Hot Wives Investment Club Ch. 02

"I am not going to ask where you got that device." said the Chief as I slowly opened the door to the safe. "Just stay on the side of Law and Order, would you?"

"No worries, Chief." I said as I began bringing out the contents of the safe. Inside were a number of papers pertaining to his company, some CD certificates, some cash and jewelry... and more DVDs. I had the DVDs bagged as evidence under an 'Eyes Only' seal...

... and then I found a manila envelope. Pulling out the contents, I saw the photographs of Trish Donolan being deeply fucked by 'Black Magic'. They were some of the pictures Teresa and Grubby Paul had taken. I called over Lt. Croyle, who came forward and said simply "What?"

"Lieutenant," I said quietly, showing her the pics, "it looks like we have a huge leak in our computer systems." Teresa's eyes widened as I called out "Ross!" Cindy came up. "Ross, contact Myron Milton and Mary Mahoney. Right now. Get their asses into Headquarters. We're searching for a breach of our computer systems. Croyle will give you the details of the file and the photographs that have been breached."

I went up to Donolan. "Sure you don't want to tell me where you got these?" I asked, showing him the pics.

"He's invoked, Commander." said his lawyer. "Like you said, he can't talk anymore, even if he wants to."

"Too bad." I said. "These pictures in his possession are damning, and perhaps if he'd not invoked until he gave a reasonable explanation for them, there'd be no problem... but now I'm required to arrest Mr. Donolan. Sergeant Thompson, arrest Donolan, book him and process him-"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, just a darn minute!" the lawyer said. Chief Griswold was walking up, also.

"What's going on, Crowbar?" asked the Chief.

"Sir, Mr. Donolan is in possession of photographs taken by our Vice Squad during a drug surveillance operation." I said. "Photographs that involve his wife in flagrante delicto with one of the drug suspects from that operation." I showed the Chief the photographs. He confirmed with Lt. Croyle that they were indeed the same photographs.

"The Commander is right, counselor." Griswold said. "Your client is in a world of shit right now."

"Look, guys," the lawyer was saying, "you're talking about the CEO of a big company, here. He gets arrested, and the Media are going to have a field day. You know how they are. They'll lie, they'll tell stories that have no basis in fact, they'll drag Mr. Donolan's name through the mud just because they enjoy it. There's got to be something we can do, something we can work out."

The Chief pulled me into the hallway outside the study. "He has a point, Crowbar." he said. "This isn't some pimp from the Tenderloin District. If he's guilty, then I'd be the first to bury him, but if he's not, he's the kind whose reputation the Media will leave in shreds with no apology, no retractions, no follow-ups to tell the truth when we get it."

"I agree. What do you want to do, Chief?" I asked.

"It's your decision. Welcome to Command." said the Chief. "And so you know, I'm not just passing the buck to you, here. This'll be going on for months, and the fallout will come onto you. I'll back you up, whatever you decide. Also, for all we know he may be innocent and these pictures have another explanation-"

"Oh! Of course!" I gasped out at the Chief's last sentence. "Oh, sorry, sir, didn't mean to interrupt. I just realized something."

"What?" asked the Chief as I tried to think.

"Give me five minutes, please." I said. The Chief left me alone and went to talk to Croyle and Ross.

Five minutes later, I returned to the study and went to the Chief.

"We should process him, just to get fresh fingerprints on file and get DNA." I said. "But he won't get bail: any judge would release a public figure like him to his lawyer's custody and on his on recognizance. So we don't have to formally charge him just yet. But what I can't see is how to stop him from fleeing, should he choose to do so."

"Leave that to me." said the Chief. "And it looks like I get to teach Kid Crowbar something, after all." I had no problems learning from the Chief's wealth of experience as I followed him to talk to the troubled widower and his exhausted legal beagle.

---

Moments later, I was asked by Lt. Ross to come back to the master bedroom. When I got there, she led me into the little sitting room that was next to the bedroom. It was Trish's little office study, as Melina had used her sitting room as her study when we lived in Midtown, in the house that Cindy's sister Molly now lived in.

"It's right behind this air vent." said Cindy. What looked like an A/C or heating vent in the back wall was actually a little door on a hinge. Behind it, embedded in the wall, was a small safe. Donovan Donolan, who had come up with his lawyer, gasped at the sight of it.

"Didn't know your wife had a safe here, Mr. Donolan?" I asked as I prepared my equipment to open the safe.

