Case of the Parole Officer Ch. 01

"Okay, Lt. Croyle," said the Chief. "Tell us what your group has. Keep it short and simple."

"Yes sir." said Teresa. "First, I'll talk about the victims and their deep background. Hamilton and Erlene Myers have been married 45 years, no children. He was an insurance salesman and made enough money to invest in the bond markets. Over time, he leveraged bonds to the tune of making about 200 million dollars. He retired about nine years ago. His wife is originally from Florida and he has a boat down there, not quite a big-time yacht but nice enough. He likes to play golf; hence, his membership in the Heritage Cloisters Country Club.

Teresa continued: "His wife Erlene graduated from college--"

"Excuse me, Lieutenant," said Chief Bennett, interrupting. "Do we really need to know the background this far back?"

"Yes sir, we do." I replied, cutting in as I looked at the Chief. "This information could be very essential to the case of why they were chosen to be burgled." I nodded to Teresa, whose look of gratitude towards me overcame her look of anger at the Chief for interrupting her. I might add that one Captain Ross had a similar look on her ruggedly pretty features.

Teresa continued: "Mrs. Myers's degree was in Fine Arts. She met Mr. Myers at an art exhibit at the City Art Museum. She likes to swim and to sunbathe, and she played some golf and some tennis until the aches and pains of age limited her athleticism. Now her biggest hobbies are contract bridge at the club every Wednesday, and the 'Social Circuit'. She and Sally Wellman, wife of the University President, are pretty good friends, and she assists Mrs. Wellman with University-related social occasions often... well, at least when big money donors are involved, from what I gathered."

The Chief was getting very fidgety and uncomfortable with what were to him mundane details. Fortunately, Teresa was getting to the present:

"Coming up to the crime: the Myerses have lived in the Heritage Cloisters subdivision since it was built some fifteen years ago. They often go to Florida, in fact they practically live there in the winter months. They left for a week down there eight days ago."

Teresa consulted some notes, then said: "The alarm logs suggest the alarm was deactivated Wednesday night about 9:00pm, just after sunset. It was reset about an hour later, at 9:58pm. Sgt. Irwin, what do you have on the neighbors?"

Sergeant Irwin said "Neighbors noted a 'Home Freight Delivery' truck come to the house Wednesday evening, but no one saw it leave. The guard at the front gate dutifully logged the in and out times for the truck, but said he didn't remember any details about it."

Teresa said "I'm sure the Commander will be interested in the gate guard's name: TCPD Patrol Officer Justin Hendricks."

"Yes, I am indeed interested in that." I said, sitting up straight. "You've interviewed him?"

"I did." piped up Detective Purvis. "He barely remembered the truck at all, said they get deliveries there in the evenings all the time because they sleep late in that subdivision and don't want morning deliveries. He also said that some deliveries might be worth a lot of money, so they deliver when the occupants are most likely to be at home."

"That makes sense." said Chief Bennett.

"Purvis, what is Hendricks's full schedule working at the Heritage Cloisters? What days and hours is he there?" I asked.

"Uhh..." Purvis said, then became red-faced. "Sorry sir, I don't have that information."

"Someone needs to get that information, Lt. Croyle." I said to the Vice Squad Lieutenant, who was responsible for her people's failures, and she knew it. She wasn't happy, and she glared at Purvis.

"We'll get that information very quickly, Commander. Sergeant Irwin, will you handle that?" Croyle said. Irwin said he would, then I then told Teresa to continue with her case information.

Teresa said "The items stolen include all of the silverware, which was in a locked lowboy in the dining room. The lock was a simple one and easily picked. The value of the silver is in the tens of thousands of dollars. Also, all of the jewelry from the jewelry box in the bedroom and in the safe, and we're not sure of the exact value of the gems. There was $20,000 in cash in the safe; that was taken. Then there's the guns--"

"Let me ask before you go on." I said, interrupting. "How was the safe opened?"

J.R. Barnes said "It looks like the perp may or may not have had a device that could read the combination. It was an electronic numeric-entry keypad device. There was no evidence of the safe being forced or jimmied open."

"So that excludes you as a suspect, Commander." Teresa said, a tiny gleam of amusement in her eyes. I laughed, which was tepidly joined by everyone... except the Chief.

"And the paintings and guns?" I asked, wondering why the Chief was in such a mood.

