8 comments/ 8952 views/ 6 favorites Silverfish Ch. 01 By: WifeWatchman The chronological order of my stories is as follows: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Teresa's Summer Race, The Trilogy series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Hot Wives Investment Club series, Seriously Inconvenienced series, Case of the Paper Trail series, Christmas Mystery Theater, The Porno Set Mystery series, The Medical Murder Mystery series, The Eightfold Fence series, Pale Morning Light series. Silverfish, Ch. 01 Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. Part 1 - Prologue I looked over the cleared out ground where The Cabin had once stood, seeing the Town in the distance in the valley below. I had been working to put together the plans that I'd dreamed about while recovering from Skinny Beard's drug injection. The architect was putting together the drawings, and the concrete for the foundation and support for the new deck was going to be poured in the next two weeks, provided the weather cooperated. It was going to be an awesome new home. The new Cabin would be an A-Frame like some European highlands cabins, with the roof coming down to within 8 feet of the ground. There would be three floors: an upper attic playroom on the 3rd floor, two bedrooms on the 2nd floor, and a 1st floor that would be raised to the level of the driveway instead of half-sunk-in like the old Cabin had been. And that meant there would be a half-basement with a screened-in area under the deck that would extend from the back of the main floor, higher than the previous deck, affording an even better view... The generous loan afforded me by P. Harvey Eckhart allowed for the best materials, and it would not be an easy thing to burn this new home down. The materials would be a concrete and steel frame, with Hardiplank and other fireproof materials... ... and windows. Bulletproof glass windows. A lot of windows. Large windows that let in light and let that view of the Town be the adornment of the west wall. It was going to be awesome. Part 2 - The Cases Dressed in civilian attire and looking good in my gray suit and black mock turtleneck sweater, I entered the Town's Federal Building on the morning of Friday, March 6th. I made my way into the inner sanctum that was the FBI suite there. Special Agent Lindy Linares met me in the hallway, and after some flirtatious talk she took me to the Conference Room, where Special Agent in Charge Jack Muscone was waiting. "Thanks for coming, Don." Jack said. "Come on in and have a seat. You can log in with your iPhone's FBI app, as well: the Director wants you to get paid for this consultation." "Never a good idea to turn down money when one is rebuilding his house." I said, referring to the imminent construction of The Cabin on the side of the mountain finger overlooking the University. I logged in using the app. "So, are you going to risk a witch trial by telling me why I asked you here?" said Jack, needling me. "Or should I just tell you?" "Well," I said, "it's important to your boss, the Deputy Director, so it must be something either big or something he thinks will help me with some of the cases we've been working on. The bee in his bonnet is the 'Superior Bloodlines' group, so I'm guessing it has to do with them." "You're part right." said Jack, his beady eyes showing a bit of amusement. "It's something the Deputy Director would like to get more information on, and he does think it might be of some use to you, though I can't tell why in reading the file myself. But it's not about 'Superior Bloodlines', unless you do one of those aforementioned witch tricks of yours and find a connection." "Sounds interesting." I said. "Is it classified?" "No, though the data is considered sensitive," said Jack, "and one of the burglaries was in your County here, so you have some local jurisdictional play as well, if you need it." "Burglaries?" I asked. "Okay, tell me about it." Jack slid a file thick with papers over to me, and read from a synopsis, itself a number of pages long. I began looking at the file as Jack said "Over a period of three years, beginning nearly nine years ago and ending six years ago, there was a series of bank heists across the nation. The first one was in the Seattle/Tacoma area, then the burglar or burglars moved across the nation in something of a zig-zag pattern, the last robbery that we know of being in Jacksonville, Florida." Jack continued: "There were thirty crimes that fit this profile, and they included the City National Bank and this Town's Second National Bank. It was the recent hit on Second National by the Corrigan Cell's 'Freelance Hit Team' that got my boss interested in these cases again, and he then had me ask you to look into it, to see if you can find any patterns that we might have missed." I nodded as Jack went on: "The original crimes were all done at night while the banks were closed. The distinctive feature of all of them was that the burglar left a sign, a loop that crosses on one end, with a dot inside. It looks like the Christian 'fish' symbol. The burglar usually wrote in a silver Sharpie, but sometimes did the outline in black and colored the inside of the fish with silver. As to the symbol, it may not be meant to be a Christian fish: in one of the earliest robberies, the word 'silverfish' was scrawled below the drawing. Ergo, we gave him, or her, the codename 'Silverfish'." "Sounds about right." I said as I looked at a photo of the fish taken at one of the crime scenes. It indeed looked like one of those silver Christian fishes that people put on the back of their cars, but with a round dot eye instead of a Christian cross for an eye. "A silverfish is a little insect that likes the dark and eats the glue in the bindings of books, and appears in the wrong places at inopportune times. Looks like this bug did the same thing: sneaking into dark banks in the night, eating the money, so to speak. So, how much was stolen?" "You always seem to ask just the right question at the right time." said Jack, and I could not tell if that was serious or needling me. "The total haul of the 30 bank jobs was, and to the penny, $10,001,022.56. We are guessing that the robber's goal was to steal ten million dollars, then retire when that number was reached." I let out a low whistle. "Wow, that's over $333,000 per job! The average professional bank job yields $30,000 to $50,000, and rarely over a hundred grand. If you add in the amateurish jobs at the teller windows, it's even less, much less: about $5,000 per robbery." "And it gets better." said Muscone. "The cash was taken in 28 burglaries. In the other two, they took safety deposit boxes and their contents. In one bank, near Denver, they took literally every safety deposit box in the safe. In the other, near Philadelphia, they took five safety deposit boxes." "Denver, Philly... near U.S. Mints." I said absentmindedly, thinking out loud. Muscone blinked hard. "Good grief." he muttered. "Never even thought about that." Then he said, more brightly, "But there was no mention of anything associated with the Mints being taken." "That's because if there was something of immense value, like a plate or die, or the paper used to make money, its theft would become a classified thing and would not be permitted in this unclassified report." I said. Jack blinked hard again, then shook his head. "I'll check with the boss," he said, "and see if there is a classified version of this report. What else?" "Nothing yet." I said. "Can I take this file to Police Headquarters, or to my home, and read it over the weekend?" "Sure." Muscone said. "Normal protocols, of course: keep it locked up, don't make copies, yadda yadda yadda." "No problem." I replied, getting up and gathering everything together. As I walked to the door, I looked back at Muscone and said "By the way, tell your Director that I have a good idea of why he gave me this." "Why is that?" Jack asked, taking my bait hook, line and sinker. "I'll do you like I do my partner, Iron Crowbar 2." I said, referring to Cindy Ross. "I'll let you think about it and figure it out..." With that, I hurriedly left the room, leaving Jack Muscone to whisper unprintable curses in my wake. Part 3 - Sexual Talents On Display "So," said Laura on Saturday night, March 7th, massaging my shoulders as I sat at my desk at home, poring over the files and occasionally bringing something up on my computer screen. "This one really has you interested. Find anything?" "It's definitely interesting." I said, leaning back and trying to relax and enjoy Laura's massage... her hands were damn good. "Took me hours to graphically post the locations on a map of the US, as you can see here on the monitor. I then finally got it to pop them up one-by-one in chronological order. I used to program better than this; I've really gotten dependent on Myron and Mary..." "That's because your own considerable talents lie elsewhere." Laura said. "So, before I drag you off to bed to take advantage of some of those talents, what have you found?... if anything." "Not much. On two occasions, the burglar wrote the word 'Silverfish' in addition to the fish loop symbol: one time was one of the very first heists, the other time was the very last one, in Jacksonville, when he wrote 'Silverfish bids you adieu'. He may have known he had enough to meet his ten million dollar goal, and so he wrote that." "That makes sense for the last one." Laura said. "But what about the first one?" "Not sure." I said. "Except I suspect the perp wanted to establish his identity, maybe to goad the Police and FBI when he committed future crimes. As to the places and timing, it's not any kind of logical pattern, no smooth city-to-city lines; but at the same time, it's not wild and crazy, and it slowly travels from upper left to lower right on the map. The time between heists is fairly even, but sometimes there would be crimes in back-to-back weeks, sometimes almost two months between hits." "Any around the Holidays?" Laura asked. "None right on a holiday, but there was one the Saturday before Memorial Day..." I said, pointing to one of the dots on the computer monitor screen. Laura looked at the monitor for a few minutes, but after I played the simulation for her, she said she didn't see any particular pattern, either. "And I suspect the FBI's best analysts have already covered this ground, don't you think?" "I'm sure they have." I said. "But it was good practice to do it myself, not to mention figure out a few lines of code to graph it." I realized how tired I was. "But now I'm exhausted." "I'm not surprised." Laura said. "You haven't eaten a thing all day. There's hamburger patties and hot dogs in the refrigerator for you to heat and eat... and then I'm going to take you to bed and feast on your big... thick... hot dog..." I felt her kiss my neck as her arms encircled my shoulders. I did not need further coaxing. "Mmmm, let's go." I said. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Jack Muscone entered the Cattleman's Club restaurant and bar on Saturday evening and headed to the bar. The restaurant was very busy as the food was good, but the bar was relatively quiet as it served a more upscale clientele than those looking for a party atmosphere. He was very surprised at who he saw at the far end of the bar as he approached, and he headed over to the empty seat next to her. 
"Can I buy a girl a drink?" Muscone asked. "Sure." Tanya Perlman said. "How are you doing, Jack?" "Good." Muscone replied. He ordered a drink for himself and for Tanya another round of what she was having, then said "How about you? How's the baby doing?" "He's good." Tanya said. "Pete's mom is keeping him tonight, and Don's mom is staying over and helping. Phyllis loves babies, and I needed an evening to myself." She then added "But don't let that make you think I want to be alone." They moved to a booth in the corner of the bar room. "So how is MCD doing?" Jack asked after they sat down. "It's okay." said Tanya. "The people are good, but I think they're bored. Don keeps looking for things to keep their minds occupied. As for me, I want to take a crowbar, or better yet a sledgehammer, and knock down a couple of the walls in that shithole office I have to sit in." Muscone laughed at the look on Tanya's face when she said that. "So, are you happy there?" Jack asked, reading some wistfulness in Tanya's cherubic face. Tanya sighed. "Yes... and to be honest, sometimes no. On the one hand, there's no better place to be, and no better person to work for than Commander Troy. On the other hand, I feel like I'm the fourth wheel of a tricycle." Jack said "Well, I happen to know that Don thinks very, very highly of you. He says that if you weren't in charge of MCD and able to run it without him, he wouldn't feel nearly as comfortable going on his consulting trips for the FBI." "That's sweet of you to tell me." said Tanya, smiling at the FBI agent. "Don't tell him I said this," said Jack, "but if you really step up and show him you've got MCD well managed, and then let him know you do, things for both you and he will work out very well." "Maybe," said Tanya, then broke into her playful grin, "but don't get any hopes up about Don leaving us for the FBI full time. I know for a fact he doesn't want to go anywhere else." "Ah, you're catching on to me." Jack said. "Let's change the subject," Tanya said, "and get out of here. What I really need right now is a big FBI agent's cock, and you look like you could use a good release... or two or three." "I see the Iron Crowbar has taught you mindreading, among your other... considerable talents." Jack replied... Part 4 - Turf Wars On Monday morning, March 9th, I assembled a team in Classroom 'E'. It consisted of Detective Teddy Parker, Detective Joanne Cummings, Detective Julie Newton of Vice, Master Technician Myron Milton and Senior Technician Mary Mahoney. Sitting in were Lieutenants Tanya Perlman and Cindy Ross, and ADA Paulina Patterson. "Okay, guys," I said, "this is a synopsis of the information of the Silverfish bank heists. As local law enforcement, you're supposed to concentrate only on the local crime at Second National Bank, which is considered a cold case-- yes, Myron?" "Sir," said Myron Milton, "the Federal Statute of Limitations for bank robbery is five years, and our State's Statute of Limitations is seven years. We're past that." I turned to Paulina. "You're right about that," Paulina said, "but that doesn't stop you from investigating and finding the identity of the criminal. And once you have that, there are some things we can do at the State level, but also which the U.S. Attorneys can do at their level. If we find out who it is, then find they continued to commit other crimes, we often can attach these crimes to the more recent ones. It's called 'continuing misconduct'." "Yes, thank you, Ms. Patterson." I said. "Basically, guys, it's a relatively quiet time, and we're doing this as an exercise, so--" Just then, the door opened with a violent push, and Deputy Chief Robert Brownlee strode in. "Milton, Mahoney," he called out, "you're not supposed to be in here. You work for I.T., and that means you work for me." "Bull shit." I said, standing up to confront Brownlee. "They're part of MCD, they are Detectives. Qualified to use guns, too." "That doesn't matter, Troy." Brownlee said confrontationally. "They're I.T., they work for me, and you can't use them without my say so." "Again, you're full of shit." I replied. "Cindy, keep the meeting going. Myron, Mary, I'm giving you a direct order to stay here, and to not listen to Brownlee. I'm still I.T. Supervisor, not to mention in command of all officers. You do not work for him, now or ever." I turned to Brownlee, "Okay Paper Pusher, let's go talk to the Sheriff." "Who are you calling a 'paper pusher', dipshit?" Brownlee replied, not moving. At that, a red crowbar came out... and so did a blue one. Cindy Ross stood up, also, and was absolutely ready to beat the shit out of Brownlee. I had people loyal to me; Brownlee was not popular with anyone save a few crooked Union reps. "What are you going to do, hit me?" Brownlee sneered. "Yes." I said. "And you know how it works on the Force, Paper Pusher... nobody will see a thing." It was dead quiet for the next few seconds, then Brownlee relented, his gambit failing. "Let's do go see the Sheriff. He'll tell you to shove that crowbar up your fucking ass." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "For God's sake, Robert," said Sheriff Daniel Allgood. We were in the Police Chief's office, Daniel sitting behind the desk, myself and Brownlee standing before it. "You could've have used the least little bit of tact; instead you went in like a bull in a china shop and looked like a jerk in front of the Commander's most loyal people." "Sheriff," said Brownlee, "we had this discussion: I.T. is Properties, it's administration... and it's my area. And speaking of tact, Sheriff, Troy has no tact at all, and won't do the right thing unless the issue is forced. We've already had this discussion, and I thought we were agreed on this." "We didn't agree for you to go roaring into an MCD meeting and be so confrontational about it." retorted Allgood. "Okay, both of you, sit down. Sit!" ordered Allgood. Brownlee and I sat down, wary of each other. We were near physical confrontation, and everyone in the room knew it. "Don, what's your side of this?" asked Sheriff Allgood. I realized I was being 'set up' in that this was a guided conversation. But I tried to remain calm. "Well, Sheriff," I said, "first of all, Milton and Mahoney are actually Detectives, and are qualified with guns, just as Newton is. They're actually a part of MCD, as far as I'm concerned, just as Newton is with Vice. And second, I'm still I.T. Supervisor from the first day I walked into this Police Headquarters. I never gave that up." "What about Lainie and Sonali?" asked Allgood. "What are they?" "Data miners, part of MCD or Vice. I.T. in and of itself are the people that handle the servers, install software, fix or replace broken computer equipment." I said, then said with alacrity: "Sheriff, the bottom line is that no Detective should have to get permission from this paper pusher to get information from the data people." "Call me a paper pusher again, asshole..." said Brownlee, menacingly. "Or what... 'paper pusher'? Or what?" After an uncomfortable several seconds of silence, I said "If you're going to make a threat, Brownlee, you damn well better be able to back it up. I don't think you have the guts to try to whip me, asswipe." My body was tense and ready to rise to meet any attack. I was praying that Brownlee would try something. "And 'paper pusher' is right: that's all you are, a paper pusher. You've never done a day of real police work in your life." "Ease up, both of you." said the Sheriff, rescuing Brownlee, who looked both furious and helpless at the same time as I called him out and called him the coward that he was. Silverfish Ch. 01 Allgood continued: "Okay, Don, here's the situation. I think you're right about the data people, they're there to help the Detectives, and as such they are part of the Detective branch. But the I.T. people, the ones who install the equipment and manage the servers, and all that... they're definitely part of the Properties group." Allgood paused, and I knew what was coming. He then said "And you know this has been coming since before Chief Griswold retired, Don: you definitely were in charge of I.T., but you have too much else to do. So we're going to be making a change there." Brownlee was grinning at what he thought was a victory, but Allgood's next statement wiped the smile from his face. "I've already talked to members of the Council about the situation, even before you raised a stink about it, Robert. They want to consolidate some of the I.T. operations, which will allow the Police and Court systems to be more integrated and work together. They also want the branches of the Public Safety Department, which is the Police, Fire, EMS and Public Health Departments, to be more integrated. And seeing what's happening here, I think that's a good idea... take I.T. completely out of the Police Department's Properties Group's hands, and thus out of your direct control." Brownlee was frowning, but maybe it was me wincing that caused the Sheriff to end the meeting. "Okay Robert, I need to talk to the Commander here. For now, I'm leaving Milton in charge of the SuperUser and SuperAdmin assignments, as well as overall I.T. security, and he'll continue to report to Commander Troy for the time being." "But Sheriff," said Brownlee, not giving it up, "we've discussed this, and the Union agrees: Commander Troy should not be I.T. Supervisor any longer, nor have control over I.T. operations--" "And he won't." replied Allgood, cutting Brownlee off. "But I'm not going to change everything on a dime, especially where computer security is concerned. You are not a computer nor I.T. expert, Robert, and neither am I. Now go; let me talk to the Commander." Brownlee was angry, but seeing me about to get up with my crowbar in my hand, he decided leaving was his wisest course of action, and he took it. "Thanks for staying cool, Don." Daniel said. "I'm just waiting for the full story." I said. "What do you mean?" Sheriff Allgood asked, a gleam in his eye. "Only that I talked to the Council about this months ago." I said. "The Council agreed that the Police Department, Sheriff Department and Justice Department, i.e. the Courts, have to have separate systems, and that's for security reasons. But we also installed a system and servers for joint operations and secure transfer of information and digital evidence, and the like. So it's a done deal, though Paper Pusher there doesn't know it." "You're right." said Allgood. "The full story is that Brownlee has been raising a lot of crap about who is in charge of what. Instead of being cooperative, he runs to his Union buddies, who then run to certain Council members. But the Council is trying mighty hard to infuse me, your friendly neighborhood Sheriff, into my role of leading the Public Safety Department, and they are not happy that Brownlee is going about things the way he is." "Remove him, then." I said. "Before we start losing good people. Captain Harlow