Case of the Parole Officer Ch. 01

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A new case as conflict brews within the Force.
11.7k words
4.73
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 09/08/2015
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The chronological order of my stories is as follows:

Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Teresa's Summer Race, The Trilogy series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, The Phyllis Files 1-2, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Phyllis Files 3, The Hot Wives Investment Club series, Seriously Inconvenienced series, Case of the Paper Trail series, Christmas Mystery Theater, The Porno Set Mystery series, The Medical Murder Mystery series, The Eightfold Fence series, The Phyllis Files 4, Pale Morning Light series, Silverfish series, Cold As Ice series, Secrets of Apple Grove series, Sting of the Scorpion series, Reichenbach series.

Case Of The Parole Officer, Ch. 01.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

*****

Part 1 - Prologue

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the beautiful redheaded reporterette into her microphone at 7:00am sharp on Monday, June 29th. "Channel Two News is bringing you continuing coverage of the death of billionaire Henry R. Wargrave. Mr. Wargrave died a week ago, June 22d, as a result of a fall from his office window thirty floors above the ground. State Senator Katherine Woodburn has called for a more thorough investigation of Mr. Wargrave's death."

A video tape rolled of Katherine Woodburn making a speech the previous Saturday: "I am calling upon the State Bureau of Investigation to examine the death of billionaire Henry Wargrave! There are too many questions surrounding his death, and too many coverups happening! I demand answers! And if the SBI investigation shows that Mr. Wargrave's death was not a suicide but a homicide, then I demand Justice on Mr. Wargrave's behalf!" The partisan crowd cheered.

"Now why is she so into Wargrave's death?" Cindy asked me as we watched the new flat screen television/computer monitor mounted to the wall in my office, to my desk's left. To the left of the screen was a small whiteboard, closed and locked.

"You're a Troy." I said with a grin. "Well, a Michaux, anyway. You tell me, mon cousin." Cindy gave me something between a glare and a happy look, then thought about it as I watched the second clip of Katherine Woodburn saying the same things in another speech.

Cindy said "She and Wargrave worked together and were friends, from what I've heard. So she might be rightly upset that her friend died, and maybe she really does see problems in the suicide explanation."

"Why expend political capital ginning up what the City's Coroner's Inquest has already called a suicide?" I asked.

"I don't know. Any hints?" Cindy said.

"I'll give you one: it's more practical than personal." I said.

Cindy caught on. "Ohhhh... she's laying groundwork! The State news media gets all hot and bothered by her speeches, which they'll cover because she's a 'highly esteemed' State Senator. Then the SBI comes in and says 'Sure, we will investigate for you, Senator!'."

"Yes, very good." I said. "But you weren't wrong in saying Woodburn was a friend of Wargrave, so don't let me take you off the path. There's a couple of extra pieces we can add to the puzzle. Who else was a good friend of Henry Wargrave?"

"Gosh, he had many." Cindy said. "Dr. Wellman... but he would not want further publicity about Wargrave."

"True." I said. "And you just said it yourself... who would Woodburn have come and investigate?"

"The SBI." Cindy said. "But I don't know who Wargrave was tight with in the SBI."

"True enough." I replied. "So let me add even more: who was a good friend and associate of Henry Wargrave, plans to run for Governor, and was hoping for Wargrave's support in his run?"

"Oh." Cindy said. "SBI Director Jack Lewis. Molly told me a few weeks ago that the scuttlebutt is he'll announce on Labor Day weekend, and as a Democrat. Governor Jared is not planning to run again, so I don't know who the Republicans will put up against him."

"Very good." I said. "And you're right: Jack Lewis wants to open an investigation of this, and is having Katherine Woodburn gin up the press. And I'll take it further. I predict... that the SBI will open a full investigation of Wargrave's death by Thursday."

Just then there was a knock on my office door, followed by Lieutenant Tanya Perlman's cherubic face peeking in. "Sorry to break up the family conclave," she said with a grin, a reference to the recent discoveries of my and Cindy's family relationship, "but we have a report of a burglary in the Heritage Cloisters subdivision."

The Heritage Cloisters subdivision, Country Club, and golf course were by far the ritziest places in the County, occupied by the very most well-to-do citizens. Ahhh, a nice quiet political one, I thought with no small amount of acerbity.

