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Case of the Parole Officer 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, The Phyllis Files 1-2, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Phyllis Files 3, 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, The Phyllis Files 4, Pale Morning Light series, Silverfish series, Cold As Ice series, Secrets of Apple Grove series, Sting of the Scorpion series, Reichenbach series.

Case Of The Parole Officer, 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 

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the beautiful redheaded reporterette into her microphone at 7:00am sharp on Monday, June 29th. "Channel Two News is bringing you continuing coverage of the death of billionaire Henry R. Wargrave. Mr. Wargrave died a week ago, June 22d, as a result of a fall from his office window thirty floors above the ground. State Senator Katherine Woodburn has called for a more thorough investigation of Mr. Wargrave's death."

A video tape rolled of Katherine Woodburn making a speech the previous Saturday: "I am calling upon the State Bureau of Investigation to examine the death of billionaire Henry Wargrave! There are too many questions surrounding his death, and too many coverups happening! I demand answers! And if the SBI investigation shows that Mr. Wargrave's death was not a suicide but a homicide, then I demand Justice on Mr. Wargrave's behalf!" The partisan crowd cheered.

"Now why is she so into Wargrave's death?" Cindy asked me as we watched the new flat screen television/computer monitor mounted to the wall in my office, to my desk's left. To the left of the screen was a small whiteboard, closed and locked.

"You're a Troy." I said with a grin. "Well, a Michaux, anyway. You tell me, mon cousin." Cindy gave me something between a glare and a happy look, then thought about it as I watched the second clip of Katherine Woodburn saying the same things in another speech.

Cindy said "She and Wargrave worked together and were friends, from what I've heard. So she might be rightly upset that her friend died, and maybe she really does see problems in the suicide explanation."

"Why expend political capital ginning up what the City's Coroner's Inquest has already called a suicide?" I asked.

"I don't know. Any hints?" Cindy said.

"I'll give you one: it's more practical than personal." I said.

Cindy caught on. "Ohhhh... she's laying groundwork! The State news media gets all hot and bothered by her speeches, which they'll cover because she's a 'highly esteemed' State Senator. Then the SBI comes in and says 'Sure, we will investigate for you, Senator!'."

"Yes, very good." I said. "But you weren't wrong in saying Woodburn was a friend of Wargrave, so don't let me take you off the path. There's a couple of extra pieces we can add to the puzzle. Who else was a good friend of Henry Wargrave?" 

"Gosh, he had many." Cindy said. "Dr. Wellman... but he would not want further publicity about Wargrave."

"True." I said. "And you just said it yourself... who would Woodburn have come and investigate?"

"The SBI." Cindy said. "But I don't know who Wargrave was tight with in the SBI."

"True enough." I replied. "So let me add even more: who was a good friend and associate of Henry Wargrave, plans to run for Governor, and was hoping for Wargrave's support in his run?"

"Oh." Cindy said. "SBI Director Jack Lewis. Molly told me a few weeks ago that the scuttlebutt is he'll announce on Labor Day weekend, and as a Democrat. Governor Jared is not planning to run again, so I don't know who the Republicans will put up against him."

"Very good." I said. "And you're right: Jack Lewis wants to open an investigation of this, and is having Katherine Woodburn gin up the press. And I'll take it further. I predict... that the SBI will open a full investigation of Wargrave's death by Thursday."

Just then there was a knock on my office door, followed by Lieutenant Tanya Perlman's cherubic face peeking in. "Sorry to break up the family conclave," she said with a grin, a reference to the recent discoveries of my and Cindy's family relationship, "but we have a report of a burglary in the Heritage Cloisters subdivision."

The Heritage Cloisters subdivision, Country Club, and golf course were by far the ritziest places in the County, occupied by the very most well-to-do citizens. Ahhh, a nice quiet political one, I thought with no small amount of acerbity.

Cindy said "Burglary or robbery? Victims present at the time?" In case you're wondering, 'burglary' is a crime that does not involve direct contact or violence with victims; in technical terms, 'robbery' requires a victim present to be held up, mugged, etc.

"No." Tanya said. "It's a burglary. They got home early this morning and discovered the crime."

Cindy said "Tell you what, give this one to Vice. They need some cross-training."

"Will do." said Tanya, withdrawing from the office.

I nodded. "Good call, Captain. I will be sure to inform the Chief of your quick and solid decision-making."

"Thanks." said Cindy. "I think I need all the help I can get with him. You sure he doesn't have something against me?"

"All I'm sure of," I said, "is that we have a crime in the wealthiest, most influential neighborhood in the County. Let's go examine it, shall we?"

Part 2 - The Crime Scene 

"We went down to our vacation home in West Palm Beach," said Mr. Hamilton Myers, "and we got back we found all the silverware missing, the silver candelabra, three extremely valuable paintings, all of my antique guns, my wife's jewelry, and about $20,000 in cash from the safe in my study." 

Myers was about 70 years old, with a full head of white hair, still broad-shouldered and in decent shape. His wife Erlene was once a very attractive woman but her skin was showing the effects of way too many years sunbathing, and her silver hair was a wig, if I didn't miss my guess. They were retired and wealthy residents of the County when they weren't in Florida, and were graduates of the University and therefore large contributors to the local Institution of Higher Learning.

"What about the alarm system, sir?" asked Detective (J.G.) Christopher Purvis. Purvis was extremely straight-laced, black hair, spoke in a peculiar voice, was religious but kinda weird. He was often called 'Chris Pervert' behind his back, though he had no particular perversions of which I was aware.

"I am absolutely sure that my wife set it before we left last week." said Myers. "The staff was given time off with pay for vacation time, and they don't know the codes."

As Purvis continued to talk with Myers and his wife, Lieutenant Teresa Croyle was watching the Crime Lab technicians at work. I came up to her.

"Whaddya got, Croyle?" I asked.

"Nothing yet, Commander." replied Teresa 'Cunt'. She was not in a very good mood, as the unexpected case assignment had interrupted the Vice Division's morning coffee time. "I do have a request of you, sir: the new electronics technician, Mark Walker, is looking at the alarm. He's relatively new, and I know you're an expert on that stuff, sir..."

"Okay, I'll go scare the living bejesus out of the new guy for you." I said. "By the way, Lieutenant, I need not tell you that the Myerses are wealthy and influential with the politicians and University brass, so make sure everyone looks and acts their professional best."

"Roger that, sir." said Teresa. "Purvis is a nerd, but he's the most outwardly professional of my bunch, save for Julie Newton. The Crime Lab people are the best, as always."

"Yes, they are." I said as I walked out of the study. I found Technician Walker using an electronic device on the alarm.

"Technician Walker, I'm Commander Troy." I said. "Welcome to the TCPD Crime Lab team. What do you have for me?"

"Oh, hello sir." he said, shaking my hand. "It looks like this system was defeated by a shunt here." He pointed to a spot on the electronics board. "The way this works is---"

"Yes," I said, interrupting, "I know the basics of it. So he shunted it in the 30 seconds he had while the alarm was awaiting the keycode to shut it off. This is a Williams Brothers alarm system; that's one of its two weaknesses. Make a notation so we can notify the company of their continued failure to fix those weaknesses."

"Uh, yes sir." said Walker, looking at me strangely.

"Also, this alarm system should leave a record of it being activated and deactivated, either within the house or with an alarm company. We'll need those printouts. The shunt should cause an entry to be made when it was put on and when it was taken off." 

"It's with an alarm company that services the subdivision." said Walker. "I've already told Sergeant Irwin about it, and he's contacting them."

"Great. Keep up the good work." I said. I went back into the study.

"No prints, except for Mr. Myers's." said Teresa. "So far, anyway. We did check the alarm panel for prints before letting Walker into it; no joy there. We're checking around the frames of the paintings that were cut out, and the drawers where the silverware was and the cabinets where the antique guns were, and around the safe..."

"I'll be pleasantly stunned if they find any." I said. "I'm sure someone is getting an inventory of the guns stolen?"

"Absolutely." said Teresa. "First thing I asked Mr. Myers for, and I'll be contacting the FBI and SBI myself about them."

"Good." I said. "So, Croyle, what's your analysis?"

"You won't take 'not enough data yet', will you?" Teresa asked.

"As a matter of fact, I will." I said. "And it was exactly what I wanted to hear. Carry on. I only have a few questions for the Myerses, and I'll be on my way and out of your hair. Come with me."

With Teresa in tow, I went up to Mr. Myers and introduced myself. "Sir," I said, "was the alarm active when you got home? Did you enter the code to shut it off?"

"Er, yes, yes I did." said Myers.

"Good. Let me also ask..." I said, "... you have many more than three very valuable paintings here, including that Greuze in your study. Why would the burglar take the three that he took?"

"I... I have no idea." said Myers. "The Greuze is a replica, though." He then described the three missing paintings, all water- or sea-related paintings by an artist that had died two years before. Myers had acquired the paintings several years before, and at different times at art exhibits while the artist was still alive.

"Were the paintings insured?" I asked.

"Yes," said Myers, "but not for what they were truly worth. I also had insured two others in my office and one at our home in Florida. The silverware is covered as part of the overall house coverage, and the guns had a rider on that coverage."

"Did any of your staff know the value of these paintings or the guns?" I asked.

"I doubt it." said Myers. "I don't recall ever discussing their value with anyone but my wife and my insurance agent. I bought the paintings, as well as the ones remaining here, because I liked them for the house, not as a financial investment. As to the guns, I used to do a lot of cowboy action shooting, and I picked up pieces from time to time. I never really discussed which ones were the antiques and which ones were more modern replicas, and therefore less valuable."

"What about the cash and jewelry in the safe?" I asked. "Who knew about that? And who knew the code to the safe?"

"Only my wife and myself." said Myers. "The combination is sealed in an envelope with my attorney, who will be executor of my will when that time comes. I almost never get into that safe, though. The staff might not have even been aware it was there behind the Greuze."

"I see. Thank you, sir." I said. "If you have any questions, Lt. Croyle here is an exceptionally capable Detective. We'll let you know what we find as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Commander." said Myers. I could see that Teresa appreciated my compliments of her.

"By the way, where is your wife?" I asked.

"She's in the kitchen, drinking tea to calm her nerves." said Teresa. "Do you need to talk with her, Commander?"

"I'll just say hello to her. You go ahead and get everyone to get wrapped up." I said. I suited the deed to the word and went into the kitchen, where Mrs. Myers was talking with Officer Lydia Green.

"Hello, Mrs. Myers," I said. "I'm Commander Troy. I'm sorry for your losses."

"Thank you." said Erlene Myers, her eyes seeming to take sneak peeks at me. Seeing that I'd noticed, she said "So you are the Iron Crowbar. Such a young man to have done so much."

"Thank you, ma'am." I said as I observed the woman. "I only have a few questions for you. First, has any of your staff been recently let go, or recently hired?"

"Your people asked me that already." said Mrs. Myers. "And the answer is that we've had no recent hirings or firings. The staff at this home have been with us for three years or more, all of them."

"I see." I said. "And I apologize for any redundancy in the questions. Let me ask: who did you tell that you were going to Florida this past week?"

"Oh my goodness." said Erlene, thinking. "All of my friends at the club. We play contract bridge tournaments every Wednesday while our husbands play golf, so I had to tell them I wouldn't be there. We go to Florida several times a year, often for weeks at a time during the winter, as do the other ladies, so there's nothing unusual about this time."

"And no one had the alarm codes to the house?" I asked. "You didn't have someone stay and babysit?"

"Oh no," said Erlene, "the Cloisters is gated with a guard at all times, probably off duty police officers. The house had the alarm system, which we were assured was the very best money could buy. And no one but Mr. Myers and myself knew the code."

"Oh, not even a friend in case you needed urgent help?" I asked.

"If we needed help, then tripping the alarm would be the best thing to happen." Mrs. Myers said.

"Yes, that's certainly true, ma'am." I said, smiling my most charming smile. "So do you have any idea why the thief or thieves wouldn't have stolen more of the paintings?"

Erlene glanced around, then said "It appears that they took the most valuable ones. Hamilton was always talking about those sea paintings, and how much he liked them. He said they might be worth something if the artist ever died, but the artist wasn't that old. And then the artist did die, but I don't think Hamilton was concerned about their increased value. He just liked the paintings, like he liked his little cowboy guns."

"I see." I said. "Do you think any of your staff overheard him talking about the value of the paintings, or the guns, or the jewelry? Or maybe the cash in the safe?"

"I doubt it." Erlene said. "He talked about the paintings, but more as if he were talking about a favored dog. Do you like dogs, Commander?"

"I love 'em." I said. "I've got a great rescue dog at home."

"Good." said Erlene. "My favorite charities are the ones that rescue dogs and find them good homes." After a brief pause, she said "Is there anything else you need, Commander?"

"No, ma'am." I said. "I appreciate you taking the time to answer my questions. My Team will be working diligently on your case, and if there's anything you can think of that might help us, please give Lt. Croyle a call."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Walking outside, I saw Captain Ross examining the grounds with several uniformed officers. She peered at me as I walked up.

"Where's your crowbar?" Cindy asked.

"In my SUV." I said. "Perps need to see it. The average citizens like to see it. The people that live here?" I let my hand sweep around to mean the subdivision. "They don't give a rat's ass about it, nor anything not in their social circle. So no point in carrying it."

Cindy laughed. "Thanks for telling me." she said sarcastically, exhibiting the Blue Crowbar. 

"And what is the Blue Crowbar telling you about this case?" I asked.

"Not a thing." Cindy said. "We've got no footprints or traces anywhere. No windows or doors forced. We're going to have officers canvas the homes with any visibility to this house to see if any vans or trucks drove up, anything out of the ordinary. Teresa had someone contact the subdivision property managers to get all the names of the guards at all the gates. Some of them are TCPD and do this job off-duty."

"Cool beans." I said. "So, any ideas?"

"No data yet, Mr. Holmes." Cindy said with alacrity. My people were learning, my people were learning, I thought happily.

I lowered my voice. "Here's a piece of data, and for your ears alone, Crowbar 2: that Greuze that the safe is behind? The one Mr. Myers said was a replica?"

"What about it?"

"I'm not the biggest art expert in the world," I said, "but I'd bet a paycheck that it's not a replica, but the real thing."

"And... and the thieves left it there?" Cindy practically gasped.

"Yep." I said. "A strangeness, n'est pas?" Just then I received a text on my police cellphone. It was Jack Muscone. I replied that I was on an important case and would meet with him and his boss later that evening.

Cindy was looking around. "You know, Don," she said quietly, "I've never thought much about having money, having a lot of it. I've never wanted big, ostentatious houses like these, or fancy cars and such. I've never seen the point, and I don't care about 'keeping up with the Joneses'. But now... well, one day in the future I might be inheriting a lot of money when my father, Dr. Eckhart, dies, and I'm not going to know what to do with it. I do know this, though... I don't care to live in this subdivision. It's giving me a vibe... a bad vibe."

I smiled. "I hear you." I replied. "I've never been one to want to show off wealth if I had it, either. There's a line in the book 'Atlas Shrugged' where Midas Mulligan used his wealth for selection instead of accumulation, and he used it for comfort more than showing off. That's me: I rebuilt the Cabin to be as comfortable and convenient to me as possible, not giving a damn what others thought about it."

Cindy smiled. "Yeah, but it still looks good. Anyway, the bridge club will just have to do without me, I guess. I'm sure they'll be devastated."

"Their loss." I said. "Okay, I need to go back to my car for a minute."

"Why?"

"To get my crowbar." I said. "I like having it with me, and why should I give a damn if these people give a damn or not?" I heard Cindy laughing out loud as I went to fetch it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 3:00pm the meeting convened in Classroom 'C', Vice's classroom behind their room and next door to MCD's Classroom 'E'. Present were: Chief Bennett at the head of the table, Lt. Teresa Croyle at the far end, Detective Christopher Purvis, Detective Julie Newton, Data Specialist Sonali, the Crime Lab's J.R. Barnes, Sergeant Irwin, Lieutenant Tanya Perlman, Captain Cindy Ross, and myself, Your Iron Crowbar. I was sitting to the Chief's immediate left.


Case of the Parole Officer Ch. 01



"Okay, Lt. Croyle," said the Chief. "Tell us what your group has. Keep it short and simple."

"Yes sir." said Teresa. "First, I'll talk about the victims and their deep background. Hamilton and Erlene Myers have been married 45 years, no children. He was an insurance salesman and made enough money to invest in the bond markets. Over time, he leveraged bonds to the tune of making about 200 million dollars. He retired about nine years ago. His wife is originally from Florida and he has a boat down there, not quite a big-time yacht but nice enough. He likes to play golf; hence, his membership in the Heritage Cloisters Country Club.

Teresa continued: "His wife Erlene graduated from college--"

"Excuse me, Lieutenant," said Chief Bennett, interrupting. "Do we really need to know the background this far back?"

"Yes sir, we do." I replied, cutting in as I looked at the Chief. "This information could be very essential to the case of why they were chosen to be burgled." I nodded to Teresa, whose look of gratitude towards me overcame her look of anger at the Chief for interrupting her. I might add that one Captain Ross had a similar look on her ruggedly pretty features.

Teresa continued: "Mrs. Myers's degree was in Fine Arts. She met Mr. Myers at an art exhibit at the City Art Museum. She likes to swim and to sunbathe, and she played some golf and some tennis until the aches and pains of age limited her athleticism. Now her biggest hobbies are contract bridge at the club every Wednesday, and the 'Social Circuit'. She and Sally Wellman, wife of the University President, are pretty good friends, and she assists Mrs. Wellman with University-related social occasions often... well, at least when big money donors are involved, from what I gathered."

The Chief was getting very fidgety and uncomfortable with what were to him mundane details. Fortunately, Teresa was getting to the present:

"Coming up to the crime: the Myerses have lived in the Heritage Cloisters subdivision since it was built some fifteen years ago. They often go to Florida, in fact they practically live there in the winter months. They left for a week down there eight days ago."

Teresa consulted some notes, then said: "The alarm logs suggest the alarm was deactivated Wednesday night about 9:00pm, just after sunset. It was reset about an hour later, at 9:58pm. Sgt. Irwin, what do you have on the neighbors?"

Sergeant Irwin said "Neighbors noted a 'Home Freight Delivery' truck come to the house Wednesday evening, but no one saw it leave. The guard at the front gate dutifully logged the in and out times for the truck, but said he didn't remember any details about it."

Teresa said "I'm sure the Commander will be interested in the gate guard's name: TCPD Patrol Officer Justin Hendricks."

"Yes, I am indeed interested in that." I said, sitting up straight. "You've interviewed him?"

"I did." piped up Detective Purvis. "He barely remembered the truck at all, said they get deliveries there in the evenings all the time because they sleep late in that subdivision and don't want morning deliveries. He also said that some deliveries might be worth a lot of money, so they deliver when the occupants are most likely to be at home."

"That makes sense." said Chief Bennett.

"Purvis, what is Hendricks's full schedule working at the Heritage Cloisters? What days and hours is he there?" I asked.

"Uhh..." Purvis said, then became red-faced. "Sorry sir, I don't have that information."

"Someone needs to get that information, Lt. Croyle." I said to the Vice Squad Lieutenant, who was responsible for her people's failures, and she knew it. She wasn't happy, and she glared at Purvis.

"We'll get that information very quickly, Commander. Sergeant Irwin, will you handle that?" Croyle said. Irwin said he would, then I then told Teresa to continue with her case information.

Teresa said "The items stolen include all of the silverware, which was in a locked lowboy in the dining room. The lock was a simple one and easily picked. The value of the silver is in the tens of thousands of dollars. Also, all of the jewelry from the jewelry box in the bedroom and in the safe, and we're not sure of the exact value of the gems. There was $20,000 in cash in the safe; that was taken. Then there's the guns--"

"Let me ask before you go on." I said, interrupting. "How was the safe opened?"