has already told me that some of her people are starting to look for other jobs, and I suspect she is, also." "I hear you, but we're stuck with him." Allgood said. "The Council made him Deputy Chief to keep him from being put in the Chief's chair altogether. And he is a good manager of the overhead operations, even if everyone does think he's the biggest asshole since Steven Ikea left." "Yeah." I said. "Chief Griswold warned me something like this would happen. I don't have his political skills, either, so I'm not good at these games. I'm trying to solve crimes here like the Police are supposed to do. Now I've got this jackass, who couldn't solve a case of missing toilet paper in an outhouse, trying as hard as he can to keep me from doing my job. You say he does a good job in administrative things, but now that he's been promoted, will he keep that up? Or will he start trying to fuck with me more than doing his job?" "I've already told him he's overstepped on a few things." Allgood said. "But what I want to ask you is this: how do we resolve this situation of I.T.? Brownlee explicitly wants control of SuperUser and SuperAdmin statuses, and he does not want you having any. He's pushing that especially hard. That's no big deal: the Council wants you to have access due to your position as Commander, and I want that also. So you'll have it. But one thing is for sure: you have to give up I.T., it can't be yours, and basically Brownlee will be over it. He'll also push for control of data information, especially Milton and Mahoney. Just to fuck with you." "Man, that sucks." I said, more to myself than to Daniel. "I don't mind giving I.T. away; I did the same thing with the Campus Police. But they brought in competent people to run I.T. on Campus; we've got this idiot." "So..." Allgood said, "what's your solution to the whole mess? And it has to be something I can take to the Council, not any backdoor tricks." Wow, Daniel was giving me an opportunity here, I realized. "First," I said, "I am not giving up Myron, Mary, Sonali or Lainie, no matter what. I'm suggesting a Data Squad, led by Myron, that will be part of the Detectives branch under Cindy's control. Someone will have to think of a cool name for it, but you get the idea." "That's an excellent idea." said Allgood. "But System Maintenance, physical computers, and the servers are going to be under I.T. And ultimately, under Deputy Chief Robert Brownlee." I don't know if Daniel was needling me or trying to make me think of a better solution... and then one came to me. "Yeah." I said, then brightened up as I had an idea. "Yeah, let's do let Brownlee have what he wants, except I'm not giving up SuperAdmin for either myself or Myron. Yeah, let's let him have what he wants... oh, by the way, Sheriff, who are you putting into the Captain's slot for Physical Properties?" "Ah, now you're thinking like Chief Griswold told me you'd be thinking." said Sheriff Daniel Allgood, grinning. "I'm thinking of one more thing that needs to happen, and it's an admin thing." I said. "So I want you to help me make it happen before Brownlee tries to stop it..." Part 5 - Back To Basics (of the Case) "So, what did you guys do while I was taking care of the lightwork?" I asked Cindy as she and Tanya came into my office. "Myron and Mary are going to see what they can get, but they think you'll have better luck going through the FBI." Cindy replied. "Julie Newton says she'll try to trace the money and any laundering operations, but she needs to be pointed in the right direction to search, meaning some names, locations, and such." "I was hoping she'd have ideas to start looking at now." I said. "Oh well, what about Teddy and Joanne?" Tanya answered "I have them going to Second National Bank and interview the Assistant Manager there. He was a loan officer there when the Silverfish bank heist was committed. Teddy will tell him they're seeing if there's a connection between that one and the more recent one, the one where the Corrigan Cell mercenaries robbed them and took Luisa Gomez." Having decided official business was done and wanting to satisfy her enormous curiosity, Tanya then asked "So, Don, what's going on with 'Brown Nose' Brownlee?" "He's demanding to take over I.T.," I said, "and regarding the systems and maintenance and such, he's right that it falls under his pervue as Deputy Chief, which is essentially the 'XO' job. But I'm keeping the data people; they'll formally be assigned to the Detectives. Cindy, you now have MCD, Vice, and Data to watch over." "And now it's going to be slow computers, losing our access, and waiting forever to get things back?" Cindy asked. She knew how things were going to be. "We'll see." I said. "The Sheriff did take my advice, and he is going to put Captain Marc Aaron into the Physical Properties slot. Oh yes, we'll have to promote him from Lieutenant first, but he'll be brevetted to Captain and immediately assigned to the post. Brownlee wanted Douglas Forsyth there, but the Sheriff is going to tell 'Brown Nose' to pound sand on that. Aaron isn't exactly our best buddy, but he's no friend of Brownlee and he does good work, so he won't tolerate too much crap if I.T. tries to fuck with us on computer access and equipment and such." "Damn, I wish you'd taken the Chief job, Don." Cindy said wistfully. "You're just angling for my Commander slot, arentcha?" I asked her with a grin and a wink. Tanya laughed, and Cindy rolled her eyes. "Oh well, that's spilt milk now." I said, not really sorry. "They're already going through the final rounds on selection on that. And the good news is that the new Chief will be able to keep Brownlee on a leash, since the Chief traditionally watches over administration as much if not more than operations." "And speaking of Brownlee, don't worry about him, Cindy. If he starts fucking with us, he'll regret it. By the way... here's a place you can tell Julie Newton to start looking..." I told her where Julie could start looking. "I'll bet you already have this thing solved." said Cindy. "Nope." I said. "But with good people like you guys helping me, it won't be long." "Don, can I ask you a question?" Tanya asked, her use of my first name suggesting that this would be an 'inside baseball' type of question. I nodded and she said "This Silverfish case... I can understand using it for training purposes, and we might even get a break and solve it and Paulina or the FBI can use the information... but you seem to really be into it. What do you think we're going to find that's going to be so helpful?" "I'm not sure." I said. "But I have this feeling that there is going to be something there that will become important to us in the future... and that's it's going to be worth the effort to investigate this old case..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Thank you for seeing us today." said Detective Joanne Cummings, flashing a bright smile at the Assistant Manager of Second National Bank, one Mr. Harkins. She was wearing a Police uniform with light blue shirt and dark blue skirt and high heel black pumps, showing off her shapely calves. Detective Teddy Parker was there also, dressed in a Police light blue shirt, blue pants with light blue piping down the side, and a black light trenchcoat/raincoat, trying to emulate the Iron Crowbar in his outerwear as well as brain power. Mr. Harkins was a short man, putting on weight, his hair graying and thinning on top. He wore glasses on his pudgy face, and his white shirt and red-and-black striped necktie looked like they were trying to choke him. "Certainly. What can I do for you, Officers?" he asked. Teddy Parker spoke. "We're following up on the bank robbery that occurred here a few months ago, and we're investigating to see if there are any common links to the bank heist that occurred some eight years ago. Were you employed here at that time?" "Oh yes." said Mr. Harkins, his voice soft. "I was a loan officer back then. We came into work one morning and the safe was wide open. Nearly $400,000 was taken." "Sir, why did the bank have that much money on hand?" Joanne Cummings asked. "If I recall, we had some big deposits and also a special payroll." said Harkins. "Crown Chemicals had been having trouble with that environmentalist group, and they thought they were about to get another attack some months after the first one that killed all those people. They asked us to secure cash for paying their employees and also paying extra security people." Harkins continued: "We got the money in Monday, it was going to be picked up by Crown on Wednesday. But on Monday night, the thieves broke in and took the money. We were able to get some cash from other banks, including J.P. Goldman Bank and the County Regional Bank branch in Hillside, in Nextdoor County. Our insurance and the FDIC replaced the money over time, of course." "Who knew that shipment of money was coming in?" asked Teddy Parker. "Well, there was our bank officers, of course." said Harkins. "I didn't even know about it until after the robbery. The Crown Chemicals people, at least some of them, had to know. The Police, which were not merged at that time, knew about the threat to Crown, but I don't know if they knew about the special payroll. J.P. Goldman Bank had also gotten in some cash for Crown, so their officers at the time must've known. But they weren't robbed, and we were." "Sir," said Joanne Cummings, "the more recent bank robbery netted about $85,000, if I recall correctly. Did you have extra money on hand for that, as well?" "Yes." said Harkins. "That was mid-November. Many businesses start acquiring extra cash on hand for the Holiday season, and we were starting to accumulate cash for their needs. Certainly not a huge amount, but still above normal. Today we only have about $50,000 in cash on hand." "And who knew you had extra money in the recent attack?" asked Joanne. "Everyone and no one." said Harkins. "By that, I mean that it was routine for us to begin accumulating money, but we did not bring in a huge load of cash at one time. We generally just kept more than normal, rather than send it to the Federal Reserve Bank, starting the first of November. After the Holidays, we'd send back a little more than normal to the Federal Reserve Bank. The businesses generally knew we did this, but wouldn't know any specifics. Our own bank staff would know to some degree, as well. And of course... the other banks in the area were doing the same thing, including J.P. Goldman Bank. They'd know the routine." "So the first bank robbery," said Teddy Parker, "we understand that there was a marking left?" "Oh yes." said Harkins. A fish sign, drawn in silver ink, was left on the wall near the entrance. The FBI was very interested in it at the time, and they really investigated thoroughly. But if they ever succeeded in getting the money back, I never heard about it. The FDIC probably would've claimed it back, anyway, after they made us whole." "But there was no marking during the more recent robbery?" asked Parker. "No, not that anyone found. The burglary several years ago was done at night. The alarm was turned off, they had plenty of time to work, apparently. In the recent robbery, the criminals held us up at gunpoint, then took Luisa Gomez with them. She's still undergoing therapy from what I understand, poor girl." "Yes, very sad." said Joanne Cummings. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Okay," said Jack Muscone as Cindy and I met with him later that afternoon at the FBI offices off Courthouse Square, "you've had me on pins and needles all weekend. Why did the Director give you these cases to look at?" "Pins and needles, eh?" I said, then grinned as I stated my observation of Jack out loud: "And that after obviously getting laid?" Cindy broke out laughing at Jack's laser-beam stare at me. I stifled my own laugh and decided to change the subject by saying: "First, what did he say when you talked to him? I'm sure you asked." Muscone replied "First, he said that there is no classified report on this that he knows about. He's in a position where there is literally nothing that can be hidden from him if he wants to find out about it, so I'm sure he speaks from knowledge there. Then, when I asked him about why he gave you the case and you telling me to guess, he just laughed, then said 'Follow the money.'. I'm not sure what he meant by that." I just smiled. "Want to borrow a crowbar, Jack?" Cindy offered politely, well aware of the game I was playing. "I might just." said Jack. "Or some firewood and a stake." "Okay, okay, I'll tell you." I said, pretending to be 'persuaded'. "What he meant was the amount of the money stolen is in itself a clue. Well over $300,000 per hit is a huge amount. It means that each bank was hit and burgled at a time when they had a very large amount of cash on hand. Now it's not normal for banks to even have that much in cash every day, and they don't keep such money on hand very long even if they did have reason to have it for a little bit of time. So that means that the timing of each crime was prodigious... 28 times over. So what does that tell you?" Muscone thought about it. "They had inside knowledge?" "Something like that." I replied. "They definitely had knowledge. The question is: from where did they obtain that knowledge?" "Like I said, they'd have to get information from the inside." "But from 28 different places, developing that many contacts, and at banks that carried that much money... and then on top of that, they hit right at the time the money was there... every time?" I said. "I would guess it means they have some kind of scout team that got the information ahead of time, maybe cased the joints as well?" Muscone offered, surprising me at how he was flailing mentally over this. "Silverfish is likely only one person, probably a gang of no more than three or four." I said. "He or they would not want to trust too many people, and how would those scouts know where to look and which joints to case?" "Okay, I admit it, I'm stumped." Jack said. I think he just didn't want to play the game any longer. "Cindy?" I asked, offering her a chance to get the answer. "I'm not a Troy," she said, "but just as a wild-ass guess: from what I've been reading of the case, they had to have inside information each time." Cindy said. "So they're either part of a network of some sort, or they had contacts-- oh, good grief, of course: Moriarty." "Very good, Crowbar 2." I said, and I was indeed extremely impressed with her. "Yes, if I were Silverfish, I'd contact a... Consultant of Crime." I said. "Someone who has a large web, many contacts, and could get the information at each of those locations at the correct times... for a fee or percentage, of course." "Ohhhh..." said Jack, his eyes lighting up. "The 'real Moriarty', as you've been calling him. So you think Silverfish got his information from your Moriarty." "Yes." I said. "And if our Moriarty is involved, I suspect the Director thought I might get some kind of clue to him by reviewing all these cases. Yes, the Director thinks he's Wargrave, and that is his and your target, but that's okay... we're still working on the same goal." "Have you found anything in any of this?" Muscone asked. "I went through everything this weekend also, just so that we could talk about it and maybe I'd see something. But there's no real pattern that I can find." "Nor did the FBI's best analysts and codebreakers." I said. "And there may simply not be a pattern for us to find. But I will say this: even though Silverfish really zigged and zagged over the landscape, he still eventually went from Northwest to Southeast in the United States. So maybe there's a pattern of the way the money was distributed, and then the criminals hit the banks. I've got my computer and money people searching for that." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "So that's all we got from him." said Joanne Cummings in my office. Teddy was in the chair next to her, while Cindy sat on the sofa behind them, quietly listening in. "Okay, guys, good work." I said. "So did anything stand out to either of you during your interview with Mr. Harkins?" "No sir." said Joanne. "He seemed sincere, answered the questions readily. He... he did mention J.P. Goldman Bank several times, and wondered why his bank was robbed and Goldman's wasn't." Silverfish Ch. 01 "I did think of one thing, sir." said Teddy. "We know there was a lot of money taken during the first crime, but it was interesting to me that there was a bit more than normal during the second one. Even though the crimes were very different in the way they were executed, it occurred to me that they had a source of information that might have been the same both times." "You guys are getting good." I said. "I see Lieutenant Ross has trained you well." "No, it's not me." said Cindy. "We're all learning from the Master. That would be you, Commander." "Keep it up and I'll have an MCD full of Master Detectives." I said, smiling. "And that's exactly what I want." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Robert 'Brown Nose' Brownlee was drinking a bourbon at the bar of the Hyatt Hotel on the north side of Town. At that moment, a woman walked in and they made eye contact. Brownlee went over to the booth where the woman had seated herself. The Iron Crowbar would've noticed that she seated herself to be virtually invisible to others in the room; Brownlee did not notice and sat down, easily noticeable to the bar's clientele. "So, Robert," the woman said, "the Sheriff was very unhappy with you." "It wasn't all bad." said Brownlee. "I got I.T., most of I.T., away from Troy. That had to hurt." The woman hid her annoyance. "I came here to tell you to watch yourself, Robert. Harold Malone liked you, and he ultimately got you to where you are now, where you could do some good for us. But you're no good to us if you get fired." "I'm not going to get fired and you know it." said Brownlee. "The Police Union has my back all the way. Besides, I've got to establish my territory and defend my turf. Troy needs to be put in his place, as powerful as such a place might be. The Police Union needs him... 'softened up'... or else he'll be too hard to contain." "I have to go." said the woman, seeing that she'd have better luck working with a brick wall. "Again, Robert, you need to be careful and circumspect. The man you're agitating destroyed a rogue cell of the CIA; if you think you're jack shit compared to him, you'd better think again. Even Harold said so." "Harold is no longer here. I am... and I'm the same rank as Troy. I have power, too, and don't you forget that." Robert said defensively. He failed to notice the merest look of insulted anger on the woman's face. "Yeah, right." the woman said. "Robert, you wouldn't know how to properly use power if it came with an instruction manual. Now keep a low profile for a while." Just then there was a commotion in the hotel lobby outside the bar. Robert noticed that State Senator Katherine Woodburn had just walked in with a small entourage, and was being welcomed by a pathetic sycophant of a hotel manager. "Now there is someone who knows something about power, Robert." the woman said, her voice full of admiration. "Senator Woodburn is giving a speech here in a couple of hours to the local chapter of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce. I'll use the disruption to slip out. Remember my words, Robert." The woman got up and left. "I'll show you." Robert said to his drink and the empty booth the woman had left behind. "And I'll show Troy, too. This will be my Police Department, and soon..." Part 6 - Bad People, Hot Sex "Unnnh!" the Rev. Robert Patterson groaned as he repeatedly pistoned his throbbing cock into the beautiful blonde prostitute beneath him, feeling her push her ass up to meet every hard thrust of his meat into her sodden depths. She was the hottest professional fuck Patterson had ever had, and he understood why Jonas Oldeeds enjoyed hiring this woman for sexual pleasure. For herself, the woman looked over at the opening in the curtains, seeing the lights of the City from this sixth-floor vantage point. She pretended to enjoy the fucking that this 'Man of the Lord' was giving her, feeling nothing but derision for the man and his sheer hypocrisy. At least to her knowledge he didn't rape underage girls like Oldeeds regularly did, she thought to herself, not having the knowledge that Patterson was taking up right where his predecessor and mentor had left off in child trafficking, and that if she had known about it, she would be dead like Nicole Stanton, a.k.a. Dawn Starrett, was. "Oh God, I'm about to come... oh God, OH GOD!" Patterson gasped as he felt the pleasure build and then break like an overflowing dam. Spurts of hot man-lava fired from his engorged cockhead, only to be caught by the membrane of the condom in which his penis was sheathed. Cherie felt the man collapse on top of her, trying to catch his breath. Then he rolled off onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "God, baby, you are absolutely the best fuck in the world." Patterson said. Meaning it as a compliment, he added "No wonder you're the hottest escort in the City, and you're worth every penny." "You're too kind." Cherie said sardonically. Yes, she was drop-dead gorgeous and her tight pussy was velvet fire for any man who could pay the exorbitant price to sink his cock into it. But Patterson's words reminded her of what she really was: a whore. High-class, expensive, the best at her craft, but in the end still a whore. "So, Robert," she said, trying to sound sleepy and soothing, "when do you take over the Ministries and make them your own?" "Soon, babe." Patterson said. "Soon, very soon. We've just about got that bitch Vicki Oldeeds boxed out. And I still have the final ace to play: proof that she murdered that young CIA agent Mike. If she doesn't play ball, I'm going to send what I have to Laura Fredricson... and that will be the end of Vicki Oldeeds." "And that'll leave you in charge of the Ministries." Cherie said, snuggling into Robert. "You'll have the position and respect you deserve." "Yes, I will." Patterson said, letting some of his smugness show. "And if you want to come along, you'll have to become the reformed prostitute that found the Lord, but there's a place for you with me... and my wife. She thinks you're hot and she loves to eat pussy. She really wants to eat out that police bitch that used to do those muscle competitions, the one that is the Iron Crowbar's partner." "Your wife is a hot woman herself." said Cherie, not really interested but pretending to be. "She can get face deep in my muff any time she likes." With cameras rolling, catching it all, she thought silently to herself... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Ohhhhh, God, you are so fucking big!" gasped Vicki Oldeeds in her apartment in Midtown as the young Satyr slowly sank his nine inch cock into Vicki's steaming snatch. "God, I love fucking your big, young cock!" The Satyr said nothing but began pumping Vicki with steady and increasingly harder, deeper strokes. The other young man in the room, another Satyr that was a friend of the first one, watched the couple deeply fucking on the bed, slowly jacking his cock to prepare it for action. Vicki looked over and noticed his huge organ was hard. "Fuck me dogstyle, baby." she said to the man fucking her. He withdrew with a loud *slurp* and Vicki turned over onto her hands and knees. The Satyr reinserted his huge tool into Vicki's cunt from the rear as the second Satyr got up. He stood at the edge of the bed right in front of the blonde woman's face. She opened her mouth and he inserted his meat, letting it slide past her lipsticked lips, careful not to go too deep and choke her. He began to fuck her face in time and rhythm to his buddy pumping her twat. It would be long minutes later before the Satyr emptied his balls into Vicki's clutching cunt, followed moments later by the second man shooting his large load down her throat as she greedily swallowed every drop and jacked his cock hard to get as much as she could. Finally, they settled onto the bed in three sweaty heaps of satiated flesh. Vicki told the second Satyr to take a shower. After the left, she turned to the first man and asked "Okay, what do you have?" "There is a lot of chatter in the underground." the Satyr said. "Robert Patterson is about to make his move against you. He apparently has something on you, but I don't know what it is. My Mistress knows, but she's keeping things to herself." The Satyr's Mistress was Rita, the lovely, statuesque blonde that ran 'Lashes and Lace', the BDSM club south of the University. "I see." Vicki said, the gears turning in her mind. She knew what Patterson had, or what he thought he had, on her. "Okay, you and your friend had better get back. Just lay low for a while so you don't get caught, but find out anything you can." She got up and went to her purse, procuring money that was rolled into a tight wad and secured by a rubber band. She tossed it to the guy and told him to clean up and get his ass out. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Pastor Fred Bundy was in the same hotel but a different room than his boss and mentor, Robert Patterson. He was pumping his small penis in and out of the ass of the skanky young Latina prostitute that he'd been provided by Patterson. His overweight body was pouring sweat as he vigorously sodomized the woman until he felt the painful ecstasy of his release approaching. He did not try to fight it, but let it all go, firing his climax into the condom. After finishing, he withdrew his penis from the girl's posterior, carefully removing the soiled condom and flushing it down the toilet, then thoroughly washing his hands. By the time he came back into the room, the girl was gone... and so was his wallet from the bedside table. Damn! he muttered to himself, thinking of the hassle this was going to be. He had no idea that this was the least of his problems. The secreted cameras had recorded everything, and he was now in the power of Henry R. Wargrave... Part 7 - The Return of The Silverfish Tuesday morning, March 10th. As usual, at 7:00am it was time for the lovely Bettina! "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the redhead into her microphone. "Channel Two News has learned that the Town & County Council will be discussing the structure of the Police Department in their meeting tonight! The Police Union has filed a grievance, stating that Commander Donald Troy should no longer be in charge of the I.T. Department. Commander Troy was originally hired by the Police Department in the capacity of I.T. Supervisor nearly three years ago, and never relinquished those duties as he rose in the ranks and solved many difficult crimes." "She's buttering you up, Commander." Joanne Cummings said. "Whatever's next, it's going to be bad." Joanne was becoming a good 'Bettina-reader'. "However, Commander Troy was also the I.T. Supervisor of the Campus Police and has since given up those duties." continued Bettina. "Furthermore, the Police Union has stated that the I.T. Department should be under the pervue of the new Deputy Chief, Robert Brownlee. Commander Brownlee is in charge of administration and the properties of the Police Department, says the Union, and as such should be in charge of I.T." Bettina went on: "The Council has several ideas to discuss, and will resolve the situation in tonight's meeting. Channel Two News has learned that Sheriff Allgood has nominated Lieutenant Marc Aaron to be promoted or brevetted to Captain and to take over the Physical Properties division of the Police Force, which would directly control the important I.T. Department." "The 'Brown Nose' wanted Forsyth to be Physical Properties." said Lt. Tanya Perlman. "He's not going to like it if Aaron is put there." For some reason, I felt something over my shoulder. I turned to look, and caught Brownlee looking into the door of MCD from the side hall. He had a look on his face that was part irritation, but part knowing something we didn't know, as if he was getting something over on us. When he saw that I was aware of his presence, he scurried away. "Reminds me of when I first got here." I said to Cindy, who had also caught Brownlee looking in. "When Malone and Ikea would be joking in the hallway, thinking they had something on me." "Yeah..." was all Cindy said, tension behind her ice blue eyes. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * At 8:00am, Sheriff Allgood called me and Cindy Ross into his office. "I have Sheriff Sorrells of Coltrane County on speaker." he said to us. "Go ahead, Sheriff." "Yes, Sheriff," said the Sheriff on the other end of the line, his voice betraying his easygoing, country-boy, laid-back style, "I was wondering if we could borrow your officers that are SBI Reservists, and have them come down here for a few hours. We've had a bank robbery overnight at County Regional Bank here in Buford." Allgood nodded at us, so I said "Sure, Sheriff, we're on our way now." With that, Cindy and went to change clothes, into black pullover sweaters with sewn-in SBI reserve badges on the front, and khaki pants. Cindy's sweater was tight, and damn did she look good in it, I idly thought to myself. We also wore light jackets with some light armor that had sewn-in SBI reserve badges and 'SBI' in large letters on the back. "You look good in black, Commander." Cindy said. "You should wear black more often." "You look good in black, too, Cindy." I said. "Always best to look damn good when we go visit our Coltrane County friends, yes?" Cindy laughed. We were in my silver Police SUV with its light armor and bulletproof windows. Sheriff Allgood was as skittish as Chief Griswold had been about his crowbar-wielding officers driving around unprotected, and so use of the vehicle outside of the County was authorized at the very highest levels. Just after crossing the County line, I pulled over to the side of the road and we logged in as SBI Reservists using iPhone apps. We drove past the road leading to Dr. P. Harvey Eckhart's 'The Vision' World Headquarters, and a bit farther down the road was the State Asylum. "Oh, look! They're doing construction there." said Cindy. "Yes," I said, "the women have been moved out, and a wing is being built for them at State Women's Prison in Madison County. This facility is being expanded to house more male prisoners, and it will become a regular prison as well as mental institution for male patients." Driving on down into the town of Buford, we went to County Regional Bank. There were already three police and sheriff cars there. Sheriff Sorrells and Deputy Strait came out to greet us, and it did not take much detection to see that Deputy Strait was enamored with Cindy, especially when she was wearing black and looking fine... "I think this one is really going to interest you, Commander." said Sheriff Sorrells as we went into the bank and towards the open vault. As I stepped inside, I saw some writing on the inside of the round vault door. The words shocked me: It said "Hello Iron Crowbar! Love, Silverfish." A drawing of a line in a loop, looking like a fish, with an eye inside, drawn in black outline and filled in with silver Sharpie, was underneath the words. "Looks like this criminal wants your personal attention, Commander." said Sheriff Sorrells in his drawl accent. "That makes him stupid, if you ask me." "I could not agree more, Sheriff." said Cindy as she examined the writing. "What do you make of it, Commander?" "Don't know yet." I said. "How much was taken, Sheriff?" "About $15,000 in cash, and several thousand in Treasury bonds. We've alerted the Federal Reserve in the City and the FBI about that." said Sorrells. "Yes you have." said a voice behind us. I turned to see FBI Special Agent in Charge Jack Muscone walking up, with Special Agent Lindy Linares in tow. "Hello, Commander, quelle suprise to see you here." said Jack. "Well, the perp did leave me a calling card." I replied, pointing to the inscription. Muscone's eyes widened in surprise as I said "We have a leak somewhere, Agent Muscone. This cannot be a coincidence." "Geez, we sure do." Jack said, very softly. "Think it's on our end or your end?" "Don't know yet. No data." I said, continuing to peer at the drawing and the surroundings. A Crime Lab team from my County was invited down to assist in gathering evidence, per the contract between our counties. J.R. Barnes led the small group, which did not include Christina Cho. They took fingerprints, and also took prints of the bank employees as control references. While they worked, I interviewed the bank president, Mr. Shapiro. Mr. Shapiro was a short man with and a ring of brown hair around the sides and back of his head, the top being bald. He was Italian and while he spoke English well, he could hardly speak without making a gesticulation of some kind. He was wearing a brown suit and tan shirt, which looked kind of strange to me, for some reason. "No, we've never had an overnight break-in like this." said Mr. Shapiro, speaking fast as if he were a radio announcer. In fact, he was the radio announcer for the Coltrane County Little League games on the local radio station. "We've had two robberies at the teller windows in the past twenty years. Why our bank?" "I don't know, Mr. Shapiro." I said. "Have you or your staff noticed anyone loitering around the bank, casing the joint?" "No, nothing like that, and Buford is a small town; we tend to notice things that are out of place. You can ask my staff if any of them saw anything strange, of course." said Shapiro. "So County Regional Bank has branches here, in Hillside in Nextdoor County, and up in our Town in our County, is that not right?" I asked. "Yes, and a fourth branch in the county southwest of here, between the rivers, in the town of West Point which borders the State Line. It seems off the beaten path, since the highway to Midtown goes southeast, but they've got several industries on one river or the other, and so that branch does well." "Just one other question." I said. "Have you or any of your other branches had occasion to have a larger than normal sum of money in your vault at any time recently, or were you or any of them planning to have more money in the near future?" "No, not at all." said Mr. Shapiro. "We got some extra Treasury bonds, because they're given as gifts for Mother's Day and for school graduations coming up in the next few months, but no extra cash of any significance." Interviews with the staff, all longtime employees and Buford residents, proved fruitless in gleaning any information. I also got a call on my cellphone from SBI Deputy Director Conlan, chief of the SBI Reserve program. He'd seen me and Cindy log in, and wanted to know what was going on. I reported what I knew about the bank heist, including that the possible perp had already drawn the interest of the FBI. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * We were at lunch at the "Buford '57 Diner", the one that had really good food, though Jack said it did not quite beat the double cheeseburgers at the Cop Bar in Town... the cheeseburgers that had been named after him. Still, we enjoyed the delicious food as we discussed the case. Sheriff Sorrells and Deputy Straight had accompanied me and Cindy and the FBI team, and I realized that the portly Sheriff was far sharper than the appearance he gave. Indeed, I was quite sure he cultivated that 'hick' appearance as much as he could, to throw off criminals that thought they could outwit him. "Think we'll ever catch this guy?" asked the Sheriff in his Southernly drawl. "I have hopes, Sheriff. I have hopes." I replied. "It's obvious that this criminal had you in mind when he did this, Commander." asked the Sheriff. "Now why do you suppose that is?" I felt Jack peering at me. "Sheriff, there was a series of bank heists, years ago." I said. "The Statutes of Limitations have run out, but the Second National Bank in our County was one of those banks that was hit. After the more recent robbery at our Second National Bank a few months ago I had occasion to begin looking at the previous heists, and obviously the perp has found that out. Why or how, I'm not sure. But if I find that out, I think we may find this 'Silverfish' guy and so solve not only this crime, but several others." Silverfish Ch. 01 "And that is why the FBI is here, also?" asked the Sheriff, peering sideways at Jack Muscone. "Yes and no." said Muscone. "The FBI did take interest in those previous bank burglaries, but on this occasion we simply were on our way to consult with the Commander about some crimes in his jurisdiction, and we were told he was coming down here. So we just altered our route, and here we are." Muscone's story was flimsy, I realized, and I wondered if Sheriff Sorrells was going to accept it. "Not much happens in this county," said Sorrells, "except internal corruption amongst our politicians and some drug use amongst our teenagers. So why hit our bank here, even to get Commander Troy's attention? Why not hit the branch in his County, or one of the other banks there?" "That's a good question, Sheriff." I said, cutting off a possible reply from coming out of Muscone's mouth. "And I think the answers will come if and when we catch the perp that did this. At any rate, this has been a delicious lunch, very delicious, but we're going to have to head back home now. I'll send you a report with any findings we come up with." Part 8 - Exploration of Ideas At 3:00pm I met in Classroom 'E' with Myron Milton, Mary Mahoney, Cindy Ross, Tanya Perlman, Teddy Parker, Joanne Cummings, Martin Nash, Jack Muscone and Lindy Linares, and Sheriff Allgood. I had brought Tanya and Martin up to speed on the bank heists before the meeting, and now filled everyone in on current developments. "The SBI is not taking over the bank case in Coltrane County." I said, finishing my narrative. "Cindy and I will continue to work it on the State's behalf, in cooperation with the local authorities there. The FBI is here because of the old 'Silverfish' crimes, of course." Martin Nash said, almost musingly, as an afterthought, "Silverfish... now why in the world would someone name himself after a dirty little insect?" "Maybe there is a Christian element to it." replied Joanne Cummings, herself a practicing Christian with that 'wholesome' image, which runs in her family, I thought to myself... and then I thought some more about what she and Martin had just said... but was broken out of my reverie by Jack Muscone. "I called my boss." said Muscone. "Both he and I are very concerned about the obvious leak here. He's beginning an investigation on the FBI's side, but he wants you guys to consider that the leak came from this end and he'd like you to investigate." "Who knew about it?" asked Sheriff Allgood. He'd been the leader of Internal Affairs before running for Sheriff; this kind of thing was right up his alley. "The people you see in here," I said, "ADA Patterson, Lt. Croyle, and Julie Newton in Vice. Where is Julie, by the way?" "She's working with Teresa and ADA Stiles on a drug case, which is coming under deadline for trial." replied Cindy. "I told her to concentrate on that and not worry about this." "Okay, good." I said. "We'll come back to the leak in a minute. Right now, I want to know if Myron and Mary found anything out." "No sir." said Myron Milton. "The FBI cooperated with us, and gave us some of their studies after the news of today's bank job came out." "What about serial numbers of the money?" asked Jack Muscone. "Did anyone try to follow the money that way from any of the 30 heists?" "Yes sir." said Myron. "But none of the money on deposit was ever issued straight from the Federal Reserve, nor the Mints or big distribution banks. So there's no block of numbers we can trace." "Whaa????" I gasped. "None of those jobs?" Everyone turned their attention to me, even as I was slipping into a reverie. A moment later I came out of it, realizing that I was in a very silent room of inquisitive Law Enforcement people. "That is indeed a strangeness people." I said, feeling my mind still being pulled away. "Okay, back to the leaks." I said, trying to draw off attention until I could make further inquiries of that important clue without having to explain, and that explanation possibly leaking out. Even Cindy couldn't get in a word edgewise as I continued: "I first got this Friday, and didn't discuss it with my TCPD Detectives nor anyone else, until Monday morning. The Coltrane County crime happened Monday night or Tuesday morning. Silverfish committed that crime for one reason only: to get my attention, most likely as an attempt to spit in my face." "I just need to say this." said Muscone, "The Director told only me, and I told no one else at all. I even compiled the data in the folder myself. Now if you want to think that someone bribed me with a double-cheeseburger and got me to leak, go ahead; but I assure you I don't even know who I could tell that would lead to a bank heist to get your attention, Don." "Good points." I said. "So have your people check out your computer lines to see if they're hacked, your boss's lines to see if they're hacked, and ask your boss who else he might have mentioned it to or had compile the information for. I'm sure his secretary is loyal, but one never knows what was overheard." "If it is on the Federal side," said Agent Lindy Linares, "then there is only one person I'd suspect-- oh, I don't know if we can talk about that..." She turned to Jack Muscone with a silent look. "Well," Jack said, "cat's out of the bag, or soon will be with these crowbar-wielding people around. Guys, let's do try to keep this under our collective hats, but the FBI has been deeply investigating the billionaire Henry R. Wargrave for the past few months. We think he's been involved in some of the industrial espionage that Don has uncovered, and we have been interdicting some of his international enterprises. I can't say any more on that, but the bottom line is that he might need money, and might be behind the bank heists before and the one last night. He would also have reason to 'tweak' Don, fitting into the narrative." "So Wargrave is our first suspect here?" asked Sheriff Allgood. "I think we have to consider it." said Lindy. "Don? Are we barking up the wrong tree?" "Who knows?" I replied. "But Wargrave has been avoiding me for months, not trying to get in my face. I don't see him as the original Silverfish, but maybe he did have something to do with this Coltrane County heist." Joanne Cummings said "Commander, can I ask a question?" "Of course." I replied. Joanne said "I'm wondering about this amount of money that's in these banks when they're hit. It's almost uncanny, especially that someone knew of it every single time. But also: what events would cause having this amount of cash on hand?" "Very good thinking!" I said, very impressed. "So what events did you think of?" "Something like rock concerts in those places at those times?" Joanne said. Everyone nodded and murmured. "So much for that myth about dumb blondes." Cindy said brightly. "Great thoughts, Joanne!" Cindy was very pleased with the young Detective, as was I. "Myron, something for you and Mary to check out for correlations." I said. "That's an idea," said Tanya, "But many of the banks hit weren't in large city areas, which is where most concerts of that type occur." "True, but it's a thought, and a good one." I said. "Joanne gets the gold star today. Okay guys, let's wrap this up. I'm sure the Sheriff would like to see us working on crimes rather than sitting here talking about old cases." "I continue to be amazed at all of you." Daniel said. "Why anyone would want to commit a crime in this County is beyond me..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * I called Myron Milton into my office and asked if he'd be willing to come to the Mountain Nest and work with me on something, even if we had to work through the night. He said that he was, provided pizzas were available. I told him he was getting good at extracting pizzas out of me. So Laura brought in pizzas, and after eating and getting to know Bowser, Mary and Laura went off to talk about Mary's (and Myron's) upcoming wedding plans while Myron and I amassed the data we needed. As things formed up, Myron began to catch on. At 1:30am, Wednesday March 11th, Myron said "My God, Commander, you've got it. You found the connection!" Bowser woke up with something of a yip, looking at us with curiosity. "Yes." I said. "We've got to be careful about leaks, which is why I asked you to come here so we could use Laura's secure lines. But yes, we've got it." I could not resist a fist pump. Bowser wagged his tail, knowing that something was making me happy. I petted him on the head. "Yes, Bowser, we got it!" "I think you're happy with yourself, darling." I heard a voice behind me say. Laura was coming up behind us, as was Goth Girl Mary. "I have to admit," I said, "this is like finding that brilliant, beautiful chess move that wins the game and lives for all time. Yes, I'm happy with myself for this one..