Casting Aspersions Ch. 03

"Savannah, you have anything on the BOI?" I asked.

"No." said Savannah. "I haven't heard anything since last week. I can say that the D.A.'s Office hates Finneran. Even Ted Mason despises him. I've heard remarks over time that Finneran is either going to cause a Police strike or be found floating face down in the River."

"The talk about a Police strike over his activities is true." I said. "And that's one reason I'm bringing up this whole process. Finneran's hate-based bias is beyond the pale, but we just cannot get him off the Boards of Inquiry. And as you said, Edna, Mr. Silas has gotten a lot more political and less objective in the past few months, as well."

"So what do you want to do, Don?" Steele asked.

"I actually want to lead from behind on this." I said. "I want your inputs, and even for you guys to decide what to do. If it were up to me, I'd just write it in the Charter that Finneran can't serve on any Board of Inquiry involving the Police."

Everyone chuckled, then I said "But seriously, I want a process that is fair to whoever the BOI is investigating and also gets to the truth of the matter being investigated. I also want to examine the role of the Inspector General in the County. Horace Wellman has really done an outstanding job as I.G., but the Office is still part of the Public Safety Department under the Sheriff."

"So give us your outline," said Edward Steele, "and we'll carry the ball from here."

"I freely admit I have not worked out a really good solution." I said. "I'm envisioning a separate, independent Inspector General's Office. The I.G. would not be elected, partially taking out the politics of it, though he or she could be elected. My idea is that he would be nominated by the Mayor, or perhaps the Council, and ratified by the Town Assembly."

I continued: "The Police and Fire Departments would still have Internal Affairs, but cases rising above that would be referred to the I.G.'s Office, as they are now. But the Council would refer their cases to the I.G. instead of a Board of Inquiry. Duplicate cases would be eliminated, but more importantly: right now the Police Unions can object to someone being empaneled for an I.G. inquiry... and that would be in force for Council request Boards, as well. Ultimately, criminal cases would be referred to the District Attorney's Office, as they are now."

"So are you suggesting the I.G. appoint the new Boards of Inquiry instead of the Mayor or the lead Inquiry member?" asked Savannah Fineman. "Seems like it's the same thing we have now."

"I was thinking more on the lines of a Coroner's Inquest." I said. "In fact, for more serious cases, we could really have that citizens's board, in the form of a six-person jury. The I.G. would appoint someone to be the lead investigator, and someone to be the judge or arbiter."

"I'm starting to like this idea." said Savannah Fineman. Rev. Williams agreed.

"I just have one question." said Edna Carter, with a twinkle in her eye. "Don, you're sitting there coming up with this on the fly, aren't you?" I just shrugged in acquiescence, and everyone broke out laughing...

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

10:30pm. We'd made progress, and an Inquest-style procedure replacing Finneran-dominated BOIs was sounding better and better. I began driving home, going east on North Street. There are two ways to get to The Cabin, but only one street that led to the Mountain Nest. Arena Street turned east off University Avenue behind the Campus Police Headquarters building and just south of the Stadium, while the road to the Cabin was the street north of the Stadium. I was headed to the Mountain Nest, and therefore required to take Arena Street.

As I drove, I began thinking of what Cindy said, that someone had come up with the scheme for Tim Sioban to say that Louella Hopper's last words were that she was in fear of her life because of me. I was remembering past instances of schemes that seemed to have a malevolent power behind them. Bundy McGinty had brains behind him, and I suspected those brains were not just Edward Blassingame's, or even Blassingame at all. And the whole EMPTY QUIVER event took tremendous brain power to plan, prepare, and execute.

I had long believed that one day someone would come along and try to fill the void left behind by the Reverend Raymond Kyle Westboro, the Consultant of Crime. And I was realizing that that day may have come, that someone was now organizing various groups, using people in the political arenas, the Press, and the criminal elements, turning it all into a mighty machine to do his or her bidding. Still thinking of the 'new' Consultant of Crime, I almost absentmindedly turned onto Arena Street...

Time slowed down.

An older model car suddenly pulled out into the street in front of me and headed right for me! I realized that another car had turned onto the street behind me and was speeding up to hit me from behind. And out of the corners of my eyes, I saw two other cars coming up.

As I hit the brakes, masked men suddenly exited the stopping cars. They were armed with automatic-fire weapons, M-4s and SAWs, and they began firing a barrage at me.

In less time that it takes to read this, I had my Police radio in my hand and had hit the Break Button. As the loud sound emitted, I called into the radio "Break break break! Commander Troy to all units! I am under attack! University and Arena Streets! All units respond! University and Arena!"

The windows of my Police SUV were bulletproof, and the sides of the vehicle were lined with armor. But the sustained fire was doing damage. I had to get out of there. I turned the wheel over hard to the left and gunned it, and managed to spin out of the ambush. I tried to get back to University Avenue and the open road, but the other cars came into the fray.

One car came up and rammed me from the front. I gunned it hard and tried to just blast through him with the reinforced grille of my SUV, but the other car was powerful as well, and a stalemate developed. I fleetingly thought of the concrete-lined car that had run into Frieda Franklin's parents in the 'Little Red Haired Girl' case, and thought these cars might be similar.

And then the final car came up with some built-up speed and T-boned me, catching my car right in the left side behind the driver side door. My SUV held up, but the tires were pushed against the curb, and the other car kept pushing me with relentless power.

"Oh shit." I gasped as my vehicle began toppling over into the grassy area on the other side of the sidewalk. I held onto the steering wheel for dear life as I rolled sideways with the car. It rolled over down the incline at the side of the road, then finally stopped on its roof, with me upside down and held in place by my seatbelt shoulder restraint and the steering wheel against my knees.

The military-grade gunfire had not stopped; the Enemy was pouring rounds onto the vehicle, and I knew the damaged windows would not hold out much longer. And then I saw and heard someone yell "Bring that goddamn rocket launcher over here! And throw grenades onto the top of that damn car!"

Oh shit, I thought. The underbelly of the car didn't have as much protection as the sides. Grenades over the gas tank would likely puncture it, and a rocket launcher that could destroy a tank would make lightwork of this vehicle.

I called into my handheld radio one more time, not knowing if anyone was even hearing it. With an eerie calmness, somehow feeling no terror but a strange euphoria, I thought of Laura and all my children, resolved to make them my last thoughts on this earth...

To be continued.