
"There was none. Just wanted to see what you would say. You
need a ride. Get a cop to take you home."
"Nothing is free from Dicks," Rae spat back. "Don't think so.
Don't want to blow a cop for a two mile cab ride."
There's a pay phone by the door out, Mann said looking at his
watch. The Detective was already gone. He knew that the taxi
guy Whitman didn't kill the girl. Now, he knew that Josh
didn't do it. "All this for shit," he said aloud.
"Can I use the phone," Rae asked, holding it in her hand.
"There's a pay phone downstairs, use that. Public can't use
these phone. Regulations. Sorry."
"Fuck you, Rae said, walking out the door letting it close
easy, almost as an after thought.
Detective David Mann had listened, and reviewed what he knew
watching Rae speak and gesture but giving up nothing. Almost
a waste of time, he thought. Guess she loves to show off, as
he remembering how Rae had hopped up and down, slowly,
nervously on the desk, trying to cover up her bare snatch,
not asking for a shirt, or anything, wanted to expose it.
Fucken slut, Mann thought, as reviewed his notes"
"Hannah Kay Coffield, Fairfield, Pennsylvania, 15, seven
months pregnant had thin emaciated, tender death camp arms,"
Mann wrote. The girl was HIV negative, bludgeoned, she had
thick viscous tongue, abruptly terminated. Sexual games
present as always, her life involved with honored sin, the
camp followers, rescued by great philanthropic Dominicans;
she's discarded this day; her unconscious skin placed by the
murderer in a cardboard box in a gas station bathroom; her
head had been cut from her body. autopsy records show she
died when some person or thing crushed her throat.
A retired Bronx produce market truck driver who lived in Fort
Lee reported her murder. His dog found the head of the girl
and was playing with it like a ball.
The older man asked why did it happen, you could see she had
a beautiful face even after all that happened. The man
shouted for help, and waiting to volunteer his testimony.
This was not the first homicide he had reported. Maybe he's
got a kink for fake crimes to cover up his own crimes. No,
concluding, he didn't do it. It would be too obvious. Mann
wrote in the margin of his report that there was no possible
connection.
Detective Mann would never admit it, but he would be proven
wrong.
More American Adventures in erotica and other works by Sean Farragher:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sean_Farragher/
Sean Farragher
Poetry Site: http://www.farragher.com
TxM6 Sites:
http://www.taximurders.com
http://www.taximurders.com/enfer
http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon
http://www.taximurders.com/paradisio (forthcoming)
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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