The Murdered Football Player Ch. 02

"Oh no, Coach, I was just informally asking him a few questions to try to get to the bottom of Jeff Jackson's death." I said, covering for Tony.

"Okay, but really, I can't let you talk to him any more without going through channels."

Marshall said. "You know the drill with the protocols and all."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Coach, and here's my number." I said, giving the Coach my card. "Let's get in touch when you can, though I know you're busy this time of season."

"Sure thing, Don." the Coach said. "You two just head down the stairs and out, and it'll be like you were never here. Tony, this is the first time I've ever seen you in a study room..." I heard him say as Martin and I scooted past the punk kid, glaring hard at him along the way, and down the staircase. The punk glared back, and I made a mental note to find out a lot more about him.

The University's main square, or quad, was surrounded by buildings that included the Psychology building, Pharmacy building, Chemistry building, etc. on the north side and English, Literature, Fine Arts, History, etc. on the south side. There was a fence and gate that opened to the main north-south road and was the official entrance, as it was when the University was started more than 150 years before. The Town was on the other side of the road and my home "The Cabin" hovered on the mountain to the east, high over the University, just barely south of an east-west line bisecting the main quad.

Just north of that ring of buildings was another ring around a grassy quad, which were all dorms. The Old Dorm was at the west end, a fence and small strip of ground separating it from the main road, while the "New Dorm", which was the second-oldest dorm and an exact duplicate of Old Dorm, was on the far opposite side: at the base of the mountain that rose up east of campus. My mother's house was on that mountain almost straight above the dorm. The Old Dorm's front facade looked like the front of The Alamo, but was old red brick in color.

Nash and I again ignored the front desk girls, except for me making sure they saw my Campus Police badge. On the second floor near the center of the dorm, whose back window would overlook the main road and not the quad, was Teddy Franklin's room.

The door opened to our knock, and a drop-dead gorgeous blonde co-ed appeared. She was naked, with only a towel barely covering her large breasts and her loins.

"Hi guys, what can I do for you?" she asked, her playfulness reminding me of Tanya Perlman.

"Is Teddy Franklin here?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, he went out a few minutes ago." the girl said. "Would you like to leave me a message for him?"

Nash was about to give her a card, but I stopped him. "We'll catch up to him." I said. "Thank you, miss." Urging Nash along, we left.

As we walked back to the car, Nash said "Whew! Glad I have a girlfriend."

"I hear ya." I said. "Football players get all the girls."

"Why not give our number and have him call?" Nash asked.

"Because he won't." I said. "And if he knows the police are looking for him, he might bug out, especially if he knows anything about Jeff Jackson."

"So how do we find him and talk to him?" Martin said. Just then my cellphone went off.

"Yes, Chief?" I said, answering it. "Yes sir." I said woodenly upon hearing his orders for me and Nash to return to Headquarters immediately.

"Well, this is it." I said after hanging up.

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see when we get there." I said, no small amount of frustration in my voice.

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When we entered the Headquarters building, we both immediately felt the tension, which could be cut with a knife. Entering the MCD room, we found all of the MCD and Vice Detectives except Steven Ikea and Sergeant Sharples sitting and chatting. Sharples was on leave, attending the funeral of a relative.

While the others were talking, Cindy Ross was at her desk, silently sulking, and nobody in their right mind had any desire to go near her, not even her friend Teresa "Cunt" Croyle. Britt Maxwell was also in the room, talking to Tanya Perlman and Angela Harlan.

I did what any good MCD Lieutenant would do: I walked through the gaggle straight to Cindy Ross. I never said I was in my right mind, did I?

"What's going on, my friend?" I asked.

"Captain Maxwell did not come here alone; she was accompanied by Commissioner Robinson." Cindy said, looking up at me from under her eyelids without raising her head. "The Chief has told us to all wait in here and will speak to us when he gets out of his meeting."

"And who is in the meeting?" I asked.

It was Britt Maxwell that answered. "Chief Griswold, Commissioner Robinson, and SBI Deputy Director Tom Conlan." Commissioner Robinson was the Campus Police Commissioner. Just then, the Chief's secretary, Martha, appeared at the back door.

