The Medical Murder Mystery Ch. 02

"All right, you may continue with the meeting." said Sheriff Allgood.

"Myron, did you get cell phone records?" I asked. "And what is your information on the Cliffords?"

"We're still amassing phone records, and I don't yet have a consolidated report or any obvious connections or discrepancies." said Myron. "As to the Cliffords: John D. Clifford is 45 years old. His wife Darla is 38 years old. His undergraduate degree was in Accounting, of all things, and he worked at County Regional Bank as an auditor before taking a job with the IRS. Yes, the IRS. But he left that job a couple of years later and went back to school full time, to law school. It took him three years, and then more study later, but he became a J.D. at age 30."

"At that point, he became a specialist in medical malpractice, and he acquired a truly fearsome reputation. Doctors paled at his name, hospital staffs cringed at his name, and Insurance Companies despised him. He became known for not taking settlements, and for prosecuting doctors that committed malpractice to the limits of the law in the Courts. He didn't take a lot of the winnings, either, and he did not become overly wealthy at all."

Myron continued: "He was with Chase, Lynch & Berry for a couple of years, but left after what was termed a 'philosophical disagreement' with them and started his own practice. About five years ago, he applied to become a Law Professor, was hired by the University here, and he specializes in teaching malpractice law there, turning out lawyers after his own heart in pursuing medical and other malpractice cases. He's a good professor according to the reviews, he's popular with his students."

"Now, Darla Clifford." Myron said. "She is also a lawyer, but currently does not actively practice. She did have a job with BigPharmaCorp as a sales rep, then went to law school and apparently met John Clifford there. They were married when he was 32 and she was 25. They have no children. Any questions before I move on to Mr. Lockhart?"

"No tie-ins with the Searles at all?" Tanya asked. "Was she ever sued by him, or was her husband?"

"No," said Myron, "at least not that I've found so far. And I will say this: Dr. Richard Searles has been with the University for years. I can't conceive that the University would hire John D. Clifford if he'd sued either Searles before."

"Nice inference there, Myron." I said. "Keep looking, and be sure to check if Clifford ever sued any of Gloria's partners."

"What was the reason for the splitting with the law firm?" Daniel Allgood asked. "Anything there?"

"No sir, Sheriff." said Myron. "I just found the record from the Unemployment Office files. That was the reason given for his leaving, with no further explanation. That document said that Clifford resigned, also."

"If I may," I said, "I think we can make an educated guess on that. Clifford liked to pursue cases and not take settlements. Now lawyers, our own ADAs excepted of course, tend to not want to work hard; they'd prefer to settle and move on to the next billable case. I'm betting the firm and Clifford argued over his methods of pursuing justice for his clients."

"Maybe he was about to sue one of the partners of Dr. Searles medical practice." said Martin Nash. "Gloria wanted to talk to him about it, he of course didn't want to and pulled away from her. Her husband said something that none of the doctor's did: that Gloria was afraid one of the partners was doing badly and the practice might get sued. That would also explain why she didn't discuss it with her husband, either."

"It's a thought, and does not conflict with the data." I said. "Before we go interview the Cliffords... Myron, tell us about Lockhart."

"You'll just love him, Commander." Myron said. "He's on the fringe. Just within the last year, the IRS, State Tax Division, FDA and State Narcotics Task Force have begun comparing notes about his finances and pharmaceutical operations. Seemed his cash flow did not match his pharmaceutical purchases and sales. He's been audited three times in the last 14 months, but so far nothing has been found that they can really hit him with. The IRS has the best chance to get him and is still looking."

"His pharmacy serves low-end clientele, and by that I will politically incorrectly say the Tenderloin District and Southwestern Ghetto residents are his best clients. The doctors that write the prescriptions in his computers are mostly from bad areas of Town, and some are shady characters themselves. But again, they've been unable to solidly nail him as of yet."

"Any ideas yet, Iron Crowbar?" asked the new Sheriff in Town.

"Yes sir." I said. "I have the very good idea that Detective Nash and myself are going to go interview Dr. Clifford, while Lieutenant Perlman and Detective Torres are going to speak with Mrs. Clifford. Is my idea not correct, Lieutenant Perlman?"

"I have the distinct feeling that your ideas will become reality within the hour, Commander." replied Tanya with a grin.