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Come in, Austin, come in." said Henry Wargrave on Tuesday evening, March 10th. He was sitting behind his desk in his office. The lights were dimmed, and it was possible to see the lights of the City through the window, stretching out to the horizon of the night. Austin L. Murphy came in, armed with a briefcase full of several folders. Wargrave merely pointed at a chair for Murphy to sit in, and after he sat down he took those folders out and put them on the desk. "Several things, sir." said Murphy. "First, football booster Tom Riordan and his wife Janet have formally separated. They've been having marital issues for a few months now. No divorce has been filed as of yet." "That's unfortunate for the University's football program." said Wargrave. "Janet was an asset to the recruiting program." he added drily. The redhead Janet Dixon Riordan's greatest asset was her tight, sweet pussy, which she used to sheath young football recruits' cocks. Nothing other booster wives at the University and other schools did, but Janet was one very hot woman." "Second, I received some information from our sources at University Hospital, after being alerted to it by Deputy Chief Brownlee." said Murphy. "It seems that Police Lieutenant Ross had a lung inflammation of her wound from last summer, and she will be unable to run in the triathlon this coming summer." Wargrave nodded, then said thoughtfully "I still do not understand how she was able to survive that attack, and how she remains alive. She is as fortunate as the Iron Crowbar." Wargrave did not mention out loud that he had been an integral part of the attempt to procure Ned for the Corrigan Cell, and that he had supplied the weapons for the raid, the weapons that had so grievously wounded Cindy Ross. Austin Murphy did not need to hear it; he also knew that truth. "Yes sir." Murphy said. "Third, and possibly most important: there was a bank burglary in Coltrane County, and the Iron Crowbar and his partner Ross were called in as SBI Reservists to investigate it. The FBI also came in to take a look. Lot of firepower for just a bank heist in a rural county, wouldn't you say, sir?" "Possibly." said Wargrave. "Have you contacted our police sources about it?" "Yes sir." said Murphy. "One of our sources says that the Iron Crowbar had his MCD team begin investigating some past bank burglaries by someone known as 'The Silverfish'. It appears this recent Coltrane County job was by this same Silverfish. I'm still working on getting more accurate details." "I see." said Wargrave, then realized his seeming disinterest might give away the knowledge he already had of the Silverfish crime. "Er, make sure to let me know of anything you find out about that." "I will, sir." said Murphy. "And what I do know is that Agent Muscone of the FBI has taken special interest in the case... the chatter is that he and his superiors are trying to find a link between this 'Silverfish'... and you, sir." Henry Wargrave nodded, trying not to let his shock show on his features. "I see." he said. "It ties in with what's going on." Realizing that he needed to inform his lieutenant of his situation, Wargrave added "Austin, there are some things you need to know. I have become aware of efforts by certain... 'unfriendly entities'... to restrict my activities and to investigate my role in some of my foreign enterprises. My problem is not so much Jack Muscone, though he is a pesky mosquito. My real problem is the CIA, particularly one of its Deputy Directors within the Directorate of Science and Technology. Apparently my little visit to her office did not sit well with her." "Yes sir." said Murphy. "What do you want to do about the situation?" "Not a damn thing." said Wargrave. "Not a God damned thing. That house fire that nearly killed her and her family has riled up not only her, but her husband the Iron Crowbar as well. She's dangerous, but she plays by the rules. He flat out does not care, and that is a very scary thing." After a pause, Wargrave looked out the window over the City and said "A very scary thing." To be continued. For 'extra credit', any ideas on what the Silverfish bank heists are all about? Tune in next time... Silverfish Ch. 02 The chronological order of my stories is as follows: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Teresa's Summer Race, The Trilogy series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Hot Wives Investment Club series, Seriously Inconvenienced series, Case of the Paper Trail series, Christmas Mystery Theater, The Porno Set Mystery series, The Medical Murder Mystery series, The Eightfold Fence series, Pale Morning Light series. Silverfish, Ch. 01-02 Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. ***** Part 9 - The Correlation "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the lovely redhead reporterette as she stood in front of the local branch of County Regional Bank on the morning of Wednesday, March 11th. "Channel Two News is following up on the story of the bank robbery at the County Regional Bank branch in Coltrane County. Despite the cooperation with detectives from this County's Police Force, there are no new leads in the case. However, Channel Two News has learned that the bank robber may have been someone known to the FBI in the past as 'The Silverfish', who would leave a silver Christian Fish symbol at the scenes of his crimes." "I'm beginning to feel like Chief Griswold." said Daniel Allgood, who was sipping coffee behind me and Cindy and the rest of the MCD team. "How the fuck did she get that information?" I shrugged, knowing I wasn't the leak, idly wondering who was. "In other news," shouted Bettina, "The Reverend Robert Patterson has confirmed that he will be the guest speaker at First Baptist Church this Sunday! People in the Town and County are excited, as this is the first big appearance by the protégé of the Reverend Jonas Oldeeds in our County. Of course the murder of Reverend Oldeeds here nearly two years ago still remains unsolved by the Town & County Police!" "Geez, nice little shot at us, there." said Joanne Cummings. "Commander, think you'll ever solve that one?" "My red crowbar suggests that I will never get a conviction for that crime." I said. Joanne missed Cindy's pointed, almost glaring look at me, as Cindy knew the real meaning of my words and knew just where the metal of my first red crowbar had come from: the melted-down rifle that had been used to exterminate the late Evangelist. I continued: "Okay, everyone will be coming to Classroom 'E' when our FBI friends arrive. I have some new information for you." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * I swept Classroom 'E' for bugs, then allowed everyone to come in at 8:15am. I also had the device working that prevented I.A. and any other recording devices from working properly. Present were the same persons as the meeting the afternoon before, with the addition of Vice Detective Julie Newton. The doughnuts disappeared quickly as Myron set up his laptop to make a presentation on the screen. "Okay," I said as everyone settled in with their coffee and doughnuts, "here are the Silverfish bank heists, not including the one yesterday." Red discs filled the screen on the wall, which showed a projection of a map of the United States. "Okay, Myron, have those dots appear in order of the crimes." I said. Myron had already prepared, and red dots began popping up one by one until they were all there." "Okay, Myron, show the blue dots in chronological order." I said, intentionally cryptically. The map cleared, and then a series of blue discs began popping up. "Virtually the same." Cindy observed. "What gives?" I smiled as I said "Okay, Myron, have the blue and red dots appear together, chronological order." A blue dot and then a red dot appeared, very close together, followed by another blue dot then red dot next to each other, then another and another until 28 blue dots were there, and 30 red dots. "The two extra red dots," I said, "are the two heists where cash was not stolen but the safe deposit boxes were burgled, and there was no correlating blue-dot event for them. I have to give Joanne and Myron a great deal of credit for this map, as what they said yesterday triggered some thoughts in my head, leading to these correlated red and blue dots." "Okay, Don," said Cindy, "you're going to be seeing red and blue crowbars swinging at you if you don't tell us what this means." Everyone laughed. "Okay, okay." I said. "Apologies for the dramatics. The blue dots... are appearances by the Reverend Jonas Oldeeds at large religious events and rallies during the three year time period of the bank heists. The money was the offerings given and collected at the events, which were stored in the banks that were robbed." "Oh my God! you got it!" Tanya Perlman exclaimed. Applause followed, which candor compels me to admit that I enjoyed; indeed, I'd nailed this one to the wall. "Thank you." I said. "Again, Myron saying that no bulk money deposits nor sequential bill numbers were on hand showed that the deposits were likely cash gathered at some big event, and Joanne mentioning rock concerts got me to thinking about just what events might be correlated. Joanne and Martin also mentioned about the Silverfish name, and that despite the insect name the silver fish symbol might indeed be Christianity-related. And that led me to thinking about the late Reverend Jonas Oldeeds." I continued: "Oldeeds would go on speaking tours in bites at a time, and he did them more often in the days of the Silverfish crimes than he did in his last few years. In fact, when he came here that time he was shot dead, that was more of an exception than the norm for him; he'd not been touring nearly as much during the last five years of his life." "Oldeeds would appear at events, and of course they took up offerings." I said. "If you think about it... fifteen thousand people at an event, which is about the average Oldeeds would get, giving an average of twenty dollars each... would yield about $300,000, give or take." "The average amount of the bank heists." said Lindy, awe and admiration in her voice. "Yes." I said. "And while sometimes Oldeeds spoke at sports arenas or stadiums that could handle that kind of cash, he also spoke at places that couldn't... so they had to deposit that much cash in a local bank's safe, then they'd have some mechanism to transfer the deposits to their own bank accounts. But during these three years, those banks would be burgled the very night after the rally offerings were counted and deposited, before the banks could get the cash to a more secure location." "Four hundred years ago, you'd have been burned at the stake." said Jack Muscone, in the form of a quotation. "Why do I keep having cause to say that over and over? God, that's good work, Don! So you think this is someone within the Oldeeds organization?" "Quite possibly." I replied. "In each case, the Oldeeds people never lost their money, they usually had a cashier's check beforehand, or a wire transfer. In the cases they hadn't been secured by the completion of the deposit, they were made whole by the banks, who were then made whole by their insurance and/or the FDIC. Ultimately, neither the bank nor the Oldeeds Group were harmed; the insurance or the taxpayer footed the bill. "It is possible that the Oldeeds Group never knew that someone was following them around, but knowing what we know about them, I suspect that someone within the organization, if not the full organization itself, knew full well what was happening." I said with a slight amount of sarcasm in my voice. Cindy patted me on the shoulder. "No crowbar beatdowns today." she said. "Wow." "So where do we go from here?" asked Martin Nash. "I have a feeling the Oldeeds people might not be very forthcoming with who worked for them at the time." "True." I said. "We also need to know how the mechanism worked. Obviously the Oldeeds people had to arrange with a bank to count and deposit the cash. "Sir," said Julie Newton, "I can get that information within a few hours, or at least a place to ask. I'll check and see who the financial officers of the Oldeeds Group were from their corporate filings and tax filings, and also see how they worked their cash offerings." 
"They're still likely not going to cooperate with us nor the FBI." said Tanya Perlman. "Let's burn that bridge when we get to it." I said. "Do the research Julie, and let me or Lt. Ross know what you find- yes, Sergeant?" The Duty Desk sergeant had just knocked on the door then peeked inside. "Sorry to disturb your meeting, sir, but we just got an urgent call from Second National Bank. They're saying that one of their bank officers may be missing." "One Mr. Harkins, the assistant manager?" I asked. "Uh, yes sir." the Sergeant said, gaping. "How did you know?" "Not much gets by this man, Sergeant." Cindy Ross said as we all started getting up. "Not much at all." "Not all that hard, Crowbar 2." I said. "I suspect he's connected to the leak leading to this latest Silverfish heist. Funny how that happened after our Detectives interviewed Mr. Harkins..." "Four hundred years ago, Don..." Jack Muscone said, awe in his voice. "Four hundred years ago..." Part 10 - Disappearing Banksters I arrived at Second National Bank with Detectives Parker and Cummings. The president of the bank, one Mr. Wilson, met us in the lobby and brought us to his office. "Mr. Harkins left Monday morning." said the bank president. "Not very long after you police officers interviewed him about the previous robberies. He told his assistant that he had an appointment with the dentist that he'd forgotten to tell her about, and she didn't think much of it when he didn't return for the day. Yesterday morning, his assistant had a phone message for him, barely intelligible, saying he was still recovering from the dental surgery and would not be in for the whole day. This morning, he didn't come in, so we called his cell phone and to his home; no answer on either line. I sent a teller over there, but no one answered her knock, and she peeked into the garage and found that his car was not inside the garage." A quick interview of Mr. Harkins' assistant showed that Mr. Harkins had left almost as soon as my Detectives had left the bank. We listened to the tape of his voice message, and it sounded like a guy who could hardly talk as he said he wouldn't be coming into the office. Obtaining Harkins' cell number, I called Myron and had him run a check on the number, a lack of a warrant notwithstanding. Myron said that the number had been used only once Tuesday morning, pinging from a tower near where his home was, and the number that was called was his own office number, which went to the assistant's recorder. I told Myron to research hard and get the information of any vehicles Harkins owned, and the GPS and other tracking devices therein. I then called Paulina to get a warrant to enter Harkins' home, based upon his disappearance and my assertion that his life might be in danger. The warrant met us, along with Sergeant Rudistan and Sr. Patrolmen Morton and Hicks, at the banker's townhouse, a new development northwest of Town near the road that led to the bypass and also near the River. All the doors were locked, but my red crowbar pried open the garage window on the side of the home, and I scrambled inside. As I'd hoped, the door to the house from the garage was unlocked. I opened the garage door, letting the other officers inside. The uniformed officers made the first sweep of the house, clearing the rooms. "It's empty, Commander!" Rudistan finally called out. "Looks like our boy left in a hurry." Indeed. The bedroom was torn up, clothes everywhere as Harkins had obviously packed in a hurry. Papers were scattered around his desk in the side room; and if he had a personal computer, it was nowhere to be found in the residence. "No clean underwear anywhere." I said as I searched through the chest of drawers and the bedroom closets. "That suggests he left on purpose with the intent of not coming back for a while." "He packed his razor, toothbrush, and any medicines in the cabinets, too." said Joanne Cummings as she surveyed the bathroom, her words confirming my theory. "Nothing left in there." "No blood, no signs of struggle: no furniture displaced, no broken lamps." said Teddy Parker. "Here's his cell phone." I said as I went into his office room, seeing the device mounted on a small square block that was some electronic device. "What is this thing? Speakers?" "No sir." said Parker. "Some kind of clock timer." He pressed a button on it. The cellphone suddenly came to life, dialed a number, and then we heard the same garbled message that had been left on his assistant's phone at the bank. "Wow." I said. "Call Barry Oliver and asked him to consult with us as an Auxiliary Crime Lab Officer on this piece of equipment." Parker got out his cell phone to make the call. "Something's bothering me..." I said, trying to make my memory work. "Oh, that's it. Come this way, Cummings!" I led her back to the garage. "Yes, there's a trickle charger there against the back wall, not being used. What's important is the clean spot amidst the collected dust on the floor next to it. You see that? What do you think that means?" "He recently took something that was next to the trickle charger?" said Joanne. I nodded. She then said "Rectangular shape. A box, maybe?" "C'mon, Joanne," I said, trying to sound humorous, "what do trickle chargers charge?" "Oh, a battery!" Joanne said, her voice almost a squeal. "He took a battery with him!" "Absolutely." I said. "All right, guys... call in a Crime Lab team, though I suspect you won't find anything to go on. Put out APBs on Mr. Harkins at the local, State and Federal levels, emphasize that he might have crossed State lines and that he's in extreme danger." "You think he's in trouble, sir?" asked Sergeant Rudistan. "Worse." I think. "If we don't find him quickly, I fear for his life." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Unbelievable." said the Deputy Director of the FBI as we sat in the FBI's offices in the Federal Building off the Courthouse Square in Town, with Jack Muscone, Lindy Linares and Cindy Ross sitting in the room with us. I had just showed him the graphics of the correlations I'd found between the Silverfish bank heists and the Oldeeds Group tours. I'd emailed him earlier this morning with my findings. What I did not know was that he was in the City, and had helicoptered to Town while I was meeting with my Team and investigating the Harkins disappearance. "So," said the Deputy Director, whose aura of power and competency I could still feel, "I gave this to you thinking you might find a connection to your 'real Moriarty', who I think is Henry Wargrave and that you might find something to connect this to him. I also thought you might get a connection to the industrial espionage. But now it's the Oldeeds Group, eh?" "Well, sir," I said, "I'm not ready to count out anyone just yet. We've just asked the FBI to help us look for the Second National Bank assistant manager that disappeared. I suspect that it is no coincidence that he decided to leave just as soon as my officers talked to him about the Silverfish crimes." "And even I can see that he had an exit strategy planned for some time." said the Director, whose self-deprecation fooled no one present. "Jack, anything on his car?" "Yes sir." said Muscone. "Mr. Milton of the TCPD got us the information on the car and the tracking devices. Harkins went west, crossing State lines, so now the Bureau is the lead in the case. The car is pinging from Hammondsville, the county seat of the county in the next State west of us. We're sending agents to it now." Just then Muscone's cell phone rang, and he left the room to take the call. "Well, Commander," said the Deputy Director, "I know what you think about coincidences. The Coltrane County burglary, and now Harkins disappears. Can't be a coincidence, can it?" I knew he was asking just to get me talking and share my thoughts, and I was okay with doing so: "Actually, sir, it is a coincidence." I replied. "Harkins left yesterday, immediately after my Detectives interviewed him. He ran west immediately. I think your agents are going to find his car in a parking garage in Hammondsville, and another car, an older car without tracing devices, will have left shortly after Harkins's car arrived, having in it a battery that was kept charged by a trickle charger at Harkins' home. He's been on the run for nearly 48 hours now, and he could be anywhere. And as a corollary to that, I do not think he burgled the County Regional Bank, nor is he The Silverfish." I continued: "And that is why I think Silverfish is more than just the Oldeeds Group. Sure they're involved in some way, or at least someone within them is involved, but this recent Coltrane County job suggests to me that the 'real Moriarty' is indeed involved in some way... and was back then." "Why is that?" the Director asked. "He did this last crime just to tweak me." I said. "And in doing so, he may have made a tiny slip." The Deputy Director nodded as he considered my words. Just then Jack Muscone came back in the room. "They found Harkins' car in Hammondsville, on the top deck of a three-story parking garage next to their Farmer's Market complex. The garage did not have a camera covering the entrance and exit, and a street camera a couple of blocks down caught his car being driven in yesterday. A few minutes later a black car exited, but it's too fuzzy to get a good idea of the make and model. It's an old car, though." "If he's not part of this Silverfish gang," said Lindy Linares, "why is he running away?" "Oh, I never said he was not part of any of this." I said. "In fact, his actions suggest a most very guilty conscience on his part. But let me suggest that he may be more involved in the recent robbery, where Luisa Gomez was abducted, than the Silverfish burglary years ago. And I doubt he's part of the Coltrane County job, though he may have alerted someone of police interest in the old heists, which led to the recent crime." "He's part of your Moriarty's gang?" Lindy asked. "Yes, possibly... except I don't think my Moriarty has a 'gang', as we use the word. He's somewhere in the shadows, directing a few people such as Wargrave, who then do the real work for him." "So you say. And now you think this Moriarty is evacuating Harkins?" asked the Director. I saw a gleam in Cindy's eye. "Lieutenant Ross?" I asked. "What's your take on that?" Cindy met my look. "Sir, I suspect Harkins is running from Moriarty as much as anything else." Cindy said. "He was Moriarty's 'boy' in the Second National Bank, probably helped with both crimes nearly a decade apart. But he always knew the shit might hit the fan, and that he might be made the fall guy. At the least, he's taking no chances. So he's long prepared an exit strategy, and we're seeing that exit strategy now. We just happened to stumble on it, our officers just happened to interview him, but he not believing in coincidences either. He panicked and has taken off." Silverfish Ch. 02 I just nodded, agreeing with Cindy completely. "That's why she has a crowbar." I said. "She's good." "Yes, she's good, Don." said the Deputy Director, smiling in his pursed way. "And if I can't get you into the FBI full time, maybe I can get her instead." "I'm not a Troy, sir." Cindy replied. I tried to stifle a laugh, and it came out as something of a whimper. The Deputy Director of the FBI just peered at both of us... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Julie Newton had left me an email that she had some information, so when I got back to Headquarters I went over to Vice with Cindy. Julie was alone in the room. "Whaddya got, Newton?" I asked. "Sir, I got every bit of information I could on the Oldeeds Empire from before the Silverfish burglaries to the present day. They've been very accurate in reporting to the IRS their cash takes at these events... if we assume the amount of cash stolen was the same as the amount they took it, then what they reported is pretty much spot-on. No skimming off the top." "Well, they are a religious organization." I said with no small amount of sarcasm in my voice. "So what else?" "Just this, sir." said Julie. "About six months after the Silverfish crimes ended in Jacksonville, Florida, one of the Oldeeds accountants left the company, the only one to do so within three years of the entire Silverfish era. His name was 'Jesse Keynes'. And what is doubly interesting is where he turned up." She showed me her computer screen. "Acme Consolidated." I said, reading the name. "Well, well, whaddya know. And Keynes is still there, I see?" "Yes sir, in their corporate offices in the City." Julie said. "Excellent work, Julie!" I said. "Lieutenant Ross, we're overdue writing Detective Newton a commendation." "Yes sir. I'll remedy that quickly." Cindy said. We took leave of Julie and went back to my office. "Acme." Cindy said. "Wargrave." "Yes." I said. "And this is going to give us a fun little opportunity to sting Mr. Keynes. Ask Joanne Cummings to step in, would you?" * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * As shift change drew near, Tanya Perlman came down the hall towards the entrance to the tiny offices where she and Teresa were assigned. Inside the room she saw Commander Troy, Lieutenant Ross, Captain Marc Aaron of Physical Properties and a couple of civilians talking. "Oh, Lieutenant Perlman, come right in." I said when I saw her. "Okay guys, we'll talk more later. Let's go forward with it, the Sheriff has approved it." Captain Aaron and the two others left. "Lieutenant Ross, do you think we should tell Miss Perlman about the situation?" I asked. "Yes sir." Cindy said, her face set in stone, giving nothing away. "What's that, sir?" Tanya asked. "I'm tired of you bitching about the size of your office." I said severely. "So I've decided that maybe it'd be best you have no office at all. You'll take a desk in MCD." Fortunately, it did not take Tanya too many seconds to catch on. "Okay, sir... what's the catch? What's really going on?" I grinned. "There are four small offices here, with a hallway running to the outer wall of the building. You have to move out because there will be construction going on. Your office and Teresa's will be expanded into the hallway with a wall separating you, similar to Cindy's office and Lt. Masters' office next door. Part of the other two offices will be converted into entranceways for your and Teresa's offices, and the rest will be storage. Your office won't be too much larger, but they'll be larger- oof!" Tanya had slammed her body into mine as she hugged me with almost brutal hardness. "Oh, thank you! thank you! thank you!" she squealed, her cheeks rosy with happiness. As I showed her and Cindy the architectural drawings, into the anteroom walked Robert Brownlee. "Not so fast, Troy." he said, his voice menacing, but I could see a gleam behind his eyes as if he were enjoying the confrontation and stirring up trouble. "Physical properties comes under me. I haven't approved this, and I'm stopping it immediately." "Oh, you're going to countermand the Town & County Council and the Sheriff?" I asked, my voice not really hiding my contempt and derision for Brownlee. "That's right, watch me." said Brownlee. "What are you going to do about it, Troy?" It was silent in the room. I had my crowbar in my hand, and I saw Brownlee's hand inching towards his holstered gun. Was he really going to try to shoot me? "Get your hand away from your gun, Commander Brownlee." said Cindy. She had hers in her hand, almost completely drawn from its holster. "Who do you think you are, you fucking dyke bitch?" Brownlee snarled at Cindy. At that, I was raising my crowbar and was just about to strike... when Sergeant McCombs suddenly popped into the room. "Everything all right in here, Chief Brownlee?" he asked, his voice a bit too loud. "I don't know." said Brownlee, unable to hide a sneering grin from his face. "This dyke Ross is pulling a gun on me, and Troy looks like he wants to hit me with his crowbar." "Yeah, right." I said. "Get back to work, McCombs. This office is not your duty station. Brownlee, may I strongly advise you to get back to whatever you consider your job to be, also." Brownlee and McCombs left together, grinning. Cindy had re-holstered her gun. "I hope I didn't overstep, Commander." she said. "By the way, do you think I.A. was listening in on that?" "Nope." I said. I pulled out my anti-bugging device. "They may have tried, but unfortunately they didn't hear a thing. Brownlee must think I'm some kind of idiot like McCombs or Steven Ikea. Not that it matters: Curly Goodwin is on our side, and Sheriff Allgood is not going to let Brownlee use and abuse his former department. Okay, guys, about the new offices for my Lieutenants..." "Can he stop the project?" Tanya asked, worry in her voice. "Hell, no." I said. "The project is already underway, and it literally would take an Act of the Council to stop it. And I think they're already regretting promoting that asswipe to the Deputy Chief's job." "He's clearly trying to get something on you, Commander." Cindy said. "And you." I said. "I won't soon be forgetting what he just called you. And it will come back to haunt him." "Which one of us is going to get him first?" Cindy asked, and I realized the purpose and intent underlying her voice. 
"Cindy," I said, "remember that he outranks you. Even if you're right in confronting him or taking him down, you'll be wrong. Leave him to me, okay?" "Yes sir." Cindy said, somewhat stonily. "Believe me, I will be taking care of it... and him." I said... Part 11 - Snake-Eyes Burglaries Thursday morning, March 12th. At 8:10am I got a call from SBI Deputy Director Conlan, asking Cindy and myself to come over to the town of Westphalia, which was south-by-southwest of the City. With Sheriff Allgood's permission, we deputized ourselves into the SBI Reserve and headed out. Cindy wanted to talk about the Brownlee incident but I forbade it, and the ride was one of near-total silence as we were both absorbed in our own thoughts. The towns of Westphalia and Eastphalia border the river that runs north-by-northeast to the City. They were called the 'Twin Cities' of our State, though they only had about 50,000 residents each. The interesting thing was that they were in separate counties, so each town was a county seat... and their Courthouses were built to be identical but mirror images of each other. In addition, their high schools were rivals and almost everything was done with 'Twin Cities' in mind. And it was the Westphalia branch of 'Twin Cities Banking Company' that had been burgled in the night. As we got there at 10:00am, SBI Deputy Director Conlan was there to meet us. "Thanks for coming, guys. While you were driving over, we found out that the Eastphalia branch of the bank was broken into, as well. And both had this same fish sign. Come on inside." We went inside and were led to the open round bank vault door, where the bank manager was introduced to us, and where a Detective of the Westphalia Police Department was examining the scene. "The security systems were totally disabled around 2:00am last night." said the Detective. "The vault was opened by simply dialing the combination. The burglars got away with about $20,000 in cash from the teller drawers that were brought inside for the night." "No other money was inside?" I asked as I examined the silver outline of a loop that crossed itself on the left side, forming a fish, a dot inside. Underneath was drawn a red line that was curved at one end. I couldn't help but smile at that one. "No, Lieutenant." the Detective said. I was still a Lieutenant with the SBI Reserve. I pointed out the crowbar drawing to Cindy. "That one's new." I said. "Silverfish must be a Wildcat and not a Bulldog, judging by the color of that." "Not something I'd take pride in." retorted my partner. The Detective looked confused. I filled him in on the nature of the Silverfish crime in Coltrane County, but did not go into the old burglaries. I then held up my red crowbar, which I was carrying. "Oh, you're that Iron Crowbar guy." said the youngish Detective. "Funny, I thought you'd be a lot older than me." "I'll take that as a compliment. Okay, let's go look at the one at Eastphalia's bank." I suggested. Cindy and I headed over with DD Conlan. "Think this is a new crime spree by this Silverfish guy, Don?" asked Conlan as we drove. "I don't know, Tom." I said. We'd gotten to a first-name basis after our collaborations during the 'SBI Wars' in the State Legislature. It also drove SBI Director Jack Lewis crazy for me to call DD Conlan by his first name, so that was an opportunity to take advantage of, for sure. "My initial thought was that the Coltrane County crime was just to tweak me. But these? I'm not sure..." We crossed the river into Eastphalia, and it was indeed a twin of the town we'd just left. At that bank, we examined the nearly identical safe in the nearly identically constructed bank. The Silverfish logo was also the same... but the crowbar drawn beneath it was blue! "Looks like your boy got some brains when he crossed the river, Don, and he became a Bulldog." Cindy said. "Not something to take pride in." I retorted. Despite her best efforts, Cindy could not help but grin at that one. We then had to explain to the Eastphalia Police Department detective at the scene... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * We drove on up to the City instead of going straight back to Town. The FBI team had returned there, as well, and Cindy and I informed them of our findings in the 'Twin Cities'. "We got you hotel rooms at the Marriott Grande Hotel." said Jack. "And you can use the computers on those extra desks here in the office." "Desks your boss hopes that we occupy one day soon." I said. "Not much gets by you." said Muscone. "But Detective Cummings is coming over. My boss liked your idea, and we're going to put it into effect tomorrow morning. She made an appointment with Jesse Keynes, so he should be in his office at that time." "Good." I said. "Any new word on Harkins?" "Not a thing." said Muscone. "We have a nationwide search going on for him, though... and we put out a bulletin to let us know of any bodies that fit his description." I used the computer to research the Oldeeds Group, Wargrave's Acme operations, and this Jesse Keynes. When Joanne got to the City, Cindy took her around to meet the FBI agents we'd come to know, then Joanne and I went over the plan for the next morning with Jack and Lindy. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Oh, it's so good to see you again!" said Britt Maxwell that evening, hugging Cindy as the platinum blonde came into the raven-haired beauty's apartment. "God, it's been way too long since I've talked to any of you over there." "Yeah, I know." Cindy said. "It's good to see you, too. Are you ready for dinner? I'm starving." Dinner between the two women and former roommates was at an upscale restaurant, and both were wearing tight, clingy dresses and high heels. They kept the conversation light and didn't talk of work. Cindy talked about Jenna and Molly and her nephew Ross, who was Don's son, of course, and Britt spoke of life in the City and new friends she had made. Back at Britt's apartment, Cindy was the first to bring it up. "This Brownlee guy, he's really unbelievable. He is literally trying to pick fights with everyone, especially Don, and now me. He even called me a 'dyke bitch' in front of Don and Tanya." "That's a sexual harassment lawsuit." Britt said. "Don't I wish." Cindy said. "I talked to Jenna about it, and she'd already heard McCombs say that he'd testify for the Union that we were making it up to get Brownlee in trouble, and the Union would take Brownlee's side if I sue or if we take it to the Council. Besides..." "What?" Britt prompted. "Don said Brownlee would find another way to fuck me over." Cindy replied. "Don is right that Brownlee outranks me, but so what? They can't court-martial me, they can only fire me. And I think Don wants to rip Brownlee a new one himself." "Sounds like things are going to come to a head over there, sooner or later." Britt said. "Don's smart, but I hope he won't let Brownlee get one over on him or set him up." "Naah, not Don." Cindy said. "But... you know, this thing has to be resolved... and with all the shit coming down on Don with his 'Moriarty' obsession and other stuff... it'd be much better if it happens sooner than later. If we could find a way to undermine the Enemy's plans... even if I have to get fired, I can..." Cindy became lost in thought, having her own reverie... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Mmmmm, what a tasty cock!" the older woman said as she licked around the spongy helmet of my throbbing hard little iron crowbar. "You need to visit the City more often, Don." "Mmm, don't I know it." I said. "You keep sucking my cock like that, and I'll have every incentive to." I was in my hotel room with City Police Captain Susan Wexler. Her black hair, flecked with a bit of gray, was in curls on her head as it bobbed up and down as she sucked my turgid meat. She was wearing black fishnet stockings and a garter belt, and her large breasts were pressed into my thigh. I could feel her hard nipples pressing into my flesh. I was remembering our conversation as we returned from dinner together. "I need to ask you something." I'd said. "A young woman named Nicole Stanton, a.k.a. Dawn Starrett, was murdered up at Lake Amengi-Nunagen a few weeks ago, and Cherie Ward was up there with her at the time. I know Cherie is one of your C.I.s. Was Nicole?" "Wow, for you to breach protocol by even asking that is amazing." Susan said. "Well, Cherie was all but blown when the murder happened." I said. "I'm hoping she won't come to harm, also. Anything you can tell me could help keep her alive and safe. And it's just between us; I have absolutely no intention of telling anyone else anything you tell me in confidence." Susan considered it, then said "I've already told Cherie she's burned and that we won't be using her anymore. Nicole was not a C.I. for me at all, but I got the feeling from talking to Cherie that Nicole was getting extra money from somewhere, that maybe she was being paid to get business or industrial secrets from her clients." "Was Cherie doing that?" I asked. "I don't know." Susan said. "Cherie was my C.I. for drug information, mostly, along with some political pandering and potential bribery." "So, no reason you know of why Nicole was murdered?" "No." Susan replied. "If everyone in the house that she had visited was accounted for, then I'm thinking she was waylaid and murdered by some sick freak. They make horror movies about stuff like that, you know..." Later, as I was face deep in Susan's delicious snatch, eating her pussy with gusto, I thought about what was going on. Industrial secrets... Wargrave? Michael Burke? I asked myself. No, this was not some movie psycho murder. Nicole Stanton was murdered for a reason, and I wanted to know what that reason was, and thus find out who had committed that horrific act... Part 12 - Snares On the Friday morning of March 13th, a pretty young woman got off the elevator and went into the office of Jesse Keynes, Chief Accounting Officer of Acme Consolidated, Inc. She was wearing a light blue button down shirt, a dark blue skirt and medium height navy blue pumps. She wore very little makeup, adding to the youthfulness of her look. Her blonde hair was done up in a loose pile on her head. The assistant admitted her into the office. Jesse Keynes did not look like one would expect an accountant to look. He was fit, muscular and lean. He had a rugged face, a head full of wavy brown hair, and a fairly large mustache. He looked more like an outdoorsman than a number cruncher. He looked to be in his upper 30s at the oldest, though he could've been a young-looking forty-something. "Oh, thank you so much for speaking with me today." gushed the blonde girl with a radiant smile. "Please, have a seat, Miss..." Keynes said, his voice a deep, masculine baritone. "Carnes. Joanne Carnes." said the blonde. "I'm a graduate student at the University, and I so appreciate you allowing me to interview you for my class project." "No problem, no problem at all." said Keynes. "So, what about your project would make you want to speak with me." "It's a long story, but I've been such a fan of Jonas Oldeeds." said Joanne. "He was such a great man and I was so sorry when he died. I did learn from corporate records that you were a part of his accounting group, and I thought you might could help me with my project, which is the accounting of unusual corporations such as the Reverend Oldeeds' Ministries." "Oh, okay." said Keynes. "So, go ahead." "Well," said Joanne, "at my church, Pastor Westboro takes up the collection plates and then takes the offerings to the local bank and deposits them. But a church on the scale of Reverend Oldeeds... surely he can't just do that, can he?" "You might be surprised." said Keynes. "Of course he didn't do it himself, but several of his disciples would take the money that was collected in the offerings, count in and bundle it, then take it to the bank for deposit. Not much different than your church, just on a larger scale." "Oh, that's so interesting!" the pretty blonde gushed, writing a couple of notes on her pad. "But what about when he was touring, or when Reverend Patterson is touring? They can't carry all that money all the way back to their home bank in Texas, can they?" Keynes chuckled. "No, that wouldn't be wise. What we would do, at least while I was with them, would be to contact a bank beforehand and arrange for the cash to be counted and deposited at their bank. Then they'd wire a money transfer to us, or write out a cashier's check and they'd keep the cash or deposit it in the FRB." "Oh, that would be the convenient way of doing it." said Joanne. "So did someone in your office do that, or did someone at a high level..." Joanne smiled brightly "like yourself, Mr. Keynes... make those arrangements?" "I would do them myself." said Keynes, smiling back at the pretty, younger woman. "Security was our issue, and I'd handle those arrangements myself. "I certainly hope you never had a problem with someone trying to steal the offering money." Joanne gushed. "I remember my little brother trying to take quarters out of the collection plate, but the Oldeeds Ministries must've had to worry about a lot more than that disappearing." "Oh yes, the money was carefully guarded on the way to the bank. Usually we had Brinks or some other service transport it." said Keynes. Silverfish Ch. 02 "And what would happen if someone robbed the bank?" asked Joanne. "Once the money was deposited, it was insured with the FDIC and the bank's insurance." said Keynes. "So we didn't worry about anything once we had the money at the bank." "Ohhh!" Joanne said, as if that was the smartest thing in the world. "I just have one last question: did you ever have problems with the IRS? With all that money, did they bother you?" "No, we were an exempt organization, since we were a church." said Keynes. "But we did have to make reports, and we would invite the IRS to send someone to oversee our counting and reporting processes. But we never had a problem; the Reverend Oldeeds insisted that we properly report every penny. He and his Trustees were somewhat tight about that." "Oh yes, Reverend Oldeeds was such a great man, such a man of the Lord!" gushed Joanne. "I have to go, but I really do want to thank you for your time today, Mr. Keynes." "Think nothing of it." said Keynes. "In fact, why don't you give me your number, and perhaps we can discuss any more questions you have, over coffee or a drink?" "Oh, that would be so sweet of you!" said Joanne, smiling beautifully. She wrote down a number and handed it to Keynes. "Thank you so much, and thank you for your time today. I'll let myself out..." After Joanne left, Jesse Keynes picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Yes sir, she just left... yes, she's being followed... yes, she did give me her number, and I'll check it out... yes, I checked her out with the University, and the Accounting Department there said she was a graduate student with Dr. Livermore... yes sir, I will." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Joanne the graduate student walked quickly down the street, one of the nicer ones in the City. She turned and walked down another road as if she were going to the subway station. She did not look back, and the two men following her had no trouble keeping her in sight. Just before getting to the stairs to the train station, she suddenly turned right and walked between two buildings. The two men, knowing their confederates already at the bottom of the subway stairs would not have seen that, hurried up to catch up to her. *WHAM!* As they turned the corner, they were suddenly grabbed by a large black man and a leaner white man. The girl was nowhere to be seen. "City Police!" said City Detective Thomas Sapper Warren, showing a badge as two other officers kept the men pushed against the wall, their arms twisted behind their backs. "What are you doing following that girl?" "We're private detectives!" one of them said, struggling to speak, his face pressed against the side of the grimy building. The men's wallets were produced, and their P.I. licenses were inside, and in good order. "Didn't answer my question, bozo." said Warren. "Why are you following that girl? Were you hired to?" "Yeah, we were." said the P.I. after he'd been frisked for weapons, relieved of his handgun, and then allowed to turn around and face the police officers. "Who hired you?" asked Warren. "We can't tell you that, that's privileged." said the P.I. "Suit yourself." said Sapper. "Guys, take 'em in." The men protested as they were turned around and handcuffed. Sapper then said "Boys, you answer my questions and I'll let you go free. If not, you can spend the night in jail. Who hired you?" "All right, all right... it was a guy named Keynes." said the P.I. "He works for Acme, and said he thought that girl was an industrial spy trying to get information out of him. He wanted us to follow her to see where she went and who she reported to." "Acme, huh?" said Sapper. "Okay, guys, let 'em go. Boys, I'd suggest you tell your client that you were following a girl a little too obviously and got the attention of the Police. Now get out of here before I change my mind and take you to the Station." Unhandcuffed, the men scrambled and got out of there." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Well, did you have fun with that play acting?" I asked Joanne, who was riding shotgun. Cindy was in the backseat. We were in my silver Police SUV, riding along the Nextdoor County Highway back to our home turf. "Yes sir, it was fun." Joanne said. "I thought he fell for it, but when your friend Detective Warren caught those guys following me, I guess he saw through me after all." "Maybe not." said Cindy. "He may have been just being careful, just making sure you were who you said you were. Don's plan to interdict them was good, though, and he cleaned up the bread crumbs you were leaving." Joanne laughed. "So, what did you get?" I asked. "It was pretty much as you'd already guessed, Commander." Joanne said. "He said they'd have armored security take the money to the bank. He made the arrangements in advance himself. He said they invited the IRS to monitor their money-counting, and yes, he knew the money was insured with the FDIC and the bank once it was deposited." "Why is that a big deal, Commander?" Cindy asked. "It speaks to their intent." I said. "Now we have to set up a sting and catch a fish... a 'Silverfish'." "How are we going to do that?" asked Cindy. "With the right bait." I said. "Was I not the only one that heard the Reverend Robert Patterson was speaking at First Baptist this Sunday?" "Oh, that's right!" Joanne said. "I'm looking forward to that, and so is Seth... Robert Patterson is a great speaker, very inspiring! He's not Jonas Oldeeds, but he's trying to bring the Lord's message as best he can." "No doubt he's not Jonas Oldeeds, eh Cindy?" I said. Joanne missed the sarcasm in my voice; Cindy did not. "Hard to match the record of the Reverend Oldeeds, Commander." Cindy replied with a straight face. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "But Sheriff," said Deputy Chief Brownlee, "the Crime Lab is admin, it's properties. I should be in charge of it. I want Woodrow out, and I want my own person in there running it." "The Crime Lab belongs to the County, to Public Safety overall, and therefore to me." replied Sheriff Allgood. They were in the Police Chief's office, and Daniel Allgood was beginning to regret having run for Sheriff in the first place. "The Crime Lab handles both police evidence and fire department arson evidence. Just because it's on the other end of our parking lot doesn't mean you own it, Brownlee. By rights, the State should be running it, not us, and I'm not going to jeopardize our control of it with your whining about nitpicky stuff." "I guess I'm going to have to get the Union to grieve this also?" Brownlee asked, his voice conveying that he was making a threat. Allgood pretended to consider a moment. "Okay Robert, you go ahead and do that. Go run to your Union buddies again. When you do, I'm going to go to the Council, and I'm going to ask them to fire you. I've had enough of your shit, and of you. It was clearly a mistake to make you Deputy Chief. Now get out of here." For the first time, Robert Brownlee showed worry and consideration that he might have overstepped. "Sheriff, I'm just trying to do what's right here-" "Bullshit!" Allgood replied, worn to anger. "You're trying to fuck with Commander Troy again, is what you're doing. He got Dr. Woodrow to come lead the Crime Lab and make it the best lab in the State, and you're trying to undermine that. Now Robert, I'm done with your shit. You do what you think is right, and I'll do what I need to do: go to the Council and have you removed from the Deputy Chief position if I have any more issues with you. Any computer slowdowns, any delays in getting things fixed, anything at all. The Police Force needs to be properly maintained, and if you can't or won't do it, I'll have you replaced with someone who will." "Okay, Sheriff, I get the message." Brownlee said, trying to sound like he was conceding. He got up to leave. "But I don't think you have grounds to complain about the job I'm doing. I'm not fucking things up, no matter what that paranoid asshole with the crowbar thinks." "You'd better not be." Allgood replied shortly. "You were dismissed already. Get out." Brownlee left the office, and Daniel Allgood was left wondering what in the world he could possibly do to fix this incredible mess... without losing the Iron Crowbar's abilities in the process... Part 13 - The Reverend Robert Patterson On Saturday, March 14th, I was asked to come into Headquarters at 8:00am. When I got there, Sheriff Allgood and Lt. Cindy Ross were already there, as was Lt. Wes 'Coldiron' Masters. "Good morning, Commander." said Lt. Masters in his clipped, fast, very proper way of talking. "Thank you for coming in, sir. Reverend Robert Patterson wants to talk with us about a security detail for his appearance at First Baptist on Sunday. He says his Ministry will pay for our services, and he said he wanted to speak with you personally. He said something about your father being one of Jonas Oldeeds' Trustees?" "Yes, that's true." I said. "My father was one of the original investors in Jonas Oldeeds Ministries, and he did well financially because of it. Okay, is he here yet?" "No sir, he'll be here by 8:30am, he said." Masters replied. "Okay, I'll be in my office." I said. "Just bring him to the main conference room, then come get me." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Wow, it's 'Commander' now... congratulations!" said the Reverend Robert Patterson as he vigorously shook my hand, his smile just a bit too forced and 'toothy'. He introduced Pastor Fred Bundy and his assistant, a buxom blonde woman. "Thank you, Reverend." I said, "And congratulations to you in your increasing position in the Oldeeds Ministries. You may remember Lt. Ross? And this is Lt. Masters, in charge of our Uniformed Officers. He'll be your point man for the security detail." "Ah, very good." said Reverend Patterson. "I do want to apologize for what seems like very fast, last minute planning on this. The truth is that we find doing it this way cuts down tremendously on leaks of our plans, and we're prepared to compensate your officers handsomely for their inconvenience." "I understand." I said. "And after the unfortunate experience of the Reverend Oldeeds at our Fairgrounds nearly two years ago, I can understand the need for the very best security measures." "Very true." said Robert Patterson, his eyes studying me, trying to determine if there was anything in my last remarks. He did have a neat rejoinder: "And if I recall, you yourself was almost murdered by foul men at that event, Commander." Touché, I thought to myself. "Yes, that is true." I said. "My good friend Fred here will work with you on the actual security measures, Lieutenant Masters." Patterson was saying. "In the meantime, I was hoping I might could have a moment alone with the Commander?" "Uh, sure." I said, acting surprised though I'd told Cindy exactly what would happen in this meeting. "Let's go to my office." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Ah, student of the Trojan War?" Patterson asked as he saw the painting and matchstick horse behind my desk. His words struck me; I'd heard them before... "Not really." I said as I went around behind my desk to my chair. "Those are gifts from an admirer... who apparently is a student of the Trojan War. So, Reverend, how can I help you?" "I'll get right to it. No pretenses, let's get past the pleasantries and small talk." said Patterson as he sat down at my invitation, his voice falling so that it was quiet. "I know that Jonas offered you a job with our security team when he was here on the day he died. I want to re-iterate that offer: our team would love to have a man of your immense talents working with us." "That's very kind, Reverend-" "Please, call me Robert." Patterson offered. "Thank you, but I could possibly be so impolite to a man of your stature." I said. "But as I was about to say, I'm very happy where I am now." "Yes, I'm sure." Patterson said. "You're essentially in charge of this Police Department, you're in the SBI Reserve and have influence there, and you're a consultant with the FBI, though I must admit I have no love for that organization. You've come a long way since that day Jonas died... and you nearly were murdered yourself... but we can offer you something they can't: scope and influence on a scale much larger than you can imagine here in this County." I smiled a brief smile. "Okay, Reverend," I said. "No pretenses, let's get past the small talk. What do you really want of me?" Robert Patterson smiled, as if my seeing through his game was fully expected by him. "You're as brilliant as I've heard, indeed you really are. Yes, Mr. Iron Crowbar, I'll get right down to it. I can give you proof that Vicki Oldeeds is responsible for the murder of that young CIA agent, Mike was his name, I think. Yes... I have audio and video of Vicki ordering her henchmen to murder Mike, and I'm willing to hand you that evidence... in return for something." After a pause I said "I'm listening." "The FBI has been breathing down our necks." said Patterson. "It wasn't Oldeeds Ministries, but Vicki Oldeeds herself that was behind Mike's brutal murder. And we're having problems from other directions, as well. I'm sure you know that Henry Wargrave is in deep trouble... deep trouble with people that were once his benefactors. He's becoming more and more of a problem to our international operations." "Why tell the local cop on the beat about all this?" I said. "In fact, if you have proof that Vicki murdered Mike, you'd get some real puppy points by going to the FBI and turning that information in, letting them handle Vicki. Why not do that? In fact... don't you have an obligation, to the Lord as well as to Justice, to do the right thing in that direction?" "Oh, I could, I could." said Patterson. "But that wouldn't help me be able to take and run Oldeeds Ministries, especially in the way Jonas would've wanted. But if you, Don, were to come into my organization as Head of Security, you could keep the small trash like Wargrave down, you'd be able to persuade your FBI friends that I'm not a problem to them, and you'd have tremendous financial security that you could pass on to your family after the Lord calls you home. We could really make a great team, as your father and Jonas were a great team in Jonas's younger years." "I appreciate your offer, Reverend, I really do." I said. "And it may come as a surprise to a man attempting to gain the leadership of an organization as large as the Oldeeds Group, but I really am quite happy here, in this Police Department, in this County." I got up. "We should be getting back to the group, Reverend. I really am interested in seeing what security arrangements are being set up for your sermon Sunday at First Baptist." I said. "Sure, sure." said Robert Patterson, not quite sure how to progress from here. "But keep the offer in mind... it's open to you." He extended his hand, and I shook it to be polite. Part 14 - The Set Up And The Bait Later that Saturday afternoon, a small gang descended upon Second National Bank. In addition to myself, Cindy and Wes Masters, Pastor Fred Bundy and Pastor Raymond Westboro of the First Baptist Church was talking to the President of the Bank, Mr. Wilson. Mr. Harkins's assistant was taking notes. "We'll have a couple of our people here to receive the money, Pastor Bundy." said Mr. Wilson, indicating Mr. Harkins' assistant next to him. "I appreciate your trust in Second National Bank to handle this transaction for you." "Again, Mr. Wilson, the fewer people that know of this, the better." said Pastor Fred Bundy. "Of course, of course." said Mr. Wilson. "Only those of us here now will know. Since it's Sunday, we can keep things very quiet. If you'll excuse us for a moment, I'll let my assistant here know what we're going to do for you." He took the assistant to one side. "Lieutenant," said Cindy Ross to Wes Masters, "let's you and I take a look at the building, and where our police will be escorting the guards carrying the money." They walked off together. I was alone with Pastor Bundy and Pastor Westboro. "Gentlemen," I said quietly. "Only you and I know that I'm going to have a second team of officers ready to go. Lt. Masters will have to know, but he doesn't know the other bank we're really taking the money to. It's going to be County Regional Bank, just south of Town, near Junction Station. "Ah yes, I'm familiar with it." said Pastor Westboro. "An excellent choice, Commander. Small, out of the way, it won't garner attention." "And I'll be here, at Second National, waiting for this burglar that has committed some recent bank robberies." I said. "We've embellished the amount of money you're expecting to raise, Pastor Bundy, to make it a tempting target for the criminal." "I must commend you on your plan." said Pastor Westboro. "It's no wonder you get the results you do." "You're too kind, Councilman." I said, using Westboro's Town & County Council title. "I'm hoping we'll have the double win of securing the return of the missing bank assistant manager, as well." "Do you think he's the bank robber?" Westboro asked, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know, but it's possible, very possible." I said. "Thank you for your help, Pastor Westboro. I have to go confer with my officers now." I took my leave of everyone else to prepare myself mentally for the battle ahead. To be continued. So, who is the Silverfish? And who was behind the bank heists? Solution next chapter! Silverfish Ch. 03 The chronological order of my stories is as follows: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Teresa's Summer Race, The Trilogy series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Hot Wives Investment Club series, Seriously Inconvenienced series, Case of the Paper Trail series, Christmas Mystery Theater, The Porno Set Mystery series, The Medical Murder Mystery series, The Eightfold Fence series, Pale Morning Light series. Silverfish, Ch. 01-03 Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. ***** Part 15 - The Net 2:00am, Monday morning, March 16th. The previous day had been the Ides of March, the day Julius Caesar was assassinated. It was on March 15th one year before that there was an attempt to assassinate me in the street. As always, I remembered how I was able to do what I do: I think of Laura. The rest is easy. And it was going to be easy tonight, I hoped. We were waiting inside the bank vault for the criminal 'Silverfish' to arrive and take the proceeds of the Reverend Robert Patterson's 'love offering', collected after his moving sermon at First Baptist Church. The church's main auditorium could hold more than 2000 people, and it was an overflow capacity in the chamber to hear the Reverend Patterson. The police entourage had carried the money to the bank. On the way to Second National Bank, everyone had been especially watchful. A few police cars stopped at the bank, where people with a bag of money were admitted before the doors were closed and the blinds drawn. The rest of the entourage took the Reverend Patterson and his group back to the Hyatt Hotel. Police details covered the parking lot, lobby and the floor where the Oldeeds Group's rooms were. No one seemed to take notice the small, two-car entourage that left First Baptist about 30 minutes after the larger contingent. Inside the front car was Pastor Bundy and an assistant, along with a police driver. In the second car was myself and Cindy, with a police driver. After counting and depositing the money, Pastor Bundy and the bank official left, securing the bank in pitch darkness. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "I don't like this." said Henry R. Wargrave as he watched from the back of a black car parked a distance from the County Regional Bank. His bodyguard was in the front passenger seat. "Something's not right." Two car door opened. The car driver got in behind the wheel, and a man dressed in all black got in back and sat by Wargrave. He was The Silverfish. "It's secure, sir. We used thermal imaging. Nobody's hiding inside. I got word from Second National; they've got three people hiding in a back office there, they lit up the thermal imagers like Christmas trees." "All right." said Wargrave. "Something's not right, but damned if I can see what it is. See that black car parked next to the Depot building?" He pointed at a black car in the distance. "The keys are in the ignition. Get to the bypass, curl up and go west out of State. Park behind the empty farmhouse at the location I gave you, and relax until the morning. Plan to meet my agent at 8:00am at the Country Breakfast Diner on the west side of Town. You'll swap keys while eating and take each other's cars. Keep the money that'll be in your getaway car; it's yours. Drive to California and lose yourself in the Bay Area. I'll be in touch in the next couple of months, standard contact method." "Yes sir." said Silverfish. "By the way, I'm just enormously curious: why are you doing this? It's not like you need the money, sir." "For the same reason you are, my friend." said Wargrave. "Because these are my instructions. Okay, at your leisure, go. Once you get out of the car, I'm pulling out. Good luck." "On my way." said Silverfish. He got out of the car, hearing the engine crank, and seconds later he was watching the car's taillights disappear down the road. One more check with the thermal imaging device, seeing nothing. Then he put on the silk, full-face ski mask, only his eyes showing. He walked swiftly to the back door of the bank and used the code to turn off the alarm. To be sure, he activated a switch that caused the phone system to go down. Residents shouldn't notice until the morning, and it would ensure any unknown secondary alarm systems couldn't notify the Town & County Police of his presence at the bank. He needed the Iron Crowbar and his fellow officers sitting at Second National Back to continue to wait for him there. Alerting them to his presence here would make it a most very bad day for him. The key he'd been given worked perfectly; he unlocked the back door and walked in. Locking the outer door from the inside, he moved to the next set of doors, which also opened with the same key. He moved into the dark lobby. Night vision goggles got him to the vault door, but he'd need a small light to see the numbers and dial the combination to open the large vault door. Crouching at the door, he sat on his knees, immobile, listening intently for the least sound. He could hear light traffic in the distance, but no car came up the road that led directly to the bank. Finally, he dialed the combination, and at the last number he heard a sharp, loud click. He turned the big wheel, which began moving the large steel rods out of their slots. Round and round and round and round the wheel went. When it stopped, he pulled hard on the huge steel door. It was so well balanced that he alone could pull it open with a bit of effort. Just as he stepped into the vault, he turned on his flashlight- "UUHK!" he gasped. Hands had grabbed him and hurled him to the floor! He was on his belly, his hands being pulled behind him, a huge weight on his back. He heard as well as felt handcuffs being snapped onto his wrists. "Okay, come on in." he heard a voice say into a radio. Seconds later the entire parking lot was bathed in the blinding blue and white LED lights of police vehicles. Officers poured in as the lights came on. Silverfish was grabbed and dragged into the lobby, and put in a sitting position on the floor as the indoor lights of the bank were turned on. He looked up at the tall, broad-shouldered man in the Tilley Hat with Airborne wings and a police badge affixed, a light trenchcoat covering his black-clad body, a red crowbar in his hands. Next to him was a platinum blonde woman in all black, a blue crowbar... and the silver Sharpie she had removed from his pocket. "Mr. Silverfish, I presume." said the man. "My name is Commander Donald Troy. It was so kind of you to visit us tonight... Mr. Jesse Keynes, Chief Accounting Officer of Acme Consolidated, Inc." Only after saying his name did I reach down and remove the perp's mask. Indeed it was the face of Jesse Keynes that looked up at us. "What the hell is this?" Keynes asked, clearly shocked. "This... is the Iron Crowbar at work, Mr. Keynes." said Cindy. "Not much gets by this man, and it was stupid, very very stupid, of you to draw his attention to yourself like you did." "Sergeant, read the man his rights, and make sure to videotape yourself doing so." I said. This was done rapidly, then I squatted down next to the still-stunned Keynes. "What this is, Mr. Keynes, is that you are under arrest for burgling this bank. My partner and I were inside the vault itself, where your thermal imaging device did not detect us. We were expecting a visit from you tonight, Mr. Keynes... a.k.a. Silverfish. Okay, guys, take him to Headquarters and book him, then take him to Interrogation-1..