"The Chief has asked for all of you to go to Classroom J." Martha announced, as if we were to head to the receiving line of one of University President Wellman's receptions. We all trudged out and down the hall to Classroom J. Once there, as everyone took seats, I went to the front and said what had to be said.

"Before the Chief gets here, guys," I said, "I want to say something. I have a good idea what's going to happen, and I think you do, too. I want all of you to remember who you are and who we are, and act like the professional police officers that we are, okay?"

There was a grumbling of acquiescence.

"Here comes the Chief. Get on your feet and show respect as he comes in." I said. I moved quickly next to a seat up front. The chief came in and looked around as we stood at attention, as if he were a military commander.

"Take seats, please." the Chief said when he got to the podium in front, not allowing himself to be fazed at our formality. After we sat down, he addressed us.

"After due consideration and discussions with other law enforcement officials, I have decided that we are going to turn jurisdiction of the Jefferson Jackson case over to the State Bureau of Investigation--"

The groan in the room was audible and stopped the Chief mid-sentence. He glared over the room and continued. "We will give the SBI copies of our notes of the case, copies of our forensics data and one set of samples. We will cooperate with them in any way they need-- when they ask. Unless and until they do ask, none of you are investigate the Jackson case any further. Captain Malone is assisting the parents of the late Mr. Jackson, who are his personal friends, so he may continue to act in that capacity. I expect everyone to abide by this decision with your usual professionalism and-- Miss Ross, do you have something to say?" The Chief had seen that Cindy, while silent, was deeply red faced and her eyes flashing fire.

Teresa Croyle was not able to stop Cindy from standing up and coming to attention, not facing the Chief but facing forward. "Yes sir. With all due respect sir, there is no way that this case gets solved or resolved without him--" she was pointing at me, "and without this team getting the job done. The SBI can't find water in a swimming pool, sir. By law, it's your call on who has jurisdiction, sir, and I request that you reconsider and let us retain jurisdiction over this case."

"Thank you, Miss Ross. Have a seat." the Chief said. I could just feel the tension in everyone's minds and souls. Teresa looked at Cindy as if lightning was going to come down and strike Cindy into ashes as the Chief said "Folks, I'm not going to explain myself in making this decision, but I will make two comments: first, I have complete faith and trust in each and every one of your abilities to do your jobs, and my decision is in no way a negative reflection on any of you... quite the opposite, in fact.

"Second, there's an old saying that 'the higher up the flagpole you go, the farther your ass sticks out'. One day some of you, and especially this Lieutenant in front of you, is going to come to understand the meaning of those words. Until then, it's my ass at the top of the flagpole. And while you won't understand, I've made this decision partially to help and to protect all of you."

"Okay, folks," the Chief said, letting his voice melt into a friendlier, quieter tone. "It's Sunday. Go home, get some rest, and come back tomorrow ready to solve new problems. Crowbar, Perlman, Captain Maxwell, please come to my small conference room. The rest of you are dismissed."

Everyone got up and begin filing out. As Cindy came by me, I whispered to her to wait in MCD for me, and she nodded.

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"Okay Perlman," the Chief said, once we were in the conference room, "have Technician Cho do her magic and make sure we keep some sample."

"Already covered, sir." Perlman said. Commissioner Robinson was also in the room, his face inscrutable.

"Don, I want to be doubly clear that neither you nor MCD are to work on this case unless asked by the SBI." said the Chief. "Captain Maxwell, I can't order you to not pursue the case--"

"I can." said Commissioner Robinson as he looked out the window. He then turned and let his eyes set upon Britt. "And I do. We're off the case as well, Captain." I realized that that little repartee had been staged between the two men.

"Yes sir." Britt said, the air going out of her sails as it had the rest of us.

"Lieutenant, stay here." the Chief said. "The rest of you can go." I asked Tanya to wait in her office in this building until I was out. She nodded. Everyone else left, leaving me alone with Chief Griswold. It was silent for a long moment.

"So, Crowbar, nothing to say?" the Chief finally said.

"No sir." I said, perhaps a bit flatly. "You've made your decision and you have your reasons."

"Very professional of you." Chief Griswold said. "I appreciate it, though part of me wishes you'd be screaming at me right now. I can tell you're pissed. Was that you that set up that little attention spectacle when I came into Classroom J?"

