Case of the Murdered Bride Ch. 03

"True enough." said Cindy. "I might have him take one, anyway."

"Let's hold off on that." said the Chief. "We can re-interview him, and under a polygraph, and see if he's consistent. But before we do, I want to know from the Commander what he thinks... what's going to crack this case, Crowbar? Besides a crowbar, of course. At least tell us who your suspects are."

Wow, they were pushing, I thought as I spoke: "We have five suspects. The first is the late Tom Rollins, which means we're actually searching for his murderer now. But if both were killed by the same person, then we have these four candidates: the cabbie that was admittedly with Diane Lang just before she was murdered; Larry Lang, if we can find him; Keith Atkins, who just seems to have these connecting strings to so many of the other names; and perhaps Mr. Blair, who I am convinced is covering for Larry Lang right now."

"The problem here..." I said, "... is going to be getting the proof we need, proof that will stand up in Court. It's not nearly enough to suspect, or even know, what happened. We have to give Paulina what she needs to prove it to a jury. We simply aren't there yet, but I think I know where to start:"

"Paulina," I said, turning my attention to the gorgeous black Assistant District Attorney, "I need a warrant. It's on a pretty thin basis, though." I explained what I wanted, causing gasps among my Detectives.

"I'll go to Judge Watts' house if I need to." said Paulina. "He's very amenable to your hunches. Just make sure that you never blow that and leave him hanging..."

Part 16 - Liaisons

"Well, that meeting went fairly well." said Dr. Sidney P. Wellman, president of the University, in his office as he poured a couple of drinks for himself and his guest.

"Yes, it did." said University Trustee Henry R. Wargrave, billionaire and by far the biggest contributor to the School and its various programs. "It was a shame to hear about Tom Rollins, though."

"Yes." said Wellman. The news of Rollins death was not yet public, and was under embargo with the Media until 11:00pm thanks to a request from the Police Commander. But powerful men find out things quickly, and both Wellman and Wargrave were powerful men: they heard about it immediately, from different sources, upon the body being delivered to the morgue for an autopsy.

"Have you talked to Tom Riordan yet?" asked Wellman. "I understand he and his wife were friends of the Rollins."

"Not yet." said Wargrave. "He and his wife are at a private party tonight. I'll contact him tomorrow."

"Good enough." said Wellman. "So, do you think we have any chance of beating the Iron Crowbar's Wildcats in a few weeks?"

"Harrumph!" Wargrave grunted. "We'll be lucky if they don't whip us by 35 points or more. They're undefeated, we're 2-4 and lucky to be that. I think Bronson will be a good head coach, but with Harlan sick and all, the team is really in disarray."

"Nick Eastwood has fallen off the pace, also." said Wellman. "He was a strong Heisman contender last year, but while he's doing his best, his numbers are way down."

"That's because his wide receivers suck, so sorry." said Wargrave. "Losing Coach Speedy Gonzalez really, really hurt us there. Another consequence of the Iron Crowbar's actions..."

"Well, Henry, we can't blame the Commander for that one, and Gonzalez was the PED-pusher. How much worse that might've been if the Iron Crowbar hadn't driven him out."

Wargrave sighed, wanting to blame the Iron Crowbar for every bad thing in the world, but knowing President Wellman was correct. "True enough. Nick Eastwood still might be a high draft choice, but he's definitely not able to do as much as he did last year..."

-----------------------------

"Oh GOD, Nick! Yes! Fuck me with that big cock! FUCK ME!!" shouted Janet Riordan as Nick Eastwood drove his cock down into the beautiful redhead with all the power he could muster. Janet was a short woman and Nick was tall, but she was not only accommodating his nine inches, she was fucking back at him, seeming to want even more.

The rutting couple fucked furiously in Janet's bed in the Riordan's home on the Reservoir Lake, the same bed upon which Iron Crowbar had all but raped Janet over a year before. Janet wasn't thinking about anything but the handsome young blonde stud that was slamming his big, hard meat into her with gusto.

Tom Riordan sat in a chair in the corner of the room, his cock throbbing as he watched his wife being sexually pummeled by the young, muscular Eastwood's massive prick. And his cock was not just throbbing due to the sight in front of him; his own cock was being ravenously sucked by the beautiful blonde University cheerleader that Nick had brought with him.

In addition to being a varsity cheerleader, the young woman had a 3.8 GPS in pre-med biomedicine, she was the Vice Chair of the Student Council, chairwoman of the Student Honors Council, and the president of the Phi Mu sorority. Her long blonde hair fell down her back in gentle waves and her large breasts jiggled as she ravenously fellated Tom Riordan's meat. Though few people realized it, she was nearly as insatiable as Karen Warner, though she hid it while Karen had all but advertised it.

