Case of the Paper Trail Ch. 01

"Have a nice day, Commander." the young widow Harlan said, her voice conveying her understanding, even though her hatred of me remained unappeasable.

"Again, my condolences." I replied, then left the house. Teresa followed me outside.

"I thought you hated that bastard." Teresa said quietly. "And she's a real bitch. Makes me look like the Good Humor Woman. So why are you letting it go?"

"He's dead, beyond my reach now." I said. "And I really don't want to waste our time. I don't know what that M.E.'s problem is."

"Trying to look good in front of the new Coroner coming in January 1st." Teresa suggested. "He's new himself, he's trying to make a name for himself, perhaps?"

"He'll find himself in a lot of hot water in the court of public opinion." I said. "A lot of people in this Town loved the Coach; they don't know what we know about his bad side. Okay, Teresa, you do what you feel is right. If the questioning is not vigorous, I'll perfectly understand."

"I've got it taken care of." Teresa said. And I knew that she would indeed handle it properly.

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

Laura and I took our seats in the University President's box at the Stadium. She was among the invited guests of Dr. Sidney P. Wellman, and of course she brought her husband (me) along. It was a somber chamber as we watched the pre-game activities.

"Has someone told the team? Or are they going to before the game?" Laura asked Dr. Wellman.

"We had a real back-and-forth about that." said the University President. "Some thought it would inspire the players to play harder, and some thought it'd distract them and that we should wait until the end of the game. But Coach Bronson ended the discussion by telling us his plans. And we're going to announce it on the P.A. system, so they'll know before they come out of the locker room.

Among Coach Bronson's plans: instead of their normal royal blue jerseys, the Bulldogs came out in simple black jerseys, adorned only with their numbers in contrasting white, and a patch with the initials 'CBH' on the shirts as well as their helmets. I could see the emotion in many of the players' faces. Just before the national anthem, the fans were asked to "please observe a moment of silence for Coach Brian Harlan, who passed away earlier this morning."

My moment of silence was thinking of Derrick Belle, whom Brian Harlan had murdered in cold blood; but more for Officer Pete Feeley, who had been murdered by Coach Harlan's cousin, aided with an alibi from him. Harlan was getting his just due now, I thought to myself. Just by a higher Judge and Jury than the ones here on Earth. And it would only be right and just if the temperature of his new location was a lot hotter than that of The Cabin when it burned...

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

The University 'Bulldogs' led the State Tech 'Engineers', whose logo was an old train locomotive, 24-14 in the 4th quarter. Nick Eastwood was leading his team down the field. As he went back to pass, a Tech defensive lineman fought off a block and came in to hit Eastwood. He intentionally aimed his helmet to hit Eastwood in the back left of the helmet, and he left his feet as he launched himself to make the hit, obviously intending to harm Nick Eastwood.

Eastwood crumpled to the ground as the Tech player's helmet hit his with a noise loud enough for me to hear. As the teams scrambled for the dropped football several yards away, a yellow flag came to the ground right were Eastwood lay motionless.

The State Tech player was ejected for targeting, but that would not help Eastwood, who lay motionless on the ground. The State Tech fans were loudly cheering and jeering at Eastwood as he lay on the ground, but the rest of the stadium was stunned and silent, watching as the trainers tended to the injured star player. Long minutes later, a cart came out to transport Nick off the field. His neck was strapped down, and it was obviously a serious head or neck injury that might have left him paralyzed.

Just as he was leaving the field, Nick raised his hand slightly and gave a thumbs-up, getting a roar from the home crowd. The enemy State Tech fans scowled with disappointment that Eastwood was not paralyzed. In the president's booth, Laura gasped with relief as Dr. Wellman began clapping, then said to me "Hell, Wildcat fans don't cheer when a man gets hurt like that. I've never seen anything more disgusting than those State Tech assholes." I totally agreed.

As Nick was loaded onto the ambulance, Laura was up and leaving, calling University Hospital and telling them to get ready for Eastwood, and that she'd be going there. I called in to Sergeant Rudistan, who assured me that they had clear path to get the injured player to the hospital.