Donovan only shook his head as I took the next 30 seconds opening the safe. Inside were more papers and DVDs.

"Let's bag these separately from the others, Ross." I said. "DVDs under my personal seal."

Part 6 - Suspects and Clues

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" blared the lovely reporterette into the television sets of the region at 7:00am on October 31st. "We're bringing you live coverage of the murder of Trish Donolan, wife of wealthy BigPharmaCorp CEO Donovan Donolan. Police have not released details of the murder, but Channel Two News has confirmed that she was murdered at the River Valley Country Club during a meeting of the County Wives Investment Club." Bettina went on to describe the course of events that night, just a bit too accurately for my liking.

Bettina continued: "Wealthy CEO Donovan Donolan is at Police Headquarters now, cooperating with Police in the investigation of his wife's death. Channel Two News has confirmed that the Donolan home was searched last night. Police Chief Griswold issued a statement saying that their investigation is routine procedure, and that he expects Mr. Donolan to be able to return home soon."

----

Having gulped down my coffee, I went with Detectives Nash and Torres to Lightsource Industries, where Trish Donolan worked. I need not say that the company CEO, Mr. Turner Rogers, was devastated to see us for the second time in under a month.

"I can't believe it." he said to me and Nash, as Torres led a team of police officers in interviewing Trish's co-workers. "Lang and Blair, and now Trish Donolan. I feel like a curse has descended upon me."

"I am sorry for your losses, sir," I said, "and I appreciate your cooperation. Can you tell me what Trish Donolan did with your company?"

"Yes, but I need to be very careful in my wording, and I'm sure you'll understand why." said Mr. Rogers. "Mrs. Donolan was officially the Associate Director of Marketing. But what she really was... was the unofficial Social Director. She was the one that arranged social events for our clients, parties around here for the employees, birthday parties and such. She arranged for our clients to be kept happy- oh, I don't mean that the way it sounded. I meant..." Rogers did not finish the sentence, his face red from blushing.

"I understand, Mr. Rogers." I said. "So she was the Social coordinator of sorts. Do you know, sir, of anyone that might have reason to harm her?"

"No, not at all." replied Rogers. "She was popular with her co-workers, to the best of my knowledge. I know she was upset about Diane Lang and Larry and Blair, but so was everyone else."

"Martin," I said, "Why don't you go help Detective Torres finish up the interviews with the employees. I'll finish up with Mr. Rogers, here."

"Uhh..." Nash said, then caught himself, getting the hint. "Yes sir." He got up and left.

"Mr. Rogers," I said, once we were alone, "I want to ask you about the industrial espionage situation. Just you and me, badges off, no record of this conversation being written down."

"I do want to thank you for alerting me to that." said Rogers. "I hired the team of private investigators you suggested, instead of those from Acme Private Investigations. The guys I hired found that there was not only one but two leaks. One was Blair, who didn't have proper authority but managed to access our research data; and the other, we haven't conclusively determined yet. It could've been Larry Lang, but my investigators' I.T. technicians said that sophisticated programs were used to avoid detection and corrupt the IP addresses and metadata of whoever did access that information."

"I see." I said, using that phrase all too frequently. "Mr. Rogers, I am not expecting you to show me the schematics or the technical papers, but it would help if I knew what cutting edge research you're doing that has industrial spies so interested in your work. Please, tell me what you can."

Mr. Rogers grimaced, then said "I'll just tell you this much, but no more. We accidentally discovered a laser process that, if harnessed, could speed up computer processing to a trillion instructions per second... yes..." He had seen the look of shock on my face.

"We're secretly working with Mr. Oliver of BOW Enterprises." Rogers continued. "He secured patents on a nano-etching procedure before we were able to move on it... no, he didn't steal it, he applied for the patent before we even found a similar process ourselves. Anyway, between his work and our own, we're trying to flesh out what we can make work and then be practical. I need not say what this would do to the super-computing industry, nor the billions of dollars it would be worth."

"No sir, I totally get that picture." I said. "And I think you understand that these may be secrets worth dying... and killing for. I'll keep quiet about that, of course, but if I come across anything leading to the killer of Trish Donolan, I'm going to have to pursue it."

"I understand, son." said Mr. Rogers. "And I'm in your debt already for your brilliant work in solving the Lang murder, as well as alerting me to the espionage attempts."

I took my leave of Mr. Rogers and went to find my Detectives. I was not totally surprised to learn that nothing of consequence came of the interviews of Trish Donolan's co-workers.

