Case of the Black Badge Ch. 03

"Okay, I see." I said, making a note in my notebook. "And that's something else to be fixed around here. What about Brody?"

"Seems to be the real deal." Myron said. "No priors on those fingerprints, either. Came up with a Dishonorable from the Navy, though, under the name Brody."

"Hmmm," I said, "so Gunn is- hey, Mary, get Officer Billy Smith and Senior Patrolman Ben Wesson's prints, then run them through the FBI database."

It took a few minutes, but Wesson came back under another name, with an arrest for burglary of a pharmacy. The only prints the FBI had at all for Billy Smith had been submitted by our Police Academy... but Mary soon found that no records for Smith existed at all prior to just before his application to the Police Academy.

"Check his records, they're likely forged." I said. "I don't even need to tell you to keep this quiet. I'll have you send this to Internal Affairs, but not until I've talked to the Chief first, so be on standby. And guys... that was fantastic work. You two are the very best. C'mon, Cindy!" We hustled to the Chief's office, leaving behind two people happy to have been recognized for their efforts.

--

"Good grief, Crowbar... and this is what you accomplish without getting any sleep?" growled Chief Griswold.

I was in the Chief's office with Cindy Ross, and we had just gotten the Chief up to date on the motorcycle assassin possibility as well as the records of Brody, Gunn, Smith and Wesson.

"By no means alone, Chief. I have an excellent team." I said.

"You sure as hell do, and speaking of that team: Ross! if you were police chief," asked the Chief, "what would you do now?"

"Looks like I've been passed over for promotion, Cindy." I quipped.

"You're going to be Sheriff." the Chief fired back. Old man still got game, I thought to myself as the Chief said "Cindy?"

"Chief, I'd consider giving these guys some line to run with, then reel them in when they snarl it up." said Detective Ross.

"See, Crowbar?" said the Chief, "this Detective knows how to talk to me in my language: fishing! That's a good idea, Cindy. Let's get this to I.A. so they can start tailing these guys and see what contacts they make that they shouldn't be making."

---

"Just got a preliminary report." Tanya Perlman reported over the telephone. "You were right about 'Big Alex' and 'Blondie' being related. They're not blood-brothers, but they have a lot of what are called DNA 'markers' in common. They're likely cousins. Don't know if this will help you in your case in any way, though."

No, I thought as I thanked Tanya and hung up the phone, there's probably no further connection. But I was pleased that my hunch was right...

---

The sun was just setting as we looked over the scene of the future construction. Laura and I were taking Daniel and Melina out to dinner, and Daniel had first wanted to show us his lot on the mountainside that he and Melina were in the planning stages of building.

"Very nice view." I said. I could see the town below, a different angle than The Cabin or the Mountain Nest, more to the north-by-northeast of Town. I could see the highway and train tracks coming in from the west, then both curving South to bypass the town as the road into town broke off and headed east. I could see the dark, twisting ribbon that was the River, and I let my eyes follow it upriver, to the north.

"So that's the police outdoor gun range." I said, pointing to a few lights at the base of the mountain at an angle to our right as we looked at it."

"Yes." said Daniel. "And over there, to its west, by the river over there is the North Water Works complex." He was pointing at a cluster of lights that illuminated a gray building and two circular tanks.

"And just to the south of the Water Works is the Fire Academy." I said. "They must be doing a drill, it's lit up."

"Yes." said Daniel. "It's usually dark there. What they do is have the high schools' vocational programs come out and build a framework of a house or building on the Fire Academy site. Sometimes even the bricklayers build a wall or two. They'll build two houses, sell one for charity and ship it off, then the other one gets set on fire for training for the Fire Department. Sometimes they have to go into the burning structure and retrieve test dummies, and then they practice techniques of putting out the fires. Since it's near the river, they can practice taking water straight out of the river as well as from the hydrants."

"Cool beans." I said. "I'm going to talk to the Fire Department about letting our SWAT team use the buildings for urban warfare training before they set them on fire. I think they'll be agreeable to it, though they likely won't let us bring any ammo, even blanks, onto the site. Well, it's a great view from here, Daniel, but let's head on to dinner."