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The powerful lawyer from Gresham & Mason, P.C. had appeared at Headquarters almost at the same time I did, insisting on being Keynes' legal counsel. I had him escorted to Interrogation-1, and told him to confer with his client within the fifteen minutes it would take me to get in there. Cindy and I changed clothes, into Police Uniforms with light blue shirts, darker blue soft shoulderboards with our ranks, darker blue pants with piping (Cindy's light blue, mine yellow). We entered Interrogation-1 and sat down. Keynes and his lawyer opposite us. Sergeant Rudistan was standing in the corner behind them; he always volunteered to do this for the big interrogations, I noted with some internal amusement. "So what will you offer for my client's truthful testimony?" asked the lawyer. "Come on, Counselor," I replied, "it's three o'clock in the morning, but I am not asleep at the wheel here. Your client gets no deals at all. He knows, as you do, that his only chance to live is to tell everything he knows before the Big Man comes for him." "You've got nothing." said Keynes. "You caught me in one little country bank. So what?" I pointed my pen towards the door. Into the room from the anteroom bounded Detective Joanne Cummings, wearing light blue shirt with darker blue shoulderboards of rank, and a blue skirt and medium black pumps. "Why Mr. Keynes, what a surprise to see you here!" Joanne gushed as she handed me a piece of paper. "I guess I won't have a chance to talk with you about accounting, after all." Keynes' face fell a bit as Joanne turned to go, a bright smile on her pretty face. "As you can tell, Mr. Keynes," I said, "It's been pretty obvious to us who the Silverfish is for quite a while. Detective 'Carnes' there got a good piece of information from you... about how you made sure the deposits were in, so that when you stole them it was like doubling your money at the roulette wheel." I continued: "All I needed to do was set a trap for the Silverfish, who thought he could really humiliate me by hitting the bank he thought I was not at, while I sat at the bank he thought I was sitting at... a trap which we effectively sprang upon you tonight." I leaned forward. "Now why don't you come correct and talk. I'll get you the best deal I can, and maybe I can keep you alive long enough to do your time and get out." "Plead the Fifth now, don't say anything more." said the lawyer. "That's truly your only hope here." "I waive my right to counsel." said Keynes. "This man does not represent me. I'll cooperate with you." Surprisingly, the expensive lawyer did not argue; he simply stood up to go. "Counselor," I said as the lawyer moved to the door, "I'm getting real tired of seeing Gresham & Mason legal beagles in my Interrogation rooms." I said. "You'd-" "We'll be in here when we damn well need to, in order to protect our clients from your abuse!" the lawyer thundered, menace in his voice. I held up my hand. "You didn't let me finish." I said, looking the lawyer squarely in the eyes. "I know you're here to protect your client's... your real client's... interests much more than the people I have brought in here. Tell your boss that my patience is wearing thin... and that I'm coming after him." The lawyer glared at me, but I could see that he was trying to gauge if I was bluffing, and how much I really did know. After a moment, he left. "Okay, Mr. Keynes," I said, "you were saying? Or shall I tell you, and you just fill in the gaps, okay?" "Why do I get the feeling you really could do that?" Keynes said, a half-smile on his ruggedly handsome face. Cindy could not hide a smile, either. "You were in a high position with the Oldeeds Ministries empire." I said. "Inside the Accounting Group. You and others, including Oldeeds himself if I don't miss my guess, came up with the idea to steal the money that you deposited in the banks after the generous donations of Oldeeds' followers. You bragged to Joanne that you personally made the arrangements with the banks. So you knew which bank it was, and all you needed was some information about the banks." Jesse's eyes again showed defeat when I mentioned Joanne's visit to him. "So, you worked with someone, a friend of Jonas Oldeeds, who had resources to get the information of any bank you needed. Maybe you were told which bank to use beforehand, but in any case you obtained the security codes or means to disable the security, as well as the vault combinations themselves." "You then went in and, perhaps with a confederate or two, took all the cash. Since it wasn't sequentially numbered or delivered by the Federal Reserve, it was virtually untraceable. And if Oldeeds got $300,000 in donations, they were getting $300,000 in stolen money, effectively doubling their money. The legal money went to the Ministries, the stolen money to the international human trafficking operations-" "Let me tell you right now: I had nothing to do with human trafficking, and I never touched an underaged girl. I never needed that shit." Keynes said. I could tell in his eyes that he was being sincere. "What do you know about that?" I asked. "Not enough to help the FBI get a conviction of anyone, if that's what you're asking for." said Keynes. "Jonas never let people inside his legitimate Ministries, which included me, work for or with the dark side of that business. He always kept the two separated, like the 'A' and 'B' sections of the Coca-Cola factory. He's dead, so you'll never arrest him, and I simply don't have the evidence nor the knowledge of those operations for you to get anyone else." "Okay, but I'm right that the money went to that stuff?" "Some of it." Keynes replied. "I kept some off the top for doing the jobs. A tenth. I banked a million in addition to the generous salary Jonas paid me. Jonas also stuffed some political pockets with the dirty money, and gave some bonuses to his top people." "Why did you stop at ten million?" Cindy asked. "The initial idea was to take the offerings, steal the cash from the bank, and we'd have double for nothing, so to speak, as you said a minute ago." said Keynes. "Jonas used the money for seed money for some of his international smuggling schemes. We knew those would pay off for many tens of millions over time. As we neared ten million, Jonas and I discussed stopping at that point. I knew my luck had been more than good and that it would run out if I pushed it. Jonas didn't need the money any more. So after the last haul, I posted a farewell message and retired. I didn't rob a bank again until this past week." "And why did you do that job?" I asked. "To tweak me?" "I did it because my boss told me to." Keynes said with alacrity. "And that included writing messages about 'Hello Iron Crowbar' and then drawing crowbars. I didn't even know who you were until you were standing over me with that red crowbar at the bank a few hours ago." "See, partner?" I said, addressing Cindy. "I'm not nearly as famous as you think I am." "So you say." said Cindy. "Mr. Keynes, is your boss Henry R. Wargrave?" The question took me by surprise. Why did Cindy ask that so directly? I wondered. Gears started turning in my head. "He's my boss at Acme, if that's what you mean." said Keynes. "But he's not the guy who helped me with the bank jobs, nor told me to do the ones this past week. And before you ask, I don't know for sure who my boss is. He's known as the Shadow Man to us, and possibly other names to others. He tries to keep the left hand from knowing what the right hand is doing, to quote a Biblical phrase." That struck me, and set more gears in motion in my head. I realized that I had just heard something very, very important. But I continued with my line of questioning as I said as if musing: "So he could be standing next to you, and you'd never know who he is." "Yeah, essentially." Keynes said. "He gave orders by telephone or email, sometimes through Mr. Wargrave." "Did Wargrave ever have you do anything illegal?" Cindy asked. She was really pushing the Wargrave angle, I noted as Keynes smiled. "Not until tonight." answered Keynes. "I was too public a figure, I was listed on his tax and corporate papers. He only had me do legit stuff until these last four bank jobs the past few days." "That may technically be correct." I said. "And up to this point, Mr. Keynes, you've been telling the truth, at least I believe you have. But you're not telling the truth about Wargrave. I think you know a lot more." "Best of luck with that." Keynes said. And then I had the insight. I understood what Keynes was doing. I had nothing personally against him, so I felt the need to give him a warning. I looked the man dead in the eye and said "Mr. Keynes, you need to be much more careful. This is a dangerous game you are playing here. Both ends against the middle. It can easily get you killed." Keynes peered hard at me, as did Cindy. Keynes's eyes showed me that he understood, fully understood, what I had meant. He knew that I knew. At that moment, there was a knock on the door from the anteroom, and Jack Muscone peeked his head in. I rose and came into the anteroom. "He's yours." I said. "He needs to be in Federal custody. Protective custody, too, or he's going to come over all dead. We have the bank burglary charge, but he's admitted to the Silverfish crime spree, and the U.S. Attorneys can overcome the Statue of Limitations problem." "I heard the last bit of it." Muscone said. "Not much on Wargrave?" "Not yet. But I suspect he's going to sing, though he'll pretend to make you force it out of him after your best interrogators spend hours with him." I said. "But in the end, he'll sing like a bird about Wargrave, and he'll likely give you what you need to bring down Wargrave, or at least get on the right path." "Oh really?" Muscone said, surprised. "How do you know?" "I don't know," I replied, "but I'm guessing that Silverfish here is being used, and will follow the script he's been given. He may come to realize it, so act fast." "Thanks, Don." said Jack Muscone. "Okay, we'll take him." "Let me just ask one more question." I said. I went inside the Interrogation Room again. "Mr. Keynes, do you know a Mr. Harkins of the Second National Bank here in Town?" "No sir, never heard of him." said Keynes. "So you wouldn't know where he is?" I asked. "Think about it, it's important." "No, sorry, I have no idea." said Keynes. I knew he was telling the truth. An opportunity missed. Part 16 - Solution "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" yelled the lovely redhead reporterette from in front of County Regional Bank at 7:00am Monday, March 16th. "Channel Two News is bringing you live coverage from County Regional Bank, where a burglary was detected and defeated by Commander Donald Troy of the Town & County Police Department last night!" "And my Team, Bettina, and my Team." I said to the TV screen in MCD. Bettina continued: "Channel Two News has learned that the bank robber was a man known to the FBI as The Silverfish, who committed a string of bank heists across the nation about a decade ago. His real name is Jesse Keynes, a high-level accountant at Acme Consolidated in the City. Acme Consolidated issued a statement this morning that they were not aware of any of Keynes's crimes, and will make a further statement when they learn more themselves. The FBI said in a statement that it is not known why someone in Keynes' position would resort to robbing banks, but Keynes was caught in the act as he tried to take the love offering collected for the Reverend Robert Patterson after his rousing revival sermon at First Baptist Church last night..." Silverfish Ch. 03 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "I'm just a country Sheriff, Commander," said Sheriff Sorrells, sitting in a chair in my office with Sheriff Allgood next to him in the other chair , "but even I can see that this is something big. And there's been a number of things in my county that have spilled over from yours, hasn't there?" I knew that Sorrells was not the dumbest rock in the box. "Yes, Sheriff." I said. "Between the Asylum and this bank heist, you've been dragged into some bigger issues." "Yes, and that's why I came up here this morning, Commander." said Sorrells. He instinctively dropped his voice as he said "I've been looking quietly into the corruption going on in my county. I thought that Eckhart cult fellow was going to turn out to be behind it, but that's not the case. That guy is more straight-up and has helped a lot more people than he gets credit for. I'm not saying he's totally clean, but he's not the problem." "I can agree with that." I said quietly. "What else did you find?" "Some of the corruption is political." Sorrells said. "Your police Captain Malone, who was recently found dead in Alabama, was in league with my predecessor and other officials to run drugs and launder money, or at least let certain gangs do so. And I need not tell you about the racial component that Malone used and was a part of. That's rife in my county, part of the fabric there." "No, you don't need to tell me." I said agreeably. Sorrells then said "But what I also found, just the faintest whiff of it, was that there is another organizing force, maybe behind Malone, maybe separate, but definitely there. And whoever this guy is, he's hidden very, very well. We catch some boys running drugs, and maybe one guy drops a hint that they have a leader, but the rest of them say it's just a local small-time thing... then the best lawyers in the State show up to defend them in Court, and their cases are rigged to be dropped. I try to look into that, and can't find a damn thing, and the judges like Stone and that prosecutor Sanders tell me to lay off, then tell me to watch my back... and the one kid who spoke up ends up floating dead in the River. Now I'm not afraid of these bastards, but I am worried that I can't fight what I can't see... I'm not much at 'shadow boxing'." "I hear you, Sheriff." I said. "And allow me to suggest that you do lay off, at least when they're watching. There are indeed some big issues, and people have indeed turned up dead because of it. I don't want you to be on the casualty list. Remember that fire at my home on the mountainside?" "That was them?" Sorrells asked, his face showing shock. "Oh yes." I said. "Oh yes." "So," said Sheriff Sorrells, "who gets jurisdiction on this dog? I've asked for it, and both Eastphalia and Westphalia and their counties have, also." "The FBI is going to take it." I said. "They're going to connect him to the 30 earlier Silverfish heists, and work to overcome the Statute of Limitations. They also want other information out of him, so I wouldn't count on getting him to your County, Sheriff." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Lunch was at the Cop Bar paid for by FBI Special Agent In Charge Jack Muscone (your tax dollars at work). Also present were myself, Cindy Ross, Daniel Allgood (invited by Jack), Sandra Speer, Lindy Linares and Eduardo Escobar. "It was an interesting case, though it was pretty easy." I said. "Easy!" gasped Sandra Speer. "The FBI never solved this in a decade!" "But the Iron Crowbar walks in and gets it done in a couple of weeks." said Lindy Linares, her eyes looking at me very flirtatiously. "Well," I said, smiling, "it was a stroke of good fortune that I correlated the Oldeeds appearances with the money heists. But once that happened, things fell into place pretty easily... almost too easily." "How do you mean that?" Cindy Ross said, the only one at the table who was truly catching on to what I was thinking. "Keynes made it really easy by giving us a few new crimes to work with." I said. "And then one that let me trap him so easily. Compare and contrast to Mr. Harkins, who outright lied to police about the money in Second National Bank that was stolen by Silverfish... Harkins knew it had been an Oldeeds event, not a Crown Chemicals payroll, but he made sure to lead my officers astray with his story. Damn, we were so fucking close..." I did not finish the sentence as I contemplated our bad luck on that one. "And now he's on the run." said Jack Muscone. "Not a whisper of a trace of him, either. As to Keynes, he's talking up a storm. Keep this between us, but he is giving us just about everything he has on Henry Wargrave. Not so much criminal stuff, but threads that are leading us to a more complete picture. We may be getting enough to actually go after the guy." "Another convenient coincidence." I said. Muscone's face showed his complete lack of understanding, so I asked "Did he say why he started the Silverfish heists again?" "He said he was told to, by Henry Wargrave." Jack said. "And that's one of the key things: apparently Wargrave is being squeezed financially. He has billions, but they're either locked up or being blocked from him getting at them. So we're thinking Wargrave asked Keynes to do the heists to get some operating capital." "Sounds reasonable." Sheriff Allgood said. "I'm not sure the Commander is as convinced, Sheriff." Cindy said, seeing the expression on my otherwise silent face. Everyone looked at me. "Crowbar 2 is right." I said. "Something's just a little bit off on all of it. Too many coincidences. Silverfish starts his career back just as I'm being given the information about the 30 heists to look at. Then the Reverend Patterson and the Oldeeds Gang come back to the County just in time for Silverfish to attempt to rob their offering money, and of course that lets me set the trap. As that old Saturday Night Live 'Church Lady' skit would say: 'How conveeeenient!'." "Put like that," Special Agent Escobar said "it does seem kind of strange. So what does it mean, Don?" "It means that someone knew I was going to be put on the trail of the Silverfish," I replied, "that someone knew this would lead me, and you, to Henry R. Wargrave. So either he is immolating himself, committing 'suicide-by-FBI'..." "Or it's not him that was controlling Silverfish." said Cindy, getting it. I was mildly disappointed that all of the FBI agents looked so shocked at her words. "So who was it then, Lieutenant Ross?" asked Jack Muscone, his voice seemingly derisive. "Don's buddy." Cindy said. "The Shadow Man, the 'real Moriarty'." I was tremendously pleased at Cindy's progress; I had not connected these dots for her. She was all over it like white on rice, and by her own thinking. "But why?" asked Sandra Speer. "That is where you have to consult with Crowbar 1... or his mother." said Cindy. "That'll take Troy thinking, and I'm not a Troy." Just then our food was brought to us, and our County's version of the Trojan War was forgotten, especially by Jack Muscone as he devoured his double cheeseburger. As we ate, I was contemplating the silver fish symbol that had been left at the crime scenes... now why use that? I wondered... Part 17 - Springing Another Trap Deputy Chief Robert Brownlee brought Sergeant McCombs, another man who was a Union rep, and a young patrolman down the hallway towards the Captain's offices, one of them being Cindy Ross's. It was after dark, and the halls were empty and nearly silent. "All right." said Brownlee. "I'm going to call her out, then find a way to get her to hit me or something. Then you guys move in." "Where is her boss?" asked Sgt. McCombs. "I don't want any part of this if he's around." "He went home early, he was up all last night." said Brownlee. "All right, let's go." Just then, Cindy Ross came out of her office. Just as she was going to lock the door, Robert Brownlee came up to her. "Ross." said Brownlee. "You are officially off duty. You must have a physical and be re-instated by a Board of Inquiry before you can carry a weapon or be on duty. These are my orders, Lieutenant." "Bull shit." Cindy Ross said. "You don't have that kind of authority." "I'm your superior officer, Lieutenant." said Brownlee. "You will obey my orders. If you don't, you'll be suspended and fired, and maybe even given jail time." "You're full of shit." said Ross. She tried to move forward, but Brownlee blocked her path. "Get out of my way." She tried to move past him. "You don't tell me what to do, you fucking dyke bitch." hissed Brownlee. He grabbed her arm and hurled her back against the wall between the offices, which were windows. As he moved towards her, she tried to move past him again... and when he tried to grab her she executed a couple of jabs at him, followed by a hard shot to the jaw that connected solidly. "You fucking dyke." Brownlee said again as he pretended to slump to the floor. "I'm going to have your badge for this unprovoked assault on a superior officer." "I saw everything, Chief." said Sgt. McCombs, coming into the room. "She threw the first punch." "I saw it, too." said the youngish patrol officer. Brownlee was grinning, but then his suppositions were changed. "That's not what I saw." said Lieutenant Tanya Perlman, coming up behind them from MCD. "Brownlee assaulted Ross, she defended herself." "Totally agree with Lieutenant Perlman." said Detective Martin Nash, coming up behind Perlman. "Looked like a sexual assault by Brownlee, also. "It's my word as the Deputy Chief against your lesser word, Lieutenant, and the even lesser word of your lying detectives." said Brownlee, getting up. "And you've got nothing, no proof. Detective Nash, your word is worthless here, and I'm going to have you fired, also." The door to the other office, the one that had been Harold Malone's but was now Wes 'Coldiron' Masters' office, opened up. Out popped Sergeant Rudistan. He was very jovial. "Oh, I dunno, Deputy Chief." said Rudistan happily, smiling brightly. "I got it all on camera here. You pushed first. Trying to hit a woman, too. Pretty cowardly of you." "You're full of shit, Rudistan." growled McCombs. "This is a trap, Commander. We're taking this one to I.A. and the Union." "And the Union is right here to back you up, Chief Brownlee." said the Union rep, coming into the room. "Give me that camera and the tape." said Brownlee. "No, keep that for I.A. and the Sheriff." said Cindy. "You'd better shut up, you fucking dyke." snarled Brownlee. "I'm going to ruin your bitch lover's career too, when I tell everyone you both are fucking lezzie queers. It's all over for you..." "I don't think so." Everyone whirled. The tall, broad-shouldered man coming out of Masters' office behind Rudistan was wearing all black and wielding a formidable weapon... a red crowbar. The look on his face was one that no one ever wanted to see... it meant someone was about to get hurt, very badly. "I think you know who it's about to be over for, Paper Pusher." I said menacingly, then turned to the others. "Perlman, Nash, take that video evidence and lock it in the MCD safe. Call Lt. Goodwin of I.A. to come get it immediately. Rudistan, keep watch over these two dirty cops and this Union thug. If any of them go for their guns, shoot them all dead. Yes, that is an order from me to shoot to kill, Rudistan." "I'll be sure to do that, Commander Troy." said Rudistan, whose joviality belied his serious intent to follow his Commander's orders. "Ross, hold this." I said. I handed her the red crowbar, making everyone gasp as I opened the door to Cindy's office. "No one is to come in here until I come out." With that I grabbed Robert Brownlee and shoved him violently into the office, slamming the door shut behind us. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Think that's going to do any good?" snarled Brownlee, still grinning. "Your dyke bitch is going down. She's gone, Troy." "We'll see about that." I said. "What I saw is you physically assaulting her, you little shit eater... and you're going to pay for that." "What, you gonna hit me?" Brownlee said. His hand went towards his gun. He could not have reacted fast enough, I was moving at lightning speed and my blow landed hard on his jaw. "Okay, okay, I surrender." said Brownlee, having staggered to his knees. That didn't save him. I wound up and threw the hardest punch I've ever thrown in my life. It connected solidly with his jaw just as he turned his head; I was aiming for his nose and mouth. Still, the *crunch!* that seemed to echo in the room was pleasing to hear. Something flew out of Brownlee's mouth. "What the fuck?" said Brownlee, who had fallen flat on the floor, dazed. He was now trying to cover his face as he struggled to his knees. "I warned you, fuckhead." I said. "And now comes retribution." I threw another uppercut, which was a level blow as he was still on his knees. It connected solidly and Brownlee fell back to the floor again, hard. I then stepped up and kicked him as hard as I could in the testicles. "Aauuuuggh!" he screamed. I tried to kick his testicles again, but he turned sideways, his hands and legs protecting his anatomical regions. So I kicked him as hard as I could in the back, just above the kidneys. Damn, I missed; I'd been trying to hit one of them. Another staggering blow to Brownlee's face, smashing his nose, followed by hard punches to his ribs and all-too-fat-protected abdomen. "Stop!" he gasped. "I said I give up!" "Tough shit, asshole." I said. "I'll stop when you're fucking dead." I rained more blows on him, trying to get shots in where I could, but he was getting a bit better at blocking them. "You will never, ever touch my partner again, you son of a bitch!" Brownlee then tried to fight back, trying to kick me. I intercepted the blow, then rose up and kicked him in the back again as hard as I could. I smashed down on his ribs, then turned him over and smashed my boot into his groin again. He was a bloody pulp now, sobbing and gasping. "Let me make sure you understand." I said, my knee pressing on Brownlee's chest with my full weight on it. I drew Brownlee's own pistol from his holster, and shoved it into his mouth. "Once again, bitch, you will never, ever fuck with Lt. Ross, or any of my people again. If you do, I will kill you. I don't care if I'm executed or go to prison, you will be dead first because I will have killed you." I jabbed the gun into his mouth harder. "Do you understand, shit eater?... I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Brownlee stared up at me in hatred. I pulled the gun out of his mouth and smashed it hard against his temple. "I can't hear you, mother fucker." I said. "You'd better answer, because I truly don't care if I go to jail for murder right now." I put the gun against his cheek near the eye. "I said: do you understand?" "All right, all right..." Brownlee gurgled. "I'll leave 'em alone." I stood up, backing off a bit. "I strongly recommend that you resign from the Force, Brownlee. Tonight. If you do anything, anything at all, you're going to get a bullet in the head. Maybe not from me, but you'll be fragged. And if you think you or your corrupt Union buddies are going to kill me, then understand that I have well over one hundred police officers ready to avenge me and kill you if anything happens to me. And then there will be the FBI agents that come after you and will shoot you on sight. And then the CIA on top of that. Think about it, Brownlee. The games are over." I kicked him one last time, really hard, aiming for his head but only getting him between the shoulder blades. Then I unloaded his weapon, picking up the cartridge that cleared when I worked the action. I threw the empty gun at Brownlee and it smashed into the side of his face. Pocketing the magazine and the cartridge, I turned and left the office, going back into the anteroom. Sgt. McCombs said "Let's go get him." As the youngish patrol officer went to follow, I stopped him. "Kid, I'll give you a reference if you resign from the Force tonight." I told the quaking young officer. "But you've chosen the wrong side. If you don't quit, your career is over anyway, and may God have mercy on your soul." The kid turned and scurried out the office and down the hall and out of the Headquarters building. I walked out, leaving McCombs and the Union rep to help what was left of Robert Brownlee out of the building and into a car. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "I had no idea you were in there." said Cindy in my office as I soaked my hand in ice water. "We just wanted to trap Brownlee, get him off our backs." "Bad plan, Crowbar 2, bad plan." I said. I'd caught wind of the plot: Jenna Stiles had a fake document about Cindy's health that she made sure Gor-don saw, and Gor-don had immediately made a copy and taken it to Brownlee. Jenna was disappointed that her assistant had been caught in an indiscretion, not wanting to believe what Cindy and Tanya had told her about Gor-don. Two birds killed with one stone... sort of. So I made Rudistan tell me what was going on, and told him I'd be right with him in "Coldiron's" office, knowing that even if Brownlee hit Cindy first, that she as a subordinate would take the fall. That was how the politics worked. And I was not about to let my partner take the fall, despite her bad plan. "You're right, it was bad. I'm not a Troy." Cindy asked, growing apprehensive as she realized that trouble was coming, trouble for all of us. "By the way, why did you hand me your crowbar? I can't tell you how shocked I was when you didn't take it in with you." "If I'd taken it in there, I would've murdered him." I said. "And I didn't need it to beat the shit out of that god-damned asswipe." "I'm sorry." said Cindy, looking downcast. "I didn't mean for it to go this far." "Well, on the bright side," I said, "you sped up the inevitable. It was only a matter of time before I took Brownlee down. He was asking for it." "If that doesn't teach him to stay out of the Crime Lab," said Tanya as she came inside, "then I don't know what will. Goodwin has the tape, Commander. He didn't look very happy about things, though. Think Brownlee is going to resign?" "Lieutenant Perlman," I said coldly, "I think we're going to be very, very lucky if we are not asked for our resignations... all three of us." Tanya looked at me in shock, realizing the truth of what I was saying. As much as I'd enjoyed beating down Brownlee and asserting my dominance over him, I knew that I'd gone way too far. Way too far. Part 18 - Aftermath I entered Sheriff Daniel Allgood's office... his office at the Sheriff Department in the County Building... on the morning of Wednesday, March 19th. I knew what was coming. I acted formal, waiting to be admitted to his office, then waiting for him to ask me to sit down... which he did not do. "Commander," the Sheriff said, not looking up at me but to the side as if in thought, "I spent a long night in front of the Town & County Council yesterday. The incident Monday night has created a situation that is almost completely out of my control." He turned to face me. "Goodwin turned over the tape and the investigation to Inspector Wellman. Wellman asserted to the Council that Brownlee did physically assault Ross first, but that Ross's physical reaction was more than self-defense. And Wellman says it is very fortunate that no one saw what happened between you and Brownlee. Brownlee was not taken to the Hospital, so there is no formal medical record of whatever damage you did to him, which I understand is considerable but not life-threatening." Silverfish Ch. 03 The Sheriff continued: "The Council is very divided on what to do. Almost half of them want to fire you. Malinda Adams, Pastor Westboro, Thomas Cook, and Kelly Carnes want you gone, especially Carnes, and they want a full Council vote on it to have it on the record. Of course Colby, Schoen, Goldman and Steele want to keep you, and that leaves McGhillie and Reginald B.F. Lewis. Lewis was surprisingly neutral, and McGhillie supports you but was put under pressure to abstain because his son is on the Force. He said he would not abstain if his vote made the difference, which was really all that held back the four that want you out." "There is good news." Allgood said, leaning forward as he spoke, with me still standing at near-attention but my eyes locking with his. "The representative of the Police Union was asked to comment. To the utter surprise of your enemies, Commander, he said that the Union had no grievance to file against you nor Lieutenant Ross, and they want this to be handled as an internal matter with the Sheriff." I was shocked to hear that, but I held my face to stony impassivity. Daniel continued: "And at that, I made a point to stand up to the Council and tell them that witness statements and the video showed that Brownlee instigated the incident. I asked the Council to fire Brownlee, which unfortunately I can't do myself. That just added to the divisions within them. So they're doing what politicians do: nothing. They're dropping the matter." "Officially, you're off the hook, as is Ross... but Brownlee is off the hook, too. It's now up to me, and I'm choosing to not make any formal reprimands to either side. However, I need not tell you that any further physical conflicts of this kind will result in the termination of the employment of the instigator. That is all. Dismissed." I turned to go. "Okay, the formal part is over. Come back in here and sit down." Allgood said. I complied, still saying nothing. I then received a shock as Daniel asked his secretary to admit someone. That someone was Chief Emeritus Griswold. He was dressed in civilian attire. He sat down next to me. "I know the threat of firing you is meaningless, Don. I pretty much told the Council that, and they know it, too." Daniel said. "But I want you to think of your officers now. It's no longer about you; it's about Lieutenant Ross, and ultimately all of your Detectives. The only reason Cindy Ross was not fired for hitting Brownlee, which is definitely insubordination, is because no one on the Council wants to go on record as forcing the firing of the woman Medal of Valor recipient, a recorded vote which Jack Colby threatened to force. Chief?" Tag. (I was being tag-teamed.) Chief Griswold said "Don, I know you began using the crowbar on Sergei Molotov because you wanted to create a persona and an atmosphere that you weren't playing around, and it worked. And we needed it, God! how we needed it. You've managed to clean up a lot of shit around here, not the least being Harold Malone and Steven Ikea, and to say you've improved the quality of this Police Force tremendously, while I was still there and now afterwards, would be superfluous. But we're reaching a critical point, here. Sheriff?" Tag. "Look," Daniel said, turmoil striking his face for the first time, "I know that we are brothers, we've become friends, I still don't know why you wanted me to run for Sheriff instead of yourself-" I raised a hand to stop him. "I did that partially because you're willing to say the words you are about to." I said. "Hell, you're still a step ahead of all of us." Daniel replied. "And yes, I'm going to say the words: I don't think anyone really cares that you, the Iron Crowbar, beat the shit out of a worthless piece of shit like Brownlee. But my concern, over which I consulted Chief Griswold, is that some of your officers are emulating you in ways that are unacceptable. The attack on Katherine Woodburn wasn't by you, but we're not idiots in this County: it was either Ross or Cummings that did that. Chief Griswold?" Tag. Griswold turned to me. "The bottom line, Don, is that you've got to tone it down. Not for yourself, but for the officers under you. I know you love Cindy Ross like family, and I might have done the same thing you did when Brownlee assaulted her... but she never would've begun that incident if she didn't know what you were willing to do. And that goes for whoever attacked Katherine Woodburn. That is definitely a by-product of the mystique of the 'Iron Crowbar', but it is not a good by-product. The news media are increasingly reporting on police abuse incidents, trying as hard as they can to start race riots in cities like New York and Baltimore. I don't want any of our officers adding to that, or giving the Media any fuel for what they're trying to instigate." "Commander," said Sheriff Allgood, "Think of it this way: if you're gone, there is nobody to protect Lt. Ross or any of your people against Brownlee. They and the entire Police Force would be completely at his mercy. I can't protect them, not like you can, and I really can no longer protect you with the Council. So it's up to you to get your people in line so that both the Council and myself are not put into any more... uncomfortable situations." I nodded, realizing that my presence was needed not so much for myself and my work, but the work of my people and the Force itself. "The Police Union reps are going to handle Brownlee, who will also receive a strong verbal reprimand from me." said Sheriff Allgood, finishing up. "We will have a new Chief soon; Brownlee will be his problem. In the meantime, if Brownlee starts something, let me and I.A. handle it; no matter how much you want to, don't react to him, leave it to others. Am I clear, Commander?" "Yes sir." I said. Lesson absorbed. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It was well after dark when two people entered Robert Brownlee's apartment in the northwestern area of Town where many middle-class people lived, including police officers. Already present were Sgt. McCombs and a woman dressed in leather for driving a motorcycle, the woman who had met Brownlee at the Hyatt to warn him in the past, a warning that Brownlee had been too stupid to heed. The new arrivals were the Police Union rep and State Senator Katherine Woodburn. The Senator was not in a good mood. "Robert," Woodburn said, trying to keep her temper, "what the fuck were you doing?" "That dyke bitch hit me first." Brownlee said sullenly. "She should be fired for insubordination at the least." "You really are an idiot, Robert." Katherine said. "No wonder your wife left you years ago." As Robert looked up at Katherine angrily, she continued: "There is no way in hell the Town & County Council is going to take your side over a woman that won the County Triathlon, took bullets for her fellow officers and earned the Medal of Valor. She is a genuine hero. The People of this Town and County love her." "By way of contrast," Katherine continued, maliciously hurling her words at Brownlee, "you are exactly what the Iron Crowbar calls you: a paper pusher. You have virtually no support within the Police Department, and your support with the political powers is eroding fast." "So what the fuck am I supposed to do, Senator?" Robert said angrily. "Just let these bastards walk all over me? I thought you wanted me to set up situations to get them out of there." "And you've fucked that up beyond repair now." Katherine replied. "We're going to have to retreat and regroup." "I'm not resigning." said Brownlee, misunderstanding. "Hell no, you're not!" yelled Katherine. "You're staying right where you are. These people and others worked like dogs to get you into the Deputy Chief position, and you're going stay there and be useful to us for a change. You need to just sit in your office and keep your eyes and ears open. You need to just let the Iron Crowbar and his people do their thing, then tell us what they are doing. You need to keep us very aware of what is going on inside the Police Department, and you're finally in the ideal position to do so." "I'll tell you something else, Robert." said the Union rep. "We can't support you any longer. The Sheriff asked the Council to fire you. We took up for you and the Council decided not to act at all over this incident, but they made it clear that there had better not be a next time. The Sheriff is leashing the Iron Crowbar, and I'm telling you now to just keep things quiet and cool, instigate nothing, and like the Senator said, keep your eyes and ears open." "I'll go even further and make one more suggestion." said the other woman in the room, her voice showing an authority that belied her slender body and normally quiet demeanor. "You need to delegate your duties to your subordinates, to Captain Aaron and Captain Harlow. Let them run the administrative offices for you. You just sit back, keep quiet, and when the proper time comes, we'll make our move to put you in the Chief's chair. But we can't do that if you get yourself fired because you are too fucking stupid to understand what is expected of you." The woman got up. "I've got to go. Senator, I'd suggest you keep a wide berth of the Iron Crowbar for a while, also. He's been smacked down, but only to a point. We'd rather have him here, where we can watch him, than have him quit and go to the FBI, where we'd be unable to watch him at all." With that the woman left, and a moment later the buzzing of a motorcycle could be heard as she quickly left the area. Part 19 - Epilogue Cindy and I were sitting on the outside patio of the Cop Bar, alone, on the evening of Thursday, March 20th. The fire in the fire pit was keeping us warm as we drank our beers. The reception we'd received as we went through the Cop Bar, which was full of police officers and firefighters, was very warm and supportive, which made us feel better. "Hi guys." Teresa said as she joined us on the patio. "They said you were out here by yourselves." "Yep." Cindy said as I pointed at a seat for Teresa to take and join us. "How'd it go with the Sheriff?" Teresa asked. She had not been at Headquarters all day. "We took our ass-chewings." said Cindy quietly. "All we can do now is drive on." "Aw, c'mon." said Teresa. "That was all started by Brownlee and we've got witnesses--" "Teresa," I said, interrupting her, "that's not the point. We put the Sheriff in a bad situation. He had to go to bat for us with the Council. He's been correct in everything he's done. We are lucky, and Cindy is especially lucky, that the Council didn't kick us both to the kerb. But, as Cindy just said, it's done now and all we can do is drive on." I then said what had to be said: "Ladies, there is one other thing I need to say, and here and now while we're alone is the best place and time to do it. I've definitely gone too far on a couple of occasions, and I fear that the example I've set has not been a good one. I don't know who beat down Katherine Woodburn, and I don't want to know. But that happened because of the example I set, also. "I need for you two and for Tanya Perlman to get the word out quietly and informally, but definitely make it trickle down, that we are going to have to tone it down and hold back. I'm especially going to have to do that myself, and you guys let everyone know that emulating crowbar beatdowns is no longer acceptable. The Enemy is now trying to use this against us, and we have to stop it for that reason. But we also have to stop it because we have to be on the side of Right, and we have to set the example. I am going to start setting a better example, and I need you to do that too." "No more Iron Crowbar?" asked Teresa incredulously. "Oh, I didn't say that." I replied with a bit of a grin, and then I got serious again: "Not until we've finished with our mission, which is to clean this County up. And that means getting rid of one very poisonous spider in the middle of a very tangled web of crime... a tangled web that once included a Silverfish..." Finis