J.R. Barnes said "It looks like the perp may or may not have had a device that could read the combination. It was an electronic numeric-entry keypad device. There was no evidence of the safe being forced or jimmied open."

"So that excludes you as a suspect, Commander." Teresa said, a tiny gleam of amusement in her eyes. I laughed, which was tepidly joined by everyone... except the Chief.

"And the paintings and guns?" I asked, wondering why the Chief was in such a mood.

"Three paintings, cut out of their frames which were bolted to the walls." Teresa reported. "Mr. Myers said he bought them from an artist..." She looked at a paper and named the artist's name; I'd never heard the name. "Myers said he paid a total of about $70,000 for the three works. The artist gained some level of fame, then died suddenly in the City at the age of forty-three. Myers said those works might fetch between half a million and a million dollars each now."

"Good grief, I'm in the wrong profession." Cindy Ross said. "I should've taken up painting."

"You have to die for your paintings to become worth something, and I prefer you alive and working with me." I said. "And the guns, Croyle?"

"Mostly antique revolvers, some shotguns." Teresa said. "Some were from the 19th century and would be worth a good bit at auction, while others were more modern. Mr. Myers said he used all of them at various times in his cowboy shooting competitions, and bought the antiques at various times when they became available, sometimes from estate sales. Again, he didn't seem to care about the value of the pieces as much as using them."

"Okay, this is for anyone who talked to him: how did Mr. Myers feel about losing his paintings and guns?" I asked.

"Come to think of it," said Purvis, "he didn't seem to be too upset about any of it. Quiet and even about it."

"I agree, sir." said Sergeant Irwin. "He wasn't indifferent, but he seemed to be rolling with it, taking it in stride."

"Yes." said Teresa. "He didn't seem to be overly bothered or emotional about the value of the stolen items. Maybe a bit disappointed about not having the paintings on his wall any more."

"Good. Good observations by all of you." I said. "Any sign of forced entry into the home?" Teresa looked at the Crime Lab technician.

"No sir." said J.R. Barnes. "Not that we could find. The door inside the garage to the home was left unlocked, according to both Mr. and Mrs. Myers. We think the outer door to the garage may have been left unlocked, then the perp locked it when he left. There are a lot of faint footprints in the garage that showed up under the UV light, some dust being moved around. Some of the footprints are tennis shoes that do not match anything the Myerses own."

Teresa picked it back up, seeing that the Chief was again restless. She said "Julie and Sonali are running data. Julie is looking into the Myers's finances, and Sonali is looking for matches of the 'M-O's with this case. Sonali?"

"Yes ma'am." said Sonali, speaking good English but with an Indian accent, since her parents were immigrants from India. "I'm searching for art thieves as well as fencers household valuables, and criminals that use delivery trucks to enter neighborhoods and homes. Detective Newton is inquiring with the FBI and contacting art auction houses, and I sent an alert to all the pawn shops in this State and the ones adjoining ours. So far, nothing has come up."

Teresa said "I've contacted the SBI, FBI, and any points of contact necessary about the antique guns so that they'll be on the lookout."

I said "That's good... but Sonali, add something to your search. Search for a criminal that disables alarms with electronic shunts, someone with good knowledge of alarm systems." Sonali made a note of that. I said "Newton, anything on the finances?"

"Not yet." said Julie "The Abacus" Newton, who was a wizard at accounting, book keeping, money laundering, tax evasion, and whatever else I could think of that involved criminal money flows. She was invaluable to us in that capacity.

She continued: "The Myerses have no debt at all. Two homes, one here, one in the West Palm Beach, Florida area. He owns a boat, fully paid for. Since he's retired, he's not leveraged in anything. He took his money out of almost every investment brokerage about five years ago, only having two accounts holding literally all of his money, which are set up as trusts and paying monthly amount and his various automatic bills, such as the boat dock in Florida. Nothing strange in his transactions, so far, but I've just begun checking."

"Anything else?" asked the Chief. "Ready to solve this one, Commander?"

"I think today will be Sonali's day to shine." I said. "When she gets the 'M-O' of the perp and some names. Anything else, Lt. Croyle?" I asked.

"No sir." said Teresa. "Purvis? Irwin?" Neither had anything to add.

The Chief dismissed us all, being the first to leave, and quickly. I said to Teresa, "Croyle, my office." She followed me into my office, as did Cindy.

"I'm sorry about Purvis not being prepared--" Teresa started as I pointed for her to sit down in a chair and Cindy in the other. I stopped her.

"Don't worry about it." I said. "He just learned, if the hard way. Reinforce it, but remember to bring him back to the lure and compliment him on the good work he has done. But do find out about Hendricks's schedule, confirm it with the security company for the Heritage Cloisters."

"Yes sir." Teresa said.

"And one other thing." I said. "I know you told Julie to do this, but I want you to follow up with the auction houses, pawnshops, any places where the loot could be pawned or fenced. I'm sure Julie is doing it, but I want redundancy there. Go ahead and do that now." Teresa acknowledged the instructions, and left.

"So, Cindy," I said, "what do you think, now that you have some data?"

"You know" Cindy said, her face looking perplexed. "There is something wrong, something out of place here. But I can't quite place my finger on it. I re-read all the case notes of all the officers at the scene before going into the meeting, and I don't see it... but something just is not right."

"Like what?" I asked, peering at Cindy.

"Like... well, like that question you asked. Mr. Myers isn't acting like I'd expect a man to act who'd just lost his favorite paintings, his favorite guns, his house violated..."

"Yes, that's true." I said. "He did seem very calm about it all. And there's something you may not have seen: when I questioned him, I brought up his Greuze, which he had not mentioned to anyone else before. Yet he not only showed no surprise that I had recognized the piece as well as its value, he seemed to not worry that it had been left while other, less valuable pieces remained behind. Yes, he said it was a replica, but I seriously wonder if he doesn't know that it's a real Greuze. And that has me wondering... who are these art thieves that know enough to take three valuable pieces but leave a 20 million dollar painting hanging on the wall, untouched?"

"Like I said," Cindy replied, "I am in the wrong profession..."

"No, you're not." I replied. "You are where you should be, doing what you do best. Oh, one more thing: get with Myron and Mary, don't speak to Julie or Sonali about this. I need them to capture cellphone pings from about half an hour before the crime to half an hour after the alarm was reset. Hopefully our perp carried a cellphone, even a burner, and if we find it on him it'll help us immensely."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thirty minutes later, I was asked to come to the main conference room. Sergeant Irwin, Detective Purvis and Lt. Croyle were there, as were Patrol Officer Justin Hendricks... and the Police Union rep.

"Commander, what is the purpose of interrogating this officer?" the Union rep said as soon as I opened the door to come in.

"And good afternoon to you, too." I said. "To answer your question: this is not an interrogation. But I'm glad you're here, so you can see that it's just getting some eyewitness information and not harassing Officer Hendricks. Go ahead, Lieutenant." Teresa then deferred to Purvis.

"So you work at the Cloisters on Wednesday afternoons from 4:00pm to midnight?" Purvis asked.

"Yes." said Hendricks, calmly. "Wednesday is my day off from the Force."

"There's nothing wrong or against regulations about him working there." said the Union rep.

"No one said there was." I said sharply, then bore down hard on the Union rep. "Again, this isn't about getting Hendricks in trouble. It's about what he witnessed while on duty there. Hendricks, can you describe the man in the delivery truck in question?"


"He had on coveralls and a hat which he kept low over his eyes." said Hendricks. "He showed his I.D., and I wrote the name on the log, but I don't remember it."

"I wouldn't expect you to." I said. "Was he a regular delivery driver to the Cloisters?"

"I don't know." said Hendricks. "I only work there Wednesday evenings. I don't really remember him from any other truck drivers or delivery people."

"What was his hair and eye color?" I asked.

"He had the hat on, so I didn't see any hair, and he never really looked at me so I didn't see his eyes very well."

"Like he was avoiding looking at you." I said.

"Yes sir, I guess so, now that you mention it."

"Okay, Croyle, I'm done here." I said. "But if you can think of fifty other questions to ask, just to waste the Union rep's time, be my guest." Teresa grinned, her eyes boring evilly into the Union rep, who became uncomfortable.

With that, I left the room. I went into my office and called in Master Technician Mary Mahoney for an assignment.

Part 3 - Agency Blues 

I knocked on the Chief's door at 6:30pm. He had me come in.

"Sir, I've got to go to the Federal Building." I said. "Is there anything you need before I leave?"

"Come in just one second." said Chief Bennett. "Close the door." I did so.

"First," the Chief said, "the FBI people have called not once but twice asking if you can come over. I told them I'd send you over when you could break away from the burglary case you're working on. Any idea why they are so jumpy to get you over there?" 

"Yes sir." I said. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes." said the Chief, deadpan flat, his face serious.

"I suspect it's about Henry Wargrave." I said. "The Deputy Director was a bit pissed that he managed to die before I could arrest him. I'm kind of hoping he'll fire me for it."

"I see." said the Chief. "So tell me this: are all the meetings about cases like the one this afternoon?"

"Uhhhh, pretty much, sir." I said. "Usually a little more dull than today was." The joke didn't go over well.

"Did Chief Griswold run the meetings like that?" Bennett asked.

"Well," I said with a pause, then continued, "he asked about a million more questions, until he figured out I could ask fewer questions and get more answers anyway. But yes, he pretty much ran his meetings that way. He wanted as many details as possible."

"Commander," Bennett said, "if I let you run those meetings then have you give me the Cliff Notes later, would you have a problem with that?"

"No sir." I said. "Though if you're there, you can ask any questions that come to your mind and get an answer that I'll have to go back for."

"I'd agree if I weren't talking to the man with a mind like a steel trap." said Bennett. "If it's something I need to hear because I'm dealing with the Council, the Sheriff or the Press, then have me come in. Otherwise, you drive 'em."

"Yes sir." I said. Not going to argue this small blessing, I thought to myself. 

"Okay, go ahead. Good night." said the Chief. "Tell the FBI people I said hello and to stop trying to hire you away from me."

I grinned, then said goodnight and left.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"We really needed him alive." said Jack Muscone.

We were in the FBI's offices at the Federal Building off Courthouse Square. In the room were Jack, myself, my wife Laura, and the DepDirector of the FBI. For the first time, I did not get a sense of power and mastery from him. Instead, I felt his aggravation. He was not sitting down, standing on his side of the table. The three of us were sitting down, on the other side.

"Yes." said the DepDirector. "We were done no favors by Wargrave's death."

"That's one opinion." Laura said levelly. "Others differ. Especially mine."

The Deputy Director turned a baleful eye upon my wife, but said nothing. In the Washington power schemes, Laura technically outranked him, if barely. He also knew the woman's husband was sitting across the table from him. And maybe, just maybe, he knew that ultimately, she was right.

I said "Because your Agency's overseas operations now cannot be exposed by a trial of Henry Wargrave?"

"That's a lot of it." said Laura. "Especially our operations in the Russian Federation. Mr. Putin is not a forgiving man when it comes to catching foreign spies, and I don't want our people to get caught and then killed."

"I can understand that." said the DepDirector, who then looked at me. "But there are existential threats to the Homeland, as well. We might have had Superior Bloodlines at our mercy if you had arrested Wargrave instead of..."

"Instead of him committing suicide?" I said, knowing what he was insinuating. "Sir, allow me to reassure you that if Wargrave had not thrown himself out of his office window and I'd been in time to secure his arrest, he would not have been able to help you with the Bloodlines group one bit. They, and other Big Boyz, cut him off a while back after he went to the Dark Side and committed to our Consultant of Crime. Then the Consultant betrayed him, as well. After being stabbed in the back that often, I can see why he'd want to jump out of a window."

"And how do you know this?" said Jack Muscone. He had not been especially happy about me pointing my finger at him and saying "Bang!", as I had not told him about the attempt on his life. I bought him a double cheeseburger and told him what I did beat the alternative (to really shoot him), but he was still a bit ticked off... more at not getting the arrest of Wargrave than anything else.

"Some things came to light during 'Operation Gravestone'." Laura said. "Others by my husband's deductive abilities. Conrad King cut Wargrave off; they had not met nor communicated in months. King was the liaison to Wargrave. King's son is now in France, having somehow been sprung from Federal prison..." That was a shot at the FBI, I realized, and I deduced that things were not going well between certain agencies at the highest national levels.

"Okay, okay." said the DepDirector, not going there. He finally sat down. "Well, Commander, you did lose a possible inroad to your Consultant of Crime."

"Yes." I said. "Yes I did. And sure, Wargrave could have named him... or her... but I don't think he had the real proof I need to bring the Consultant down and secure a conviction, nor arrest and convict the many members of his various gangs. Wargrave's financial records are still there, and the FBI has a lot of them, so if there's a clue there, we'll find it anyway."

I then hit them with my bombshell: "But sir, what I'd like to point out is this: why did Wargrave not run when he had the chance? He could easily have been out of the country, could've eluded everyone... yet he chose to stay in the area and, ultimately, to die. Did he have so few friends that he could not have found safe harbor somewhere? Would his considerable contacts and talents be of use to someone, some nation, even?"




Case of the Parole Officer Ch. 01



"We wiped those out." said Laura.

"In the Middle East, yes." I said. "But everywhere? And he still could've set up new operations, financed by rogue nations... or even the Russian Federation itself. Mr. Putin likes to avail himself of the abilities of talented people."

"Sir," said Jack Muscone, "I think this is another one of those 'Salem' moments." He meant that I was doing or realizing something that would've had me burned at the stake 400 years ago.

"Yes, I agree." said the DepDirector, working hard to control himself at the moment. "So, Commander, he didn't run. Why not?"

"He cut a deal... to save his wife's life, which was under threat by our Consultant of Crime. She inherits what money her husband had left in trusts, she'll live comfortably for the rest of her life, and he doesn't have to live the rest of his life in the misery of having to stay on the run and to rebuild at the mercy of a benefactor... especially one like the aforementioned Mr. Putin."

"Even accepting that," said the DepDirector, "let's not play games here: your Consultant got you to do his dirty work. Call it suicide if you like, and I understand 'plausible deniability', but admit it... he manipulated you."

"All right." I said agreeably. "I admit that he manipulated me." I was unable to keep a sly grin off my face. The Director noticed, his eyes narrowing as he peered at me.

"And speaking of manipulation," said the DepDirector, "Wargrave tried to manipulate you into killing one of my agents. Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy that failed... but it was Eckhart's process that might have made that possible in the first place. Why shouldn't I have that place shut down, and Eckhart in prison for the rest of his life?" Laura looked over at me, unable to hide the worry in her face.

"Because, sir," I said with alacrity, "you want to take down Superior Bloodlines." Who did this man think he was playing games with? I thought to myself.

The Director understood, as did Muscone. "So... what do we do now?" Muscone asked.

"You can call the lawyers of Gresham & Mason, P.C." I said, my voice inflective of a joke, but a serious clue underlying my comment. The Director looked like he wanted to shout at me, but held himself, then realized what I was saying.

"Yes." he said. "We've already been looking into that. Jack, what do you have?"

"It may be the inroad we need." said Muscone. "We've very quietly looked into the many offices of Gresham & Mason and their associate law firms around the country. They have offices in cities, but those may be to facilitate their operations in smaller counties and communities. We've found many places where they're operating and the same political things happening that occurred in Apple Grove, in this Town and County, and in California, where Sergeant Carroll's buddy Patrolman Delmar found work."

"Ah, him again." I said.

"Yes." said the Director, getting up. "I have to go back to Washington tonight. I'll try to convince the top brass that Wargrave's death is not the huge setback they think it is."

"Don't worry." said Laura. "I've already taken care of that... as have the top brass in my Company." The Director looked something between shocked and angry, but said no more.

As Laura and I left with Jack, I said "Jack, why don't you join Laura and me at the Chop House for dinner, my treat."

"Sure." said Jack. "But let me pay for it, and expense it. I do owe you for not really shooting me, even if my boss is pissed off about not being told about that."

"It was for the best." Laura said. "If you knew, Don's ruse might not have worked--" She was interrupted by an insistent ringing of her cell phone, her 'Company business' phone. She took the call.

"Happy happy, joy joy." she said as she hung up. "I get to go to Washington for meetings, also. But they can wait; I'm not going to miss a good steak dinner..."

Part 4 - The Meeting 

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" blared the lovely redheaded reporterette at 7:00am, Tuesday, June 30th. "Channel Two News has learned that the burglary at the home of Hamilton Myers in the Heritage Cloisters neighborhood is the latest of no less than six burglaries in that subdivision in the last three months, and there were three other burglaries in other affluent neighborhoods north of Town, as well."

"The Town & County Police Force issued a statement saying only that they are continuing to investigate the crimes, and that they have increased patrols in the Third Precinct, where these burglaries were committed. Asked why Commander Troy's Police Force has not yet solved these crimes, Sheriff Daniel Allgood said, and I quote: 'Commander Troy carries a crowbar, not a magic wand. His Police Force is working on the cases. Crimes such as these are not often solved within a day or two, and KXTC is being unfair to suggest that they should be.'."

Bettina continued: "Town & County Councilman Thomas P. Cook issued a statement on behalf of the Council, saying 'The Council has heard the concerns of our citizens, and we expect the Police Force to work diligently to solve these burglaries and prevent future ones.'. Councilman John Colby issued a counter-statement on behalf of several Council members, saying that the Police Force was doing an excellent job, as always, and he had full confidence they would solve the cases..."

"Hoo boy." I muttered as I drank my coffee with Cindy and the MCD Detectives in the MCD room. "Okay guys, my ass hurts already in anticipation, but it is my fault that we have not paid more attention to this. So Perlman, start looking into these cases. Work with Croyle on the ones Vice has been looking into, see if you can find some common patterns."

"Yes sir." Tanya said soberly.

"Commander," said Detective Theo Washington, "are they really so jaded they expect you to solve everything in minutes?"

"When I was at Airborne School," I said, "I had to go through a drill of doing parachute landing falls, and had to do a lot very quickly. When I did them all, the 'Black Hat' there made me do pushups, and he said 'You're too good for your own good.'. Well, this is the same damn thing: the price of us, not just me but all of you, doing a good job... and I get to do the equivalent of push-ups for it. Don't sweat it; let's get up to speed and get this done so we can stop the Press bashing."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 8:30am, I met with "Crowbar's Angels" in my office: Cindy, Teresa, and Tanya.

"Okay, guys." I said. "Did we get anything overnight on the Myers case?"

"A lot, sir." said Teresa. "And by the way, Sonali is working like a dog on this one. Maybe it's the glare of the spotlight on her, but she has come up with a lot of stuff. First, she came up with three good matches for the possible perp:

"David Bacon is a hippie-type that has a record of burglaries where he deactivates alarms. But he mostly steals cars, and last Wednesday he was in California. He played in a chess tournament this past weekend, and was at a chess club that Wednesday night playing blitz chess with about twenty other people.

"The second name to come up was your buddy 'Dirty Lennie'. Probably because he rents and uses trucks to haul contraband, particularly drugs. For example, he rented the trucks that delivered the caches of diamonds we finally caught. It took some digging to get through the layers, but we're starting to put together a string of such rentals. There are two issues, though: first, he's not known to be a cat burglar; and second, he was in the Precinct Two jail Wednesday night after getting into a fight at a bar in the Tenderloin District Tuesday night, and he didn't get out until Saturday, when the County Solicitor ultimately declined to press charges."

"Ah, disappointing that charged were not pressed." I said.

"Solicitor Walters said the complaints about Lennie's hygiene and bad odor was a contributor in getting him out of our clean jails." said Teresa.

I laughed. "Can't argue with that. And third?"