Part 9 - Cliffords and Valleys

"Thank you for seeing us today." I said to John Clifford as we entered his office on the University Campus. Nash and I had Lt. Bill Hanson of the Campus Police with us as an observer. I introduced them as John Clifford asked us to sit down.

"Sure, Commander," said Clifford, "and I have to admit I'm curious as to what this could be about. Certainly not that little incident at Veccio's..."

"Well, yes and no." I said. "Let me first ask you some questions that might be confusing, but if you'll bear with me all will come to light soon enough. First, some background: you were a lawyer before coming to the University, here?"

"Yes." said Clifford. "I specialized in medical malpractice lawsuits."

"I understand that you went to law school several years after undergraduate school. What drove that decision?" I asked.

"You seem to know a lot about me, Officer." Clifford said, and I was aware of his underlying implication.

"Yes, we did do a routine check after the restaurant incident, but also due to some more recent issues that I'll explain in a moment, if you'll bear with me." I said. "So why did you go to law school?"

"Well, I kept seeing people getting screwed over. A doctor would commit malpractice, the insurance companies would put the victim through the wringer for years... it often was five to ten years before a case was moved forward... I kept seeing the insurance companies bear down on the victims to take a lousy settlement, then try to fuck- er, screw them over on that."

Clifford continued, his face becoming a bit red with his passion: "But worst of all was the lawyers. They always wanted to settle, and for much less than the client deserved. They just wanted to get paid after doing little to no work. It was a farce, and a clique. I got tired of hearing those stories, so I went to law school myself, got my degree, and opened up a can of whoop-ass, er, excuse my language, on these bastards. I won a lot of cases for my clients, too, and got them good compensation for the wrongs committed against them."

"Why did you get out of it and come here? To the University and the professorship, that is." I asked.

"I realized I couldn't do it alone." said Clifford. "I wanted to teach others the law, so they could carry on my fight. Some of them are going to fall to the dark side, making deals, getting paid and leaving the client hanging, but a few of them are showing strong promise and are carrying on the work. They're in the City now."

"What about your wife?" I asked. "Does she work with you?"

"No." John Clifford said. "She worked some with me during my days in practice, but hasn't held a Law-related job for years."

"What does she do now?" I asked.

"She mostly does volunteer work with the Ladies Auxiliary." said Clifford. "Sometimes she gives legal advice, pro bono, to these charity groups or to people that need help on small stuff, such as wills, financial arrangements, and the like. But mostly, she's just my beautiful trophy wife."

"I see." I said, forcing a smile to keep Clifford at ease. "Now about that incident at the restaurant. What can you tell me about that?"

"Oh yes, that." Clifford said. "I don't know, Commander. I'm sure if someone grabbed your wife's arm like that guy grabbed my wife, you'd be whaling his ass with that crowbar of yours. Well, I didn't have a crowbar, and maybe lucky for me..."

"I definitely can understand." I said. "So let me beat a dead horse for a second, pun not intended... what happened?" Clifford repeated his story, which 'jived' with the notes from Cindy's report.

"Oh, one thing I didn't mention to your Lieutenant because it really didn't come up," said Clifford, "but the guy kept calling my wife 'Natasha'. Now my wife says she doesn't know anyone named Natasha, and I don't either, nor any woman that really looks like my wife at all. It was really weird."

"Yes, it may be just a small thing." I said. "He thinks he knows who she is, but he's wrong, and you're there to defend your wife. Can't blame you for that. I do appreciate you telling me that about the name. Now let me ask this: did you ever come across the Doctors Searles, either Mr. or Mrs., in a professional way, that being your profession as opposed to theirs?"

"No." said Clifford, shaking his head slightly. "Richard Searles is doing research as he does cutting-edge operations. If he loses a patient, it's usually someone who was walking dead anyway. Almost impossible to win something like that. His wife is a GP, she almost always refers a case of any magnitude to another doctor. By the way, I've only known them since I came to the University, and was past the point of bringing new cases."

"So you don't have any legal actions against either of them, I gather?" I said.

"That's correct."

"I saw you talking to Gloria Searles at the Wellman's party the other night." I said. "Would you mind telling me what that was about?"

"Ah, getting to the real issue now, I see." said Clifford. "Truth is, I didn't wait to hear it. She tried to talk to my wife, who bolted for the door. Then she, Dr. Searles, wanted to talk to me, but my wife was ready to go, so I shook Dr. Searles off."