I was on fumes, having gotten little sleep the night before, hence my suggestion to carry on to dinner. Some would think dinner with one's ex-wife would not be a good thing, but it was a very pleasant evening, and I was happy to see Melina so happy when she was with her new husband...

Part 20 - Political Persuasions

"Thank you, thank you for calling." Senator Nathan Allen said before hanging up the phone. He was in his office in Town, which was in the State Building on the north side of the Courthouse Square, right next to the Federal Building. The sun had set; it was now the night of March 3d.

"Who was that?" asked Congressman Condor, who had seen the expression on his fellow politician's face upon receiving what looked like disturbing news.

"Doesn't matter who it was." said Senator Allen dismissively, his brow furrowed as he tried to think. "What matters is what he said: the County Inspector General is about to open a secret investigation into Captain Malone. You want a drink?" Condor declined as Allen poured himself a large bourbon out of his 'cheap' decanter on the side table.

United States Representative Gerald A. Condor (Democrat),was the Member of Congress from the 1st District of the State, which covered Town & County as well as Coltrane County and Nextdoor County, i.e. the northwest sector of the State. He had a head full of medium to light brown hair, was clean shaven, in his early fifties but very fit and vigorous with handsome good looks.

He had a forced, set smile that made him seem like he was your best buddy, and serving you specially in Congress, but he definitely was more interested in his personal enrichment than in his constituents. The 'dirt' on him was that his interns were almost exclusively females, and he was alleged to have sampled some of their sexual talents and sated his considerable sexual appetite with them.

"Is that bad?" Condor asked.

"Not really, but it'll force us to speed up our timetable." replied Allen. "My God, the mess this fucking Police Lieutenant is making!"

"The Iron Crowbar has certainly made a meteoric rise in the Force." Condor said. "I think I'm going to ask him to come around the office, meet him and get to know him."

"Be my guest." Allen said, understanding. "But be careful. This guy always seems to be a step ahead of us. I've even heard that some people think he's psychic, like that bastard Eckhart that runs that 'Vision' cult in Coltrane County. Whatever it is, I'm beginning to see that Mr. Iron Crowbar is as dangerous as a rattlesnake."

"No wonder the FBI has been encouraging me to talk to him about coming on board at the Federal level."

"That'd be wonderful." said Allen. "As long as he gets the hell out of this County and this State. Well, Gerald, I better head home before the missus gets antsy. I'm looking forward to our mutual cooperation in each other's campaigns."

"As am I, Nathan, as am I." said Condor as they shook hands, not meaning it. Polls were showing that Nathan Allen's name was increasingly toxic, and Condor didn't want anything to disturb what should be an easy re-election to the U.S. House of Representatives...

---

"You have a guest in your study." Mrs. Allen informed her husband as he entered their home. She was blonde, lithe, and seemingly the perfect politicians wife: silent, supporting. Only her eyes showed the years of strain having to live this life with this man.

Going into his study, Senator Allen saw his guest sitting and waiting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Ah, why didn't you come by my office?" Allen asked, trying to sound jovial. "Want a drink?" Allen poured himself a large one.

"No thank you, and I thought it best not to be seen at your office." said the guest. "I'll get right to the point: you were warned about attacking the Iron Crowbar's family. Now he's a mad hornet, ready to sting the shit out of anything that moves. We've lost Brody and Gunn; the FBI arrested them yesterday, and after all that effort we went through to get those slugs bailed out and back in our hands! And now the Inspector General is going to look into our man on the Police Force, Captain Malone. This is becoming a disaster of unmitigated proportions, Senator."

"Well hell, I thought you guys had planned for that contingency for a long time." snorted Allen. "So now Malone takes the next step in the overall plan and we start ratcheting down the other stuff."

"That's the point, Senator: we didn't want to have to dismantle what was a really excellent operation here in the County. It was all going really smoothly, that imbecile Griswold didn't have a fucking clue what's been going on under his nose. But now the Iron Crowbar is here, and he's already taking retaliation over the attack on his family. Whoever suggested to you to do that was very, very stupid." the guest said, knowing full well that it was Allen's rash decision that had put them in this predicament.