As the blonde moaned around Tom's cock, Janet moaned and grunted as Nick furiously pumped her. She was one of his absolute favorite pieces of ass, Nick thought, though he believed that when he got the chance to sample Dr. Laura Fredricson's tremendous talents, he'd find her (Laura) to be even better. The thought of Laura Fredricson and her legs and feet spurred Nick on to fuck Janet even more furiously--

*BRING!!* *BRING!!* *BRING!!*

It was Tom Riordan's cell phone, sitting on the table next to the chair in which he was sitting. He saw the number and knew he had to answer it.

"Excuse me a moment, honey." he said to the blonde. Quickly walking naked into the hallway, he answered it.

"Oh my god." he said. "What happened?--- just tonight?--- yeah, we'll be right there." He hung up and re-entered the bedroom.

"Janet, we've got to go. Tom Rollins was found dead late this afternoon." Tom said.

"Oh that's sad..." said Janet, "... but I'm not stopping now."

"Dammit, bitch, didn't you hear me?" Tom said angrily, nearly shouting. "Tom Rollins is dead! We need to go see his wife, right now!"

"Fuck you, asshole!" Janet almost screamed, giving her husband a look that could only be described as 'ugly' on the woman's beautiful face. "I'm not going anywhere until Nick has climaxed at least twice! Come on, Nick, put that big cock back in my hole and start fucking me!"

"Jesus Christ, bitch!--" Tom said, then gave up. He headed to the shower, leaving his wife to fuck the college students. When he got out of the shower, he found that Nick was still pumping Janet, and the beautiful blonde was sitting on Janet's face. Janet could eat pussy with the best of them, and the blonde was moaning in pleasure as Janet's tongue explored her honey-hole. Nick was sucking the blonde's big tits as he pumped Janet, just beginning to feel his nut rise as he worked toward his first climax of the evening...

-----------------------------

Leaving Dr. Wellman's office, Henry Wargrave drove to his home in The Heritage Cloister subdivision, home of the most exclusive homes and Country and Golf Club in the County... really the most exclusive anywhere in the northwestern part of the State. He did not really know the Rollins, and so did not do what Tom Riordan was doing in visiting the widow. He headed home.

"Hello, dear." his wife Lilly said as he entered the large den of his home, seeing blackness outside the window as the sun had just set. "How was your day?"

"It was okay, except that a Mr. Tom Rollins was found dead today." said Wargrave. "He was a friend of our friends Tom and Janet Riordan."

"Oh, that's so sad." Lilly said. "I'll be sure to send some flowers in the morning."

"That's very kind of you dear." Henry said. He looked over at his wife. Her hair was reddish-blonde, kept short around her face and head, and she was still very attractive. She was lithe, very slender, her tall height exacerbating her thin look. Her legs were long but very shapely, and her feet were very exquisite, as much as Laura Fredricson's in Henry's perhaps-biased opinion. She was wearing a tight, clingy blue dressed that really went well with her red hair and skin.

Wargrave felt the pangs of desire in his loins, but his penis simply wouldn't respond. Not even drugs could help him get an erection anymore, and Dr. Fredricson's psychological help was also exhausted in getting a response from him. He had over two billion dollars in his bank accounts, but not a dime of it could give him a true hard-on so that he could fuck his wife or his beautiful secretary, or any other of the many women that openly flirted with him at parties and social events.

"You look lovely tonight, dear." he said. "Why don't we go on up to bed?"

"Why certainly, dear." said Lilly. They went upstairs to the master bedroom, which was simply furnished but with the best furniture and bedding that money could buy. Wargrave chose to spend his money in quality and excellence as opposed to quantity of things bought.

The couple kissed deeply as they removed each other's clothes, except Lilly kept her high heel sandals on like she knew her husband wanted. She got onto the bed, lying on her back, and spreading her legs wide.

Wargrave settled between his wife's legs and began eating her pussy. Lilly's pussy was sweet and tasty, her labia large and bulging when engorged with blood. Henry might not be able to get it up, but he could sure taste his wife's juicy wetness as he lapped her cunt like a starved dog.

"Oh yes... oh yes.... oh yes..." Lilly moaned, her eyes closed. She loved her husband and she understood his medical condition, one that caused him more angst and pain than it did her. Still, the thought of a large, hard, erect cock sinking into her, probing her sweet cuntal depths, flooded her mind. She craved being penetrated and stretched by a hung stud, getting what her husband could no longer give her. As she thought about being fucked by a hard cock, by a real man, she climaxed hotly, her copious juices soaking Henry's face as he hungrily ate her.

