Frank Jusrice Rules The Patch by Bob Furlin
Out to get revenge on the rape and sodomizing of his mother plus the murder of his fiancé. A Coal and Iron Policeman, Frank Justice Rules, catches up with the culprits in a small coal mining village called The Patch.
The Patch is a fictional tale of a Coal Mine Village and its Coal Company Police called Coal and Iron Police. It portrays the life of one Iron and the battle he fought to understand and combat the viciousness of the Coal Company Police. The Coal & Iron Police, a private coal company paid police force, brought in by the coal company. Their job was to keep order among the miners, and keep the strikers out of the town and away from the mine. They were mostly thugs, hired by the coal companies and paid to police the entire town and the coal company property. Frank Justice Rule (Regnare) is a shadowy character – Lawyer, Policeman, Thug, Mogul -- a rich Avenger that brings justice his way. The Patch could be any one of hundreds of small mining villages that dot the landscape of Western Pennsylvania, West Virginia, or Kentucky. Life was hard and challenging and the song sixteen tons was spot on -- “You owe your soul to the Company Store.”
The continuous sound of the Pittsburgh Coal Company Mine One's siren finally fully awakens Frank out of his troubling sleep and his remembering. He crawls out of the small bed on the second story of house thirteen of what the miners fondly call the Patch.
"Hurry up you dumb Dago there has been an accident in shaft number one," George, the head iron, yells at Frank and the kerosene lamp he carried dimly lit the dark room.
George singled Frank out while ignoring the others who were just as slow as he was in awakening, "That new Wop needs tested. He looks soft to me. Carl, find out how tough he really is," George tells his big burly trusted assistant when he returned to the kitchen.
"You want me to test him now?” Carl asks.
"No you stupid Kraut, when we finish with this trouble. Get your butt down to the bridge and make sure none of the bitches or their whelps get across," the massively built six foot three leader of the local coal and iron police unit orders as he shoves Carl out the back door.
"Dumb Dago, if he only knew," Frank mumbles and lights a small candle. He dresses quickly in the small cold smelly bedroom that housed four single bunks.
"Leon, get up before George gets after you," he kicked the bunk of the middle-aged Hungarian still sleeping next to him.
"Ok, ok; I hear you, you bearded thug" Leon said in broken English. Frank was sporting a thick dark full beard.
Frank hurries by the other two beds without saying anything to the two grumbling policemen. His well muscled body was still aching from the restless cut short night he spent in the hard small bed. He had only three hours sleep and the nightmare made it worse.
He glances into the other upstairs bedroom on his right and sees in the dim light two policemen in various stages of dress. Two of the beds were empty. He descends the narrow enclosed stairway turns right into the downstairs bedroom. The two beds were empty and he heard voices in the kitchen. He noticed the front door standing open as he turned right into the kitchen.
"Frank, close the front door and stoke that stove. It's cold enough in here; you would think someone raised them in a barn," George orders him.
He went back into the room closes the door and places two pieces of coal into the stove out of the bucket sitting next to it. The small potbellied stove was the only heat for the small four room house except when the cooking stove in the kitchen was in use.
There was a coffeepot on the small stove and there was only half of a cup left when he went to get some. Seems the others had their fill before leaving. There were ten men housed in this standard house used by the coal miners and their families.
"Frank, follow Carl to the barn and he will tell you what to do," George snaps at him.
Frank grabbed a lantern from the kitchen then hurried out the front door onto the small front porch making sure he closed the front door. He hurries down the six steps to the front yard and onto the narrow dirt walkway. He decides not to turn left up the path that ran in front of the first row of identical gray one family houses. Instead he goes over the steep bank and onto the red-dog street. He runs up First Street towards the horse and mule barn noticing that all five of the large two story boss’s houses were dark with no activity; the five houses faced the smaller ones.
He sees the light from Carl's lantern about twenty feet ahead of him and he slows as the memory of many years ago floods his mind. Three weeks ago when he walked into the house the first day on-the-job; there sat Carl. He stopped at the sight of him and a shutter of rage rushed through his body. He would be alone with the man he vowed to punish so many years ago.