"Much more interesting." Teresa replied. "Howard Spratt, called 'Howie', and known in the criminal world as 'Jack Spratt'. Yes, he's lean, slender build, about 5'8", so not very tall, dark brown hair, very dark brown eyes. Did prison time for a series of burglaries about three years ago, released on parole earlier this year, no problems since his release. But he's reputed to be good at defeating alarm systems."

I reached out my hand and Teresa gave me the file, which included his mugshot. "He's our best shot." I said. "Put out an APB and bring him in, under arrest for suspicion of burglary. If it's not him, he may know something about these crimes at the Cloisters and give us something. At the worst, he goes free in 24 hours, having been gifted three free meals courtesy of the County. And give Sonali my compliments on her good work..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 10:00am, the local equivalent of Airborne School's 'break area procedures' commenced, and it was not pretty.

I was not called onto the carpet individually, as I'd expected to be. No, the Chief decided to make this one a dressing down of all of his top Staff, sharing the humiliation. The meeting was in the Main Conference Room. I was at the far end of the table, Cindy Ross to my left, Teresa Croyle next to her, then Supervisor Myron Milton. On my right was Tanya Perlman, then Lieutenant Wes 'Coldiron' Masters, then 3d Precinct Captain Susan Weston.

Sitting off to my right side, not at the table but in the corner, was Sheriff Daniel Allgood. Sitting to the Chief's left, not at the table, was Deputy Chief Brownlee... who was barely able to hide his glee at the situation.

At the head of the table was Chief Harold Bennett, who said "The Press has ambushed us very well this morning. The Sheriff and I are being beaten up one side and down the other by the Press as well as the Council, not to mention very rich residents of the wealthiest subdivisions in the County who are very angry. Commander Troy, why haven't you solved these cases yet?"

"I take full responsibility for not correlating these cases and prioritizing them as a spree." I said. "We are working on them, and just put out an APB for a person of interest."

The Chief was not mollified. "Okay, everyone, I'll just get this out now: I understand that the Commander has been very busy, and pulled in many directions these past few months. Not to mention him being kidnapped one night. And I can't argue with the results of his work: he solved two murders, took down one of the City Police Department's highest officers for those murders, and was instrumental in bringing the Wargrave case to its conclusion."

"What bothers me," the Chief then said, "is that this Police Force seems to be totally reliant upon Commander Troy to get anything solved. I need to know that when he is not here, crimes will continue to be solved. Everyone in this room, except the Sheriff and Deputy Chief Brownlee, is at least partially responsible for this failure to quickly solve these burglaries, and that includes me at the top. I need for some of you here, especially those of you in leadership positions, to step up and bring your 'A' games, especially when Commander Troy is not here."

He was not looking at Cindy as he said it, but did furtively glance in her direction several times. I felt relief that Cindy's face remained passive, not letting Bennett get to her. 

Meanwhile, the Chief looked at some notes, then said "There's still a problem, here. I understand that of these nine cases, only this last one was given directly to MCD. Of the other eight, six calls went to Precinct Three. What happened there, Captain Weston? Why didn't you call in Detectives from MCD or Vice?"

"We did, sir, on four of the six." said PCpt. Weston. "On the other two, the homeowners told the responding officers that they were calling the police only because their insurance companies demanded it. My officers took their statements and canvassed the neighborhood to see if anything unusual was seen, but the homeowners didn't even want the Crime Lab people there. And on the other four, we notified Headquarters but never heard back."

"So, Captain Ross," said Chief Bennett acidly, "what happened?"

Cindy replied, "Sir, Detectives responded to those calls. Only one case was as big as the Myers case, though, where a considerable amount of considerable value was taken. The rest were smaller, with only one or a few items taken, but we did look into them. Nash responded to one, Washington to one, Parker to two of them. Their investigations are ongoing."

"But not very well, it looks like." said Deputy Chief Brownlee, taking a cheap shot.

"And how would you have any idea of that?" retorted Captain Ross, not taking any shit from Brownlee.

"You forget yourself, Captain." Chief Bennett quickly interjected. "That's a Commander you're talking to, and--"

"Then consider that to have come from me, Chief." I said, interrupting and near anger, my voice carrying strongly through the room. "Captain Ross is correct: it's not Paper Pusher's job to overwatch the Detectives. And if he does know all that much about it, then I'm going to wonder why he's sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, and particularly onto my turf. And I tend to punch noses that wrongly stick themselves onto my turf, literally if not figuratively."

Brownlee glaring at me did not bother me. It was Chief Bennett who was also glaring at me, and I was staring right back at him.

"Okay, guys," said Sheriff Allgood. "Let's get back to business. Captain Ross, you were saying something about the ongoing investigation?"

"Yes, Sheriff." Cindy said. "My Detectives have done everything correctly to this point. We haven't had any leads, but it's not from their lack of effort. We're correlating everything now to see if there is any commonality in the crimes, but for the most part there are enough differences to suggest that they've been done by different perps. It may not be a spree."

"That's interesting." I said, thinking out loud and near a reverie.

"Chief," said Precinct Captain Weston, "I would like to suggest at this time that it might be much better if I had Detectives dedicated to my Precinct. I could assign them cases immediately without going through the red tape of calling Headquarters, only to be ignored by Lieutenant Perlman, and none of these problems might have happened."

"I totally agree with that, Chief." piped in Brownlee. "We should assign Detectives to Precincts."

"That's ridiculous." I said, now seeing fully why Brownlee was even in this meeting. "Spreading the Detectives out only hinders communications, makes things worse than what's happening now. We can learn from our mistakes on this case and take steps to do better communicating and working together to find those correlations between crimes, but assigning Detectives to Precincts is exactly the opposite and wrong way to go."

"But look at the disaster now, Chief." retorted Brownlee. "Troy's way hasn't worked at all; it's time to try something different. The Nazis lost World War II because they were too centralized. We need to give our Precinct Captains the tools they need to do their jobs."

"It's something to consider--" said Bennett, looking not at me, but at Cindy.

"No, it's not." replied Sheriff Allgood, his voice cutting in and making people almost jump... even me. "I agree with Commander Troy completely on this, and I'll just tell you right now that while I try to let you guys run the Police Force, I will step in and kill any attempt to assign the core Detectives to Precincts. And you may be sure that I'll have the Council backing me up on it. Anyone who does not fully agree with that can leave their resignations with me before the exiting the room." Daniel stared directly at Brownlee as he said the last sentence.

Well, that ends that, I thought to myself with great relief in the awkward silence in the room.

Allgood said "Okay, let's wrap this up. We can have recriminations and work on better communications later. What is going on about catching perps and preventing future burglaries?"

Lieutenant Masters said "We have increased patrols in the affluent areas, and I've put out word to all the Precincts to be on the lookout for suspicious delivery trucks and suspicious activities related to them."

"We have an APB out for a possible suspect in the Myers crime." said Lt. Perlman.

"The Data teams have already gathered a lot of information." said Cpt. Ross, "and they're still working it."

"Okay, let's get back to work." said Chief Bennett. "All of you, go. Commander, I need to speak with you privately for a moment."

Daniel came over to me. "Need me to stay?"

"No." I whispered back. "I got it." Daniel left with everyone else.

In the silence of the room, the Chief looked at me across the table, as if marshaling his thoughts and considering what to say. Finally he spoke: "I did mean that when I said your people need to be able to continue in your absence. I really am disappointed in them."

"I'm not sure I understand your expectation of perfection from them." I replied. "As I said, it's my responsibility that these cases weren't handled better."

"I don't agree." said Bennett. "To be honest, your position is one where you should be delegating just about everything. Only your incredible deductive abilities keep you in the field when you really should not be. Meanwhile, Lt. Croyle is doing okay in Vice, but Captain Ross and Lt. Perlman are not running with the ball when you hand it off to them, which is what you're doing when you're not here. I do expect more than I'm seeing right now."

"Sir, may I speak freely?" I asked.

"No." said Bennett. "No, you may not. Anything you want to say, it needs to be within protocols."

"Then I'll speak within protocols." I said, standing up, and to hell with it if this guy wants to fire me to spite his own face. "Chief, I don't know what you have against my people, particularly Captain Ross, but if you have a problem with them, you come to me. My people, and especially Captain Ross, are doing a very good job. No, they're not perfect; neither am I. But they have done and are doing a lot. What you did to us today, Chief... that wasn't right."

"Okay, you want me to come to you?" said Bennett, staring coldly at me. "Then consider this my official complaint: I don't think Captain Ross has what it takes to do the job in your absence. I consider this failure to be her fault and a result of her lack of leadership and attention to detail. And that is for the record, not off the record. I don't give a shit about the nepotism issue, but you better get her to the point she can handle the position you've put her in, or I will be going to the Sheriff and even the Council to do something about it."

After a moment of silence I said "Is that all, sir?"

"Yes. Go." replied the Chief. I left the Conference Room, noticing that Daniel went into the Conference Room and shut the door before the Chief could make it out of there. I went to my office, where my 'Angels' were gathered. I made another observation as I went around to my chair behind my desk.

"My office furniture appreciates you confiscating the blue crowbar, Lt. Croyle." I said, seeing the object in Teresa's hands.

"That was to keep me from using it on you." replied Cindy, who was anything but happy at the moment. "You, sir, could have and should have been the Chief of Police of this Force, but you didn't take it. You fucked up." That last line stunned Teresa and Tanya.

I just stayed calm, and then made a point to take my badge off my shirt and place it on the table. "Put 'em on the desk, ladies." I said. They did so, putting their badges next to mine as I opened my bottom right drawer, took out the bottle of peppermint schnapps and four shot glasses, and poured four drinks.




Case of the Parole Officer Ch. 01



"Salud, Angels." I said. We clinked glasses and downed our shots. I put away the bottle, lest we be tempted to drink more.

"Get it out of your systems now." I said, meaning for them to vent their frustrations.

Cindy said "I feel like the whole purpose of that meeting was to split us up and assign us to precincts. Am I wrong?"

"Man, did the Sheriff blow that up, or what?" Teresa said, awe in her voice.

"I have to admit I was shocked at that, too." I said. "But no, the meeting was not about that. Observe, if you will, just who was at that meeting that normally is not. Meanwhile, the Chief doesn't fully understand yet how to handle public pressure and Media ambushes. He was rattled by the Media attacks on us, and overreacted."

"By taking it out on us?" Cindy said. "That was wrong. Just wrong."

"Guys," I said, "The new chief has been in office less than two months. His Deputy Chief is an incompetent idiot who thinks he, the Deputy Chief, is God. His Police Commander is an out-of-control, confident-to-the-point-of-arrogance redhead with a red crowbar that goes off working with the FBI and SBI, as well as going after some paranoid pipe dream of a 'Professor Moriarty' lurking behind every shadow..."

By now, Tanya was laughing uncontrollably, but Cindy and Teresa were not. I continued: "And our new Chief has also been promoted quickly, from Lieutenant just months ago to Chief now. He's trying to find his space, his niche, where he fits in... just as all of you had to at times, and I've had to, as well."

"That still was not right." said Cindy. "Especially bringing in that asshole Brownlee. Why did he do that?"

"My first thought was that it was a counterfoil to me, and to irritate me." I said. "But now I think it was to get the reaction out of you that you gave him."

"Thanks for taking up for her. And us." said Teresa. They all nodded.

"Oh, that was absolutely my pleasure." I said. "But leave Brownlee to me. If you think I fucked him up last time, you ain't seen nuthin' yet if he keeps up the shit."

I then picked up my badge and put it on my shirt again. "Anyhoo, I think the Sheriff is now administering to the Chief a proper response, so let's just drive on and get busy. Anything new?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The noon newscasts brought more pain.

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News at Noon!" shouted Bettina from in front of the State Office Building next to and just west of the Federal Building on the north side of Courthouse Square. "The SBI is opening a formal investigation into the death of Henry R. Wargrave! Just moments ago, SBI Director Jack Lewis made the announcement! Roll the tape, Scott..."

The tape began to play, showing SBI Director Lewis saying "As SBI Director, I am opening an investigation into the circumstances surrounding the death of Henry R. Wargrave. The SBI does not accept the findings of suicide. There are too many unanswered questions, too many unexamined clues to simply close this case without a full and proper investigation of every aspect of it. We hope to work with the FBI and the City authorities, but we will press this matter forward with or without them..."

Cindy was watching with me in my office, having calmed down every so slightly from the morning's disastrous meeting. "You were right, they opened the case by Thursday." she said.

"And by Wednesday, and by Tuesday." I replied. "Director Lewis is not letting the grass grow under his feet. I know that Wargrave and Lewis were pretty good friends, and I've heard some scuttlebutt that Lewis really is deeply upset about Wargrave's death. But Lewis is running for Governor next year, and he also sees this as a way to encroach upon the City's so-called 'sovereignty' and really fuck with them. Nice, politically charged situation... calm compared to this place, n'est pas, mon cousin?"

"So, we have our stories straight?" Cindy asked. I nodded, got out my device to check for bugs and for I.A. listening in on us (they weren't), and we quietly went over it one more time...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 2:30pm Cindy knocked on my door and peeked in. "Jack Spratt has been arrested. Rudistan and Morton are bringing him in."

"Good." I said. "Have him put in Interrogation-1, and let me know when he's there. Did he have a cellphone on him when he was arrested?"

"I don't know. I'll find out." Cindy replied.

"If he does, get Myron or Mary to get the signature of it, so we can compare that to the night of the crime."

"Wilco." Cindy said as she left.

About twenty minutes later, I entered I-1, where Purvis and Croyle were already interviewing Spratt. His lawyer was present, an esteemed junior legal beagle from Chase, Lynch & Berry.

"Oh wow, I didn't know I merited the attention of the Iron Crowbar himself!" Spratt said, almost excitedly as I came in. His lawyer was trying hard to get him to stop talking.

"Well, you do." I said. "Lieutenant, has the man been read his considerable rights?"

"Yes sir." Teresa said. "When he was arrested, and again just now when his lawyer came in. On tape."

"Good!" I said jovially. "Okay, Jack Spratt, you were paroled just a few months ago?"

"Yeah, and I've been clean since, Commander. Really." Spratt said. "I've been trying to go straight, do the right thing, ya know?"

"Then you won't be too upset at this hiccup in your direction." I said. "Howie, I'd really like to think you're innocent, but the methods used in the burglary just scream your name like a neon sign, parole notwithstanding. Now where were you on Wednesday evening and night?"

"That's just it, Mr. Crowbar." said Spratt. "I was at home. And parole is everything, because my parole officer was at my house doing a spot check at that same time!"

To be continued.



Case of the Parole Officer 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, The Phyllis Files 1-2, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Phyllis Files 3, 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, The Phyllis Files 4, Pale Morning Light series, Silverfish series, Cold As Ice series, Secrets of Apple Grove series, Sting of the Scorpion series, Reichenbach series.

Case Of The Parole Officer, 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 5 - The Perp 

"So," I said to Spratt, a parolee. "Your parole officer was there right at the time of this crime. Now that's fortuitous, if true."

"I'm telling ya, I was watching TV, just about ready to go to bed, and in he walks. Unannounced visit." said Spratt.

For those who don't know, a parolee has no rights whatsoever. A parole officer can enter the parolee's home without warning, permission or a warrant, and search the parolee's personal effects and papers at will. The parole officer can go into the parolee's home while he's banging his wife or sleeping, and the parolee has no recourse; he or she is a parolee, and worthless in the eyes of Society and the Law. Jim Brown, the legendary Cleveland Browns running back, took a prison sentence and refused a lighter sentence that included parole, saying (in so many words) that parole makes a man a slave of the State, but he served his time and was then free.

"Okay." I said. "What is your parole officer's name?"

"Ryan Frost." said Spratt. "I've made every one of my appointments, too. You can ask him."

"Oh, we will, no doubt about that." I said. "In the meantime, you can help yourself considerably for the future if you can give me any idea who might know your methods enough to copy them and make a burglary look like you did it."

"I got no idea on that." said Spratt. "I didn't tell anyone while I was in prison. Nobody asked, either. And if I'm going to teach someone how to defeat alarm systems, I'd want to get paid for it. Wouldn't you?"

"An intriguing thought." I said, knowing Spratt wouldn't understand that. "Okay, if your alibi checks out, we'll outprocess you immediately. Any questions from you guys?" I asked.

"Yes sir." Teresa said. "Howie, what do you do now to make money?"

"I drive trucks, make deliveries. Legally, and all legal cargo, too." said Spratt. "And I do odd jobs, transient stuff."

"So you have a CDL?" asked Teresa.

"No, but I don't need it for the trucks I drive." replied Spratt. "I don't drive the big semis, just the smaller delivery trucks."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After the interview, I called Myron Milton. "Did Spratt have a cell phone?"

"Not on him when he was arrested." said Milton. "But since he's a parolee, you can go into his home and search without a warrant. You might can't take the phone, but we can get a signature."

"By all means, get with Captain Ross and organize that yourself." I said. "It'll be some good field training for you... Supervisor."

"Yes sir." said Milton. "I'll call Sergeant Rudistan now."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday June 30th, 3:30pm. Cindy Ross, Christopher Purvis, and I were headed to the County Building on the east side of Courthouse Square. Teresa had said she'd have someone interview Parole Officer Ryan Frost, but I said I would take this one myself, and take Purvis with me.

Cindy then asked to come along. "I have to get out of here for a while." she said. I understood. She still was upset about the morning meeting disaster with Chief Bennett.

We walked instead of driving, and it was a hot but nice summer day. The parole officers were housed in an annex building behind the County Building and Courthouse. As we walked, I notice Cindy positioning herself strangely. Glancing over her (it's nice to be a tall Iron Crowbar), I noticed two old ladies on a bench along the sidewalk that led towards the First Baptist Church to the east, and the Catholic Church across the street from First Baptist. I was sure one of the women was old Mrs. Boddiker, but didn't know who the other woman was, and her face was half-hidden by a shawl.

"Nice day to feed the pigeons, isn't it, Captain Ross?" I said.

"Uh, sure, I guess so." Cindy replied, looking at me strangely as we arrived and entered the building.

The offices of Parole officers were in the basement. They barely had cubicles to do their work. The place was crowded, and many parolees had their monthly meetings on the last day of the month. If the air conditioner was working, it was not working well. The air was dank and smelly. If I didn't know better, I'd say 'Dirty Lennie' lived here.

We came to Ryan Frost's cubicle, and he was sitting at his desk. He had brown hair that was thinning badly on top, a pear shaped body, a reddish/florid face, and black-rimmed glasses that looked bad and made him look even more nerdy.

"Mr. Frost?" I said at the entrance to the cubicle.

"Yeah, what is it?" he snarled, then looked up. "Oh, sorry, I thought it was one of these parolees. What can I do for you, Officers?"

"Is there some place we can talk more privately?" I asked.

"Not really." he said. "Just come on in here."

It was crowded, and I let Cindy and Purvis sit down in the chairs next to the desk, their backs to the cubicle wall. "Mr. Frost," I said as quietly as I could, "I need to confirm that you were making an inspection of one Howard Spratt last week. Last Wednesday, about 9:00pm?"

"Yeah, let me check." he said. He brought up a log on his computer, which was an old model that ran Windows XP. The Office of Paroles was not getting money nor the best equipment from the Council, I noted.

"Yeah." Frost said. "It's right here. Last Wednesday, about 9:15 to 9:45. I've been watching Howie Spratt, but he was at his home, everything was fine, no contraband, no drugs, no guns."

"Does he make all of his meetings? Any problems?"

"He makes every appointment, no problems at all." said Frost. "And that in itself is what makes me wonder about him. Almost no one is perfect, they miss a meeting here and there, get caught with alcohol every once in a while."

"Maybe Spratt wants to clean up, get out of the system." Cindy said.

"Maybe." said Frost apathetically. "But anyway, he was at home that Wednesday night."

"Can I get a copy of that?" I asked. "Or an email confirming it?"