"Yes sir." I said. "That was an attention-getter... pun not intended."

"Just wait until you're in the Chief's chair." the Chief said.

"That's why I don't want that chair for another 20 years." I replied. The Chief peered at me.

"What do you want, Crowbar?" the Chief asked openly for the first time. "Ultimately, I mean?"

"To solve cases, and to clean up the dirt not only in this Police Department... but in this whole County."

"Ambitious task, but I'm with you on that. By the way... does Miss Ross need further instruction in professionalism?" the Chief asked.

"No sir." I said. "I'll talk to her."

Part 7 - Transition

I entered the MCD room several minutes later. Cindy Ross was sitting at her desk, Teresa on the other side of it, neither saying anything. When I walked in, Teresa excused herself and left. I pulled up a chair next to Cindy's and sat down.

"So, how much trouble am I in?" she asked, looking ahead.

"None." I said. "None at all. The Chief was not happy about that, of course, but nothing is going to come of it. If he changes his mind and puts something in your file, I'll take it right back out."

I continued: "I might... suggest... that you take stuff like that private, even if given that opportunity to speak like that. You could probably have gone into the Chief's office and cussed him out and chewed his ass up one side and down the other... as long as it was in private. Don't do that now, of course." Cindy smiled at the last comment.

"I guess I should go apologize." she said.

"No, just let it go." I said. "The Chief let you speak intentionally, to fulfill several purposes, one of which is this conversation we are having right now. As the posters say, 'Keep Calm And Carry On'."

"Well, I guess we're off the case." Cindy said.

"Yep." I said, "but along the way I developed a few sidelines that we can look into. Care to join me, partner?"

Cindy finally smiled for real. "Sure thing... partner."

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Tanya was in her little office across from mine when I came and got her. "Let's take a stroll to the Crime Lab Building." I said. The Crime Lab Building and Morgue was across the secure parking lot, within the fences so that it was protected. It was a walk of 120 meters over pavement. That was good: no bugs, I had checked.

As we walked along I asked quietly, "Have you started running a DNA test on the material found under Jackson's fingernails and on his cock?"

"Yes." Tanya said, smiling. "I 'milked' his cock and got some residue out. Semen, but maybe there'll be enough other stuff to go along with the skin under his fingernails, and that it's the woman's DNA... assuming it's a woman."

"I think we can safely deduce that Jackson was straight and that he was fucking a woman." I said. "Do you have enough sample to give some to the SBI?"

"No." Tanya said.

"Then don't give it to them, don't give them notes that mention the material. Keep running the test. We'll have to give the SBI a copy of the results when the tests are done, but we can burn that bridge when we come to it."

"Roger that, boss." Tanya said. "By the way, how does the Chief know about Christina's magic?"

"Because I told him." I said. "One does not keep secrets from one's boss, especially the Chief of Police, and most especially that man."

"What do you think of him giving up the case to the SBI?" Tanya said, her face showing doubtfulness. "That's totally unlike him."

"To a point, yes." I said. "But he's getting old, near retirement, we have some serious issues within the Department that I'm looking at-- by the way, don't say anything about that to anyone-- and I think the Chief is truly trying to protect us from our own ability to solve the case. If I'm right, there's stuff relating back to the football team... and God have mercy on the soul of anyone who causes a problem for that sacred cow for the School and this County."

"Never seen the Chief back down to the University before, no matter what. Justice has always come first." Tanya said, sadness in her voice.

"And it will continue to. He hasn't given up. Don't judge him too harshly." I said, smiling as we neared the Lab Building.

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"I'm really sorry about how all this went down." Ted Crenshaw said as I handed him a file containing copies of my notes of the Jackson case. Crenshaw had been the SBI agent that had worked with us on the Anthony Warner "Swap" murders.

It was Monday morning, about 9:00am. SBI agents were crawling around our Headquarters and the Crime Lab building, really enjoying adding verbal insults to my people as they collected copies of data. The normally quiet and professional Martin Nash had been irritated enough to tell one SBI agent to "mind your manners" when the guy arrogantly told Nash outright that the Town & County Police weren't good enough to handle the case. The guy backed off when he looked over his shoulder and found Cindy Ross staring at him, ready to start a fight and administer some serious pain.

