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  DUMPSITE (The Blastoff)

  © 2018 Nils R. Salminen and John L. Aversa

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any mechanical,

  photographic or electronic process or in the form of a photographic recording nor may it be stored in a retrieval system, transmitted or otherwise be copied for public or private use other than for “fair use” as brief quotations permission of the publisher.

  Written by: Nils R. Salminen and John L. Aversa

  Edited by: Twil Longhorn and Peggy Bowker

  Book Cover Design by: N. Salminen

  Book Interior Design by: J. Aversa

  ISBN: 978-1-54-394792-2

  Nordic Warrior Publishing

  Table of Contents

  Prelude to Death — The 45

  One — Double Trouble

  Two — Mudd and Mother

  Three — The Studio

  Four — Atlantic City Meeting

  Five — Music Makin’ Muddster

  Six — The Boys From AC

  Seven — Bump on the Head

  Eight — The Mirror Bares It All

  Nine — Dumpster/Muddster

  Ten — Intrigue at Chateau 54

  Eleven — The Aftermath

  Twelve — Belle Stallings

  Thirteen — The List

  Fourteen — The Thinking Cap

  Fifteen — Evil Meets Evil

  Sixteen — Detective Mother

  Seventeen — The Saga Continues

  Eighteen — Gerald Meets Mole

  Nineteen— Roll Me Over

  Twenty — Lundgren Spills the Beans

  TwentyOne — Santana and the Lady on the Beast

  TwentyTwo — Turn Up the Heat

  TwentyThree — The Dynamic Trio

  TwentyFour — The Session

  TwentyFive – The Session Continues

  TwentySix – Mudd Makes a Splash

  TwentySeven – The Tracks

  TwentyEight — Jonas Hits the Spot

  TwentyNine — Busy, Busy, Busy!

  Thirty – Maggie?

  ThirtyOne — Trust? There Is None

  ThirtyTwo — Sean Who?

  ThirtyThree — Would the Baddies Please Stand Up

  ThirtyFour — The Sweetning Hour

  Thirty-five — Evening Session

  ThirtySix — Mix It Up

  ThirtySeven — Solly and the Boss

  ThirtyEight — Hunt for the Case

  ThirtyNine — Chicago Here We Come

  Forty — Fair Lawn! Are You Sure?

  FortyOne – Mudd’s Revelation

  FortyTwo — Rolling Down the Parkway

  FortyThree — The Great Escape

  FortyFour — A Run for the Money

  FortyFive — Flying Bullets

  FortySix — Caught Up in Atlantic City

  FortySeven — Fancy Meeting You Here

  Epilog — Showtime

  Prelude to Death — The 45

  The early fifties were a hot bed for the music business. The 45* record and the jukebox had become a staple. As the 50’s progressed many DJ’s would find themselves out of the music scene and many small record labels would be caught up in the peak of the payola debacle. The industry itself had been, from the start, a low integrity entity. Hands were held out and hands were filled.

  Have you wondered, how a song became a hit? The producers, songwriters, arrangers and musicians worked to make the product. The record company worked to make the product a hit. The distributor hawked the product. The record pluggers filled the streets with sweet goodies for the record players. Money makes the world go around as well as putting records at the top of the charts.

  Disc jockeys, who played the records, on smaller radio stations were the targets of the record pluggers. Sometimes easy picking, sometimes not. Some had to be convinced.

  ~

  He looked in his mid-fifty’s; when he barked out an order it was done. His face was ruddy; deep marks and scars showed a violent man was behind the dark piercing eyes. He was called, The Old Man, out of respect. He had sent his main man, Malloy, with three other iniquitous underlings to set up Vernon Stallings. Stallings was standing in his way to be the number one record label in the race market. Stallings had been putting out hit after hit and selling them to his competitors. Malloy was to make it look as if Stallings had stolen two million bucks from the other record label owners. Malloy knew what he had to do. The Old Man would take nothing less.

  Malloy instructed his men to place two million plus a few hundred in small bills in a case and stash it in a closet at Stallings residence. This had been accomplished over the weekend. The two million was stolen from the offices of four different small-time record labels who were also suppliers of illegal drugs. They were using the music industry to cover their deceit. When they found the money missing they checked in with The Old Man, after all he was their supplier.

  He immediately told them he was leery of Stallings and accused him of stealing the money. The Old Man had Malloy take them to Stallings home in West Orange, NJ. When they arrived, the place was empty. Stallings had spotted the case with the money and disappeared. He and the case with two million plus, were gone.

  The Old Man was not happy, “Find him or else!” was his explicit instruction to Malloy.

  Stallings had a girlfriend in Lodi, NJ. Malloy headed in the direction. As they turned onto Church Street, Stallings was spotted getting out of his car. They pulled up and forced him into theirs. Stallings had the case. They found a few hundred in small bills but the two million was gone. They spent a few hours at the old factory working him over but to no avail. The more they beat him the less he talked. He was a tough cookie.

  Malloy knew he had to get the money or The Old Man would…well let’s say, he was not a forgiving sort.