----

At 11:00am, Oct. 31st, Teresa Croyle and I were shown into the office of Sean Bailey at Crown Chemicals. He was in charge of their sales and marketing department. He was a handsome man in his late 30s, with brown, almost blondish hair. He looked at me a bit warily as he asked me to sit down.

"Mr. Bailey," I said, "We're investigating the death of Trish Donolan last night."

"I heard about that on the radio." said Bailey. "I don't know how I can help you, though."

"You can help tremendously by telling me where you were between 8:30 and 8:45 last night." I replied, keeping my face emotionless and even as I looked at him.

"Oh... I see." Bailey said. "At this point, I'd like to ask the company lawyer to attend this conversation."

"By all means." I said. "Do you have a conference room where we can talk? Maybe give us a bit more room?"

Once the lawyer arrived in the conference room with us, Bailey opened up the conversation. "To answer your previous question, Commander, I was at a dinner with clients last night at The Steakhouse. We were there until 9:00pm." The Steakhouse was not very close to the River Valley Clubhouse, I thought as I asked Bailey for the names of people we could contact to verify his alibi. He gave them readily, one of them being the CEO of Crown Chemicals.

"Commander," said the lawyer, "may I ask why you're interviewing Mr. Bailey about this unfortunate tragedy?"

"Certainly, Counselor." I said. "I am well aware that a year and a half ago, give or take, Mr. Bailey's wife Margo died of a drug overdose. I also am aware that two women left Mrs. Bailey in the hands of the drug pushers: Trish Donolan and Catherine Clausen. Mrs. Donolan was brutally murdered last night."

Bailey visibly started, his face a mask of shock, as I continued: "I need to know the full story of what happened after Mrs. Bailey's death. I need to know why you, Mr. Bailey, left the employment of BigPharmaCorp so soon after your wife's passing, and what your relations with both Mr. and Mrs. Donolan were at that time."

Bailey looked at his lawyer, who whispered something to him. Bailey finally said "Okay, here's the story: after Margo died, I knew that Donolan's wife had taken my wife down to the clubs where their friends the drug pushers were. I did some investigating, and found that Trish Donolan and some of the black drug people were tight, that she'd often bring other women to their clubs so that they, the pimps, could get the women hooked. Margo had really struggled to get clean..." he paused.

"I understand how you feel, Mr. Bailey." Teresa piped up. "I was the Detective investigating your wife's death, and I know what she went through. If you can tell us everything, maybe we'll get some more Justice for your wife."

"Well," said Sean Bailey, "this won't sound good for me, but after I got the full picture of what happened, I confronted Donovan Donolan about his wife's involvement in my wife's death. He literally laughed in my face and said that my wife was just a cheap whore and a drug addict, and that his wife had nothing to do with it. Of course I resigned from BigPharmaCorp on the spot, and I came here to Crown pretty quickly afterwards."

"Did you ever have contact with either of the Donolans after that?" I asked.

"Yes, sir." Bailey said. "I had to sue him. I've looked for jobs out of the State, off and on, but I haven't been offered anything I want to take. I found out that Donolan was working to smear my name with them, and with others. I hired a law firm, and they got that stopped."

"Okay, Mr. Bailey, thank you for your cooperation." I said. "I do need you to stay inside the County for the next few days. Also, counselor, I need to interview your CEO."

"Before you go," said Sean Bailey. "Did you police ever figure out who raped my wife before she died?"

"Yes sir." I said. "There were multiple men, but I know who one of them, the ringleader, was. Do you remember the guy last summer who kidnapped that baby, then was shot dead at Ward Harvester and the baby recovered?"

"Yes sir... it was him?"

"Yes." I said as I went through the doorway. "And that son of a bitch will not be raping any woman, ever again."

"Thank you." said Bailey. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Not as much as I am." I whispered to Teresa as we started down the hall. She nodded in strong agreement.

"And I totally agree with your evaluation of your nephew as a 'son of a bitch'." Teresa said. I nodded in strong agreement.

----

The lawyer took us to the office of the CEO, Mr. Knightley. He was a model of a CEO, in his late 50s or early 60s, head full of salt-and-pepper hair, looking vigorous and healthy. I noticed that his administrative assistant was a hot blonde with 'decidedly' large breasts (i.e. she 'decided' to make them that way).

"What can I do for you?" asked Knightley.