The people collecting info from the Crime Lab respected Tanya Perlman enough to not cause trouble with her, fortunately for all. It is possible that Officer Pete Feeley and two other uniformed policemen with bulletproof vests, guns, and wielding heavy police batons kept things quiet and professional over there, as well.

"Yeah, "I said to Crenshaw, "and your people here aren't helping with their jabs at my guys." I said. "I will be remembering this."

"Look, Don," Crenshaw said, trying hard to keep things good between us, "they sent me over because I've got a decent relationship with you guys. I told my guys to keep their mouths shut, which they are not doing. Let me handle them; there will be some reprimands in some files."

"All right." I said. "By the way, if you're in charge, are you going to ask me for 'assistance with your inquiries'?"

Crenshaw looked around, then lowered his voice and sat down on the edge of the desk behind which I was seated. "I'm not in charge, I'm not even on this case; they sent me here because I'm one of the few SBI agents you won't immediately beat the shit out of with your crowbar. They're scared shitless of you, Don, not only because of the crowbar but because of your ability to solve cases."

"And one more thing..." Crenshaw continued, looking around again to make sure he wasn't heard. "Don, I was given orders in very explicit terms that neither I nor anyone here was to ask nor give any hint of asking any of you for any help at all. That may be why some of our guys are acting like dickheads, kind of as cover so they don't say the wrong words. But the bottom line is that the brass really put the fear of God in us. Just between us... I don't think the brass wants this case solved."

"Or they want it solved in a way that does not reflect badly in any way on the University, and especially not the football program, no matter where the Truth may lead them." I replied quietly. "And Ted, it may really have just been a heart attack, and some people panicked and dumped the body. But look around and tell me if you think this reaction is for that."

"Speaking of the Truth..." Crenshaw said, "The truth is that I'll be glad to hand this data over and get the hell away from this case. It's toxic, pure poison." I wondered if he realized how truthful his words were...

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Coach Erskine "Iron Man" Marshall entered Head Coach Brian Harlan's office at 10:00am. "You wanted to see me, Coach?"

"Yeah, come on in, have a seat." Harlan said.

"What's up?" Marshall asked.

"I'll get right to it." Harlan said. "I heard that you interrupted a cop talking to Tony--, and that you knew the cop really well."

"Yeah, sure." Marshall said. "He was an ROTC cadet at the previous school at I was at. I weight-trained the cadets there like I do here. He was a really good cadet, and a good officer too, from what I heard."

"So what was he talking to Tony about?" Harlan asked.

"I don't know, they stopped talking when I went into the room. I told Don he couldn't talk to any players without coming through us coaches, and Don and his fellow officer left. You'll have to ask Tony what they were talking about."

"I already have, it was about Jeff Jackson's death. Tony didn't know anything." Harlan said, then let his eyes bore into Marshall's. "Look, Iron Man, I'm going to be very blunt, here. I don't want you talking to that cop while they're investigating Jeff Jackson, even if he's your friend. And if you see him trying to talk to any of our players, I need to know that immediately."

"Sure." said Marshall. "Er, is there a problem, Coach?" He asked, a sense of foreboding suddenly enveloping him.

"The SBI is taking over the Jackson investigation, which makes me feel a lot better." Harlan said. "I don't trust the Town & County Police, even with my cousin being hired there... hell, I feel worse with her there than not. But I just want them at a distance from us, until the SBI rightfully finds that Jackson died of natural causes or something like that."

"Okay, Coach." Marshall said.

"See you at practice." Harlan said as a dismissal. Marshall left. The back door to the coach's office opened and Coach Willy "Speedy" Gonzales walked in. He was the wide receivers coach, and a former semi-pro receiver. He was slender with light brown skin, black hair and a mustache, and his eyes were dark and cunning, especially when narrowed into slits. He also was the guy handling getting and distributing PEDs and other drugs to players who could be trusted to keep their mouths shut.

"What do you think, Speedy?" Harlan said.

"He's too honest. And he's a friend of the most honest and powerful cop on the Town Police Force, who is a Campus cop also? I don't like that mix at all, Coach."