"Sure." said Frost. "But if I may ask: did Spratt do something I need to know about?"

"No." I said. "In fact, your timing was lucky for him. It exonerates him from a crime we're investigating." Frost said no more, but handed me a printed-off sheet of the log. "I've sent the email to the Police Department and A.D.A. as well."

"Thank you." I said. Cindy was about to ask something, but I silently cautioned her not to. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Frost, and we'll get out of your way."

Once outside, Cindy said "How did he know where to send the emails? And especially to which ADA?"

"It's not his first rodeo doing that." I replied. "So Purvis, what did you think of that?"

"Seemed routine." said Purvis. "Guy is overworked, as are all of them, is poorly equipped, and has to work in a basement cubicle with the mold smell all day. Makes me appreciate what we have at Headquarters."

"Yes, me too." I said.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Not much at all." Julie Newton said in Classroom 'C' at 4:30pm. "Mr. Myers had routine bills that were automatically paid. He was a member of the South Florida Yacht Club, the U.S. Golf Association, and the Sterling Society, which is a currency-trading group something like the Hot Wives Investment Club. No debts, no large financial transactions in the last several years."

"And his wife?" I asked. Also in the room were Lt. Croyle, Detective Purvis, and Master Technician Mary Mahoney, who had been brought in by me to listen in.

"You think he's boring?" Julie said. "She is the quintessential trophy wife. The Wednesday bridge parties are just about the only thing she really does, at least around here. She puts in an appearance at University functions now and again, seems to know most of the important University people, but not much else there."

"Spending habits?"

"None." Julie said. "Apparently she pays cash for everything, her husband insists upon it. She buys fashionable clothes, expensive but not flashy cars, such as Mercedes sedans and Lexus SUVs, trades them in every two years. Mr. Myers toodles along in old roadsters and Excaliburs, but he does not trade them very often at all, especially if he likes the car and enjoys driving it."

"Any travels?" I asked.

"Only to Florida." said Julie. With that, she handed me the file she'd compiled and I perused it. For such wealthy people, they sure didn't use credit much, nor have many activities.

"No travels to art exhibits, or purchases of any art?" I asked, handing the file to Mary, who perused it as I talked.

"Not since Mr. Myers's retirement." Julie said. "I also called Mrs. Wellman and asked if the Myers were art connoisseurs or if she'd heard them talking of attending any art exhibits. Mrs. Wellman said neither had mentioned art at all."

"Okay then." I said, handing Julie back the file after Mary returned it to me. "Any word from any art brokers or pawn shops? Croyle, anything from C.I.s?"

"No sir." said Teresa. "I checked with the FBI while you were out interviewing the parole officer. The underground rumor mill is very aware of the thefts at all the houses in the past few months, but so far nothing has turned up to be fenced. The FBI isn't seeing any activity, financial or otherwise, by people who like to buy art on the black market, either."

"What about the other crimes?" I asked. "Fill me in on them while we're here."

Teresa started her report: "Nine robberies, six at the Cloisters. On two of them, including the latest one, the alarm system was shut down by a shunt. You were in Apple Grove in April when the first one occurred. It is also the only other job where any art was stolen, but the worst of that crime was that over five million dollars in negotiable securities with coupons attached were taken."

"In most of the other crimes," Teresa said, handing me a sheet listing the inventories of stolen objects, "it was mostly silverware, firearms, cash, computers and related, television sets, gold coins, golf clubs, some rare old books about the Trojan War in one home, stuff like that."

"Which home had the Trojan War stuff stolen?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Professor Donohue's home." said Teresa. "He occupies the Herodotus Chair of Ancient History at the University. He's visited Turkey and Greece several times, especially the archeological areas believed to be where ancient Troy was. He's also written several articles on the founding of Rome and Carthage in those ancient times."

"Interesting." I said. "I have a painting and a matchstick horse that might be of interest to him. So, what were the various modus operandi of these crimes?"

"All were done while the homes were empty, usually over the weekend when the owners were away, but sometimes while there was a function going on at the Clubhouse. Very often keys were used to lock and unlock the house doors. On some, the alarms were disabled by key fobs, like those on car key rings."

"Wow, a lot of inside jobs, wouldn't you say, Detective Purvis?" I said.

"Yes sir." said Purvis. "And someone aware of the owners' various schedules. I checked to see which companies supplied their house staffs, hoping for a connection there, but six different companies were used. Maybe one could be penetrated or bribed, but all six?"

"Yes, that's a thought." I said. "Okay guys, good work. Y'all can go home for the day, and we'll pick up the trail tomorrow. Mary, you're with me."

"I'll come with you for just a second." said Teresa, obviously wanting to tell me something. I sent Mary to my office, then went into Teresa's with her.

"Speaking of schedules," Teresa said, "I told Purvis not to tell anyone else this, but he found out that every single one of those robberies was on a Wednesday, sometimes two on the same day... and on every occasion, Hendricks was the gatehouse guard."

"Consider me not surprised." I said. "Thanks for keeping this quiet. We'll work on that angle of it later. In the meantime, go home and we'll pick it up tomorrow."

I went into my office with Mary, who'd waited in the anteroom. She asked to plug into one of my internet connections. As her fingers flew over the keyboard faster than I could see, she said "There was something not in Newton's report that I want to check... ah yes, here it is."

She showed me her computer screen, filled with items from a credit card. "This is Mr. Myers's S.A.S.S. Mastercard. He used it for hotels, meals, and travel when he went to various S.A.S.S. shooting tournaments."

"Judging by the prices of the meals, and the single seat airline tickets bought, he went alone to these events. His wife did not go with him." I said.

"It's as you were thinking, sir." Mary said. "Julie's report didn't have those items. I don't understand why she could not have found them; it's pretty easy stuff to get."

"Interesting." I said. "Yes, why leave off the gun stuff? Oh well... good work, Mary. For your next assignment, I want you to exercise this warrant that is under seal. It authorizes you to get into the files of the County's various parole officers. Their equipment is old; you may have to hack into each of them, so ask Myron to help if you need it. I especially need Ryan Frost's files and information, but the information of the others would be helpful, as well."

"Yes sir." Mary said, taking the warrant with her as she left the office.

Part 6 - Case Review 

"Daddy!" called out my daughter Carole, uttering that wonderful word as I got home around 7:30pm. My mother was keeping Carole while Laura was in her Washington meetings.

"Hi Carole!" I said, taking her from my mom and giving her a big hug, then sitting down in the den with her. "How's my big girl today?"

"Daddy, Bowser go out." Carole said. I looked down. Sure enough, a fine looking blonde-coated dog was sitting there, looking up at me.

"Hi Bowser!" I said. "Do you need to go out?" Bowser wagged his tail as he got up and walked towards the back door.

"Carole, want to go out with me and Bowser?" I asked.

"Yeah." she said. We all went out onto the patio while my mother took care of little Jim inside. I sat down on the metal mesh seat on the patio, looking over the Town as Bowser went to do his business, with Carole paying attention to my badge on my shirt. Then I noticed her look up over my shoulder and smile.

"Cin-dee." Carole said. Looking back, I saw that it was indeed my Police Force partner.

"Hi Carole!" Cindy said happily. "How are you?"

"Good!" Carole said, surprising me. "Daddy and Bowser go out." she said, explaining our outdoor mission. That surprised Cindy, too.

"She's been able to talk but hasn't said much until recently." I said. "Now we can't get her to stop. Not that that's a bad thing."

"It sure is a good thing." Cindy said, taking Carole and sitting down with her in the chair next to my seat. Bowser bounded up and came up to sit beside me, watching Carole and Cindy.

"So, Partner," I said as I 'skritched' Bowser, "what brought you up here?"

"I just need to talk to someone." Cindy said. "And I figured either you or your mother would do."

"About the case?"

"That's part of it."

"Okay, shoot." Just then my mother Phyllis came up, holding little Jim. She sat down on the other side of me, ready to listen.

Cindy started. "I finally figured out what's been bugging the sh--, er, the stuffing out of me about this case. I think Mr. Myers is not one hundred percent there, if you know what I mean. And Mrs. Myers has the arts degree, but seemed to have little idea about the value of the art in her husband's collection."

I smiled. Cindy was on it. "Yes." I said. "I'm waiting for Carole's mommy to get back home--"

"Mommy go to meetings." explained Carole, having heard that phrase too many times for our liking. Phyllis was beaming at Carole.

"And when she gets back, I'm going to ask about Mr. Myers." I said. "Look at it this way: Mr. Myers was smart enough to take two hundred million dollars out of the bond markets. Now I'm fairly intelligent, but you don't see me taking two hundred million dollars out of the markets. And then this guy makes what really were smart investments in paintings, especially that Greuze and some of the antique firearms... but he then has no emotion about the thefts. That's something for my favorite psychiatrist to ponder, eh Mom?"

"I could not agree more, son." Phyllis said.

"And you're right, Cindy..." I said, "his wife is outwardly intelligent, but I'm not sure she realized how much that Greuze is worth. It's a strangeness, for sure."

"Well," said Cindy, "her husband did tell her it was a replica, and she might not have looked very hard at it... oh, wait..." And I had the pleasure of watching Cindy's first reverie about a case. My mother and I both watched in fascinated silence.

A moment later, Cindy came out of it. "Man, I don't know how you do it."

"Sure you do." I said. "And you're getting good practice now."

"At any rate, I'm sure you'll have the case solved by this time tomorrow." Cindy said. "What do you think, Carole?"

"Daddy smart." Carole said. "Cin-dy smart too."

And so are you, Carole, I thought proudly. So are you...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Come on in, Sonali." Teresa said. Sonali came into Teresa's office and sat down in the chair in front of the desk, opening her laptop computer. The window behind Teresa was going dark as the sun was setting. There was not a lot of room, but it was better than the days the Commander had occupied the office while a Lieutenant, Teresa thought. "What do you have?"

"Two things, ma'am." said Sonali. "First is a list of eight possible suspects in the seven other burglaries in the 3d Precinct. And second, there was another attempted burglary in the Heritage Cloisters, but it did not show up because it is not listed as a burglary. The homeowner was at home, and he shot the intruder dead. The intruder's name was Jonas Grumby, and he was known on the Streets as 'Solomon Grundy'."

"Email me that." said Teresa. "I'll forward it to the Captain."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cindy's phone rang as we were talking in the den. Carole began crying and hugging me tightly. I understood why.

"Don't worry, baby." I said. "Daddy is not going anywhere. I'm staying right here with you. Now pet Bowser and make him feel better." Carole stopped crying as she was distracted, and she reached down and petted Bowser's head as he sat next to us. Bowser looked up at Carole with pure love in his eyes.




Case of the Parole Officer Ch. 02



Hanging up, Cindy said "Teresa is sending me some emails of data Sonali found. She cc'd them to you, too." I got my laptop off the den table in front of the sofa, and opened it to the emails as Cindy read the emails on her police cellphone. Then Cindy made a call back to Teresa.

"APBs for all of them." Cindy said. "Take them to County Lockup."

Meanwhile, I was calling Mary Mahoney Milton. "Hi Mary," I said. "Sorry to call you at night on your off-time, but I'm going to send you some data, and I need for you to correlate something... oh, Myron got phone signatures? Great..."

Part 7 - Alibis and Alibis 

At 4:00am, Wednesday July 1st, I entered the County Jail and Precinct 3 Headquarters. All my 'Angels' were there, and Teresa was making coffee. Detective Purvis, Detective Nash, and Myron Milton were also there.

"Mary was up half the night running this, so I told her to sleep in." Myron said, to my hearty approval. He gave me the data she'd compiled.

"Very good stuff." I said, perusing it. "Okay, let's get it out of the horses' mouths--"

"What is going on here?" The voice was Precinct Captain Susan Weston's. She had just arrived, was wearing plainclothes, and looked as if she'd rushed out of bed to get here. Apparently someone had called her to come in, since her direct boss (me) was here.

"Ah, good morning, Captain Weston." I said. "We are about to interrogate some potential perps in the Cloisters burglaries. Feel free to watch."

"I understand, sir." said Weston. "But I understand these cases were assigned to Vice. Do we really need Lieutenant Perlman here?" That was a direct shot, as Perlman and Weston had no liking for each other.

"As you were, Precinct Captain Weston!" The voice was (full) Captain Cindy Ross's, and she had squared up to Susan Weston. "Lieutenant Perlman is here because I want her here. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes ma'am, I do." replied Weston, not backing down. "She has no place here." I actually was happy to see that, but I had to prevent a blue crowbar beatdown about to commence. 

"Your complaint is noted, Ms. Weston," I said, "but Perlman's place is where her boss says it is, and that's right here right now. Okay, Ross, let's get these interviews going." Weston left us for her office, to everyone's relief.

"I wish Sergeant Rudistan had been here to see that." said Martin Nash. "I'd love to hear what he'd say about it."

"Remind me to steel myself against your 'pawky' sense of humor, Mr. Nash." I said, trying hard not to laugh and pretend to be serious. But the thoughts of what the mischievous Rudistan might say did lighten the mood for all of us.

One by one, Purvis and I interviewed the suspects. And one by one, a continuing pattern emerged.

"I was at a meeting with my parole officer." one perp said.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Ryan Frost."

The next perp said he was being surprise inspected in his apartment. The parole officer making the search? "Ryan Frost."

Two perps did not say 'Ryan Frost', but 'Sarah Carter' as the parole officer they were assigned to. Sarah Carter mostly had female parolees assigned to her, as the County was wise enough to disallow male parole officers to invade female parolee's homes without a female parole officer present.

Once done, I went into the anteroom. "Say no more here." I said. "Main conference room at Headquarters. Let's go there now."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fortified with mugs of coffee and two pots on the hot plates, we met in the Main Conference room.

"Myron," I said quietly to him as everyone was getting their coffee and settling in. "What did you get on the cellphone signatures at our boy Spratt's home?"

"He had two phones there, both powered off." said Myron. "One was a personal cell phone registered to his name. The other was a burner, and had the name of a trucking company in the saved list, so I think he uses it while on the road. That phone did ping off the nearest tower to the Heritage Cloisters at the time of the crime. More interestingly, there was a phone call on it at that time... want to guess where to?"

"West Palm Beach, Florida?" I said. Myron shook his head in amazement.

"Damn, nothing gets by you." he said. "It was near there: Boynton Beach, which I think is just south of West Palm Beach."

"It is." I said. "Great work." We sat down with the rest of the group.

"Well, folks," I said to start the meeting, "what were your impressions of those interviews?"

"All of them had alibis with the same parole officer for the times in question?" asked Martin Nash. There was a murmur of agreement.

"Exactly." I said. "As Dame Agatha Christie pointed out: 'You can always have once coincidence. You can never have two.' And we now have what, eight or nine such coincidences; therefore, we have none. And the two that had Sarah Carter, that's not a coincidence, either."

"So I need to go talk to Mr. Frost and Ms. Carter about this?" asked Detective (J.G.) Purvis.

"No no no no." said Tanya Perlman. "You'll tip them off. If they're covering for these perps doing the crimes, we need to get some proof of that and then bust them."

"Exactly." I said. "And right now we don't have a thing on Frost or Carter. And at the risk of offending my Lieutenants, I'm going to give some direct instructions: Purvis, I want you to start digging into Frost's background. Don't ask the data miners nor the Abacus for help, nor tell them what you are doing; do it yourself and give Lt. Croyle any information you find. Look into his personal life, finances, all that stuff. Nash, do the same for Carter. Melt the wires."

"Tanya, Teresa, get all the existing information and put it together. Myron also has some phone data for you. Just you two on it, I don't want half the Force knowing what's going on. Obviously, I'm trying to mitigate leaks. Last but not least, Captain Ross, you'll be working with me to set up a sting. We're doing this ourselves so that if it goes wrong, it's my ass hanging in the breeze, and not any of y'all's."

"Sir," said Myron, "there is that one other case Sonali found."

I smiled at Myron... an evil, ugly smile that no perp wants to see on the features of a man that wields a red crowbar. "You anticipate me, Mr. Milton." I said, my voice dripping with sinister intent. "You anticipate me."

Part 8 - Pain and Suffering 

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" blared the lovely redheaded reporterette at 7:00am, still Wednesday, July 1st. "Channel Two News has learned that the Town & County Police Department has made several arrests connected with the spate of burglaries at the Heritage Cloisters subdivision. Third Precinct Captain Susan Wexler, in an exclusive statement to Channel Two News, said that her precinct's officers made the arrests overnight, and that the suspects are being interviewed for information. Captain Wexler also said that they may not be the actual perpetrators of the various crimes, but are simply persons of interest that may have information that will help Third Precinct Police solve these cases."

"My God, the effrontery of that." said Cindy Ross. Lt. Perlman was scowling, also, as we watched.

Bettina then said "Channel Two News is very happy to announce our new addition to the Sports Coverage Team. Nick Eastwood will be bringing you news and inside coverage of the University football team that he was a part of the last four years, as well as all the other Sports news for the County. Welcome, Nick!"

Nick Eastwood appeared on the screen, smiling just a bit too brightly, and all of the women in the room were paying rapt attention... except Cindy Ross. "Thank you, Bettina, and it's great to be working with the best news team in the State! We're going to be fully covering the County Triathlon this weekend. With Police Captain Cindy Ross and her partner Lieutenant Teresa Croyle not defending their titles from last year due to injury, the field will be wide open for anyone willing to endure the grueling race for the championship..."

"Hell," said Cindy, "I'm ready to enter and whip all their asses right now. Whaddya say, Teresa?" That got a very determined look in her direction from Your Iron Crowbar.

Jabbing my finger at her with each word, I said "Don't. You. Even. Think. A-bout. It." Cindy grinned and everyone else laughed.

"I think she's pulling your leg, sir." said Detective Joanne Cummings. 

"She damn well better be." I said acerbically. Everyone knew that I wasn't really angry, but was speaking out of concern and love for my partner.

"Seriously," Martin Nash said, "who is going to be the Police team?"

Cindy said "Claire Michaels and Hugh Hewitt. I've been training them. They've got an outside chance to win if they have the intestinal fortitude."

Teresa Croyle replied "My money is on Todd Burke and Teddy Franklin, the BOW Enterprises team. So who are you rooting for, Commander?"

"Ah, the devil or the deep blue sea." I said, deftly avoiding Teresa's trap. "I'm rooting for all to do well and no one to get hurt."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 8:00am I was called into the Chief's office. He did not invite me to sit down, having me stand in front of his desk as he spoke.

"Commander, I received a call from Precinct Captain Wexler." he said. "She is very upset that Captain Ross berated her in her own headquarters this morning, and believe that Captain Ross was out of place to do so. She is threatening to file a Union grievance against Captain Ross for that."

"And she went over my head to you." I said.

"Can you blame her?" the Chief said. "You'll just take up for your partner... and family member... without giving any thought to the facts."

I struggled to keep command of my temper. "The facts, sir, are that Weston harassed Lt. Perlman first. Captain Ross took up for her officer in an excellent example of leadership. Ross was right; Weston was dead wrong. I was there and witnessed the whole thing, so I know the facts. And I may just mention to the Sheriff, going over your head, that Precinct Captain Weston is showing herself to be unfit for the position she is in."

Before Bennett could continue, I leaned over the desk and said "I'm too busy trying to wrap up these burglaries and what I see as some other crimes, to deal with this shit, Chief. I'm not going to play any more games. I'll just tell you this: if Ross leaves, I leave. You may think that's a good thing, Chief, but it won't be. And I won't go quietly, it'll get ugly. Now make your choice, Chief. Keep it up, or leave me and Ross the hell alone." I turned to go.

"There's one more thing before you go." said the Chief. "The SBI has opened an investigation into Henry Wargrave's death, and they want to interview you and Captain Ross. I have told them that we will cooperate fully in every way, and I expect you to make yourself and Captain Ross available to be interviewed."