"Okay, okay," Allen said, feigning resignation, "We were wrong about going after his family. We failed. I failed. I'm not sure why, but our plan failed. Tell you what, I'll step back and let you and your people handle it, okay?"

"Senator... it's not that easy." said the guest. "Don't get me wrong; you definitely should step back, concentrate on your election, and let us handle these issues as they crop up. But now we have to save Malone. He's the linchpin of our plans; we cannot afford any more problems. Yes, we're going to step up the timetable... and we don't want you to be active in helping him, no matter how much you think it's for the good. Your poll numbers suck, Senator, and we're having to work harder than we want to make sure you get re-elected."

"Okay, I hear you." said Allen. "Speaking of that, what are we doing about Kearns?" he asked as the guest turned to go, naming the man who was suing Nathan's son.

The guest turned back to face Allen and said "Kearns is your problem, Senator. We are not going to get involved in that. He's all yours, resolve that problem as you see fit."

Senator Allen smiled, thinking of the ways he could use his political power to crush Phil Kearns, as the guest turned and left the room...

---

"Yes sir, I understand." said Captain Harold Malone into the cell phone. "Thank you for calling." He was in the den of his comfortably furnished home, and had been reading a book before turning in for the night, when the phone had interrupted him.

He went up to the bedroom. "Madelyn, I just received a phone call. Things are going to have to move faster than we anticipated. Be ready for an announcement, probably the day after tomorrow."

"Okay, dear." the hot mature wife said. She was wearing a loose gown and high heels. She cupped one of her large breasts in offering. "Come to bed dear, wouldn't you like to suck on these for a while?"

"I would love to, dear," Captain Malone said, smiling, "but it's going to have to wait for a few minutes. I need to go for a quick ride. I'll be back in 30 minutes to an hour."

"Mmmm, you better hurry." said Madelyn, not questioning why her husband had to leave so late in the evening. She knew he'd be back soon, and that he'd plow her hot furrow into a creamy lather to make up for having to leave.

Malone went into his garage and mounted his favored motorcycle, then sped out into the streets at a fast pace. It was a powerful Harley-Davidson, and Harold Malone enjoyed long rides on it. Unfortunately, this ride was for business.

He had left his personal and police cellphones at home, and was carrying only a burner phone that was shut off and sealed in a lined box to prevent any signals from entering or exiting. He knew that he could not risk having the burner phone ping a cell tower anywhere near his home. As he rode through the streets, he remembered how the Iron Crowbar had solved those twin, seemingly unconnected murders by tricking the perps into using burner phones near their locations...

He approached a parking lot that was near the Ladies Auxiliary Clubhouse, just north of the Courthouse Square. Riding along the edge of the parking lot, he eased the bike into a copse of trees. An old railroad siding went east-west along the back end of the parking lot and Malone stopped near it. This was one of the few areas in Town known to be "dead/live": there were no cameras observing the area, but there was cellphone reception.

Malone took the burner phone out of it's container, powered it up, and made a phone call. "Yes, it's me. Tell Smith and Wesson to go dormant... yes, totally dormant... no, no more call-ups for now. Wait for my instructions, and wait for the big announcement... probably the day after tomorrow... okay, let them know."

As Malone got back onto the road, he began feeling horny in anticipation of the fuck he was going to throw into his wife when he got home...

Part 21 - Invasions of Privacy

"Okay, ladies and gentlemen, great workout this morning!" said Coach Erskine 'Iron Man' Marshall. "Captain, they're yours."

As the Cadet Captain had the ROTC Juniors fall in for the morning run after going through the Iron Man's workout routine, an older man in an Army uniform came up to Coach Marshall.

"Ah, good morning, Colonel." said the Coach, shaking the ROTC Commandant's hand as he joked "I didn't know you were here, or I'd have put you through the workout, also."

"I would've enjoyed it, too." said the Colonel. He had been in the 82d Airborne Division until his 24 consecutive years of being on active jump status was ended by damage from a hip injury. The injury also had ended his dream of being the Commander of the 82d Airborne Division, a 2-star-general post. At that point he took this 3-year ROTC command as a last stop before retirement. "Erk, I'm glad you're back with us. You're doing a fabulous job getting our guys ready for camp."

"It's always a pleasure to work with them." said Coach Marshall.