Cindy said "Burglary or robbery? Victims present at the time?" In case you're wondering, 'burglary' is a crime that does not involve direct contact or violence with victims; in technical terms, 'robbery' requires a victim present to be held up, mugged, etc.

"No." Tanya said. "It's a burglary. They got home early this morning and discovered the crime."

Cindy said "Tell you what, give this one to Vice. They need some cross-training."

"Will do." said Tanya, withdrawing from the office.

I nodded. "Good call, Captain. I will be sure to inform the Chief of your quick and solid decision-making."

"Thanks." said Cindy. "I think I need all the help I can get with him. You sure he doesn't have something against me?"

"All I'm sure of," I said, "is that we have a crime in the wealthiest, most influential neighborhood in the County. Let's go examine it, shall we?"

Part 2 - The Crime Scene

"We went down to our vacation home in West Palm Beach," said Mr. Hamilton Myers, "and we got back we found all the silverware missing, the silver candelabra, three extremely valuable paintings, all of my antique guns, my wife's jewelry, and about $20,000 in cash from the safe in my study."

Myers was about 70 years old, with a full head of white hair, still broad-shouldered and in decent shape. His wife Erlene was once a very attractive woman but her skin was showing the effects of way too many years sunbathing, and her silver hair was a wig, if I didn't miss my guess. They were retired and wealthy residents of the County when they weren't in Florida, and were graduates of the University and therefore large contributors to the local Institution of Higher Learning.

"What about the alarm system, sir?" asked Detective (J.G.) Christopher Purvis. Purvis was extremely straight-laced, black hair, spoke in a peculiar voice, was religious but kinda weird. He was often called 'Chris Pervert' behind his back, though he had no particular perversions of which I was aware.

"I am absolutely sure that my wife set it before we left last week." said Myers. "The staff was given time off with pay for vacation time, and they don't know the codes."

As Purvis continued to talk with Myers and his wife, Lieutenant Teresa Croyle was watching the Crime Lab technicians at work. I came up to her.

"Whaddya got, Croyle?" I asked.

"Nothing yet, Commander." replied Teresa 'Cunt'. She was not in a very good mood, as the unexpected case assignment had interrupted the Vice Division's morning coffee time. "I do have a request of you, sir: the new electronics technician, Mark Walker, is looking at the alarm. He's relatively new, and I know you're an expert on that stuff, sir..."

"Okay, I'll go scare the living bejesus out of the new guy for you." I said. "By the way, Lieutenant, I need not tell you that the Myerses are wealthy and influential with the politicians and University brass, so make sure everyone looks and acts their professional best."

"Roger that, sir." said Teresa. "Purvis is a nerd, but he's the most outwardly professional of my bunch, save for Julie Newton. The Crime Lab people are the best, as always."

"Yes, they are." I said as I walked out of the study. I found Technician Walker using an electronic device on the alarm.

"Technician Walker, I'm Commander Troy." I said. "Welcome to the TCPD Crime Lab team. What do you have for me?"

"Oh, hello sir." he said, shaking my hand. "It looks like this system was defeated by a shunt here." He pointed to a spot on the electronics board. "The way this works is---"

"Yes," I said, interrupting, "I know the basics of it. So he shunted it in the 30 seconds he had while the alarm was awaiting the keycode to shut it off. This is a Williams Brothers alarm system; that's one of its two weaknesses. Make a notation so we can notify the company of their continued failure to fix those weaknesses."

"Uh, yes sir." said Walker, looking at me strangely.

"Also, this alarm system should leave a record of it being activated and deactivated, either within the house or with an alarm company. We'll need those printouts. The shunt should cause an entry to be made when it was put on and when it was taken off."

"It's with an alarm company that services the subdivision." said Walker. "I've already told Sergeant Irwin about it, and he's contacting them."

"Great. Keep up the good work." I said. I went back into the study.

"No prints, except for Mr. Myers's." said Teresa. "So far, anyway. We did check the alarm panel for prints before letting Walker into it; no joy there. We're checking around the frames of the paintings that were cut out, and the drawers where the silverware was and the cabinets where the antique guns were, and around the safe..."

"I'll be pleasantly stunned if they find any." I said. "I'm sure someone is getting an inventory of the guns stolen?"