"Yes sir." I said.

"Get out of here." the Chief said. I executed that instruction as quickly as I could.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I appeared at Ryan Frost's desk, with Detective Purvis in tow.

"Guys, it's a busy morning." said Frost.

"I understand, and I'm in a hurry myself." I said. "I just want to confirm three parolees had meetings with you at certain times." I named the first one. Ryan got onto his computer calendar, then said "Yeah, Tom Jones, he was meeting with me that evening."

"What about Dick Harris?" I asked, naming a date and time. Ryan confirmed it.

"And Jonas Grumby?" I asked, again supplying the date and time.

"Uh yeah, there he is right there. Home inspection at that hour." said Frost.

"Can I get a copy of these three items in your log?" I asked. Ryan provided a hard copy.

"Thank you, Mr. Frost." I said, smiling. "See you later."

"Don't take offense, but I hope not." said Frost sourly as he returned to his work.

As we walked outside, I asked Purvis "Did you witness that?"

"Yes sir, I did." replied 'Chris Pervert'. This case was getting better by the minute.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

SBI Agents Greenwalt and Carter Fischer appeared at Headquarters about an hour later, to interview Captain Cindy Ross and me, Your Iron Crowbar. Cindy and I long since had gotten our stories straight on this, so it was a matter of recitation as I spoke with them in the Main Conference Room of Police Headquarters.

"The cameras at the front of the Cannon Building show you and Captain Ross walking up to the crime scene not long after Mr. Wargrave fell from thirty floors up." said Agent Fischer. I remembered him from the Murdered Football Player case; at the time he'd seemed okay, but now I could see he was hostile to me. I need not say that Greenwalt was still immature as well as hostile.

Fischer continued: "We also have reports of helicopters landing on the roof just before Mr. Wargrave's death, possibly shots being fired, and we have other reports of you and Captain Ross taking a helicopter from University Hospital to the City, and that helicopter matched the one seen coming to land at the Cannon Building."

He paused, as if expecting me to say something. I sat and waited, making him look and feel foolish in the long silence that followed.

"So, Commander Troy, is that all true?" Fischer finally asked.

"Finally, a question." I said acidly. "And my answer is: I don't know. I can't speak to any shots being fired, but Captain Ross and I did arrive by helicopter to the Cannon Building, as we were attempting to assist the FBI in arresting Wargrave. However, by the time we arrived, he had jumped out his window to his death. We went downstairs to the scene, finding the City Police already having taken charge of it. So we left and came home."

"You did not see Mr. Wargrave in his office?"

"We arrived too late." I replied.

"Who else was in the helicopter?" asked Fischer.

"It was me, Ross, and the pilot." I said. An omission is not a lie. So said Commander. Spock, so says Commander Troy, I thought to myself.

"What was the pilot's name?"

"I didn't ask." I said. Well, it wasn't a lie, I really didn't ask since I already knew who he was.

Fischer looked at me suspiciously. Greenwalt looked like he had his thumb up his ass. Fischer tried his gambit: "Commander... we talked to Captain Ross before talking to you. Her story differs from yours."

"Oh really?" I said. I wonder if they were seeing the gleam in my eye, I thought to myself.

"Yes." Fischer said. "So why don't you come correct with the real story?"

"Well, guys," I said, "I know that what I told you is not different than what Captain Ross told you. But since you've just accused me of committing a crime, at this point I'm not going to answer any more of your questions about this case without a lawyer present." I got up. "You guys have a nice day, and tell Director Lewis I said hello."

My words were not idle nor polite; they were an insinuation, one I was sure Director Lewis would not fail to understand if and when his agents conveyed the message. I left the room and went back to the sanctuary of my office.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"You've come a long way." I said to Cindy as we talked later in my office. I need not say the anti-bugging device was on full power. "You were the squeamish one over Nathan Allen. But with Wargrave, you had no problem helping me conclude that investigation with extreme prejudice. Welcome to the Dark Side."

Cindy smiled. "Well, I'm not sure it was the right thing to do. But as the old saying goes, 'if you hit me first, you better kill me'. He didn't kill me, soooo..." She shrugged her shoulders. I understood, smiling.

"Yep," I replied, "my nephew Ned found out the same thing, the hard way."

Cindy nodded, then said "You were right that those SBI Agents would try a dirty trick. They told me they had video footage of us in Wargrave's office. And I did just as you said, I said they were lying, but since they were making an accusation, I wouldn't talk to them any more without a lawyer present."

"Yeah, Lewis is reaching, clutching at straws." I said. "I think he wants to pin this on us, or on me at least, and it didn't work."

"You think he knows?" Cindy asked, her voice nearly inaudible.

I smiled. "No. Unless he has a... 'Consultant' that told him. But I think he has other reasons for trying to stick this on me, the reasons we talked about before." I noticed Cindy peering at me as I said that last sentence.

"In the meantime," I continued, "I want you to come to The Cabin this Friday. Laura, Melina, my mother, and other ladies are having some sort of 'Girls Night Out'. In the meantime, Molly and Ross are coming up for the July 4th weekend and staying at The Cabin with me, Carole, Jim, and of course Bowser. You'll have a chance to talk to Molly about... everything."

"Oh boy." Cindy said. "I... I don't have any idea what to say about all of that."

"It'll work out." I said. "And probably more easily than you realize. At any rate, it's either The Cabin's deck... or Laura's sofas. You make the call."

"The deck, no doubt." Cindy said. "The view is better." she added, her words fooling no one present.

"A wise decision." I said, then I hit her with the bombshell. "I've invited Jenna to join us for dinner, also."

Cindy's blue eyes widened like saucers. Then she recovered.

"I do need to say one other thing." Cindy said. "I saw how you looked coming out of the Chief's office, and it doesn't take being a Michaux to see what's going on with him regarding me. I've been thinking that I can accept the FBI's offer and join them full time, and work with Jack and his crew. Then you can promote Tanya to the Captain slot, which will make her happy, and then hire Molly into MCD, maybe as its Lieutenant."

"First of all," I said, fingering the anti-bugging device in my hand, "if you think you being my cousin though we didn't know about it for a long time is an issue, how do you think it would go over if I tried to put the mother of one of my children, with another on the way, into a subordinate slot like that?"

"Second," I said, "while Tanya is doing a good job where she is, why do you think I automatically would promote her to your slot, or would be allowed to?"

"Who would they put there?" Cindy asked.

"Weston." I replied. As Cindy absorbed that one, I said "Last, I'll tell you what I told the Chief: if you leave, I leave." After a pause, I said "Look, do you trust me to handle this situation and resolve it to our betterment?"

"I guess so." Cindy said. "But I'm not taking much more shit from that man. Yeah, let's leave here together, if that's what it takes. We'll be fine. He won't."

"We'll talk about it more later." I said. "You and I have some crimes to solve... and if I'm right, some new ones to discover." I got up and Cindy got up and we left the office. She had not noticed that I had turned off the anti-bugging device for the last part of the conversation... and that Internal Affairs was listening in, full force.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I had a mission to do while Cindy met with Tanya and Teresa, planning a mission to bring in some witnesses for our case. I put on plain clothes, put my badge further left on my belt so it wasn't easily seen and was covered by my jacket.

Leaving my crowbar in the SUV, I entered Precinct 3 by the side door. There was activity as Deputy Sheriff's brought criminals out to take them to the Courthouse, and others being brought in. Police were milling about, as well. I walked along the hall and to the Duty Desk counter, then right through behind two uniformed officers. Once inside, I headed down the hall to PCpt. Weston's office, in the back left of the Precinct side of the building.




Case of the Parole Officer Ch. 02



A female patrol officer, Julia Rodriguez, was on duty as Weston's assistant. I simply walked by her to the closed office door and opened it.

"Hey! Stop! You can't go in there!" the patrol officer shouted, rising out of her chair to stop me. Susan Weston was behind her desk, just rising from her chair as I came in. I whirled on the young patrol officer, whose right hand was just about to draw her service weapon from its holster.

"Yes I can." I said, thrusting my badge in my left hand almost into her face. When she read the small print on top that said 'Commander', her eyes widened in shock.

"It's okay, Julia." said Weston. "This is the Police Commander."

"Good thing you didn't draw your weapon, Officer." I said, displaying my backup gun in my right hand, finger not on the trigger. "I'd've had to shoot you if you did." Leaving the Patrol Officer in deep shock, I closed the door and confronted Precinct Captain Weston.

"What is this, Commander?" said Weston. "Rodriguez is new, she doesn't know who you are. And why are you barreling past her like that, even if you are the Police Commander?"

"Just an inspection of Precinct 3, Captain." I said. "I was not stopped at the entrance to the Jail, nor at the Duty Desk. You have some things to work on, here. But that's not why I'm here. I want to know why you went over my head to the Chief and complained about Captain Ross. And worst of all, threatened to file a Union grievance. Do you realize how hard I'm going to snap your head back for that?"

"Uh, sir, I didn't go to the Chief... he called me." said Weston, her face showing pure shock, as well as fear.

"Come on, Captain," I said, "do I really look that stupid to you?"

"No sir!" she practically shouted. "I know full well who you are. I'm serious; the Chief called me this morning about the time you left, and asked what the row with Captain Ross was about. I told him... and I also told him you'd intervened and quelled it. And he asked if I was going to file a grievance with the Union, which was the first thought I'd even had of something like that."

"So who called the Chief?" I asked, my eyes boring into Weston.

"I don't know. Check the phone logs." she replied. "He called me, I swear to God."

I nodded, realizing she likely was telling the truth, though she could've used her personal cellphone to call the Chief first. "Okay, Weston, in any case I've had about enough of your antics. Whatever your beef with Lt. Perlman is, I suggest you drop it, and fast. Remember that I'm on her side at all times in any dispute with you, even if she's the one in the wrong."

I then said "I also suggest you get this Precinct cleaned up, and fast. I am on the verge of demoting and replacing you, so it would be a really, really good idea that I don't have any more problems with you at all. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir." Weston said, practically shaking with fear now. I approached her desk.

Speaking much more quietly, I said "Captain Weston, you have a chance to do a good job in your position and really make a mark for yourself. I actually think you're the right person for this position... if you just stop listening to the shit Brownlee is pouring into your ears and just do your current job in the here and now."

I continued: "I will also tell you that you will never be Captain of the Detectives while I am employed by this Police Force... and you won't want that job if I am not here. And whatever that slug Brownlee promised you ain't worth shit. *I* make things happen in this Police Force, not that paper pushing dirtbag. Think about it, Susan." I turned and left, closing the door and leaving a totally shocked Precinct Captain behind me.

As I'd exited, Officer Rodriguez had stood up. "Carry on, Officer." I said, then stopped and peered at her. "I perceive that you were in the military, Officer Rodriguez?"

"Yes sir." she said, surprised.

"What branch?"

"Army, sir." she replied. "2697th M.A.S.H. I was in the Nursing Corps."

"That's a big hospital unit, 500 beds at least? Not like the small T.V. show unit." I asked.

"Yes sir." she said.

"Why did you become a police officer instead of an EMT?"

"Uh..." she said, then gushed "I was told, sir, that I'd have much better opportunities in the Police Force than the EMS here, sir."

I nodded. "Okay. And thank you for your military service. Carry on." With that, I left Precinct 3. As I got back into my SUV, I got a surprise text...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Thank you for seeing us today, Mr. Burke." said SBI Agent Carter Fischer.

"No problem. What can I do for the State Bureau of Investigation?" asked Todd Burke. He was sitting behind his desk at BOW Enterprises, wearing a very well-tailored suit and silk tie. He looked like a young executive, and radiated both confidence and a sense of power which contrasted sharply with the young Agent Fischer and the inept Agent Greenwalt. And they could feel it.

"Have you heard of the death of Henry R. Wargrave?" asked Fischer.

"Yes, of course." said Todd.

"Have you heard of the details of the circumstances surrounding his death?"

"Only what I saw on television." said Todd. "He committed suicide. The FBI was after him, so it looks to me like he took the easy way out."

"Mr. Burke," said Agent Fischer, "the story is that Mr. Wargrave jumped from the window of his office and fell thirty floors to his death."

Todd did one of his uncle's favorite tricks: he said nothing, waiting for Fischer to finish or ask a question. The silence in the room became awkward.

"Is there a question in there somewhere, Agent Fischer?" Todd finally asked.

"You don't find that unusual?" asked Greenwalt, looking stupid and as if he didn't know why he was asking the question.

"I guess it's not normal for a billionaire to jump out of a tall window to his death." said Todd. "But he did. What am I supposed to find unusual about that?" Fischer was trying to watch Burke's face, but he was seeing nothing but boredom in Todd's features.

"Mr. Burke," said Fischer, "are you aware that Mr. Wargrave had bulletproof windows in his office, windows that were designed to withstand the impact of a small airplane or small missile?"

"No, I wasn't aware of that." said Todd.

"You don't find Mr. Wargrave jumping out that window unusual?"

"Okay, guys, let's stop wasting my time." said Burke. "Get to the point of your questions. What am I supposed to find unusual about this?"

Seeing their game wasn't producing good fruit, Fischer said "Mr. Burke, the windows were sealed shut, they could not be opened from the inside nor the outside. The window Mr. Wargrave jumped through was shattered... but as I just told you, those windows are made to withstand pretty big impacts. Now how did Mr. Wargrave shatter that window?"

"I have no idea." said Todd Burke. "Now gentlemen, if you'll excuse me..."

"We're not finished yet." said Fischer, trying to take control. Todd stood up anyway.

"Yes, you are finished if you're going to continue wasting my time with these useless questions."

"Is your Chief Research Officer, Barry Oliver here?"

"I don't know." replied Burke. "He doesn't have to clock in with me."

"Will you make him available to us for questioning?"

"No, I won't." said Burke. "I don't know what the bullshit point of this is, but you've tired me of it. Now I'm not answering any further questions from you without a lawyer present. You may not speak to any of my employees or partners without a Court-issued warrant and without them also being represented by legal counsel." 

Todd pressed a button and two security men appeared, ready to cause trouble if necessary. "Butch, escort these SBI Agents off the property, and no SBI agents except my uncle and his police partner are to come on to the property again without Court-issued warrants. Shoot to kill if necessary."

"Mr. Burke," said Fischer. "What are you trying to hide?"

"What are you trying to hide?" retorted Todd. "Butch, get 'em out of here." 

They didn't even make it off the property before Todd was texting his uncle...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My lovely and very competent assistant Helena French spoke on the intercom at 4:15pm. "Commander, an Officer Julia Rodriguez is here to see you, without appointment."

"That's fine." I said. "Send her in." Officer Rodriguez came inside. Cindy was sitting on the sofa.

"Sir, I came by to apologize." Julia said. "I did not realize who you were, and I was overly aggressive."

"No need to apologize, Officer Rodriguez." I said. "Please, sit down." Julia sat down, nervously looking at me.

"Officer, what is said in here will stay in here, so please speak freely and frankly to me." I said. "What's going on in Precinct 3?"

"There's no security there, sir." she said. "The Duty Desk doesn't even watch who's coming through, they don't keep good logs and don't notify Headquarters when cases need to be sent along. I've done half of that myself."

"So that's why you're gun-happy?" I asked.

"Sir, I really am the last and only line of defense to Captain Weston." Julia said. "If someone was seriously trying to come in and kill her, they would get as far as you did today."

"Thank you for telling us that." I said. "Just one more thing: can you be more specific about the EMS problems that caused you to choose the Police Force over them? Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"I just know that my friend Maria, who was in my M.A.S.H. unit and came here a month before me, told me that I should apply for the Police Force, because the EMS people got treated like shit, excuse my language, and if I got fired from there, I couldn't apply for the Police later and work for them. So I applied for the Police, and Maria is working for the Public Health Department."

I pressed a buzzer, and Helena appeared at the door. "Helena, I need to write a commendation for Officer Rodriguez. During an inspection of 3d Precinct, I found her to be efficient and on guard, surpassing her normal duties. Send me a template for that, please, and I'll fill in the details."

"Yes sir." said Helena, smiling. Everyone was aware I'd done that to praise Rodriguez publicly.

"As Captain Ross will tell you, Ms. Rodriguez," I said, "I'll put you in for a Commendation Medal, the Council will reduce it to an Achievement Medal, but expect to be present on the August 1st Ceremonies Day. And by the way, I wasn't going to shoot you."

"What if I had tried to shoot you, sir?" asked Julia.

Cindy piped in: "Crowbars hurt, Officer Rodriguez. Nuff said."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"That's it!" Cindy said as we sat in the office just minutes after Julia had left. "I just realized what is wrong about the Myers burglary!"

"And that is?" I asked.

"The garage door, for one thing." Cindy said.

"Yes." I said. "And?" I looked at her encouragingly as she thought about it. The light was coming on behind her ice blue eyes.

"Yesssss..." she said, more to herself than me. "The safe. The safe." I just smiled. My cousin was on point. Learning that she was a Michaux had her confidence as well as her mental acuity blooming.

"Anything else?" I asked.

Cindy thought again, then said "Ohhh... the items that were stolen."

Oh yeah, she was all over it like white on rice. "Just one more thing, and you're there." I said.

"Three out of four is good in baseball." said Cindy. "Give me a hint?"

"Sure." I said. "Why was the alarm manually defeated, and then reset?" Cindy gaped at me, then began thinking about it...

Part 9 - Allegations 

"Sarah Carter was promoted in May." said Cindy in the late afternoon. "She's now more of an overseer of other parole officers, including Ryan Frost. Here's her photograph." Sarah was a black woman in her thirties, not bad looking, her body a bit voluptuous. Her ass was nice and big and round, and I was thinking I'd love to massage and squeeze those asscheeks while fucking her brains out.

Cindy brought me back to the present, saying "Frost also had two allegations of trying to force female parolees into performing oral sex upon him. One complaint was withdrawn, but the girl was found to have violated parole and sent back to State Women's Prison, where she remains now. The other complaint was allowed to languish when the girl making the claim was found dead in the Tenderloin District of a drug overdose, which was ruled 'accidental' by the Coroner at the time."

"And understandably so. Only the current knowledge of the accusation makes it suspicious now." I said. "What about other female parolees under Frost?"

"Myron says they're not keeping particularly good records down there." Cindy replied. "Closed case files get archived, and that's as paper files. Not too many computer records, and the ones that aredigital are recent."

"And we're not exactly as small as Apple Grove's paper files collection in their Courthouse basement." I said.

"All is not lost, however." said Cindy. "There's one woman, a Diane Butterhof, a.k.a. 'Diane Buttercup'. She was a prostitute and was arrested for being a courier of drugs. She got off parole three weeks ago, but only after her parole was extended due to bad reports ...from..." She paused to let me fill in the blank.

"Ryan Frost." I said, playing the game.

"Give the man a crowbar." Cindy replied. "She also had been under Carter before Carter was promoted. We have an address on her, and perhaps you should be along for the interview."

"No doubt." I said.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The apartment was on the lower west side, south of Downtown but not quite in the bad areas of Town. Cindy and I went in a big Police "black" SUV, an unmarked vehicle that had audio and video recording equipment.

Knocking on the door, it was answered by a very beautiful blonde woman. She was now in her thirties and had long, cascading blonde hair. Her lips were full, a bit too full if you ask me, but her eyes were warm and sensuous. She was taller than Cindy and still had a great body.

Cindy said "Diane, we're with the TCPD. Can we talk to you for a few minutes? You're not in trouble; we just need some information." Diane looked at us nervously and invited us in. Once inside, I put my finger to my lips in a 'hush' sign, and got out my bug detector. I found a bug on a living room lamp of the small apartment, one in the light fixture above the table in the kitchen/dining area, and one in her bedroom.