"Three paintings, cut out of their frames which were bolted to the walls." Teresa reported. "Mr. Myers said he bought them from an artist..." She looked at a paper and named the artist's name; I'd never heard the name. "Myers said he paid a total of about $70,000 for the three works. The artist gained some level of fame, then died suddenly in the City at the age of forty-three. Myers said those works might fetch between half a million and a million dollars each now."

"Good grief, I'm in the wrong profession." Cindy Ross said. "I should've taken up painting."

"You have to die for your paintings to become worth something, and I prefer you alive and working with me." I said. "And the guns, Croyle?"

"Mostly antique revolvers, some shotguns." Teresa said. "Some were from the 19th century and would be worth a good bit at auction, while others were more modern. Mr. Myers said he used all of them at various times in his cowboy shooting competitions, and bought the antiques at various times when they became available, sometimes from estate sales. Again, he didn't seem to care about the value of the pieces as much as using them."

"Okay, this is for anyone who talked to him: how did Mr. Myers feel about losing his paintings and guns?" I asked.

"Come to think of it," said Purvis, "he didn't seem to be too upset about any of it. Quiet and even about it."

"I agree, sir." said Sergeant Irwin. "He wasn't indifferent, but he seemed to be rolling with it, taking it in stride."

"Yes." said Teresa. "He didn't seem to be overly bothered or emotional about the value of the stolen items. Maybe a bit disappointed about not having the paintings on his wall any more."

"Good. Good observations by all of you." I said. "Any sign of forced entry into the home?" Teresa looked at the Crime Lab technician.

"No sir." said J.R. Barnes. "Not that we could find. The door inside the garage to the home was left unlocked, according to both Mr. and Mrs. Myers. We think the outer door to the garage may have been left unlocked, then the perp locked it when he left. There are a lot of faint footprints in the garage that showed up under the UV light, some dust being moved around. Some of the footprints are tennis shoes that do not match anything the Myerses own."

Teresa picked it back up, seeing that the Chief was again restless. She said "Julie and Sonali are running data. Julie is looking into the Myers's finances, and Sonali is looking for matches of the 'M-O's with this case. Sonali?"

"Yes ma'am." said Sonali, speaking good English but with an Indian accent, since her parents were immigrants from India. "I'm searching for art thieves as well as fencers household valuables, and criminals that use delivery trucks to enter neighborhoods and homes. Detective Newton is inquiring with the FBI and contacting art auction houses, and I sent an alert to all the pawn shops in this State and the ones adjoining ours. So far, nothing has come up."

Teresa said "I've contacted the SBI, FBI, and any points of contact necessary about the antique guns so that they'll be on the lookout."

I said "That's good... but Sonali, add something to your search. Search for a criminal that disables alarms with electronic shunts, someone with good knowledge of alarm systems." Sonali made a note of that. I said "Newton, anything on the finances?"

"Not yet." said Julie "The Abacus" Newton, who was a wizard at accounting, book keeping, money laundering, tax evasion, and whatever else I could think of that involved criminal money flows. She was invaluable to us in that capacity.

She continued: "The Myerses have no debt at all. Two homes, one here, one in the West Palm Beach, Florida area. He owns a boat, fully paid for. Since he's retired, he's not leveraged in anything. He took his money out of almost every investment brokerage about five years ago, only having two accounts holding literally all of his money, which are set up as trusts and paying monthly amount and his various automatic bills, such as the boat dock in Florida. Nothing strange in his transactions, so far, but I've just begun checking."

"Anything else?" asked the Chief. "Ready to solve this one, Commander?"

"I think today will be Sonali's day to shine." I said. "When she gets the 'M-O' of the perp and some names. Anything else, Lt. Croyle?" I asked.

"No sir." said Teresa. "Purvis? Irwin?" Neither had anything to add.

The Chief dismissed us all, being the first to leave, and quickly. I said to Teresa, "Croyle, my office." She followed me into my office, as did Cindy.

"I'm sorry about Purvis not being prepared--" Teresa started as I pointed for her to sit down in a chair and Cindy in the other. I stopped her.

"Don't worry about it." I said. "He just learned, if the hard way. Reinforce it, but remember to bring him back to the lure and compliment him on the good work he has done. But do find out about Hendricks's schedule, confirm it with the security company for the Heritage Cloisters."

"Yes sir." Teresa said.

