Another Day in the Life Ch. 01

A girl from Town High stood up, introducing herself as 'Donna'. "Captain Croyle, do you think the example you set on Christmas Eve will inspire other women to be Police Officers? And do you aspire to be and expect to be Police Chief one day?"

"I don't know if running into a building that exploded around me is exactly inspirational." Teresa replied, drawing some laughs. "But if the example of helping others and solving crimes and keeping law and order causes other women to be inspired to become Police Officers, then that would be great. As to being Police Chief, I imagine I'll retire from the Police Force before becoming Chief. As that other person's question showed, we've got a mighty young Police Commander now who is destined for the Chief's chair."

"But don't you think you have as much right to be considered as Police Chief as Commander Troy?" asked Donna, perhaps a bit rudely, but that's kids today.

"As much right? Maybe." said Teresa. "But again, this isn't about gender, it's about leadership. And Commander Troy's leadership exceeds anyone's that I've ever met."

"Butter me up, butter me up." I whispered towards Teresa. She just arched her eyebrows.

A student from County High stood up, introducing himself as 'Raymond'. He looked mature for his age, had a full head of hair, and looked destined to become a leader or great businessman himself.

"Commander, Captain, thank you for coming today." he said. Okay, maybe he'll be a politician, too, I thought. Then he continued: "I'm going to enter the University as a business major this fall semester, and I'm taking AP courses already. I'm seeing that both Academia and especially the Press are working hard to push an agenda where merit does not matter, and quotas must be implemented into any work force. Business methods taught by Academia are of groupthink, of study groups and taking action by consensus, as opposed to an actual structure of bosses and employees. Sir, ma'am, do you believe the Press's pushing of this agenda is harmful to this country, to businesses, and to institutions such as the Police Force?"

"You are trying to get me in trouble with Ms. Wurtzburg, aren't you?" I asked him with a grin. People laughed, including Bettina, but I noticed plenty of tension in the BTW group... and the County High group as well. Good thing the Town High group was between them... oh, wait... that was done on purpose, I'd bet.

I said "Well, look. Like I said before in answering Tasheeka's question, our Police Force operates on every individual doing his or her job to the best of his or her ability, of Police partners working together as they patrol the County, and for our teams to work together to get our missions done. Part of your question touches on leadership, as well. I consult with Captain Croyle and my other Captains, but when I make a decision and give the orders, that's it; they do it. And when my Police Chief tells me to do something, I do it. That's not groupthink, and we don't operate on consensus. We don't have time, and in our profession, lives are on the line."

"But do quotas, as demanded by politicians and pushed for by the Media, hurt the Police Force?" Raymond persisted.

"Let me try this." Teresa said. Then she said loudly: "Our Police Force doesn't know, because we don't have problems like that. We hire the best we can get, and we're fortunate that Police Academy graduates of all ethnicities want to work with us. Our diversity numbers match the overall population pretty well; in fact, we have more Hispanic officers percentage-wise than our County has Hispanic citizens. But the bottom line is that every Officer we hire must be good at his or her job, or he or she won't last with us. And the Commander is much more forgiving than I am."

"Commander," said another County High student, whose name was 'Walter', "do you believe the Press is biased, and has an agenda against Police?"

I think the look on my face is what started the laughter, which got stronger and lasted for several long seconds. I finally said "I don't just believe the Press is biased... I know it. Ms. Wurtzburg here will argue against this, but yes, the Media is biased. One reason I'm talking to you now is in the hope that your generation will be less biased and more truthful in your reporting.

"Why?" asked Walter. "What reason do they have for being biased?"

"My first reason to tell you is 'follow the money'." I said, totally ignoring Bettina's presence. "They don't make money by giving all rosy sunshine news about charity drives and puppy adoptions at the Pound. They make money by creating drama, then reporting on that drama. Angst and pain are what make the Press money."

"The second reason," I continued, attaining special clarity with my words, "is because the Press believes they know better than you what is good for you. They are so arrogant that they fully expect you to believe every word they say, to do everything they tell you to do, and to vote for who they tell you to vote for. One national reporter said, and I quote, 'it's our job to tell our viewers exactly what to think'. That's what they believe is literally their right to do: to tell you exactly what to think."