The rest of the game was a near-fight on every play. University offensive linemen were going for the knees of Tech defensive players, trying to hurt them in retaliation for their quarterback being hurt in what they thought was a deliberate shot. Two brawls erupted with closed fist punches being thrown, and players from both sides being ejected. Frustrations for bad seasons were released, as well.

Finally, the enraged Bulldogs plowed through for another touchdown, and the final score was 31-14. Unlike other games, the players from both teams did very little shaking hands and talking to each other. University Coach Bronson screamed at the State Tech coach about the "deliberate dirty hit" on Eastwood, and State Troopers, TCPD and University Police were deployed to get coaches and players into their locker rooms and keep further damage from occurring.

Bronson's after-game press conference was one of verbal attacks on State Tech's coach, saying the shot on Eastwood was deliberate with intent to cause injury, and that the State Tech coach seemed as happy about it as the State Tech fans were. The State Tech coach didn't apologize for his player nor the hit, saying it was 'legitimate', and that Coach Bronson was a 'panty-wearing wussy' coach. The Conference was not going to be extending Christmas invitations for those coaches to spend time together, and I suspected the ramifications of this day were not yet over...

Part 3 - The Biller Crime Scene

Monday, December 1st. At 6:00am sharp, MCD Detective Joanne Cummings came in and put her things on the desk assigned to her. Vice Detective Lorena Rose did the same in the Vice Room. The Detective Swap was made, and I expected it would greatly improve my Forces.

I was asked by everyone as they came in how Nick Eastwood was doing, as my wife had been at the hospital all weekend, staying out of the way of the trauma doctors but helping the family and getting news reports, which she relayed to me. She did say she would be testing his sexual function at the appropriate time, but I did not relay that part to my officers.

At 7:00am, everyone in both units were in MCD, watching the television and waiting for news. Candor compels me to admit that I might have been her secret source for the information about to be reported. And on the television screen came the one and only Bettina!

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the lovely redhead reporterette from outside University Hospital. "Channel Two News has learned that Nick Eastwood is recovering from his neck injury that doctors feared had left him paralyzed! While Nick has two cracked vertebrae in his neck, he has regained full movement in all of his extremities! He will undergo surgery to repair and strengthen his neck when the swelling goes down."

As everyone sighed in relief, Bettina continued "Doctors believe that Nick will make a full recovery and regain full health, but they've also said that his football playing career is over, and that he will not get the chance to play in the National Football League, lest another hit paralyze him or even kill him. The University had bought an insurance policy for Nick, which is legal under NCAA rules, and it will pay him between five and ten million dollars.

"Still, everyone in the University family is saddened for this ending of his pro football career before it had even begun, and there is deep anger at State Tech and the player who caused the injury in what appears to be a deliberate attempt to injure him. The Conference as well as the SBI are looking into the matter, and the SBI has even given voice to consideration that this hit was an intentional and therefore criminal assault which could bring criminal charges against the player. State Tech hotly denies it was a criminal act, and warns that an attempt to bring charges will bring what they call 'ugly' consequences to college football. This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News..."

At 8:00am we had to stop talking about the football game and the ramifications of the hit on Nick Eastwood. A call had come in about a missing woman.

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

"Commander, how about this be the case you let us solve?" asked Lt. Tanya Perlman at the crime scene.

"Well, let me take a brief look, but I think this can be the one." I said.

Allow me to explain: I generally keep my nose out of Vice, except to give the 'Go' order on their drug raids. However, the MCD unit, and especially its leader, Lt. Tanya Perlman, had wanted to try to solve a case without my involvement or guidance. I could understand their point: I often came in with observations and deductions that quickly and efficiently solved the problems, and that if anything ever happened to me, they needed to have the experience and skills to solve crimes themselves.

I had told Tanya that if a suitable case came up, I'd let them have at it. I told her that I would look at it to make sure they didn't miss something and a perp didn't get away, but that I'd stick to the background and not guide them unless they made a mistake or were stumped and I was not. She would have full access to Myron and Goth Girl Mary, and while they would tell me whatever they told Tanya, I would not ask them to gather data on anything; instead I'd have to do that myself (which, of course, I could do).