"And one other thing." I said. "I know you told Julie to do this, but I want you to follow up with the auction houses, pawnshops, any places where the loot could be pawned or fenced. I'm sure Julie is doing it, but I want redundancy there. Go ahead and do that now." Teresa acknowledged the instructions, and left.

"So, Cindy," I said, "what do you think, now that you have some data?"

"You know" Cindy said, her face looking perplexed. "There is something wrong, something out of place here. But I can't quite place my finger on it. I re-read all the case notes of all the officers at the scene before going into the meeting, and I don't see it... but something just is not right."

"Like what?" I asked, peering at Cindy.

"Like... well, like that question you asked. Mr. Myers isn't acting like I'd expect a man to act who'd just lost his favorite paintings, his favorite guns, his house violated..."

"Yes, that's true." I said. "He did seem very calm about it all. And there's something you may not have seen: when I questioned him, I brought up his Greuze, which he had not mentioned to anyone else before. Yet he not only showed no surprise that I had recognized the piece as well as its value, he seemed to not worry that it had been left while other, less valuable pieces remained behind. Yes, he said it was a replica, but I seriously wonder if he doesn't know that it's a real Greuze. And that has me wondering... who are these art thieves that know enough to take three valuable pieces but leave a 20 million dollar painting hanging on the wall, untouched?"

"Like I said," Cindy replied, "I am in the wrong profession..."

"No, you're not." I replied. "You are where you should be, doing what you do best. Oh, one more thing: get with Myron and Mary, don't speak to Julie or Sonali about this. I need them to capture cellphone pings from about half an hour before the crime to half an hour after the alarm was reset. Hopefully our perp carried a cellphone, even a burner, and if we find it on him it'll help us immensely."

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

Thirty minutes later, I was asked to come to the main conference room. Sergeant Irwin, Detective Purvis and Lt. Croyle were there, as were Patrol Officer Justin Hendricks... and the Police Union rep.

"Commander, what is the purpose of interrogating this officer?" the Union rep said as soon as I opened the door to come in.

"And good afternoon to you, too." I said. "To answer your question: this is not an interrogation. But I'm glad you're here, so you can see that it's just getting some eyewitness information and not harassing Officer Hendricks. Go ahead, Lieutenant." Teresa then deferred to Purvis.

"So you work at the Cloisters on Wednesday afternoons from 4:00pm to midnight?" Purvis asked.

"Yes." said Hendricks, calmly. "Wednesday is my day off from the Force."

"There's nothing wrong or against regulations about him working there." said the Union rep.

"No one said there was." I said sharply, then bore down hard on the Union rep. "Again, this isn't about getting Hendricks in trouble. It's about what he witnessed while on duty there. Hendricks, can you describe the man in the delivery truck in question?"


"He had on coveralls and a hat which he kept low over his eyes." said Hendricks. "He showed his I.D., and I wrote the name on the log, but I don't remember it."

"I wouldn't expect you to." I said. "Was he a regular delivery driver to the Cloisters?"

"I don't know." said Hendricks. "I only work there Wednesday evenings. I don't really remember him from any other truck drivers or delivery people."

"What was his hair and eye color?" I asked.

"He had the hat on, so I didn't see any hair, and he never really looked at me so I didn't see his eyes very well."

"Like he was avoiding looking at you." I said.

"Yes sir, I guess so, now that you mention it."

"Okay, Croyle, I'm done here." I said. "But if you can think of fifty other questions to ask, just to waste the Union rep's time, be my guest." Teresa grinned, her eyes boring evilly into the Union rep, who became uncomfortable.

With that, I left the room. I went into my office and called in Master Technician Mary Mahoney for an assignment.

Part 3 - Agency Blues

I knocked on the Chief's door at 6:30pm. He had me come in.

"Sir, I've got to go to the Federal Building." I said. "Is there anything you need before I leave?"

"Come in just one second." said Chief Bennett. "Close the door." I did so.

"First," the Chief said, "the FBI people have called not once but twice asking if you can come over. I told them I'd send you over when you could break away from the burglary case you're working on. Any idea why they are so jumpy to get you over there?"

"Yes sir." I said. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes." said the Chief, deadpan flat, his face serious.

"I suspect it's about Henry Wargrave." I said. "The Deputy Director was a bit pissed that he managed to die before I could arrest him. I'm kind of hoping he'll fire me for it."