"Do you have a moment, Coach?" asked the Colonel, "I need to talk with you for a minute."

"Sure, let's go into the locker room." said Marshall. He led the way inside and the men seated themselves on benches between the rows of lockers.

"What I wanted to tell you is that we received a phone call asking about one of our former cadets, one Donald-" the colonel said. "He's a police officer up where you were last Fall, isn't he?"


"Yes he is." Marshall said. "And he's doing a hell of a job up there. Already promoted to Police Lieutenant and he's barely 30 years old."

"That's the strange thing." said the colonel. "The people calling said they were a recruiting service, and were verifying his resume for a new job he'd applied for. When the ladies in the office told me about it, I thought it was very strange."

"It does sound strange, I don't know why Don would be looking for another job." said Marshall. "What did you tell them?"

"That's where it gets even more interesting." the colonel replied. "As per policy, my secretary told them we'd have to verify the information and call them back, and asked for their number. At that point, they said they would call back later and hung up. The caller-ID said they were a company called Adler Staffing Solutions. Anyway, I know you're still in touch with the guy up there; you may want to give him a call and let him know something strange is going on."

"Thanks, Colonel, I'll sure do that." said Marshall.

---

"Hi Coach!" I said, answering my cellphone as I sat in the MCD room, discussing the Carroll/Blondie murders with my Detectives. After preliminary niceties, Coach Marshall recounted his conversation with the ROTC commandant.

"Thanks for letting me know, Coach." I said. After a few more pleasantries, we hung up.

"Everything okay?" asked Tanya Perlman. She was getting her sharp eye and quick wits back, and had observed my face during my phone conversation.

"I'm not sure." I said. "Excuse me for a moment." I headed to my tiny Lieutenant's office and dialed my wife Laura on my personal cellphone.

"Hello, Darling." I heard her say. "It's funny you called, I was literally picking up the phone to call you. I had an interesting phone call from-"

"Laura," I said, intentionally interrupting her, "let me come to your office. Let's not talk on the phone. I'll be right over."

--

Fifteen minutes later I entered my wife's office. To my surprise, Captain Britt Maxwell of the Campus Police was there, looking as beautiful as ever.

"Britt was just telling me something that is very much along the same lines as what I called you about." said Laura.

"I suspect it's the same thing or similar to what I was going to talk to you about." I said. "So who wants to go first."

"I will." said Laura. "As you know, I used to work at the University from which you and Melina graduated, Don. I came here a year after you graduated and left. One of my fellow professors of Psychology down there gave me a call this morning. She said that both the Psychology Department and the school's Records Department had received phone calls trying to verify my employment there. The callers said they were a recruiting company called 'Adler Staffing Solutions' calling to verify my resume as I was applying for a new position... which is crap."

"I got a call from Coach Marshall," I said, "who got a tip that the ROTC Department down there got a similar call about me... same recruiting company saying I was applying for a new job. Britt?"

"Guy who works in your school's Campus Police went through the Academy with me." said Britt. "He called and said that the Campus Police had been contacted by someone alleging to be the City District Attorney's Office, asking about you, Don. They asked for your address at the college."

"Did the Campus Police there give out my info?" I asked.

"No, they said they had no way to verify addresses of students who had already graduated." Britt replied. "But it gets better: the caller then they asked about Jack Burke and the rape case, saying he'd been busted and was awaiting trial in the City, and they were checking on the previous charges."

"Jack Burke is awaiting trial, eh?" I said. "I don't think an earthly Jury is going to be hearing that case... and I doubt Todd and Jeanine's baby son is going to be found guilty of anything like that for years, at least."

"There's more." said Britt, eager to move past any discussion of my nephew Todd. "In spite of what was said about your address, the caller still asked if your school's Campus Police had an address or any information for an Ivy-" I could not help my eyes shooting up to stare at Britt as she said the name, but I made sure not to look over at Laura. "They said they wanted to contact her about the Burke rape charge."

"Britt..." I said, my voice slow and introspective as the little gears in my mind started turning, "When you get back to your office, will you call and ask your friend in their Campus PD to call the Housing Department there and see if there has been any inquiries about me, Jack Burke or this Ivy person?"