As part of all this, I warned Tanya not to withhold anything from me while the MCD solved the case, and that if I knew who it was and needed to take steps to keep the perp(s) from getting away, destroying evidence, or otherwise causing a problem, I'd step in where and when needed. I also said that I might take either Myron or Mary away if I needed help.

With that in mind: We were at the home of a middle-aged couple in one of the better areas to the north of Town. The house was not particularly large, and the main room was the den. As I stood in the middle of the room, behind the leather love seat sofa, there was a door in front of me to the front portion of the house, the door to the kitchen to the back right of me. The television was mounted on the wall to the left of the doorway. To the right of the doorway was the husband's desk. To the front of the sofa was a table with a remote control on it, pointing to the upper left as one faced the TV. Behind the sofa, and to my back left, the wife's secretary desk was against the wall, and to her right was a bookcase that ran the length of the wall.

I had one of the officers photograph the remote control and pointed it out to Theo Washington as Tanya Perlman talked to the husband. His name was Harmon Biller, and he was a retired BigPharmaCorp engineer. 'Retired' might be too strong a term; he still frequently worked for them on a contract basis. I sat back and just listened in as he told his story, which I somewhat condense here:

Biller said: "Yesterday I had to go in to work because one of our processes failed, and we had to determine the reason as well as re-work the batch that had gone bad. When I got home, my wife Edna had left this note on my desk that she was visiting her friend Mrs. Charleen Davis, and that she might stay overnight there. I didn't think much of it, and about 9:30pm, maybe a little after, I got this text message that she was staying at her friend's house. However, when I tried to call her this morning, she did not answer the phone, and has not answered every time I tried since. I called the Davis house, and Mr. Bill Davis said that neither his wife nor mine were there, and had not been there all night. He'd called the police himself about his wife being missing last night, and has heard nothing. Then I called the police, and here you are."

Tanya said to me: "We checked with our patrols, and they were on the lookout for Mrs. Davis and her car all night, but never saw anything. The hospitals and the morgue have not gotten anyone in that resembles the two women's descriptions. Mrs. Biller's car is missing. Mr. Biller has a very old pickup truck with a camper-top on it. It's empty."

Tanya got to work, and I was happy to see her delegating. "Okay... Theo, Mr. Detective School graduate, you are the primary on this. Parker, you're working with Theo, and I'm going to be working with Joanne Cummings backing you two up, giving her some training at the same time."

Tanya broke into a happy smile as she continued: "The Commander has given us this one without his help, so bring everything you find to me instead of him, which you should do anyway, but this time especially do so. Let's get this done and make ourselves look good guys; this is our chance to show the Iron Crowbar we can get the job done!" Everyone was enthusiastic at the chance to solve the case without me, I noted. Good, I thought. I'd be disappointed if they didn't like such a challenge.

After Theo Washington and Teddy Parker looked at the note on Biller's desk, I went over and examined it. The note said simply 'Charleen and I are going for dinner and I might not be back until morning. Edna." I held the paper, which was stiff and strong and a pinkish-yellow color, to the light, observing the watermark, which said 'Konigsburg Gesellschaft'. I didn't think this stuff was in the local 'Staples', but would check to see.

I noted that the pen had pressed into the paper as if it were on top of a full stationary deck, instead of the hard desk directly under the sheet. The desk itself showed no writing indentations, and was clean. I looked around the desk, seeing only a couple of other sheets of that same paper, and those had some engineering comments and calculations on them, but no full sheaf of paper of that kind.

I then watched as Parker looked around Mrs. Biller's secretary desk. He found a sheaf of yellow stationary paper in a drawer, not quite like the pinkish edition the note was on, but close. The watermark was also different, showing an American company, and I knew this stationary was pretty common. I saw a few notes and the beginnings of a letter on the yellow stationary. The desk was clean, and there were no writing indentations in the wood of the secretary. There was an appointment calendar with Mrs. Biller's writing on it; the writing from the calendar as well as a couple of other notes matched the writing on the note, though the note's writing was a bit shakier, as if the writer had had some physical difficulties while trying to write the note.