"Absolutely." said Teresa. "First thing I asked Mr. Myers for, and I'll be contacting the FBI and SBI myself about them."

"Good." I said. "So, Croyle, what's your analysis?"

"You won't take 'not enough data yet', will you?" Teresa asked.

"As a matter of fact, I will." I said. "And it was exactly what I wanted to hear. Carry on. I only have a few questions for the Myerses, and I'll be on my way and out of your hair. Come with me."

With Teresa in tow, I went up to Mr. Myers and introduced myself. "Sir," I said, "was the alarm active when you got home? Did you enter the code to shut it off?"

"Er, yes, yes I did." said Myers.

"Good. Let me also ask..." I said, "... you have many more than three very valuable paintings here, including that Greuze in your study. Why would the burglar take the three that he took?"

"I... I have no idea." said Myers. "The Greuze is a replica, though." He then described the three missing paintings, all water- or sea-related paintings by an artist that had died two years before. Myers had acquired the paintings several years before, and at different times at art exhibits while the artist was still alive.

"Were the paintings insured?" I asked.

"Yes," said Myers, "but not for what they were truly worth. I also had insured two others in my office and one at our home in Florida. The silverware is covered as part of the overall house coverage, and the guns had a rider on that coverage."

"Did any of your staff know the value of these paintings or the guns?" I asked.

"I doubt it." said Myers. "I don't recall ever discussing their value with anyone but my wife and my insurance agent. I bought the paintings, as well as the ones remaining here, because I liked them for the house, not as a financial investment. As to the guns, I used to do a lot of cowboy action shooting, and I picked up pieces from time to time. I never really discussed which ones were the antiques and which ones were more modern replicas, and therefore less valuable."

"What about the cash and jewelry in the safe?" I asked. "Who knew about that? And who knew the code to the safe?"

"Only my wife and myself." said Myers. "The combination is sealed in an envelope with my attorney, who will be executor of my will when that time comes. I almost never get into that safe, though. The staff might not have even been aware it was there behind the Greuze."

"I see. Thank you, sir." I said. "If you have any questions, Lt. Croyle here is an exceptionally capable Detective. We'll let you know what we find as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Commander." said Myers. I could see that Teresa appreciated my compliments of her.

"By the way, where is your wife?" I asked.

"She's in the kitchen, drinking tea to calm her nerves." said Teresa. "Do you need to talk with her, Commander?"

"I'll just say hello to her. You go ahead and get everyone to get wrapped up." I said. I suited the deed to the word and went into the kitchen, where Mrs. Myers was talking with Officer Lydia Green.

"Hello, Mrs. Myers," I said. "I'm Commander Troy. I'm sorry for your losses."

"Thank you." said Erlene Myers, her eyes seeming to take sneak peeks at me. Seeing that I'd noticed, she said "So you are the Iron Crowbar. Such a young man to have done so much."

"Thank you, ma'am." I said as I observed the woman. "I only have a few questions for you. First, has any of your staff been recently let go, or recently hired?"

"Your people asked me that already." said Mrs. Myers. "And the answer is that we've had no recent hirings or firings. The staff at this home have been with us for three years or more, all of them."

"I see." I said. "And I apologize for any redundancy in the questions. Let me ask: who did you tell that you were going to Florida this past week?"

"Oh my goodness." said Erlene, thinking. "All of my friends at the club. We play contract bridge tournaments every Wednesday while our husbands play golf, so I had to tell them I wouldn't be there. We go to Florida several times a year, often for weeks at a time during the winter, as do the other ladies, so there's nothing unusual about this time."

"And no one had the alarm codes to the house?" I asked. "You didn't have someone stay and babysit?"

"Oh no," said Erlene, "the Cloisters is gated with a guard at all times, probably off duty police officers. The house had the alarm system, which we were assured was the very best money could buy. And no one but Mr. Myers and myself knew the code."

"Oh, not even a friend in case you needed urgent help?" I asked.

"If we needed help, then tripping the alarm would be the best thing to happen." Mrs. Myers said.

"Yes, that's certainly true, ma'am." I said, smiling my most charming smile. "So do you have any idea why the thief or thieves wouldn't have stolen more of the paintings?"