Again, putting my fingers over my mouth in a hush sign, I wrote on my notebook "Please come to our car." Diane did. She was in the backseat with me as Cindy sat in the driver's seat. Once in the car, I spoke.

"Diane, I am Commander Troy, and as you can see, your home has been bugged."

"I know who you are. You're the Iron Crowbar." said Diane. "But why is my house bugged, and who bugged it?"

"I hope to find those things out." I said. "Captain Ross and I are investigating Ryan Frost, who was your parole officer."

Diane's face fell. 'I... I can't talk about him..."

I said "Diane, I'm sure he and maybe Sarah Carter threatened you. But I can protect you. Tell us what you can, testify against them, and I'll help you disappear and find a new life elsewhere. He's probably doing the same thing to other women that he did to you, so help those other women, even if your own parole is over."

Diane gave this story, which I have cleaned up as it was interspersed with a good bit of tears and emotion:

"Sarah Carter was my first parole officer." Diane said. "I went to every appointment every two weeks, took all my drug tests and stayed clean, did everything she said do. A few months ago she told me that she was being promoted, and I'd be assigned to one of her parole officers, Ryan Frost."

"He was a really disgusting guy." she continued. "At my first appointment with him, he stood in front of me and opened his pants and took out his cock. He told me to suck it. I said no fucking way, and he said he's send me back to prison if I didn't. I got up to leave, and I was going to go to the Police, but at that moment Sarah Carter came in and said I'd better do what he said, or she would say I violated my parole and send me back to prison. So I had to suck that little bastard's prick with her watching."

"Sarah told me that if I ever told the police or anyone, I'd go back to prison and I'd be murdered inside. I believed that; two women I knew inside that had their paroles revoked were gang-raped and then murdered by the guards, and the going rumors were that they'd pissed off someone on the outside."

Diane continued: "They came to my apartment twice, about midnight. The first time, they went through all of my stuff, looking for drugs, and of course there weren't any... but Sarah had a bag of weed and said she'd plant this and have the cops find it if I didn't do what she said. She stripped naked and got on my bed and told me to eat her pussy. I didn't have any choice, but I'm okay with muffdiving so I went down on her. It was while I was doing that, that that bastard Frost got behind me and tried to put his cock in me. I jumped up and said no fucking way he was going to fuck me, and Sarah said that if I didn't let him, I'd be found with drugs, my parole violated, and I'd be in shit creek in the big house again. So I had to let that bastard rape me from behind while I ate out Sarah."

They left me alone for a couple of months, but about six weeks ago they came into my home again. My parole was supposed to be over, but they'd extended it a month, telling me it was a warning and a sign of what they could do. They said they were going to fuck me this one last time, and if I went along, they'd let my parole end and I'd be free... but if I ever said a word, I'd be murdered."

"Did Frost come inside you?" Cindy asked, "Or did he use a condom?"

"He didn't use a rubber," said Diane, "but he didn't come. He was getting close, he only lasted a couple of minutes, and Sarah told him not to blow inside me. So he got on her and they 'fucked to pop'. That was the first time, and that ended the night. The second time, Frost tossed my salad while I ate Sarah. I had to keep eating Sarah while that little shit tongued my ass. Then he raped me again, in my pussy, and he put his finger in my ass. He shot his load in Sarah's mouth that time."

"All right, let's go upstairs and you pack a bag of clothes and other items you want to take. Don't say anything that the bugs might pick up. We're going someplace safer, and after you testify, the FBI will hide you somewhere. Any place you'd like to go?"

"California. Los Angeles." said Diane.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was nearly midnight, and Mary Mahoney came up to the punk club entrance in the Tenderloin District, dressed in her normal 'punk' clothing with some embellishments.

"Private party. You're not on the list." said the doorman, a young black man in a nice suit, but plenty fit and ready for a fight.

"Here's my invitation." said Mary, holding up her Police I.D. badge. She was certified as a Detective and qualified with a gun.

"Where's your warrant?" the doorman said.

"Cooperate with them, Jerome." said the man coming up to them. It was T-Mac, lieutenant of the rapper T-Square. "They're keeping things cool and on the down-low instead of making a scene. We'll work with the I.C. here." Behind T-Mac was a large man in a trenchcoat, Tilley hat, and carrying the ubiquitous red crowbar.

"Yes sir." said the doorman dispassionately. He nodded at Mary. She went inside and to a table where a woman with dyed purple-red hair, cut in a mohawk, was sitting. The woman was wearing a leather vest that did not do much to hide her breasts, as nip-slips were happening. The woman was smoking a cigarette and downing a whiskey.




Case of the Parole Officer Ch. 02



"Hi Lita." said Mary, sitting down next to her.

"Do I know you?" said Lita.

"You do now." said Mary, flashing her badge.

"Aw, c'mon, my parole's over in two weeks. Can't you leave a girl alone?"

"That's why I'm here like this." said Mary. "We just want to talk to you, and make this as quiet and easy for you as we can. Come on out with me, it'll look like we're going home to have sex. You talk to my boss, we leave you alone and make sure you get to the end of your parole."

"And if I don't?"

"Ah, then it gets ugly." said Mary. "The Iron Crowbar himself will get interested, and he'll personally drag you out of here by your hair in front of all these people. And your parole? Forget about that..."

"All right." said Lita. They got up and left, going to the parking lot. Lita got in the passenger seat of the black SUV while Mary drove. They drove off, no one the wiser... and no one knowing that both holders of Crowbars were in the backseat, introducing themselves professionally (our profession) to Lita.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I found bugs in lamps in every room of Lita's small apartment, which she shared with a fellow punk bitch. So we went outside and back to the SUV.

"What the fuck is going on?" Lita asked, sitting in the shotgun seat next to Mary in the driver's seat. We'd parked at Ronald Reagan Park, and were watching to make sure we had not been followed.

"Lita, is Ryan Frost your parole officer?" I asked.

"Yes." said Lita.

"Has he forced you to have sex with him?"

"Uhhh..." Lita said. "I can't talk about that. I'll go back to jail, and I'll be murdered there."

"No, you won't." I said. "In fact, I'll make damn sure you get released from parole, and into witness protection if you want it. Or I'll talk to T-Mac and T-Square, and they'll protect you from the bastard. So please, tell us the truth: did Frost force you into sex?"

"He makes me give him head at every meeting." Lita said. She went on to explain that Frost forced her to swallow his semen, then she had to drink mouthwash and swallow that to remove all traces.

"When's your next meeting?" I asked.

"Tomorrow morning." she replied.

"Lita," I asked, "would you be willing to help us put that bastard in prison?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

They were sitting on the back deck of the home, watching the sun set as the woman brought them bottles of ice-cold beer.

"Here you go." said Melina. "How are you doing, Curly?" She gave the other bottle to her husband, Daniel Allgood..

"Very well, Melina, thank you. And you?" said Curly Goodwin, chief of TCPD Internal Affairs.

"Never better." said Melina. "I'll leave you two to talk. Call me if you need anything, hun."

"Thanks babe." said Daniel. Melina left the back deck of their home, going inside to look after their child.

"Nice view." said Goodwin, seeing the University to his left, the football stadium's north side dominating that view, the Town to his front, the lights of the streets twinkling, and the Fire Department Range lights and Water Works to his right. The glow of the sky reflected off the glassy surface of the River.

"Thanks." said Daniel. "So what's up?"

"This is just an off-the-record visit." said Curly. "You've got a problem brewing in your top leadership."

"Yeah, I know." said Daniel. "The Chief and Commander are at odds."

"It may be a lot worse than that." said Goodwin. "You know, because we've discussed it before, that Troy has some kind of device that disables our listening devices. We tried to upgrade, and wouldn't you know it, the guy has an upgraded device the very next morning. It's like he can read our minds, so we've given up trying to outwit him."

Daniel chuckled. "And probably wise of you to do so. You know... I remember when the Chief brought him in, as I.T. Supervisor and a Detective, and he had the most beautiful wife on the planet. The only mistake I think he's ever made is letting her go, but I'm not complaining: she's mine now. Anyway, you know how you and I talked about Malone being up to something, and there was someone behind him but we couldn't tell who it was?"

"Yeah, I remember." Curly replied.

"Well, we couldn't figure out that someone, but Don sure as hell is on his track. Don has pretty much taken over the Police Department and its Detectives, and he is on a mission to take the Shadow Man down. He is damn good at solving crimes, too, so be sure to give him every inch of space and degree of latitude he needs to get the job done."

"Yeah, I heard Griswold say that, too. Too bad he's retired." said Curly. "And that leads to the problem now. We tried to listen in on Troy and Ross today. Troy had the device on... but he turned it off and we got this snippet. Listen to it."

Daniel listened to the recording through the earpieces from what looked like a mini iPod. "Oh, shit." he said. He listened again. When he was done, his face was somber.

"They're both thinking of leaving?" Daniel said. "Oh my God, that is... geez, I told Bennett to back off." After a reflective pause, Daniel said "Any idea why the Chief hates Ross so much?"

"Oh yes." said Curly. "If Troy is in there with his device, we can't hear shit, but otherwise we're getting everything. Here, listen to file #2 in there." 

Daniel listened, then said "Okay, I see. Brownlee is in there talking trash about Ross every chance he gets. Calling her a 'dyke bitch'. And Bennett is agreeing, saying he hates faggots and lezbos too. And Ross is a lesbian..."

"Yes sir." said Curly. "Well, that's the gist of it. I wanted to let you know before something bad happens. I do happen to think Bennett is a good Police Chief, but he's making a huge mistake and agitating the Iron Crowbar."

"Yeah," said Daniel. "Thanks for letting me know, Curly."

"Thanks for the beer." said Curly. "I need to get on home." Daniel escorted him to the door, then went to the sofa where Melina was sitting, her legs curled under her, reading a magazine.

"Everything okay, honey?" she asked, still reading the magazine.

"No" Daniel said. He told her what was going on. "So... " he concluded, "what do I do now?"

"What you should always do... trust the Iron Crowbar." Melina replied matter-of-factly. "He'll fix your problem for you... he fixes everything."

"I hope so." Daniel said. "Priya Ajmani has been doing those newscasts about Oldeeds' murder. How's he going to fix that?"

"Don't worry about that." Melina said, smiling mysteriously. "The Iron Crowbar has power behind him that I'm not sure even he knows how to harness. But it will be all right. It always is. It will be all right."

Daniel said nothing as he thought about it. He remembered Vito Corleone's advice, and knew that keeping both Crowbars near him was the correct thing to do. He also realized his wife was right: whether on purpose or not, the Iron Crowbar just seemed to 'fix' everything.

He put his arm around his wife and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Melina. More than anything."

"Awww," Melina said, throwing the magazine across the room and turning to her husband. "I love you, too." They kissed. "Let's go to bed. I want to make love with you, darling" she said...

To be continued.

So, dear readers, the clues are there. What is going on? Who has committed what crimes? How will the Iron Crowbar(s) take down the wily perps? Tune in next chapter, same Crowbar time, same Crowbar channel...



Case of the Parole Officer 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, The Phyllis Files 1-2, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Phyllis Files 3, 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, The Phyllis Files 4, Pale Morning Light series, Silverfish series, Cold As Ice series, Secrets of Apple Grove series, Sting of the Scorpion series, Reichenbach series.

Case Of The Parole Officer, 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 10 - Snares 

Thursday morning, July 2d, 7:00am sharp. You know what and who that means: the one and only Bettina!

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" she shouted. "The SBI has opened its investigation of Henry Wargrave's death, and they report they are being met by stonewalling at every turn. The City Police has refused to help the SBI in any way, denying the SBI their police reports. Their attempts to withhold the Coroner's Inquest records was thwarted when the Superior Court ruled those records must be turned over, and the City Police have one week to show cause why the police reports and other public records should not be turned over."

"Additionally," Bettina said, "the SBI claims that TCPD Commander Donald Troy and Captain Cindy Ross took the Fifth when questioned by the SBI. Commander Troy issued a statement early this morning stating that he did not take the Fifth but only demanded to have a lawyer present during questioning, as the SBI was not asking questions but making criminal insinuations. Commander Troy also suggested that the SBI investigation was a politically-motivated effort by SBI Director Jack Lewis. As you know, Troy and Lewis sparred over the SBI bill in the Legislature some months ago, and there is evidently still bad blood between them..."

"You got that right." I said to the TV screen as I sipped coffee in the MCD room. "Cindy, what did you tell Ms. Wurtzburg?"

"She didn't bother to call me." Cindy said. "I'm surprised you even gave her a statement."

"Oh, how else could I take the gratuitous shot at Lewis?" I replied. "I think Chief Griswold would be very proud of me, don't you think?"

"You better believe he is!" said a gruff voice behind me. I turned to find Chief Griswold himself right behind me.

"Chief!" I exclaimed. Our handshake quickly turned into a hug, then he hugged Teresa, Cindy and Tanya, then shook hands with all the other officers.

"Miss Cummings," he said jovially, "are you ready for hunting season?"

"Yes sir!" exclaimed Joanne happily. "The Sheriff's wife and I are going up to Lake Amengi-Nunagen this fall. Want to come with us?"

"I'd love to, but fishing is my thing." said the Chief. "And besides, my wife would never let me go anywhere like that with two lovely young ladies."

"Smart lady." I said. "What brings you here, Chief?"

"Oh, a meeting with the Chief and Sheriff." said Griswold. At that, both Cindy and my eyebrows shot up in understanding. The old Chief chuckled.

"You know, both your eyebrows shoot up exactly the same way when you're thinking sarcastic thoughts." said Griswold.

"Next thing you'll be telling us is that we're blood relatives." I shot back. Everyone laughed at that. I handed the Chief a mug of coffee and we filled him in on the current case, saying that today was the 'come-to-Jesus' day of resolution of it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 9:30am, Lita entered the conference room at the Parole Office. Ryan was inside, waiting for her. He was wearing suspenders holding up his pants, his pair shape and wide belly all the more obvious, the collars of his faded button-down shirt looking wilted.

"Ah, there you are, Lita." he said softly. "Just lock that door behind you." Lita did so, her face somber.

"Okay, you're pretty close to the end." said Ryan as Lita placed her purse on a side table near the door. "Hey! bring that over here."

Lita did so. Ryan checked the contents of the purse, emptying them on the table and going through them. He carefully examined the purse as well. "What's this?" he asked, holding up a sandwich baggie full of tissues.

"Tissues." she said. "I've been having allergies. What's wrong? Ya think I've got a gun in there?"

"No, a camera." Ryan said. "Or a bug. Your parole would be over and you'd be back in prison if I found one."

"Man, you're paranoid." said Lita. "Can we just get this overwith?"

"I call the shots here, lady." said Frost. Satisfied that the purse did not contain a bug, he told Lita to sit down. He stood in front of her and unzipped his pants, bringing out his five inch cock.

"Okay, baby, you know what to do." he said.

"Aw, c'mon," said Lita. "Can't we just have a meeting without this?"

"You know the deal, Lita." said Frost. "You're so close to the end, to being free. Now get going, bitch. Suck my cock."

In the second conference room, the Crime Lab's audio technician pumped his fist. We had just recorded what we needed.

Lita guided Frost's average-at-best penis to her mouth. Ryan thrust forward, sliding his man-sausage over her tongue. She began fellating him in earnest, her lips sliding back and forth on his cock, using two fingers to jack the base of his meat, trying to get him to come quickly and end the ordeal. Ryan put the bottle of mouthwash on the table, next to Lisa's baggie of tissues.

As she sucked, she got the tissues, all of them out of the baggie, blew her nose into them, then put the tissues down and took Frost's meat back into her mouth. He did not touch the tissues.

"Ohhhhh, yeah, that's good." he said. "Keep sucking my big cock, slut. Oh yeahhhh... oh... ohhhhh... OH YEAH!" In less than a minute, Frost was climaxing, pumping his load into Lita's mouth. "Swallow that load, bitch! Swallow every drop of my sperm!"

Letting Frost's cock slip out of her mouth, Lita reached over, took the baggie, and spit the parole officer's semen into the bag as she jumped up and raced to the door. Unlocking it, she ran out, carrying the baggie.

"Hey, you! Come back here!" yelled Frost, putting his cock back in his pants as he raced to the door. He ran headlong into red and blue crossed crowbars, making an "X" right at his chest.

"Oh, you're not going anywhere, Mr. Frost." said the very tall, broad-shouldered redheaded officer holding the red crowbar. I pushed him back into the room, followed by Cindy Ross. Outside, Technician Christina Cho had Lita spit into a separate evidence baggie, then swabbed her mouth twice, to get as much semen evidence as she could. Other technicians came into the room, photographed then confiscated the mouthwash. Photographs of Frost's unzipped pants had been made, as well.

"I want a lawyer." Frost said immediately.

"And it better be the best you can afford." I said. "Captain Ross, would you do the honors.

"Certainly, Commander." she said. She turned Frost around, bent him over the table, and affixed handcuffs to his wrists. "Ryan Frost, you are under arrest for sexual battery of a person in your custody. You have the right to remain silent..."

Part 11 - Back and Forth 

Withhold my surprise that a lawyer from Gresham & Mason, P.C. came to represent Ryan Frost in Interrogation-1. Sarah Carter was in Interrogation-2, having been arrested at home, and her lawyer was from Prodder, Ryder & Reems, P.C.

In the room with me was Cindy Ross and ADA Paulina Patterson, who had obtained the warrants for us from Judge Watts the previous evening.

"Okay, Ryan." said Cindy. "We have you for sexual battery. We have victims and their statements, and more are going to come forth. Why don't you save yourself one hell of a lot of trouble and tell us about these burglary rings you've been providing false alibis for."

"I don't know what you're talking about." said Ryan.

"I don't know that you have anything on my client, either." said the lawyer. "It's his honorable word against the false allegation of those criminal women who will say anything to get off parole."

"Except for the small details that we have audio of him demanding Lita give him oral sex," said Cindy, "not to mention his semen in a plastic bag, more semen samples from her mouth after she ran out... and her testimony as well as that of several other victims. No, Counselor, we have this man dead to rights, and he is in for some serious prison time."

"And that leads to these burglaries." I said. "For example, Jack Spratt was burglarizing the Myers home last week, yet you said you were at his home on a surprise inspection at the same time."

"What of it?" Frost said, sweat forming on his brow over the thick black-frame glasses.

I said "And you told me yesterday that Jonas Grumby was also being visited at the time he was alleged to have invaded a home? You gave me a paper of your log of that yesterday, in front of Detective Purvis. I also have those electronic logs on my evidence servers."

"Again, so what?" Frost asked.

"It's your word against my client's, Commander." said the lawyer. "Absolutely worthless." I smiled at the legal beagle, a malicious smile full of victory. The lawyer became worried, instantly.

"The problem, Counselor," I said, leaning forward slightly, "is that Jonas Grumby was shot dead by the homeowner during the home invasion. His body was examined on the floor of that home... at the time Mr. Frost here says he was with Grumby at Grumby's home. Grumby's body was transported to our morgue and never returned to his home that night, so there was no possible way Mr. Frost could have visited him at his home and found him to be there."

I just love it when perps's and their legal beagles's faces fall when I drop the crowbar, er hammer on them.

"So, Ryan," I said, "you have got some seriously bad stuff coming your way. I have Sarah Carter in the next room. One or the other of you are going to take a deal. Will it be you?"

"I need to talk to my lawyer." said Frost. We got up to leave. I did not stop, but went right on into I-2, Cindy in tow.

"Ah, Ms. Carter." I said. "I'm going to read you your rights for the camera." I did so, then asked if she understood them. She refused to say anything, not even to answer the question.

"Why is my client here?" said her lawyer. "What's the meaning of this 'sexual battery' charge?"

"Your client forced parolees in her custody to perform oral sex acts upon her." said Cindy. "We're just beginning to build the list of victims, who will be witnesses."