Bettina was looking daggers at me now. Teresa stepped in and said "Does anyone have a question about basic Police work, about what we do during the day?" The looks from the students were... mixed, to say the least.

A youngish Asian girl from County High raised her hand, and upon being recognized gave her name as 'Amy'. "Commander Troy," she asked, "is it true that you were a Chemistry major, and how has that helped you be a Police Officer?"

"Now that is a good question!" I said happily. "First, it helps me be a good Detective more than anything else. The Batman and Sherlock Holmes were chemists, as well. Chemistry and the Science of Detection are closely interlocked, and my knowledge of Chemistry has helped me solve some cases more easily than I otherwise would have."

"So if I wanted to be a Detective," said Amy, "or work in a Crime Lab, I should major in Chemistry also?"

"I would say that if you love Chemistry, and Science in general, that would be fine," I replied, "but with this one caveat: double major in Chemistry and something else. Either Police Science or Criminal Justice, or plain ol' Philosophy. Or plan on Day One to get your Ph.D. in Chemistry..." Amy was thoughtful about that. Before I left, I gave her my card, and told her to call or email me if she wanted to talk more about it.

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

"What did you think of that one?" I asked Teresa as we drove back to Headquarters in my Police SUV.

"I was genuinely wondering if Bettina had gotten to them and planted questions before we arrived." said Teresa. "That girl that asked about the complaints... she sure had a lot of numbers at her disposal."

"No," I said, "I think she was genuine. She seemed like a pretty bright and articulate girl, and could've done that research. I do think her question was pre-disposed to be political, and in a race-relations kind of way."

"Was it just me," said Teresa, "or was there a lot of tension in the County High group when she asked that? And then that business major guy asked that pointed question, and the BTW kids were flashing some ugly looks his way."

"Yeah," I said, "there were some racial tensions there." I said. "What we saw today from our three high schools is a microcosm of the Nation, politically speaking. Two polar opposites, with the 'proletarian masses' in between. By the way, thanks for the props on my youth and inexperience." Teresa chuckled.

"It gets me to thinking." said Teresa. "Supposedly, those students in there were the best and brightest of the three schools. But I saw hardly any leaders at all."

"Leadership is not easy to do, which is why there are so few of us." I said. "Knowing what to do is one thing; getting other people to follow you into doing it, is entirely another."

"What do you think is the most important aspect of leadership?" Teresa asked.

"Hmmm," I said, thinking, "that's not easy to answer. There's a lot of factors. But I think what it all boils down to in the end, is confidence. Ability is one thing, but it takes confidence to forge ahead. All the great leaders, be they in war or in business, had and have confidence. The greats in Sports had and have confidence. In order to take risks, one has to have deep-down confidence in oneself. Otherwise, they lose faith, and fail when they might've succeeded if they'd just believed in themselves a bit more."

"And great leaders inspire confidence in others." said Teresa. "As you inspired confidence in me, and in Cindy."

I couldn't argue with that.

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

When we got back to Headquarters, MCD was empty. Captain Ross came into my office to explain.

"We got in a couple of calls." said Cindy. "A woman called and said she thought her bottle of Tylenol had been spiked with poison. I sent Joanne and Theo with a CSI team to investigate. Jerome and Teddy are checking out a break-in at one of the stores at the Mall."

"Okay, good." I said as I sat down to do paperwork.

Part 3 - Headaches

10:12am, Monday, April 16th. Detectives Joanne Warner and Theo Washington were at the home of Dennis and Patricia Ridley, located in a modest neighborhood on the north side of Town.

"Whew!" Joanne said as she sniffed the bottle of Tylenol capsules. "Yeah, something strong is in there. Christina, would you bag and tag this and take it to the State Crime Lab for testing? Oh, and take this bottle Bayer aspirin next to it." Christina Cho came forward and took the requisite action, then left with another tech, maintaining two-man control of the evidence.

"So what happened, Mrs. Ridley?" asked Joanne, a video technician recording the conversation as another video technician swept through the rooms of the house, with Mrs. Ridley's permission secured in writing to do that.

"I was getting a headache," said Patricia Ridley, "and it's getting that time of month, so I went to take a Tylenol for it." Patricia Ridley was slender, wiry even, relatively tall for a woman at 5'8" tall, with brown hair that hung limply around her head to her shoulders. Her freckled face was not especially pretty, but she wasn't ugly, either. She was dressed in an old-looking pink blouse, brown sweater that was not buttoned, and blue jeans with unintentional holes in a couple of places, and which left much of her ankles exposed, and tennis shoes.