  They decided to take Stallings to the dumpsite. There they would start digging a grave, maybe with that as incentive he would talk. They left the factory in two large sedans. Malloy would be the man who had Stallings life in his hands.

  They worked Stallings over and tried every which way to convince him to return the money. However, he kept denying there was any money in the case. Two of the men continued to work over Stallings while the other started to dig the grave. Stallings passed out and fell in a heap.

  “Pick him up,” hollered Malloy.

  He was limp. The men told Malloy he looked dead. One of the men thought he heard a noise coming from across the dumpsite, maybe a couple of hundred feet away. As they were about to check out the area a car engine could be heard at the entrance to dumpsite.

  “Quick throw the body in the shallow grave and cover it with as much debris as you can. Throw the empty case in there as well. Now! Let’s get out of here, pronto!” Malloy exclaimed, in a commanding voice.

  They departed knowing The Old Man would not be happy. Malloy asked the men if they wanted to work for him. By morning no one would ever hear The Old Man bark out another order.

  The way it was back in October of 1951.

  *A record is a vinyl disc with a hole in the middle. The record contains groove’s which produces audio (sound) when played on a turntable (phonograph)

  One — Double Trouble

  Wait! What about the Karry Kennels truck. Muddy was adamant about being followed. Chateau 54, has a contract with, Karry Kennels. Mother, decided to call, and ask if their truck was here the day Muddy went to town.

  They were not scheduled to be at, Chateau 54. The person he spoke to was working late doing inventory with his boss. He couldn’t find any emergency call on their schedule. After a short wait another voice was on the phone. The man wanted to know to whom he was speaking. Mother, explained the situation. The man told Mother. he was in charge of the scheduling.
One of their trucks had been missing for a few days. Karry Kennels had informed the police. The police had found the truck parked at the mall about five miles north. Mother, thanked him for the information. Now he was sure some, hanky panky was going on. The phone rang…

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, it’s Noodles, what can I do for you?”

  Mother explained everything he could think of at the moment.

  “Muddy called me a few days ago; he left a message but as usual you need a decoding machine to understand him. I called him earlier today. A woman answered. She told me Mudd was fine but was indisposed at the moment. Could I call back later?”

  Noodles, had some sort of trace on the cell towers but he wasn’t sure exactly where the call came from. He told Mother he would recheck the information and get back. The phone rang again.

  “Hello.”

  “Mother, it’s James anything new on the Mudd situation?”

  He told James what he knew. James, had no idea what all this meant. Vince was still missing but Mr. C., had called and was on his way to James’ hotel room. They didn’t want to talk on the phone.

  Mother spent more time thinking. A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts…

  “Come in.”

  It was Solly with a note. It had been delivered to the front desk. “Thought you might want this right away. I was at the desk when a delivery man came in with the message.”

  “A little late for a delivery.”

  “24-hour service.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Solly waited as Mother, opened the envelope. The note was a shock. He hadn’t expected this scenario. The handwriting looked feminine.

  To a friend of Mudd.

  He tells me he needs his pills or his heart will stop. If you want him to stay healthy you will have to help. Call the following number. Repeat these words. “I CAN HELP.” Then hang up and wait for a return call.

  The number was listed at the end of the message it had a local area code. Mother, called immediately – repeated the words – “I CAN HELP” - hung up and waited. The phone rang. A woman told him to bring Muddman’s pills in a plain brown paper bag and drop them off at the 24-hour gas station heading north on Route 9, a mile south of route 70. Go into the convenience store and put the bag in the freezer on the top shelf of the ice cream section. Go back to your car and leave. Sounded convoluted to Mother. He repeated all to Solly.

  “Maybe we should call the police,” Solly suggested.

  “Her voice had a familiar tone, as if I had heard it recently,” Mother told Solly.

  “Let me go there and see what happens. If I don’t get back within the hour, call them. This may be a sick person who thinks she has been jilted by Muddy, or a psychopath who is looking for blood.”

  “Let’s hope for the first.”

  Mother found a brown paper bag, got Muddy’s pills and headed to the drop off.

  ~

  The building was a large vacant structure located at the edge of a wooded area in the inner pinelands about 15 miles from Chateau 54. It belonged to the bank who assumed the mortgage when the owner defaulted. It had been sitting empty for over ten years. Jewel found the building completely abandoned except for an occasional homeless person. Jewel stashed some of her ill-gotten valuables in a crawl space under one of the rooms. She had a cot with some extra clothes.

  She looked down at the heap of human flesh lying on the floor. It was Muddy. There were blood-stains on his shirt. His head was covered with a black hood. He was unable to see and the drugs she had given him made him drowsy and unaware of his surroundings. Jewel spoke…

  “Mudd, Muddy, wake up.”

  “But I don’t want to go to school today, Mama.” I’m blind. No, there’s a hood over my head. My hands and feet are tied. I have a large cloth or something in my mouth which tastes like a wet diaper, yuk. My heart is racing. It’s hard to breathe. Then, in a lush sexy voice I heard her again. I couldn’t make out who she was but I knew I’d heard her voice before.