"Please." said the lawyer. "Parolees making these charges? They'd tell any lie to get out of their situations."

"Numbers start to add up." Cindy said. "Juries are going to get sleepy hearing hour after hour, day after day, of people making these accusations against her. Yeah, one case you might can make the 'your word against mine' thing stick, but when it's ten, fifteen, twenty... more... it's not going to be good for your client."

"We'll take our chances." said the lawyer.

"You might take your chances on this." I said. "I've got Ryan Frost in the other room. And that poor man is in a world of shit, really bad shit, much worse than what your client is facing. He's dealing with burglary rings and even a dead body he's going to have to explain. I really am glad I'm not him right now." I shook my head in mock sadness.

Then I said "So Ryan has every reason to make a deal and throw your client under the bus. And once he does, I don't need Sarah's testimony at all. She'll go down, and as some of the judges here even give consecutive sentences, we might be talking decades of prison time before she's done. I'd suggest you consider coming correct and testifying against Frost." 

"You can take that crowbar and shove it up your cracker ass." retorted Sarah Carter with a sneer. "You can go straight to hell."

With that, I got up and left I-2, Cindy following.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Who's going to crack first?" Paulina asked as we sat in the breakroom not far from the Interrogation Rooms. 

"Doesn't matter." I said. "We've got them both ice cold. What we need to talk about, Paulina, is what you'll offer them for their cooperation."

"What's your suggestion?" Paulina asked. Smart as well as beautiful she is, I thought to myself.

"For Sarah, nothing more than concurrent sentences." I said. "She's unimportant, and her testimony only solidifies what we have on Frost. As to Frost, we can offer him more if he comes correct and helps us take down the burglars."

"I would not be happy if he skates on raping these women." said Cindy.

"Neither would I." said Paulina. "He's going to have to admit to at least some instances of that, for which he'll do time. If he hands us the burglars, I can essentially drop the aiding-and-abetting and conspiracy charges. And he has to give us Sarah. We'll make the big example of her if he does."

Thirty minutes later, Rudistan came to us and said "Frost's lawyer wants to talk."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Okay, what are you offering?" asked the wily Gresham & Mason lawyer.

I laid it out: "In exchange for your client admitting to two counts of sexual battery of persons in his custody, one count of rape, seven counts of falsifying official County records, and one count of lying to Police, followed by his deposition and then testimony against Sarah Carter for sexual battery and rape charges, we will not prosecute for conspiracy or aiding and abetting, nor add multiple additional rape charges as we discover them when we talk to more and more women that were assigned to him as their parole officer. We also expect him to testify against the burglars for whom he provided false alibis."

"We need more than that." said the lawyer.

"And your idea is?" said Paulina, her voice full of venom and acerbity.

"His testimony against Carter and the burglars in exchange for one count of coercion of a person in his custody, and immunity against all future charges from potential accusers." said the lawyer.

"We're nowhere close." said Paulina, more to me. "Let me be clear, Counselor: Frost is doing time for sexual battery, if not outright rape. That is not negotiable. At all. He will do time for it."

"If you want my client to cooperate," said the lawyer, "you're going to have to give him something in return. That's how this works, Ms. Patterson. The only thing of value you can offer is to take the sexual battery and rape charges off the table. The rest of the stuff is minor... if you can even prove it in court."

"Counselor, there are two small holes in your argument." I said. "First, we do not need Frost's cooperation. We have his semen in a little evidence bag. We have his semen in his parolee's mouth. We have an audio tape, recorded under a warrant, of the sex act being forced upon his victim. And I have nothing but time and officers to go find case after case after case of other parolees, who now have nothing to fear if they come out against him."

"And second," I said, "whenever I see a Gresham & Mason lawyer in my Interrogation Rooms, I know that a death sentence hangs over that lawyer's client. Oh, not from a Court, but from someone far, far worse. Mr. Frost is not going to last very long unless he gives me a damn good reason to protect him."

I added: "No, that's not a threat from me nor the Police... but from the person out there who was behind the series of burglaries, the person who coordinated the entire scheme, the person who is the beneficiary of the stolen loot, which strangely has not appeared in the open nor criminal worlds of sales and fencing. Mr. Frost, I am not kidding, you are in danger, I can only protect you to the extent you remain in my custody, but when you hit State Prison..." I shrugged my shoulders in mock resignation of Frost's fate.

I saw the deep anger and hatred in the lawyer's eyes as he realized exactly what I was saying to him and his client. Frost was looking scared.

"Let's go." I said, getting up. Paulina followed me out.

Lt. Wes 'Coldiron' Masters came up to me as we entered the hallway. "Commander," he said, "we've made seven arrests. They're being processed at County Jail. Are there any you're going to want to talk to?"

"Yes." I said. "Howard Spratt. Hold him separately from all others until I get a chance to go over there."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thirty more minutes. Purvis came out of the anteroom to Interrogation-2. "They're just sitting there." he said. "She's not saying two words. Her lawyer is nodding off, falling asleep."

"Cool beans. I suspect she's not going to break at all. It's all about Frost now. Have Rudistan ready to sit in the room with us, if he wants to." I said, knowing Rudistan was quietly coming up behind me.

"Oh you know I want to, Commander." said Rudistan, grinning as he realized I had known he was there. "I love watching you make these guys cry." I just laughed. Just then, the Duty Desk texted Rudistan, who told me. "There it is, sir, his lawyer is ready for you."

We went back into I-1, Rudistan following me and Paulina into the room, Cindy staying in the anteroom with Teresa and Purvis.

"If my client acquiesces to any sexual charges, he'll be raped in jail." said the attorney, not fooling me as to the real threat to Frost. "So we have to have protection for him. Punk City, Supermax, whatever. Otherwise, we'll fight the charges like hell in Court. I don't think you have as strong a case as you think. The parolee consented to oral sex to get off parole more quickly, her spitting the semen in the bag was at your request and therefore entrapment, the rest of it is his word against the unworthy word of criminals on parole."

"This is not even a good try." I said. "Counselor, you are doing your client a huge disservice, here." I got up. "There's no point in further conversation with them, Ms. Patterson. Mr. Frost, you have our offer. Take it or leave it. I'm not coming back into this room. The next time you see me will be in Court, testifying against you. In the meantime, I have dozens of your female parolee's to talk to, and Ms. Carter as well. Good luck to you, sir." I turned to go.

"Wait!" said Frost, finally breaking, desperation on his face. "Look, ya gotta work with me here."

"I can't help you, Mr. Frost." I said.

"Wait!" said Frost. "Can I get a new lawyer? This guy's throwing me under the bus! Please!"

I turned to Frost. "That's up to you." I said. "I can't advise you what to do about your legal representation."

"Go!" said Frost to the lawyer. "This man no longer represents me. I want new counsel. You, go!" The Gresham & Mason lawyer got up to go.

"Your lawyers keep getting thrown out of my Interrogation Rooms by your own clients, Counselor." I said, grinning.

"Listen, you fucking bastard..." said the lawyer, coming up to me with his index finger pointed at me, as if he were going to jab it in my face. Rudistan came forward, ready to pound the bastard down, and the legal beagle backed off. As he left, he gave me a brutally ugly look.




Case of the Parole Officer Ch. 03



"Do you want new representation, Mr. Frost?" I asked.

"Yes." said Frost. "Yes, I do. Can I call someone?"

"Sure." I said. "When he gets here, I will come back in."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Mr. Dennison was a tall, middle-aged black man and a lawyer in private practice, making his living as a tax attorney, real estate attorney, and sometimes working for the County Employees Union. It was that Union that Frost had called, and who'd called Mr. Dennison.

He talked with Paulina about the charges, then conferred with Frost for ten minutes, after which Frost was ready to take a deal.

Back in I-1, Dennison said to me and Paulina "He'll give you Carter, he'll give you the burglary ring, answer to one count of forcing an unnatural act on a person in his custody, and he wants and needs protection in prison."

Paulina said "It's gotta be more. Two counts of sexual battery on persons in his custody at the very, very least, and on one of those counts it will be in conjunction with Sarah Carter when he throws her under the bus. It really should be a rape charge. And then an aiding-and-abetting charge, just one count."

Dennison whispered to Frost that the best Frost was going to get was the 2 sexual battery charges. When I said he'd have protection and would be relatively safe, Frost agreed.

"Okay, you're right." said Frost. "First, Sarah Carter would take me to women parolee's homes, and she'd force them into sex. Diane Buttercup was the only time I'd indulged in sex with a parolee; the other times was oral sex and then I'd come in Sarah's mouth as she sucked me to completion. I never came inside the parolee's in order to leave no semen that could be evidence."

"But you did sexually penetrate Diane Buttercup vaginally?" Paulina asked.

"And orally." said Frost. "I ate her pussy and tongued her ass, and she sucked my cock as well as the penetration."

"And you forced Lita to perform oral sex on you this morning?" Paulina asked.

"Yes." said Frost. Paulina turned to me.

"Mr. Frost," I said, "on at least seven occasions, you gave false alibis to perpetrators of burglaries in the Heritage Cloisters subdivision, did you not?"

"I gave false alibis for those crimes, but I didn't know where they were nor what they were doing." said Frost.

"Specifically, did you give an alibi to Howard Spratt, also known as 'Jack Spratt' last week?"

"Yes. I said I was surprise inspecting his home." said Frost. "In actuality, I never went there. You guys are saying he burgled a home at the same time, but I'm not sure of the details. I just know I was paid to give the alibi."

"How much were you paid, each instance?"

"It varied." said Frost. "At least five hundred dollars, and on two occasions it was two thousand dollars. I never really asked why the amounts varied; I assumed it had to do with how successful the crime was for which I was giving the alibi."

"I see." I said. "Who hired you to give these alibis?"

"Sarah Carter brought me into it." said Frost. "She was the one who showed me that I could force the women parolee's to suck me off or even fuck me, and she fucked me a few times herself. Then she suggested I give alibis to parolees in exchange for money. She set up the first two, including the Grumby one. I didn't know he'd been killed, since the perps never contacted me afterward. I just got money in an envelope in my desk."

"From Sarah?" I asked.

"I don't know." said Frost. "The cash just showed up in the desk, in an envelope. After the first two cases, I just got a note at home with a name on it, the name of the parolee. He'd come to the meeting and tell me when he needed an alibi, and I logged it."

"Paulina," I said, "get that in writing, especially about Spratt. I need to go do other interrogations."

Part 12 - Pressing the Hunt 

I entered Interrogation-2 with Cindy Ross. "Okay, Ms. Carter," I said, "Frost has accepted a deal, and he has given me enough to put you away for a very long time. Unless you cooperate, you may never see the outside of a prison again."

"Go fuck yourself, cracker." said Sarah Carter. "I ain't talking to you. Ever."

"That's taking the Fifth, in my book." said her lawyer. "At this time I must ask you to stop interrogating her."

"She doesn't have to answer, but she can listen to me talk." I said. "As should you, Counselor. Ms. Carter is in deep kimshee. We are talking charges of rape, sexual battery of a person in her custody, sodomy, conspiracy to commit rape and sodomy, and conspiracy to commit burglary in providing false alibis to criminals committing crimes. Now I'm willing to seriously reduce these charges if Ms. Carter provides me one piece of information: who was her contact, who put her up to these crimes?"

"What reductions are you offering us?" asked the lawyer.

"It don't matter!" Sarah said to her counsel, nearly shouting. "I am not taking any deals. This cracker can go fuck himself in his lily-white ass. I am not giving him a god damn thing. You can sit and spin on that crowbar, Cracker!"

The lawyer looked at me with something of a shrug on his face. My dealings with Sarah Carter were over, until I would testify against her in Court... and we would be bringing a heavy, heavy hammer down upon her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Who do you think is behind Carter?" Cindy asked as we drove to County Jail and Third Precinct Headquarters.

"Who else?" I replied. "The Shadow Man. The burglaries fit him to a 'T'. Using parole officers to give the perps alibis is a brilliant step, also. The only reason we really got anything is because there were simply too many of them under one parole officer, that parole officer was also raping parolees as a separate issue, and of course one of the burglars was shot dead and Frost didn't know to not enter, or to erase, the log entry. That was the tiny slip that got him. Otherwise, we'd have nothing."

I continued: "You and my mom had that case where oddball stuff was stolen, and it led you to solving that crime. This was something similar, though the items were more valuable: an old set of books, some paintings stolen while a Greuze was left hanging right there in the study, then taking things like silver and baubles to disguise the real objects of the break-ins."

"Yeah, I see that." said Cindy. "What's next?"

"Spratt." I said. "I hope to turn him and find out where and to whom he delivered the stuff. And to get more evidence for the bust you are going to make."

"Me?" said Cindy, growing happier.

"Oh yes." I said. "You have come to the correct solution. It's your bust."

Cindy was smiling and happy the rest of the drive. And deservedly so.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As we entered Precinct 3 Headquarters, Precinct Captain Susan Weston came up to Cindy. "Captain, I would like to apologize to you for the other day. It won't happen again."

"Good." Cindy said. "And leave my Lieutenant alone, whatever your problems with her are."

"I certainly will." said Susan Weston. I could tell she was lying like a dog in the shade about that, but let it go.

"Bring Howard Spratt to Interrogation Room 1." I said. "If he wants a lawyer, let's get one up here quickly."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Spratt and his lawyer from Chase, Lynch & Berry were sitting in the Interrogation room, two uniformed guards behind them, when Cindy and I entered the room.

"Ah, Commander, you're back." said Spratt. "Come on now, you don't have anything on me."

"We've got Frost." I said. "He's confessed. He's thrown you under the bus."

"Oh, come on." said the lawyer. "Dirty criminal rapist saying anything at all to help himself, willing to tell you what you want to hear to save his own worthless ass."

"Which he has not saved." I said. "And how do you know about Frost being a rapist?"

The lawyer smiled, as if he had me. He pulled his cellphone from out of the breast pocket of his suit. "We lawyers talk." he said. "I got the call from Frost's attorney... his former attorney... telling me exactly what you were trying to do to frame my client here."

"I see." I said, smiling. "Your allegations of a frame-up aside, Mr. Frost's confession is enough to get a warrant to search your client's home, which is happening right now. Not that we need it, Spratt being a parolee... but we're not going to give you any loopholes to squeeze your client through."

"Oh come on." said the legal beagle. "Do you really think my client would leave the stolen property in his home all this time?"

"No." I said. "By the time all is said and done, he will be giving me the names of the people to whom he has delivered the stolen merchandise. I'm willing to bet that he didn't do away with his fake truck driver I.D. I'm willing to guess that he didn't throw away the hat and coveralls that not only the gate guard saw, but two cameras saw. We've long since been tracing the truck itself, and the sleazy little operation your client is a part of. They'll identify him."

"This is absolutely crazy talk." said the lawyer, getting up. "If that's all you think you have, then you have nothing. Come on, Spratt, let's go."

"Your client is under arrest, he is going nowhere." I said.

The lawyer looked at me. "You can't hold him for more than 72 hours, and every minute you keep him is a minute I'm in front of press cameras blasting your name."

"Go ahead." I said. "Frost's confession is enough to keep him. We've secured the arrest warrant already; the D.A. has the right to charge him without having to go to a Grand Jury. Your client is going all the way to trial... unless he confesses."

"You're so full of shit it's coming out your ears." said the lawyer, sitting back down. "This is absolutely ridiculous, Commander Troy. And I will have your god-damn badge because of this. Spratt, invoke your Fifth Amendment Rights, and if they try to even speak to you without me present, I'll have this asshole's head on a spike."

"Before you do, Spratt," I said, "I'll tell you one last thing. The person you conspired with to burgle the Myers home... we're about to go make an arrest. And when we do, you will be thrown under the bus yet again. You're going to get it from both ends... and your parole will be violated, and you'll go back to prison. Too bad, too... you almost made it out, but you were tempted into a relapse. I could've helped you, but your lawyer has now put you in a world of shit."

I got up to go. "See you around." Cindy got up to follow me. Spratt looked like he wanted to say something, but his lawyer quickly whispered to him, and Spratt stayed silent.

As we walked back to the car, Cindy said "You know, I have to admit it: he's right... our case on Spratt is thin. We don't have too much, and Frost's confession might not be enough to swing a jury."

"No, we have him ice cold." I said. "But I was willing to go easy on him. He really was trying to go straight, and then slipped up. He may have even been forced back into crime. Okay, let's go make your arrest."

Part 13 - Reading the Riddle 

Paulina met us at the Myers home in the Heritage Cloisters subdivision, warrant in hand. "Judge Folsom needed some persuading, but the phone records got us over the hump." the beautiful black A.D.A. said.

"Good." Cindy said. Four uniformed officers were accompanying us, led by Sergeant Rudistan. "Commander, you're going to talk to Mr. Myers?"

"Yep." I said. "Lead the way."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Ah, Commander," said Mr. Myers. He was seated in his study behind his desk as I entered the room, no other officers with me. "Any new information?"

"We have hopes, Mr. Myers, we have hopes." I said. "And we're still working on recovering your valuables, though it might take a bit more time."

"Splendid!" said Mr. Myers.

"Mr. Myers, allow me to ask you a question." I said. "Has anyone ever told you that you might be mildly autistic?"

"Uh... yes." said Mr. Myers. "My doctor said I had a mild condition of something, and that it was like autism, but I'm not badly affected. I seem to be good with numbers, and it's easy to see the patterns of the Markets. But I don't seem to have the same emotional reactions as others to some things. I just do what I like, enjoy the things that make me happy, then move along..."

"Yes sir." I said. "By the way, why did you withdraw from the Markets? Your ability to see patterns suggested that?"

"Oh yes, son." said Myers. "Those idiots that think they are experts, the idiots of the Federal Reserve and the other big banks of the world. But they have screwed up everything. A big crash is coming... a very big crash. You better believe I got out almost completely. My money is in safe instruments, Erlene and I will be okay in the remaining years that we have. But do be cautious, Commander... do be cautious of the markets."

"Thank you for the advice." I said. "Mr. Myers... why didn't you tell anyone that the Greuze is real?"

Mr. Myers was not fazed by my surprise comment. He looked at me with something of a twinkle in his eye. "That Silverfish man you captured easily defeated some of the best bank vaults in the world. Truly, there is no safe place for it, so I hide it in plain sight. It has worked so far."

"And you did not tell anyone about it." I said. "Not even those closest to you..."

Mr. Myers peered at me again. "That is true. I love my wife, and always have, even though there are times that love was not deserved. There are some secrets that remain secrets because they are told to no one at all."

"Like whispering down a well at noon..." I said, referring to an ancient Japanese custom.

"Exactly, Commander." said Myers. "And I did notice that pattern of which of my things were stolen. I know that's why you're here..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"I have a couple of questions for you, Mrs. Myers." said Captain Cindy Ross, sitting in Mrs. Myers's sitting room with the now-elderly trophy wife. Detective Joanne Cummings was also present, and positioned as Cindy had directed her. 

"How can I be of help?" asked Erlene.

"There's just a few things I am having trouble understanding," said Cindy, "and I need your help to clear up. First of all, Mrs. Myers, why do you suppose that the only paintings stolen were those sea portraits by that recently deceased painter? But the other paintings were left behind, including the ones in your husband's study?"

"I... I really don't know." said Erlene. "The thief must've known their value and taken them."

"I entirely agree." said Captain Ross. "By the way, do you know the value of the paintings left behind? I understand you have a degree in Fine Arts, and worked at the City Museum of Art years ago."

"That is true," said Erlene, "but to be very honest with you, Captain, my degree was an 'M-R-S' degree. Back in those days, women like myself looked for good, eligible husbands to marry. I was fortunate enough to meet Hamilton. But I never was an expert in art. And according to my husband, the only paintings of real value in the home were those three that were stolen, and only after the artist had died."