"But that's not the only reason." continued Clifford. "The fact is... I still don't like talking to doctors very much. Usually if they even speak to me, it in the form of threats or accusations of 'ambulance chasing' and such, and I have no love lost for them, either. So I didn't really want to talk to Dr. Searles. I told her to leave my wife alone, then I got out of there myself."

"Did you ask your wife about it?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah." said Clifford. "She said that Dr. Searles wanted to talk about her visit earlier that day, and Darla said she would call Dr. Searles back the next day, that she didn't want to talk to doctors while I was around. Apparently Dr. Searles did not take that as the invitation to leave that it was, and began bothering my wife. My wife headed for the door, and I was going that way myself when Dr. Searles accosted me. What is it with people these days? Won't leave people alone.."

"I dunno, but it keeps me in business. So you went home from the party?" I asked.

"Yeah." Clifford said. "We went home, watched some TV... smoked- well, I can't say anything to the police about that... and then went to bed. My wife was a bit agitated, and the best way to calm her down was several hours of play in bed, if you know what I mean... and as the husband of the sex professor on campus, I'm sure you do understand."

"Yes, I sure do." I said, grinning, then becoming serious again. "What time did you get up this morning, and what time did you get to work?"

"I usually am up at 6:30, get here about 7:30, my first class is at 8:10 on most days." said Clifford."

"Your wife was at home when you left? Asleep?"

"Yes, she was at home. She was already up. She fixed breakfast, and was working on the Internet when I left."

"She was there with you all night?

"Well, yeah." said Clifford, looking confused.

"Right now, I could care less about what you smoked last night." I said. "But how did you feel when you woke up?"

"A bit groggy, but nothing abnormal." said Clifford.

"And you've had no other contact with Dr. Searles since the incident at the Wellman's, nor has your wife?"

"No." said Clifford. "So, Officer, I am wondering what this is about."

"One more question: do you or your wife own a gun, Dr. Clifford?"

"No. Well, I don't. If Darla does I don't know about it." said Clifford. "Okay, Detective, I've been very cooperative here, but I really do want to know what's going on."

"What going on, Mr. Clifford," I said, hurling the words at him for effect, "is that Dr. Gloria Searles was found murdered this morning."

"What?!" Clifford gasped. "Oh my God!" He looked genuinely shocked. "You think Darla or I had anything to do with it?"

"I don't know, Dr. Clifford." I said. "But we have to routinely follow up all possible leads, and I'm sure you understand that the incident with Dr. Searles has to be examined."

"Yeah, yeah, I guess I can understand that." said Clifford. "But why would we kill her?"

"You tell me." I said.

"I have no idea about it." said John Clifford. He stood up. "I'll cooperate to the extent I can, Officer, but I think I've answered your questions and I should draw this conversation to a close."

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Clifford." I said. "You've been helpful, and I hope to have this matter cleared up quickly. In the meantime, you know the deal: tell the Police Department before you leave the County." With that, we left the office.

Back at Lt. Hanson's office at the Campus Police building, I asked the other men "Well, guys, what did you think?"

"If you ask me, he ain't got it in him." said Bill Hanson. "It was a bit strange how he asked 'Why would we kill her?' the way he did, meaning the form of his sentence."

"True." I said. "I think he was thinking about it even as I was talking to him, which prompted that 'thinking out loud' sentence. Martin?"

Martin Nash said "The one thing I noticed was his obvious hatred of doctors. He could not hide his passion as he talked about suing doctors and medical malpractice. Whether that would lead to murder? I don't know."

"Yes, and why do you think he has such a hatred of doctors?" I asked.

"Well, he said he watched people getting screwed over and he wanted to do something about it." Nash replied.

"And your inference from that is?" I asked, testing Nash. He knew it was a test, too.

"Uhh... I guess I'm not seeing it."

"May I suggest that that level of passion means he himself was the one screwed over at some point in time. It's noble to want to help others, but I think it's more personal than that with John D. Clifford. Now how it relates to Dr. Searles's murder, I don't know. So, Martin, what would you do next... or more accurately, what do you think *I* am going to do next?"

Martin grinned, such as a grin from him was. "You're going to call Myron to get him to find out why Clifford hates doctors."