"When I opened the bottle," she said, "that smell hit me like a punch in the face. I realized that something was wrong, so I called the Police."

"Ma'am," said Theo Washington, "do you think this is something that happened at the factory? Or do you have reason to believe this was done afterwards?"

"I think it's afterwards, and just this bottle." said Mrs. Ridley. "The bottle had been opened some days ago, and didn't have that strong smell. And... well, my husband and I have not been doing well in our marriage the last few months. I've been contemplating leaving him and divorcing him."

"So you think your husband did this?" Joanne asked.

"I can't say that out loud." said Patricia. "And that's one reason I called the Police. I want you to investigate, and find out the truth."

"You have a child, ma'am?" asked Theo.

"Yes. He's in school." said Patricia.

"Ma'am," said Theo, "we are going to need you to come down to the Police Station with us, where we'll ask you some questions about this and take your statement while we wait for the tests from the Crime Lab. This is for your protection, ma'am, and you can have a lawyer present if you feel you need one."

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

10:45am. Patricia Ridley was seated in Interrogation-A. Officer Inga Gunddottar was the Uniformed attendee. Joanne and Theo were sitting on the 'Police' side of the table, facing Patricia and the door to the hallway to the lobby.

"So, ma'am," said Joanne, "in light of what may be going on here, we have to ask you some rather personal questions."

"I understand." said Patricia.

"Your husband's name is Dennis Ridley?" asked Theo. Patricia nodded. "What is your husband's occupation, ma'am?" asked Theo.

"He's in medical equipment sales." said Patricia. "Stuff like furniture, cabinets for doctors offices, and stuff like the pump machines they use to give morphine when you press the button after coming out of surgery."

"And your occupation, ma'am?" asked Theo.

"I'm in medical-related sales, also." said Patricia.

"Is that how you met your husband?" asked Joanne.

"Yes." said Patricia.

"And you've been married how long?" asked Joanne.

"Fourteen years." said Patricia.

"And you have one child, Zack." said Joanne. Patricia Ridley confirmed that. "And how old is he?" Mrs. Ridley said Zack had just turned twelve.

"Okay... so you and your husband are not getting along?" asked Joanne.

"No." said Patricia. "I know that he is seeing at another woman, maybe more than one."

"By 'know'," said Joanne, "do you mean that you have proof of that?"

"Yes." said Patricia. "I hired a private investigator. My attorney has the photographs."

"But you haven't filed for divorce yet?" asked Joanne. Patricia said she had not, and had waited in order to weigh her options, and to determine if counseling could save the marriage, for the sake of their child Zack.

"We have to ask this." said Joanne. "Have you had an extramarital relationship?"

"Uhhhh..." said Patricia. She considered how to answer, then finally said "Yes. I have."

"If the tests come back positive for dangerous chemicals," said Joanne, "you'll have to tell us who you've had affairs with. They would be suspects." Patricia nodded, looking a bit uncertain now; she likely had not realized that aspect of the situation.

"Do you and your husband have life insurance policies?" asked Theo.

"Yes, we have them on each other." said Patricia.

"Any guns in your house?" asked Joanne. "And does your husband own any guns that you know of?"

"No." said Patricia. "Not that I know of, anyway. He used to be a hunter, but sold all his rifles a few years ago."

"Does your husband have a cellphone?" asked Joanne.

"Yes." said Patricia. She gave Joanne the number, as well as her own cellphone's number.

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

"Well," said the store manager, Steve Coltrane, "I'm beginning to think I made a mistake, and there was no break-in."

Detectives Jerome Davis and Teddy Parker were at the Coltrane Sports store at the mall, one of the smaller shops in the place. They bought a lot of used gear, and so the place was cluttered with a mixture of used and new sports equipment. Steve Coltrane, the manager and owner of the concern, was an athletic man with broad shoulders, a muscular physique, and a face that suggested a lack of smarts. Yes, I just stereotyped him as a dumb jock, so sorry.

"So guide us through what happened, Mr. Coltrane." said Jerome.