---------------------------

Long moments later, Wargrave and his wife were cuddling when he asked "Do you want me to put on the strap-on and fuck you?"

"Mmmm, that's okay dear, not tonight." Lilly said. "You ate me sooooo well.... I came so many times!"

--------------------------

Janet Riordan was dozing between Nick and his blonde girlfriend, her sensational ass pressed into his hard, muscular groin and abs, feeling the blonde's ass pushing against her tummy and groin. Nick had come twice inside Janet's pussy, and both times the blonde had voraciously sucked Nick's large load from Janet's twat, cleaning her up with intense oral passion. Janet had cleaned Nick's cock with her own mouth.

Tom Riordan came back inside the bedroom, seeing the sleeping threesome. Anger welled up through him; he'd had to comfort Tom Rollins's distraught wife, though many others were there as well, and Janet had not even deigned to be there with him. He left the room and went to sleep in the guest room...

Part 17 - Consolidation of the Objective

At 10:00pm, still on October 12th, Senior Patrolman Micah Rudistan and Patrolman Morton knocked on the door to Mr. Blair's house. Blair answered. "Can I help you, officers?"

"Mr. Blair, we'd like to ask you a few questions about the Lang case." Rudistan said jovially, the mischievous perma-smile on his face.

"Now?" said Blair.

"Yes sir, it'll only take a few minutes." said Rudistan. "May we come in?"

"Uh, tell you what..." said Blair. "...why don't I come to the Station with you guys, and we can talk there?"

"Is something the matter, Mr. Blair?" a voice called out. Blair looked out to see a tall police officer approaching, wearing a full-brim hat; a light trenchcoat which contained light body armor and was worn over his civilian clothes, and which had silver oak-leaf-clusters on the shoulder epaulettes. Then Blair saw the unmistakeable form of a red crowbar in the man's right hand. "Is there some reason we can't talk here?" I asked.

"Uh, well, if you want to talk outside here, I guess we can. Maybe in your vehicle." said Blair.

"So you won't invite us in, Mr. Blair?"

Blair finally turned testy. "No, Commander, you are not invited into my home, and you cannot enter my home without a warrant. I'm trying to be cooperative, but I know my rights, and I don't want the police in my home... at all."

"I can certainly understand why not." I said, peering straight into Blair's eyes. I took a piece of folded paper out of the inner pocket of my light trenchcoat. "But here is the warrant that you're expecting, Mr. Blair. It gives us the right to enter your home and search for the one thing we need.... in order to execute this second warrant, which is a material witness arrest warrant."

Blair looked worried as I stepped past him, and inside. Cindy Ross had come out of the shadows and followed me inside while Rudistan and Morton stayed with Blair on the front steps. Cindy and I had guns drawn as we cleared each room, one at a time.

"MR. LANG!!" I shouted. "I KNOW YOU'RE HERE! COME ON OUT!" Not hearing anything, we began clearing more rooms. Upstairs, I shouted again, "MR. LANG, I KNOW YOU ARE HERE. WE WILL TEAR THIS PLACE TO MATCHSTICKS IF WE HAVE TO, BUT WE WILL FIND YOU!"

Finally, a closet to a back bedroom upstairs opened... and out walked the handsome salesman, Larry Lang. He was unarmed, and showing his hands. "Am I under arrest?"

"Mr. Lang," I said, "I have a material witness warrant to bring you to Police Headquarters. And you just tried to hide from Police. So yes, you are under arrest, and you are coming with us. Lt. Ross..."

Cindy came forward and handcuffed Lang, reading him his rights as she escorted him out of the room.

I came out the front door behind them. "Mr. Rudistan, take Mr. Blair into custody. Cuff him, and read him his rights."

"On what charge?" demanded Blair.

"Lying to police, for openers." I said. "Harboring a fugitive from justice, for another. Move him out, Rudistan."

"With pleasure, Commander." said Rudistan, ever jovial. "Mr. Blair, you have the right to remain silent..."

I called in on the police radio. "Have Johnson and Hicks bring Atkins to the Station. Under arrest if need be..."

----------------------------------

It was nearly midnight, the long October 12th becoming the morning of October 13th. The two men had been processed, cheek swabs for DNA obtained. They both had demanded lawyers and had been allowed to call them. Lang was in Interrogation-1 and Blair in Interrogation-2, both with their legal representation, awaiting questioning. Keith Atkins had been brought in, but not processed; he was half-asleep, waiting in Interrogation Alpha with Patrolman Johnson watching over him.