"Bingo." I said as I drew out my cell phone. I made the call to Myron.

Just as we were about to leave, my phone rang. This time it was Tanya Perlman.

"Commander," Tanya said, "we went to Darla's home, but she's not there. She's not at the Ladies Auxiliary nor on the University Campus. Any ideas?" I knew what Tanya wanted me to authorize.

"Have Myron trace her cell phone signal, if she has her phone with her. Also, if she has a car with a GPS, trace that too." I said. "Do that right away, but then call Paulina Patterson and get a warrant to cover you. Paulina can tell the judge that Darla Clifford is a primary suspect in the Gloria Searles murder case, and that finding her is imperative."

"Wilco." said Tanya.

Part 10 - Sexual Exploits of a Hot Trophy Wife

"Oh God, yes!" gasped the woman as the handsome man entered her and sank the full length of his eight inch penis balls-deep into her. She groaned as he began pumping steadily in and out of her.

The man had a full head of wavy brown hair, a thick mustache, and a muscular physique. He was short, only 5'7" tall, but that didn't matter to the woman lying beneath him on the couch.

The woman was Darla Clifford, and she was enjoying the feeling of being deeply fucked by the stud's eight inch love muscle. They were in the man's office on the west side of Town, near the Warehouse District and also near the Southwestern Ghetto. It was a seedy neighborhood.

"Oh God, you fuck me so much better than my husband does!" Darla gasped as she pushed her loins up to meet the man's vigorous thrusts.

"Yeah, baby, you are one fine piece of ass. Fuck that cock with that hot cunt of yours." the man said, his raunchy words adding to the intensity of their mating as they rutted hotly.

The office was a doctor's office, and the man had gotten his medical degree from one of those Caribbean schools of medicine of rather low reputation. His clientele were people who took Schedule III and Schedule II drugs, and he was part of a ring of seedy doctors that fed the illicit trade at a premium price, in association with pharmacies of questionable repute.

But that was not in either lover's mind right now as the fucked deep and hot, like longtime lovers but knowing that every fuck might be their last ever with each other...

"Oh yeah, I love the feeling of that bare cock sliding in and out of me." gasped Darla. "It's been so long since I've been able to fuck a bare cock."

"Oh yeah, it feels great," the man said agreeably, "so hot and wet and nasty. Yeah, I love fucking this smoking hot cunt, baby." He rammed his meat in and out of her with long, driving thrusts, his hard asscheeks rapidly pistoning up and down as he fucked toward his release...

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

"All right, there's her car." said Tanya Perlman. She was with Detective Diana Torres. Lt. Cindy Ross had brought Officer Lydia Green as a uniformed backup.

"Well, her car is parked out here in the front parking lot." said Lt. Perlman. "We'll just have to go door-to-door and ask..."

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

"What's that sound?" Darla asked as she heard a commotion in the hallway, just as her lover finished pumping his potent, virile load deep inside her sopping wet, well-fucked cunt.

"Sounds like a fucking raid." said the man. "You go out the back door. I'll stay here."

As Tanya, Diana and Lydia entered the reception room, Darla quickly put on her clothes and hurtled out the back door.

"Going somewhere, Darla?" said the voice, stopping the woman cold in her tracks.

Cindy Ross was standing in front of her, her fists on her hips, her legs spread slightly apart...

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

The pharmacist Lockhart put the landline phone down and said to his assistant behind the counter. "Lock up. We're closing." To the young man at the front counter, he said "Lock the front doors."

"What's going on?" the girl behind the counter said. "Why are we closing?'

"Annie, would you please just shut. the. fuck. up. and do what I tell you?" Lockhart snarled. "I'm closing! Now get out of here! Go home!" Annie didn't respond, but just stood there in uncomprehending confusion. When she didn't move, Lockhart's already-worn patience snapped.

"MOVE, bitch!" he yelled, pushing her the several feet to the back door and out of it into the back alley, then slamming the door in her face.

"Stupid bitch, dumb as a box of rocks." said Lockhart to his male assistant. "We got the message to bolt." Indeed, when he'd answered the phone, only one word had come across the wire: "Bolt." And Lockhart knew what it meant.

After locking the front doors and turning the door sign to 'Closed', the young man moved towards the back. He and Lockhart turned off all the lights, and went out the back door, Lockhart securing it.