"When I got here this morning," said Coltrane, "the back door to the place was unlocked, and the burglar alarm was not activated. I thought it might have been disconnected and the place broken into, so I called the Police. But after checking around, I can't find anything missing. The safe wasn't broken into, and all the money that was in it was still there."

"What time do you close?" asked Jerome Davis.

"Nine p.m., when the Mall closes." said Coltrane. "I get here about 7:00am each morning and do books and inventory, then open when the Mall opens at 9:00am. I stay until 4:30 to 5:00pm, and my assistant Paul gets here around 4:00pm and closes up at 9:00pm."

"Does Paul stay late, to do inventory or shelf-stocking?" asked Jerome.

"No." said Coltrane. "He just shuts it down, locks the doors, sets the alarm, and goes."

"How long have you been in business here?" asked Jerome.

"Eight years this June."

"And how long has Paul been with you?"

"Almost that long." said Steve Coltrane. "I hired him for the Christmas rush that first season, and he's been with me ever since."

"Totally trustworthy?"

"Oh, yes." said Coltrane. "Never had a problem with money or anything else the whole time."

"Okay." said Jerome. "Well, if you think it's a false alarm, we'll leave it at that. If you find anything missing, call us back." He gave Coltrane his card, and the Detectives left.

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

10:45am. Captain Cindy Ross came into MCD to find Davis and Parker at their desks, having just returned from Coltrane Sports.

"Back already?" Cindy asked them.

"Yes, ma'am." said Jerome. "False alarm. Guy thought his store was broken into, then said nothing was missing."

"I got the feeling, ma'am," said Teddy Parker, "that he may have left the door unlocked himself and not have set the alarm, realized it after calling us, and was embarrassed about it."

"Okay." said Cindy. "Sounds kind of strange in its own right."

"He didn't seem like the brightest bulb on the string, ma'am." said Jerome Davis. "Having said that, it may well be that his employee did leave the door unlocked and the alarm not activated." He explained that the assistant closed up shop at night. "In any case, it's 'no harm, no foul', as far as I'm concerned."

"Yeah." Cindy said, more to herself than them. "Tell you what, guys: contact the Mall's security office, and see if they noticed anything out of the ordinary around that store at closing time or afterwards." Teddy Parker reached for the phone on his desk.

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

11:00am.

"Thank you all for coming." said Captain Teresa Croyle. They were in the Main Conference Room of Police Headquarters. Present were Precinct Captain Damien Thompson, Precinct Lieutenant Carswell, Precinct Lieutenant Irwin, and SpecOps Lieutenant Hewitt.

"We've got some big agenda items today." said Teresa. "As you know, and as you've probably heard through the grapevine, there's going to be some shuffling of the TCPD leadership structure. Captain Briscoe is taking the post of Campus Police Commissioner and Provost Marshal, which is a great move for him and for the University. The Chief is taking all the proposed promotions and other moves to the Council tomorrow night... what?"

She'd noticed everyone looking around at each other. They didn't say anything. Finally, she took her badge off her shirt and put it on the table. "Put 'em on the table, and speak freely. Please." They all put their badges on the table.

It was Precinct Captain Damien Thompson who spoke: "Ma'am, we had a discussion amongst ourselves, and we feel we need to bring some things to you now. But unofficially, off the table."

"Does this have anything to do with Commander Troy not being suspended for the helicopter incident?" Teresa asked.

"No ma'am." said Thompson. "Everyone understood all that. The problem is... well, ma'am, let me just ask you: if Della Harlow wins the Sheriff race, will you stay with the TCPD?"

Teresa almost gasped in shock. Then she realized the full import of what was being asked. "And more importantly," she said, "the Officers want to know if Commander Troy will stay with the TCPD."

"That question has also been raised, ma'am." said Thompson.

"Ma'am," said Lt. Irwin, "I think everyone understands that if Harlow wins, she's going to do whatever she can to get Commander Troy fired, and maybe the Chief, too. We also understand that we need Commander Troy far more than he needs the TCPD. With all the crap they're trying to put on him, nobody would blame him if he left for the FBI or something. But if he leaves, and then you and Captain Ross leave... who is going to be there to protect us from Harlow?"

Teresa nodded. She realized the dilemma... sure, she could walk away; she was about to marry the richest man in the County, running one of the richest companies in the Nation. Cindy was the heiress to an even richer man. Commander Troy and his wife had money, had options.