"Damn, Crowbar, Muscone is right." said the Chief when the two men were first brought in. "If you'd lived 400 years ago, they'd have burned your ass at the stake. How in the hell did you know Blair was hiding Lang?"

"It just made sense." I said. "When we first interviewed Blair, I realized he knew more than he was telling, and that his answers were trying to cover for Lang and keep the swinger information from getting out. Then a C.I. told me that Blair and the Langs have a close relationship, not to mention that Larry and Blair took vacations together. Lang hadn't been found in a few days, and in this age of Government surveillance everywhere, it's increasingly hard to travel totally unobserved. Ergo, Lang was still in the County somewhere, and the best hiding place would be with Blair instead of his own ransacked home..."

-------------------------------

I was watching Martin Nash and Lorena Rose interview Larry Lang in Interrogation-1. He had his lawyer present, but had not yet invoked, though the first words out of his mouth were that he reserved the right to invoke at any time.

I was leaving Blair and his lawyer in their room, alone, on purpose. The lawyer had twice called the Duty Desk, demanding to either be interrogated or that Mr. Blair be released. The Duty Desk said that Blair was under arrest and would stay where he was "until the Commander decides to talk to him." Meanwhile, I listened to Lang's interrogation:

"So you and Blair were going on a fishing trip to Lake Amengi-Nunagen." said Nash.

"Yeah." said Lang, sitting up straight, and I noticed that Lorena Rose was a bit smitten by his handsomeness. "We left the afternoon of the 9th."

"And you came back late that night?" Nash said.

"Yes." said Lang. "Blair got a call that Diane was dead, murdered, and the police were crawling all over my house. I wanted to go straight back, but Blair said that I'd be arrested for the murder if I did. I was feeling panicky, so we drove back to Blair's house, and he had me stay there until things calmed down and it would be a better time for me to turn myself in... hopefully after the murderer was caught. What he said made sense, so I did what he said."

Lang would say nothing more about his wife, though, saying he did not know what had happened and had nothing to say about their past sexual activities. It was time to utilize a verbal crowbar to pry out the truth.

"Detective Rose," I said, entering the room, "why don't you go get a cup of coffee, and wait outside for a few minutes?" Lorena nodded and left the room. I took the seat she'd just vacated.

"Mr. Lang, my name is Commander Troy." I said. "It is very late, and I know that we all want to get this cleared up, and get to the real murderer of your wife. So I need your answers, your truthful answers. But if you go off the straight-and-narrow path with me, I'll bury you."

"Commander, I must ask you to stop intimidating and threatening my client." said the legal beagle. I knew from that statement that he was a good and experienced attorney, and I'd have to walk the straight-and-narrow, myself.

"I can assure you, counselor," I said, "that I am not trying to intimidate your client, and that I mean what I said. Mr. Lang, I know, and for a provable fact, that you and your wife were swingers. Is that not so, Mr. Lang?"

Lang looked at his lawyer, who asked for five minutes to talk to his client. After the allotted time, Nash and I were back.

"Okay," said Lang, "to answer your last question: yes, we were swingers. Yes, we did the bride-and-groom thing every couple of months. Yes, sometimes Diane did it with Tom Rollins or with other men as the grooms, while I was on a fishing or hunting vacation. I knew all about those, it was all good."

"So, Mr. Lang, who do you think killed your wife?" I asked.

"I have no idea, unless it was the cabbie they picked up." said Lang. "Tom Rollins was a good guy. My wife and I had played with him and his wife several times. Diane liked having sex with him. She trusted him, definitely enough to be her groom, which was also her bodyguard of sorts when she picked up other men that she didn't know."

"Do you know a Keith Atkins, Mr. Lang?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah," said Lang, obviously surprised to hear the name, "he was a sales rep with Lightsource. He had some trouble with Jessica Savage, and they asked him to resign."

"Did Atkins ever party with you or your wife?" I asked.

"No." Lang said. "My wife didn't think much of him. He wanted to be in our swinger group, but she didn't want him there."

"What about you, Mr. Lang?" I asked. "You didn't want Mr. Atkins in your group?"

"Actually, I would've had no problem with it." Lang said. "We had lunch a few times, and he gave me a DVD of him fucking a couple of women. He was good in bed, and some of the single women he dated confirmed that with me. I thought the ladies in our group would enjoy him. But some of them, my wife included, thought he was a bit pushy. That's what kills a lot of guys in this lifestyle... the women think they're too pushy. There was this guy once, his name was Robert Schelle--"