"Yes, interesting." Cindy said. "And the guns... could you tell which were the antiques and which were real?"

"Oh, no, certainly not." said Erlene. "In fact, I hate guns. Only the police should have guns. But Hamilton loved his guns, and loved his cowboy competitions. They bored me to tears, so I stopped going to them with him."

"I see." said Cindy. "Mrs. Myers, did you lock the doors before leaving for your Florida trip, the trip you were on when the burglary was committed?"

"To my knowledge, yes." said Erlene. "And I set the alarm just before leaving, as well."

"The outside door to the garage, you locked it?" Cindy asked, peering hard at Erlene.

"That door usually remains locked." Erlene said... peering back at Cindy. "I can't really recall if I went over and checked it."

"That's curious." said Cindy. "Most people make a point to check all doors and windows before leaving on a trip. I'm surprised you would overlook it."

"Again, Captain, I might have but simply don't recall." Erlene said levelly.

"Mrs. Myers," said Cindy, "did you know the combination of the wall safe in your husband's study?"

"Yes, of course." said Erlene. "I stored my most valuable jewelry pieces in it."

"How do you think the burglar knew the combination to the safe?" Cindy said. She noticed the look on Mrs. Myers's face and in the older woman's eyes. It was surprise, but not the surprise of hearing something unexpected... it was surprise mixed with fear.

"I don't know that I would assume the robber knew the combination, Captain." said Erlene, a bit severely. "I understand thieves have very sophisticated safecracking tools, these days."

"Yes, that is true." said Cindy, looking hard into Erlene's eyes. "But the Police also have tools, and our Commander was once in the security and alarms business. He is very familiar with both the alarm system of this house and the safe in the study. He helped our Crime Lab team discover, in a manner which they can prove in Court, that the safe was opened by simply entering the keycode combination and not using any sophisticated devices."

Cindy continued: "Mrs. Myers, the criminal knew the combination of the safe and opened it with that knowledge. Now how do you suppose the perp obtained that information."

"I have no idea, Captain." said Mrs. Myers. "Now if that is all..." She acted as if she was about to stand up.

"No, ma'am, it is not." said Cindy. "Mrs. Myers, do you have a cellphone?"

"Er, yes, yes I do." said Mrs. Myers.

"Did you make or receive any calls on it while in Florida?" Cindy asked. Mrs. Myers's eyes showed real fear now, to Cindy's amusement. She also was feeling the mental energy of Mrs. Myers's discomfort.

"I don't really recall." said Mrs. Myers.

"Where is that cellphone now?" asked Cindy.

Mrs. Myers sat up very straight, her face a mask of steel, her eyes blazing. "I don't know, Captain Ross. And right now, I think I have a desire not to know."

"Then I shall help you find it." Cindy said. She pulled a cellphone out of an evidence bag and dialed a number.

Detective Cummings was standing next to Mrs. Myers's purse. A phone began ringing inside. Cummings went into the purse, pulled out Mrs. Myers's phone, answered it, then came forward to the two women.

"Interesting, Captain." said Joanne Cummings. "Why, the number appears to be that of the cellphone you are holding now."

"As the Commander loves to say: 'Withhold my surprise.'." said Cindy, gleaming at Mrs. Myers. She got up. "Stand up, Mrs. Myers."

Mrs. Myers stood up. Cindy moved behind her with handcuffs and began affixing them to the older woman's wrists behind her back. "Erlene Myers, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit burglary. You have the right to remain silent..."

As Cindy read Erlene her rights, Hamilton Myers walked into the room, a redheaded man with a red crowbar behind him. As husband and wife made eye contact, he said "Woman, you have betrayed me for the last time. Get thee gone! Captain, get her out of here."

Part 14 - Circular Arguments 

I entered Interrogation-1 at Headquarters, my voice full of song.

"Jack Spratt could eat no fat,... the wife could eat no lean..." I sang, "and so betwixt the both of them... they robbed the mansion clean."

"Is there a point to this?" Howard 'Jack' Spratt's lawyer asked. Spratt was sitting next to him. They'd been transported to Headquarters per my instructions.

"Indeed there is." I said. "Apologies for the bad singing dramatics. Allow me to make up for it. Let's watch some TV." I pointed to Rudistan, who turned on the monitor. It showed what was going on in Interrogation-2. Paulina Patterson and Cindy Ross were interviewing Erlene Myers. The sound to the TV was off.




Case of the Parole Officer Ch. 03



"As you can see, Mr. Spratt," I said, "Mrs. Myers has been arrested, and she is now cutting a deal. She is telling us everything she knows about her collusion with you to steal the valuables out of her husband's home, including the phone call you made to her to get the combination to the safe. We have the phone records for that, also."

Spratt was not watching. He was bowed over, his head on the table. He was sobbing.

"I tried!" he gasped. "I tried to go straight!"

"Why did fall into this?" I asked.

"My client has invoked." said the lawyer.

"He'd better consider making a statement." I said. "He is in a world of shit right now, Counselor. Revocation of his parole, and we're going to add the Myers burglary to it. The judges around here like to give consecutive sentences, so we're talking a long, long time before he even gets a chance at parole again."

"I need a moment with my client." the beagle said, resignation in his voice.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Prosecutor Paulina Patterson met me in the anteroom to Interrogation-2.

"She confessed all, gave us a statement." said Paulina. "The question is, what do we do with her? Technically, it's her own stuff that was stolen. The conspiracy charge might stick, but it could be tenuous with a good lawyer."

"I think I can help you make a decision." I said. "Let's go inside." We went into I-2, where Cindy and Erlene were waiting.

"Mrs. Myers," I said, "how long do you have to live?"

"Wha..." said Erlene, her eyes again blazing. "How... how did you know?"

I looked at Cindy and Paulina. "Cancer." I said. "I'd guess melanoma, metastasized to other organs of her body. She's been undergoing treatments, to no avail."

All eyes were on me, and all registered shock.

"ADA Patterson, I'd suggest full immunity for this suspect if she cooperates and gives a full confession and statement implicating Howard Spratt in the burglary of her home. It'll need to be recorded; Mrs. Myers may not live to see the trial."

Paulina agreed to the deal. Cindy came with me as Paulina remained behind with Erlene (and Sr. Patrolman Morton) to do the paperwork and arrange the taped testimony.

"Obviously, I am still not at your level." Cindy said. "How did you know she was sick?"

"She's wearing a wig, her skin color is not quite right, and her illness was part motive for the crime." I said. "She's been sunbathing for days on end for years... decades. You can see it in her skin breaking down now. She developed a melanoma, and the rest is not hard to deduce."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Back in Interrogation-1 I had a much more amenable Spratt and Spratt's lawyer to work with.

"What will you offer us?" the attorney asked.

"Well," I said, "I can't promise anything. But I might, just might, get the D.A. to reduce the charge to receiving stolen goods. And if you're really helpful, and Mr. Myers gets his stuff back, and I fill my jails with bad people whom you have given to me, then I might possibly persuade the D.A. and the judge to give you one more year in a halfway house, then a few more years of parole."

I continued, more for Cindy's education than anything else: "I know your parole officer Ryan Frost dragged you into this, threatened to revoke your parole if you didn't do it. You throw him under the bus and I'm on your side in this whole thing. You've made a step backwards, Howie, but not necessarily off a cliff. Now Ryan Frost... that bastard is going down hard, and you're going to help me rip him a new asshole."

Rarely have I seen a look of gratitude on a criminal's face like I was seeing on Spratt's face at the moment. He began talking.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As Lieutenants Tanya Perlman, Teresa Croyle and Wes 'Coldiron' Masters planned their operation to take out the fencing operation, Cindy and I talked in my office.

"I feel like we went in circles." Cindy said. "You busted Frost, he gives us Spratt, but not enough, so we go to the other end and get Erlene Myers and she rats out Spratt, who then gives us Frost again.

"Yes." I said. "And it was you that busted Erlene, which was brilliant work. I've already sent emails to the Chief... cc'd to the Sheriff and the Mayor." Cindy smiled shyly, blushing.

"And you're right." I said. "It was the fencing operation and Ryan Frost I want to destroy. We'll get the fencers tonight; Teresa's already confirmed Spratt's information with C.I.s. And Frost, he's going down very, very hard. And sometimes we have to go in circles and get 'A' to rat on 'B', who rats on 'C', who then rats on 'A'."

"It was an interesting case." said Cindy. "How did you get onto Frost's part of it? Because he was so many people's alibis?"

"That was part of it." I said. "I don't think he realized it would be a red flag when so many alibis were coming right back to him. But what really gave him away was that one of the criminals, Grumby, was shot and killed at the scene of his crime... and Frost forgot to erase that log entry of the surprise inspection. Of course that log entry couldn't be true since Grumby had died and we knew it. Then we start looking into Frost, find the sexual abuse allegations, and it was all too easy to go on from there."

"I was right about Erlene being suspicious." said Cindy. "But I never quite understood a motive."

"I think she told you." I said. "She was bored with her husband and her life, and that life was close to coming to an end. She said she got her Fine Arts degree as an 'M-R-S' degree, then she charms and marries the up-and-coming Hamilton Myers at an art event. But she had no clue about the Greuze, and even with him telling her it's a replica, a Fine Arts degreed person should've had a clue. If this local cop on the beat could see it was real, certainly she should have. And then you realized that she had to have given Spratt the safe code."

"Yeah, 'local cop on the beat', my ass." Cindy said, the sarcasm of her voice coming through strongly. "The Iron Crowbar is an art expert, too. Geez, criminal here have no shot."

I smiled. Cindy could not know the real reason I knew about the Greuze, and it was not any kind of art expertise. I don't know shit from shinola about art. I just know the research I had been doing of a certain Consultant of Crime...

"So why didn't she just give him the alarm code too, and he could've just used it?" Cindy was asking. "Why bother defeating the alarm?"

"To make Frost's alibi of him more valid." I said. "The methods of defeating the alarm led us to Spratt... and then he had an alibi. I think we've had previous cases like that. Like Tantalus in Hades... we are led almost to the mountaintop, only to be disappointed. But that didn't work either. Too many people with Crowbars around here, figuring them out."

Cindy thought a moment, then said: "There's one more thing. The bugs in Diane and Lita's homes. We've found bugs in three more of Frost's parolee's homes, also. Those things are not cheap, and you don't just buy them off the street, as you well know."

"Yes." I said simply.

"So I was wondering where Frost and even Carter could have gotten those devices." Cindy said. "Do we have a mole somewhere? Or maybe the Sheriff Department?"

"I doubt that County Law Enforcement was the source of those bugs." I said. "Now who does have the resources to obtain those, and would have an interest in Frost and Carter planting them in parolee's homes?"

Cindy's eyes lit up, and she nodded.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The TCPD's SWAT Teams, followed by other heavily armed and armored police officers, swarmed a warehouse on the West side of Town, just south of Ward Harvester and other industrial concerns. It was a building owned by one Thomas P. Cook and rented to a consortium of 'merchandise distributors', but really a fencing operation run by 'The Teacher' from the Tenderloin District.

The TCPD took out a big-time six-man fencing ring and recovered the loot from sixteen recent burglaries, including Mr. Myers's paintings and all but three of his guns. Other guns and valuables, such as silver, were recovered. But the cash was gone... as was the set of old books on the Trojan War.

Of course 'The Teacher' would never be implicated, but I suspected he would not be very appreciative of my actions.

And neither was the Town & County Council. While taking out the fencing ring looked good for the Police Department, the revelations of Sarah Carter and Ryan Frost being implicated in sex abuse of parolees meant that more women were coming out of the woodwork... and so were wily, money-hungry, 'ambulance-chasing' lawyers, eager to file lawsuits against the County for the actions of the parole officers. The Council would have to fight the lawsuits, costing money. 

Politicians, I thought bitterly to myself. The bastards don't give a shit about stopping crime; they only care about their worthless reputations and getting re-elected...

Part 15 - Single Malt Scotch 

I was on the back deck of The Cabin, watching the beautiful sunset and waiting for the news of the raid to happen, which wouldn't be for another hour. I heard the crunch of gravel; a car was coming up. I suspected who it might be, and I was ready.

Indeed, it was Chief Bennett who came around on the walkway. As he came up to me, he extended an object in a brown paper bag.

"Peace offering." he said. I pulled out the bottle of 18-year-old Highland Park single malt Scotch.

"Accepted." I said. "Have a seat." As Bennett sat in a chair to my right, I took the two glasses on table between us, which I'd brought out in preparation of this expected event, and poured two most very healthy shots of the aromatic liquid into them.

"Salud." I said. We clinked glasses. I pretended to drink until I saw that he really was drinking his shot, then I downed mine. I poured two more.

"I guess you regret steering me into the Chief's chair, eh?" he said.

"Not at all." I said. "I sure as hell didn't want it, and you're a good cop and better administrator. And you're not perfect, as none of us are. Lord knows I'm not."

"Well," said Bennett, "I guess I have fucked things up, huh?"

"Nah, not really." I said, watching the sunset as he was. "You just learned something. Mostly to not listen to that piece of dog shit Robert Brownlee."

"True, true." said Bennett. "And thank God the Sheriff doesn't have a crowbar. It hurt bad enough as it was." I smiled and drank. This was one of my favorite brands of Scotch.

"Well, Commander," said Bennett, "you're right, as always. I believed Brownlee. And it's because I wanted to... especially about Captain Ross."

"If you want peace between us, Chief," I said, "I need to know what you have against her, and why."

"It's a long story." said Bennett.

"It's a full bottle of Scotch, and plenty of time to drink it." I replied. Bennett chuckled briefly, then got serious.

"I would imagine you already have figured a lot of it out." said Bennett. "So I'll lay my cards on the table, and we'll go from there. I'm a religious man, not some fanatic like Ikea, but I believe in Jesus and the Bible. And when Ross was hired onto the Force, there were rumors that she was a... homosexual."

He continued: "Maybe I was looking for faults, but I always found her to be too reticent, not putting herself out there as most Detectives do. She did her job, but seemed to try to not be noticed. At the time, Captain Malone ruled Vice, and that fanatic Ikea was throwing his weight around. Croyle was definitely earning her name 'Teresa Cunt', and MCD was an even worse wreck. Everyone thought Croyle and Ross hated each other, too."

"Appearances can be deceiving." I said. Bennett nodded, then went on:

"Perlman was pretty good at crime scenes, and Malone was wary of her, but Griswold shielded her. And Ross, too. But that wasn't the only problem. After the merger, the arrangement between Detectives and Officers didn't go over too well. For example, I'd been a Patrol Officer for years, put in my time on the streets. Made Sergeant, then the merger happened, and to save my job I went into Administration. I was told it'd be good for my career, and I did make Lieutenant. And I guess it did help me get the Chief job."

"Yes, it did." I said.

"Anyway," said Bennett, "I didn't have a whole lot of respect for the Detectives, and especially Ross. A lot of other uniformed officers don't like it that the Detectives get where they are right out of the Academy, just as some senior military enlisted don't like 22-year-old boys outranking them as Lieutenants. You know that deal." I nodded.

"And then Griswold hired you, and oh my God how the shit hit the fan." intoned Bennett. "Everyone knew you were different, and when you beat the living shit out of Molotov, there were a lot of amazed people in the Force... and a lot of scared ones, too. And I guess you knew Ross was related to you, because almost from minute one you were bringing her along with you... even though she tried to hide herself from you."

"No, I didn't know for some time that she was related to me." I said. "I just saw in her what you didn't want to... competence, regardless of her orientation."

"Some people thought, and still do think, that you're no friend of the homosexuals." Bennett said, peering at me. I made sure to let nothing in my face nor eyes give anything away.

"I believe in the smallest minority of all." I said. "The Individual."

"Anyway," he said, failing to read me, "I've just never had much for Ross, regardless of who she is fucking. And I still am not sure she can handle the job you put her in, especially when you're gone. But I worked out a deal with the Sheriff, which I'll make with you too, if you'll accept it: I'll let you run the Force, your way, and I'll handle the public relations and the administration, and the Sheriff and the Council, and I'll keep Brownlee out of your way, and hopefully out of trouble. You run those boring meetings, catch the perps, train the Detectives and Officers, keep me informed so I don't get ambushed by the God-damned Press, and I'll make sure you have what you need to clean this County up. Deal?"

"I see you've done a wise thing: in the end, you listened to Chief Griswold instead of that idiot Deputy Chief Brownlee. Very wise." I said. "You have a deal... Chief." I shook Bennett's hand.

"Nothing gets by you. Yes, Griswold gave me some rather straightforward advice." said Bennett. "Well, I better get home. Don't drink too much of that stuff in one sitting, you've got a raid to monitor."

"See you tomorrow morning, Chief." I said. Bennett left. I looked out over the Town as darkness began to rule the night. I could see the tiny, bright light of a train coming out of the western horizon.

Since the day Karen Warner Harlan had surprised me in the University Coach's office, I'd always made sure my back was covered. Tonight, my mother had been inside The Cabin, watching over me. She now came out onto the deck.

"Cindy is a brilliant and extremely capable young lady." said Phyllis as she sat down beside me on the metal mesh love seat, pressing her hip into mine. "I don't understand why Chief Bennett doesn't see that."

"He wasn't all wrong." I said. "Cindy kept her orientation a secret for a long time. She tried not to do too much and let herself get noticed, and then have her secret come out. And it worked... until I came along. I had to let her know I was aware of her orientation when I asked her to check with contacts in her world about something. But once she realized I knew and that the world had not come to an end, she began letting go of her fear. You weren't here yet, in those earliest days. But since you came here, I suspect Cousin Cindy's work with my favorite Auxiliary Policewoman helped a lot, too."

"Oh, it has." my mother said. "But that's the one thing you do so much better than me. Like Sherlock over Mycroft: you take action. Oh, I can see things as well as you and understand them, maybe better since I'm older and have the experience of being an Apple Grove housewife..." I laughed out loud at that one as she continued, "... but you know what to do about the things you see. You fix things. You find the solutions. I thought you'd made a mistake about that Chief Bennett, but now I see you might be right about him."

"We'll see." I said. "Anyway, at least I don't come up with hair-brained schemes like you and Cindy do." I was teasing my mother, and got slapped on the thigh for it.

"My dear son!..." my mother exclaimed. "Who let himself get kidnapped just to bring down Henry Wargrave? And who--"

"Okay, Mom, I get the drift." I said. "Here, have some Scotch..."

Part 16 - Epilogue 

It had happened too fast. He'd not been warned; he'd had no time to warn The Teacher nor anyone else, and the Iron Crowbar's officers had raided and taken out the fencing ring so carefully and painstakingly established.

And on top of that, Sergeant Sharples, now known as the 'Fat Boy' around Police Headquarters, was actually making some progress on the child trafficking case... getting too close for the comfort of too many too-important people.

And then there was the meeting between one of his lieutenants in his organization, meeting with one of Gresham & Mason's most powerful attorneys. "The Iron Crowbar has directly told two of my lawyers that he is aware we are working with your boss." the legal eagle had said. "I don't know if that bastard is bluffing or not, but my people are becoming concerned. This fucking little local cop has been showing up too close to us, and way too often. Something needs to be done."

He poured himself a sherry and drank, enjoying the aroma as well as the flavor of the rare and expensive brand. After draining the glass, he thought about his plan to distract his nemesis, the Iron Crowbar and gain revenge upon him. It was beginning to get... serious.

He was tired, he realized. He'd solve these problems tomorrow, the day before the July 4th race. He allowed himself a bit more sherry, barely covering the bottom of the glass. Choosing not to disturb the woman sleeping in his bed, he took that glass up to the second bedroom, as well as a book... one volume of a very rare set about the Trojan War, purloined by his agent Ryan Frost from the home of that damned professor who'd refused to sell the books at any price.

Crime does pay, and handsomely, he thought to himself as he opened the tome and began to read...

Finis.