His name is Ed Turner. It has been a while since she had last talked to Marty’s partner. Ed took Marty’s shooting pretty hard and went on a leave of absence to work through the emotional trauma afterwards. He came back stronger than ever and worked his way up through the ranks and was now an Deputy Sheriff for the NYPD in charge of Brooklyn. Mrs. Stockton saw a newspaper article recently talking about all of the positive things he has done for that department. She looked up the non emergency number for the station on the internet.
“Brooklyn Police Department,” the operator answered. “I would like to speak to Deputy Sheriff Ed Turner.” “He’s out on a call. Would you like to leave him a message?” “Do you know when he will be back? I would like to stop down and see him,” Mrs. Stockton replied. “We are never sure when they will be back, best thing may be for you to leave him a message and have him call you.”
Mrs. Stockton left a message on Ed’s voicemail. The voice sounded a little older, but still the same. She decided to put some final touches on her garden before winter set in; making sure she pulled all of the remaining dead plants and leaves out and removing the mulch from underneath the rose bushes. She loved her rose bushes. They were a gift from the kids one Mother’s Day when they were much younger and she tended to them with lots of love.
After a couple of hours in the garden, she went back in the house and checked for messages. None yet. She was sure that Ed was a busy man, it may take him a while to get back to her. She went back outside and brought all of her gardening tools into the shed, done for another season. Walking back towards the house she glanced over into the Tinkers yard and saw Oxford, digging a hole to bury a bone. Then the sound of a phone ringing came through the open kitchen window.
“Hello,” she answered almost out of breath from running to the phone. “Shirley?” A male voice on the other end inquired. “Ed, how are you doing?” “Better question is are you o.k.? Sounds like you are out of breath.” “I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss your call, so when I heard it ring, I ran to it.” “Well, it is good to hear your voice. How are things with the kids?” “They are good. David’s daughter is going to school at Columbia.” “Walter’s favorite place, he would be proud.” “Nick is at USC on a football scholarship and Ben is in his third year at OSU.” “Just like his Dad. Last picture I saw of him, he looks just like him too.” “Almost a spitting image. Sometimes it is hard for me not to call him Marty. How are Ellen and the kids?” “Good. Betsy is going to start her second year at Standford and Cory will be graduating from high school.” “They have all grown up so fast, haven’t they?” Mrs. Stockton said. “In your message you said you had a favor to ask. What do you have for me?” “I want to know where Jerry Givings is.” “Why do you want to know that, Shirley. He is never getting out.” “I want to know if he is sorry for what he did to my family.” “I’m almost sure he isn’t, but why do you want to know?” “Trying to make peace with my son’s death. And besides, I never got to ask him.” “Are you planning to visit him?” “Maybe. Or just send a letter or call.” “Well, prison is not a place for a nice lady like you. But, if you feel the need to do something, I would probably call or write.” “So, you know where he is?” “Of course I do, he killed my partner. And the only way he is getting out of there is if they roll him out on a gurney dead.”
Mrs. Stockton knew that he meant it. During the trial, Ed was almost ready to pull a gun and shoot him on the spot.
“So, are you going to tell me where he is?” Mrs. Stockton asked. “I’m not sure it is such a good idea. I don’t want him to hurt you any more than he already has. He’s not a nice man.” “How could he hurt me any more than he already has. He killed my son.” “I’d rather have you leave this alone.” “I need to at least ask. He may not respond to me, but at least I tried.” “Do you have an email address?” Ed asked. “Yes,” she replied, hearing some typing in the background. “I will give you the general email of the prison that he is at. You can send an email to him and he will get it. Whether he’ll respond is up to him. Will that work for you?” “Yes, Ed. Thank you.”
He gave her the email address for the Tressman/Newman prison in Kentucky. It was kind of scary for her to know where he was and the fact that he was still alive. The next project will be to write the email.