  “Muddy, Muddy, it’s okay sweetie we just want to ask you a few questions. The drug we gave you will wear off in a few minutes.”

  The last thing I remember was being in the studio. I was alone. It was a weird feeling. Sometimes the quiet is deafening. The keyboard, the drum kit, all seemed to have a personality. The guitar is laughing and the saxophone is saying, “Hit the road, Jack.” The walls and the ceiling all take on a sense of being alive.

  Somehow there was something different about the studio this day. I got the urge to work on the music for the next recording session. I had a strange feeling I was not alone. The snare drum would vibrate but when I looked over there was no one there.

  I went over to the console and powered up the recording equipment. I wish Mother was here to help with my electronic drum kit. I distinctly heard the sizzle cymbal from across the room. I started to adjust my headphones. Next thing I remember was telling my mother I didn’t want to go to school today. What’s with that?

  I still couldn’t see through the hood covering my head. Then in a flash I remembered. The voice, it was the broad from Chateau 54. I think her name was Jewel. She was always talking about us. Us? There is me and her but not us or any semblance of such a ludicrous thing. There come those big words again. Now it fits. The green truck which followed me to town the other day. The strange noises in the studio.

  I remember I was nice to the sicko. Now she thinks I’m in love with her? What does she really want? Is she doing this on her own? What does she have to do with Mother, if anything. How about the boys from Atlantic City? I’m the one tied up, hooded and gagged. Help!

  I can tell by the tone in her voice; she is getting impatient with me. But, there is nothing I can say, especially with this rag stuffed in my mouth. I wish I could find out what’s on her mind. As I’m thinking this, off comes my hood. Now maybe I’ll find out what she wants. With two mean looking guys standing on either side of her, I was doubly scared.

  She spoke first. “I’ve been in touch with Mother; he will drop off your pills.”

  “Mmm, mmm,” was all, Muddy, could muster with the rag in his mouth.

  “I’ll remove the rag if you promise not to get belligerent.”

  He nodded his head in an affirmative motion.

  “Well, what’s on your mind?” Jewel asked.

  It wasn’t easy but he mustered up a few words. “What do you want from me?”

  “Me? I want you, what do you say?”

  “I, yi,yi,yi…don’t understand.”

  “Listen stupid, you better come up with some good answers or you won’t be leaving here; ever!” She told Muddy with a cold stare from her beady little eyes.

  Did she call me stupid? If I could get my hands untied, I’d… calm down Mudd there’s nothing you can do. She sounds like my worst nightmare. “I’ll do the best I can.”

  “All right, you relax and I’ll get the pills, then we ask and you deliver. Do you

  understand?”

  I nodded a yes gesture again, as she left the building. I got myself as comfortable as possible. My scrawny body wouldn’t stand a chance against those two bruisers. As I lay there thinking I could hear the two gorillas talking.

  “Hey, Rudy, do you know Jewel’s last name?” asked, gorilla number one.

  “Yeah Ron, I think its McGeth or McGrog, something like that.” says Rudy.

  “You know less then I do.”

  “She seems to know what’s going on with the dumpsite stuff.”

  “She’s not old enough to have been there but maybe she’s related to the producer they tried to kill,” Ron comes back.

  Wow, I need to pay attention. They know something about the dumpsite.

  Ron continues, “It’s funny; all these people think there was a murder committed when actually nothing like that happened.”

  “Really, what’s the story? Do you know?

  “Yeah I know.”

>   “How come you know and I don’t?”

  “I was working for Uncle Ralston, a few years ago when you were on the west coast with your lady friend. You remember? The romance, with the actress, that blew up in your face. Well, we were playing cards one night and the story came up. I listened. Now I know.”

  “Well spill it.”

  “Okay, here’s what I heard. This is direct from one of the participants.”

  Now I was getting excited. Me, the Muddman, will get the story from the horse’s mouth. Hope I live long enough to tell Mother.

  Ron started to ramble. “Well it was back in the early fifty’s – I think 1951. This guy named Vernon Stallings, supposedly swindled over two million bucks from some independent record companies. One of the companies was the, Hi-Di-Lo, record label. It was financed by some of the people our uncle was working for. This guy, Stallings, was from Georgia and really knew the R&B market, He was very good at making records in what I think they called the race market. The songs were recorded at home, or in the backroom of local bars at next to no cost. Some of the songs became big hits when the rock and roll market became the thing. Now I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me back up.”

  “Yeah, get it right,” Rudy says.

  “Stallings, disappeared from the scene with the money. The backers were livid. They searched for him for about three months. Finally, he made a mistake. He came home to see his girlfriend. She was living with her parents in Lodi, New Jersey. She knew nothing about Stallings’ swindling activities. Uncle Ralston was asked to watch the house and sure enough one evening, Stallings, appeared. Before he reached the front door, he was apprehended. The next afternoon they brought him to the dumpsite with the intent of beating him until he told them where the money was hidden. This is where those kids get involved. They watched the whole thing from behind a mound; what they thought they saw ended up completely different.”

  This is really something. Apparently, they don’t know Noodles and I also witnessed the same thing. Come on big guy tell me more.