Erlene glanced around, then said "It appears that they took the most valuable ones. Hamilton was always talking about those sea paintings, and how much he liked them. He said they might be worth something if the artist ever died, but the artist wasn't that old. And then the artist did die, but I don't think Hamilton was concerned about their increased value. He just liked the paintings, like he liked his little cowboy guns."

"I see." I said. "Do you think any of your staff overheard him talking about the value of the paintings, or the guns, or the jewelry? Or maybe the cash in the safe?"

"I doubt it." Erlene said. "He talked about the paintings, but more as if he were talking about a favored dog. Do you like dogs, Commander?"

"I love 'em." I said. "I've got a great rescue dog at home."

"Good." said Erlene. "My favorite charities are the ones that rescue dogs and find them good homes." After a brief pause, she said "Is there anything else you need, Commander?"

"No, ma'am." I said. "I appreciate you taking the time to answer my questions. My Team will be working diligently on your case, and if there's anything you can think of that might help us, please give Lt. Croyle a call."

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

Walking outside, I saw Captain Ross examining the grounds with several uniformed officers. She peered at me as I walked up.

"Where's your crowbar?" Cindy asked.

"In my SUV." I said. "Perps need to see it. The average citizens like to see it. The people that live here?" I let my hand sweep around to mean the subdivision. "They don't give a rat's ass about it, nor anything not in their social circle. So no point in carrying it."

Cindy laughed. "Thanks for telling me." she said sarcastically, exhibiting the Blue Crowbar.

"And what is the Blue Crowbar telling you about this case?" I asked.

"Not a thing." Cindy said. "We've got no footprints or traces anywhere. No windows or doors forced. We're going to have officers canvas the homes with any visibility to this house to see if any vans or trucks drove up, anything out of the ordinary. Teresa had someone contact the subdivision property managers to get all the names of the guards at all the gates. Some of them are TCPD and do this job off-duty."

"Cool beans." I said. "So, any ideas?"

"No data yet, Mr. Holmes." Cindy said with alacrity. My people were learning, my people were learning, I thought happily.

I lowered my voice. "Here's a piece of data, and for your ears alone, Crowbar 2: that Greuze that the safe is behind? The one Mr. Myers said was a replica?"

"What about it?"

"I'm not the biggest art expert in the world," I said, "but I'd bet a paycheck that it's not a replica, but the real thing."

"And... and the thieves left it there?" Cindy practically gasped.

"Yep." I said. "A strangeness, n'est pas?" Just then I received a text on my police cellphone. It was Jack Muscone. I replied that I was on an important case and would meet with him and his boss later that evening.

Cindy was looking around. "You know, Don," she said quietly, "I've never thought much about having money, having a lot of it. I've never wanted big, ostentatious houses like these, or fancy cars and such. I've never seen the point, and I don't care about 'keeping up with the Joneses'. But now... well, one day in the future I might be inheriting a lot of money when my father, Dr. Eckhart, dies, and I'm not going to know what to do with it. I do know this, though... I don't care to live in this subdivision. It's giving me a vibe... a bad vibe."

I smiled. "I hear you." I replied. "I've never been one to want to show off wealth if I had it, either. There's a line in the book 'Atlas Shrugged' where Midas Mulligan used his wealth for selection instead of accumulation, and he used it for comfort more than showing off. That's me: I rebuilt the Cabin to be as comfortable and convenient to me as possible, not giving a damn what others thought about it."

Cindy smiled. "Yeah, but it still looks good. Anyway, the bridge club will just have to do without me, I guess. I'm sure they'll be devastated."

"Their loss." I said. "Okay, I need to go back to my car for a minute."

"Why?"

"To get my crowbar." I said. "I like having it with me, and why should I give a damn if these people give a damn or not?" I heard Cindy laughing out loud as I went to fetch it.

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

At 3:00pm the meeting convened in Classroom 'C', Vice's classroom behind their room and next door to MCD's Classroom 'E'. Present were: Chief Bennett at the head of the table, Lt. Teresa Croyle at the far end, Detective Christopher Purvis, Detective Julie Newton, Data Specialist Sonali, the Crime Lab's J.R. Barnes, Sergeant Irwin, Lieutenant Tanya Perlman, Captain Cindy Ross, and myself, Your Iron Crowbar. I was sitting to the Chief's immediate left.