"Sir, your wife Joan is a member of the Investment Club and was present when Mrs. Trish Donolan was killed." I said. "So while I'm here, I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone and ask you the necessary but routine questions."

"By all means." Knightley said, only the faintest inflection of a British or Australian accent in his voice.

"I understand that your wife works for Dr. Bonnie Karpathian, who is an associate of my wife at the University, is that not correct?"

"That is true... oh, by the way, has your wife recovered from her surgery? Joan was talking about Dr. Fredricson just the other day."

"She's doing quite well, thank you." I said. "So, how well did you and your wife know the Donolans?" I asked.

"Not well at all." Knightley said. "My wife knew Mrs. Donolan through the Investment Club, and that was their only connection. Joan didn't particularly like Trish Donolan and Cat Clausen. She said they were a couple of mean bitches."

"So I've heard." I said. "So where were you while your wife was at the Investment Club meeting?"

"I was at the same dinner with clients that Mr. Bailey was." said Knightley. "He'd done the groundwork, and had me come in for the coup de grace at the dinner."

"Successfully?" I asked.

"I think we're going to get an order from them, yes." Knightley said.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Knightley." I said. Teresa and I took our leave.

"So, Croyle," I said, "what did you think of that?"

"The first thing that struck me was why Mr. Bailey was and maybe still is looking for jobs, when he has a pretty good one at Crown Chemicals." Teresa said.

"To get away from the Donolans, to get away from where his wife died, would be my guess." I said.

"In any case, Mr. Bailey still holds grudges." Teresa said. "However, I don't know if he's capable of killing, and he's certainly had ample time to murder either of the Donolans if he was going to do so. It'd be strange for him to wait this amount of time, then kill Trish Donolan this way. Unless again, he finds a new job out of town, comes back and kills one or both of the Donolans, then scoots out of town."

"Good points." I said. "He sure has waited a long time... unless something new came up that tore open the old wound, and caused Bailey to act. I can also see that Mr. Donolan is as mean-spirited as his wife. Whatta couple, eh wot?"

Teresa did not reply. Her face was set in stone, and I could not deduce her feelings at the moment.

"How about I take you to lunch, Teresa." I said. "I'm starving."

"If you're buying, it's a date." she replied.

Part 7 - Loose Ends

At 1:00pm I went into the Main Conference room to attend a very happy meeting. The six people I'd 'invited' (meaning ordered) to attend were already there: Sergeant Damien Thompson, Patrolman Ronald 'Ronnie' Kirkpatrick, Sr. Patrolman Micah Rudistan, Detective Claire Michaels, Lieutenant Susan Weston, and Deputy Sheriff (Lt.) Holsom 'Hal' Briggs.

Chief Griswold also attended, a smile under his mustaches as he 'invited' me to run the meeting.

"Okay guys," I said. "I'll start with you, Rudistan. On November 1st, you will report to duty with your uniform looking sharp and setting the example, as is expected of the Town & County Police Sergeant you will be on that day."

"Oh man!" said Rudistan as the others clapped for him.

"Kirkpatrick," I said, "that goes for you, too. You're going to be the first Corporal in this Department since Pete Feeley died, and I expect you to continue this very rare honor and legacy with distinction."

"Yes sir, I will." said Kirkpatrick. I could see my words had the desired effect. Kirkpatrick was an outstanding young officer, and would make a great leader. We'd talked to him about the Detective track, but he wanted to carry on family traditions of Uniformed Officer service. And to be the first to follow Feeley as a Corporal was significant in this Police Force.

"Detective Michaels," I said, "We were going to wait until February, but it's a Commander's privilege to change his mind: you will be promoted to Lieutenant on November 1st, and you'll take command of our SWAT Teams at that time."

"Sergeant Thompson," I said, "you also will be promoted to Lieutenant, but for a different reason, which I'm about to explain. Deputy Briggs, you'll be trading in that gold Lieutenant bar for a silver one when you report back to the Town & County Police on Friday. We talked earlier, so I know you have your new uniform ready to go."

"Yes sir, I do." Briggs said laconically, typical of his easygoing, laid back nature.

"Lieutenant Weston," I said, "I'm sorry, but you're not getting jack for a promotion tomorrow." Everyone groaned sympathetically, then I said "Of course, that Police Commendation Medal is going to look good on your uniform. I brought you here to discuss something else. Okaaaay... Kirkpatrick, Rudistan, and Michaels, you have the rest of the day off to get your uniforms ready. I'll have your badges and ranks Friday. The rest of you, please stay here."