The four Detectives and several uniformed officers also looked around the home, through the closets and drawers, all with the permission of Mr. Harmon Biller. The attic looked as if it had been recently cleaned of some things, but certainly there were no bodies hidden up there: our best cadaver dog, Sergeant Grover, did an excellent and thorough job sniffing through the whole house, and finding nothing.

I spent time petting Sergeant Grover while the Detectives worked, talking with his handler and giving him his favorite toy, a tennis ball, to play with. I love dogs, especially those of my K-9 Corps. I do not like people who hurt dogs, and while other police units around the nation were acquiring reputations of shooting family dogs, my Department knew that any cop who shot a dog that wasn't an absolute threat would be facing some potentially horrific 'feedback' from a dog-loving man that wielded a red crowbar. But I digress...

Going through the other rooms of the house, I felt like it was a bit sterile. The Billers did not have any children, but there still should be some photographs of activities of their lives, shouldn't there? I thought to myself. And this was echoed to my by Tanya as well as Joanne Cummings when they completed their walking tour.

There was nothing really strange found, except that the sharp-eyed Tanya Perlman looked at the carpet with some focus. I looked also, and saw what she was seeing: it looked as if something heavy might have been drug from the main room into the kitchen and to the garage. But the kitchen floor was clean; in fact, it had been mopped recently.

"You been moving any furniture recently?" Tanya asked Mr. Biller suddenly, hoping to get a reaction from him.

"Not really." said Biller. "I cleaned out some stuff from the attic and dragged some boxes of papers out, which I took to the County Dump." Tanya nodded, as this could explain the slight carpet indentations, as well as the recent work in the attic.

"Sir, what did you do last night, since your wife was not home?" Theo Washington asked Harmon.

"I went to the pizza place to eat, then went by the Senior Center to see if some of the boys were there and we could play cards. Didn't see any of 'em, though, so I came home. I'd forgotten my cell phone, so when I got home I saw the text." He handed Tanya his cell phone. The text had been delivered at 9:40pm and said 'I'll be staying with Charleen tonight. Edna.' Tanya made a note of the number from which the text had been sent.

Teddy Parker spoke up. "Mr. Biller, I have to ask you some questions that might seem personal or invasive. First, how were things between you and your wife? Any arguments or problems that might make her want to not be here last night?"

"No, things were fine." said Harmon.

"Did she stay at her friend's house very often?"

"Sometimes." Harmon replied. "Sometimes with other friends if she stayed out late. She and her friends liked to go out and drink, which I didn't let her do here. People shouldn't drink, it's bad for 'em."

"You didn't argue with your wife over her drinking?" Teddy asked, astutely pressing.

"Well, we didn't talk about it." Biller said. "She thought she was getting away with it and not telling me. I knew she was drinking but just didn't bring it up, since she would sober up before coming home and she didn't try to drink here."

The search of the house had revealed no alcohol, but Tanya Perlman made a brilliant move reflecting her Crime Lab experience: with Joanne Cummings in tow, she brought in a hair brush full of hair, sealed in an evidence bag. "Mr. Biller, is this your wife's hair brush?"

"Er, yeah." said Biller. "Why do you have that bagged up?"

"I believe that we can get a good DNA profile of your wife from it." said Tanya. "We've also taken her toothbrush, with your permission."

"You think she's not okay?" asked Biller, sounding, or trying to sound, concerned.

"We don't know." said Perlman. "But if we find an unknown person, alive or dead, this DNA match will help confirm or eliminate your wife as that person."

Just then Tanya's phone rang. She listened, ordered that a Crime Lab team to be brought in, then hung up.

"That was Martin Nash." Tanya said. "I sent him and Diana Torres to Charleen Davis's home. They've found some suspicious things there, and I'm headed over."

"I'll follow you." I said.

Part 4 - The Davis Crime Scene

Mr. Bill Davis was an older man, and it was obvious that he was not in full control of his faculties. He seemed confused at everything that as going on. Detective Diana Torres was sitting with him and talking to him, explaining what was going on, and asking questions as well.