"I see." said the Chief. "So tell me this: are all the meetings about cases like the one this afternoon?"

"Uhhhh, pretty much, sir." I said. "Usually a little more dull than today was." The joke didn't go over well.

"Did Chief Griswold run the meetings like that?" Bennett asked.

"Well," I said with a pause, then continued, "he asked about a million more questions, until he figured out I could ask fewer questions and get more answers anyway. But yes, he pretty much ran his meetings that way. He wanted as many details as possible."

"Commander," Bennett said, "if I let you run those meetings then have you give me the Cliff Notes later, would you have a problem with that?"

"No sir." I said. "Though if you're there, you can ask any questions that come to your mind and get an answer that I'll have to go back for."

"I'd agree if I weren't talking to the man with a mind like a steel trap." said Bennett. "If it's something I need to hear because I'm dealing with the Council, the Sheriff or the Press, then have me come in. Otherwise, you drive 'em."

"Yes sir." I said. Not going to argue this small blessing, I thought to myself.

"Okay, go ahead. Good night." said the Chief. "Tell the FBI people I said hello and to stop trying to hire you away from me."

I grinned, then said goodnight and left.

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

"We really needed him alive." said Jack Muscone.

We were in the FBI's offices at the Federal Building off Courthouse Square. In the room were Jack, myself, my wife Laura, and the DepDirector of the FBI. For the first time, I did not get a sense of power and mastery from him. Instead, I felt his aggravation. He was not sitting down, standing on his side of the table. The three of us were sitting down, on the other side.

"Yes." said the DepDirector. "We were done no favors by Wargrave's death."

"That's one opinion." Laura said levelly. "Others differ. Especially mine."

The Deputy Director turned a baleful eye upon my wife, but said nothing. In the Washington power schemes, Laura technically outranked him, if barely. He also knew the woman's husband was sitting across the table from him. And maybe, just maybe, he knew that ultimately, she was right.

I said "Because your Agency's overseas operations now cannot be exposed by a trial of Henry Wargrave?"

"That's a lot of it." said Laura. "Especially our operations in the Russian Federation. Mr. Putin is not a forgiving man when it comes to catching foreign spies, and I don't want our people to get caught and then killed."

"I can understand that." said the DepDirector, who then looked at me. "But there are existential threats to the Homeland, as well. We might have had Superior Bloodlines at our mercy if you had arrested Wargrave instead of..."

"Instead of him committing suicide?" I said, knowing what he was insinuating. "Sir, allow me to reassure you that if Wargrave had not thrown himself out of his office window and I'd been in time to secure his arrest, he would not have been able to help you with the Bloodlines group one bit. They, and other Big Boyz, cut him off a while back after he went to the Dark Side and committed to our Consultant of Crime. Then the Consultant betrayed him, as well. After being stabbed in the back that often, I can see why he'd want to jump out of a window."

"And how do you know this?" said Jack Muscone. He had not been especially happy about me pointing my finger at him and saying "Bang!", as I had not told him about the attempt on his life. I bought him a double cheeseburger and told him what I did beat the alternative (to really shoot him), but he was still a bit ticked off... more at not getting the arrest of Wargrave than anything else.

"Some things came to light during 'Operation Gravestone'." Laura said. "Others by my husband's deductive abilities. Conrad King cut Wargrave off; they had not met nor communicated in months. King was the liaison to Wargrave. King's son is now in France, having somehow been sprung from Federal prison..." That was a shot at the FBI, I realized, and I deduced that things were not going well between certain agencies at the highest national levels.

"Okay, okay." said the DepDirector, not going there. He finally sat down. "Well, Commander, you did lose a possible inroad to your Consultant of Crime."

"Yes." I said. "Yes I did. And sure, Wargrave could have named him... or her... but I don't think he had the real proof I need to bring the Consultant down and secure a conviction, nor arrest and convict the many members of his various gangs. Wargrave's financial records are still there, and the FBI has a lot of them, so if there's a clue there, we'll find it anyway."

I then hit them with my bombshell: "But sir, what I'd like to point out is this: why did Wargrave not run when he had the chance? He could easily have been out of the country, could've eluded everyone... yet he chose to stay in the area and, ultimately, to die. Did he have so few friends that he could not have found safe harbor somewhere? Would his considerable contacts and talents be of use to someone, some nation, even?"