Cold As Ice Ch. 02

"Yes." I said, then said loudly so that everyone could hear: "We need to look around for a shed or toolhouse in the area."

We searched around the periphery of the field. There was a small wooden shed in the backyard of one of the houses, and an open fence gate next to it."

"Let's ask the owners if we can look inside." I said. I went to the front door, but my knocks went unheeded.

"Commander," Cindy said, "for all your powers of observation..." She pointed to the 'For Sale' sign in the front yard.

"Ah, yes," I said, smiling, "I can't see the forest for the trees. Okay, let's do the 'probable cause' thing since this house appears to be unoccupied."

We went back to the shed, where Rudistan and Morton had stood on guard. Going inside, I groaned.

"This is it, all right." I said. "Hook on the door where a trenchcoat was likely hanging. But look at this." I pointed to what looked like a large rubber washtub. Inside was a beard, a wig, glasses, a shirt, blue jeans, and socks... all completely submerged in pure Clorox.

"So much for DNA data," Cindy said, "but I'll call the Lab anyway."

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

"I think I've been hanging around you too long." Cindy said as we sat in folding chairs on what would be the new, reconstructed deck of The (New) Cabin, feeling the chill of the late afternoon air, and sipping on some single-malt Scotch that I only brought out on rare occasions, good or bad. This was one of those occasions.

Cindy continued: "I can just see that this whole thing was orchestrated by Sharples, and for his own glorification. What I don't understand is the 'why' of it."

"Well," I replied, "I don't think Sharples is smart enough to plan all that own his own, if you get my drift. This was planned for him, and the reasons are pretty easy to see, too."

I explained: "I think we got closer to getting rid of Sharples than we realized. They had to pull out all the stops with the Union. Then someone figured out that rescuing him was not enough; they had to rehabilitate his image publicly, or at least start publicly boosting his image so that if we started trying to erode him with the Media, he'd have this to counter it. And that was done, and pretty effectively, I might add. So as it stands now, even though most of the Force still knows what Sharples is and isn't, KSTD is making him pure gold with the Public."

"Yep." Cindy said. "so much for our brilliantly planned, flawlessly executed plans--"

Just then the crunch of gravel alerted us to the fact a car was driving up. Out popped someone unexpected: Bettina Wurtzburg, Senior Managing Editor of KXTC Channel Two News.

"May I join you for a moment?" Bettina asked as she came up. "Off the record? Completely off the record?"

"Sure." I said. I had brought an extra chair and cup, suspecting we might have an extra guest... but I thought it would be Teresa.

"I'll let you two talk--" Cindy said, getting up to go.

"Oh no, please stay." Bettina said. "I'd like for both of you to hear this." Cindy sat back down as I poured Bettina a drink.

"Mmm, that's good stuff." Bettina said after sipping the Scotch. "Again, guys, this is completely off the record."

"Agreed." I said. "Completely off the record. What's up?"

Bettina started in: "It is very obvious to everyone that something was going on with that kidnapping. And KSTD got every exclusive. Priya Ajmani, who would spread her legs for any man if it meant getting a scoop over us, somehow was at the scene when Sharples found the little girl, and was somehow the only one getting interviews with that guy."

If Bettina noticed Cindy and I exchange glances, she didn't let on as she continued: "I've been in the news business a good long time, and I know staging when I see it. This whole thing, and by that I mean the entire kidnapping event, looked like a planned, orchestrated, staged event. Everything looked done in advance, including the Media coverage, at least for KSTD. I know that sounds crazy guys, and probably makes me sound like some jealous harpy that's mad about getting scooped. But I'm not kidding; I think that whole thing was a farce... except for what the little girl endured."

"Yeah, that's what pisses me off about this." Cindy said. "Kidnapping a little girl like that. Whoever would do that has a heart as cold as ice, or really no heart at all."

"I could not agree more." I said. "And Bettina, you're not crazy. I agree with your ideas. I'll give you this much, and off the record, of course: Sharples has been increasingly on the edge the last few weeks and months. We've been looking to get him out, but he has some people desperate to save him, keep him where he is. I think this is part of that: make him look good with the Public, using a very willing tool in Priya Ajmani and KSTD... oh, take note of who owns KSTD, by the way, Bettina."

"Some group called Acme, right?" Bettina asked. I was stunned she did not know more.

"And who is behind Acme?" I asked.

"I... I'm not really sure." Bettina said. "They're a holding company for a consortium of businesses, based in the City, but I haven't looked up their makeup. I've got enough to do with my own network."

"Miss Ross, what do you think about Acme?" I asked Cindy.

"Whenever I hear the word 'Acme', Bettina, I hear the words 'Henry R. Wargrave'." Cindy replied.

"Oh, wow." Bettina said. "And does that mean-- oh, I can't ask that off the record. I'd never be able to use it."

"You'll never get an answer on the record." I said, knowing what she wanted to ask.

"Okay." said Bettina. "I've heard that the FBI and CIA are crawling up Wargrave's posterior so hard that he's shitting Government forms. They are really going after him. I haven't figured out why, though, especially after all these years."

"Want to know why?" I asked. "Look behind you."

Bettina did so, seeing only the beginnings of the construction of The Cabin. "I don't get it." she said. She looked around again, then it dawned on her. "Ohhhhhh... the fire. Oh my God, Don, are you trying to tell me Wargrave set your house on fire?"

"No, he didn't." I said. "He had no part in that at all. But the house fire is a clue to what is happening, and if you figure it out, Bettina, you'll have the greatest news scoop of all time. Of course I won't say any more... off the record or on it."

"Bettina," Cindy said, "off the record, you now know exactly how I feel every day talking to this man. Not much gets by him, but getting him to share is a different story."

"In due time, my friend, in due time." I said. "If I am keeping anything from you, Miss Ross, it's only to protect you from the hideous Evil that lurks within this County. Evil forces that were behind Bettina's ordeal at the hands of my evil nephew, Evil forces that set this house on fire. Okay, Bettina, I've given you some really hot information, though off the record. Do with it what you will..."

Part 9 - The Ace of Diamonds

Monday morning, April 6th. At 7:30am Cindy and I were in my office, drinking our coffee and discussing what was going to happen during the day. We were planning to interdict the diamond shipment that the FBI said was coming in tonight, and we knew we had to do everything discreetly, nothing in writing. Paulina understood and went to Judge Watts' home to get a warrant that would be kept under seal until the raid actually took place.

To my shock, my office door opened and in walked Deputy Chief Robert Brownlee, without knocking and without invitation.

"There's a concept called 'knocking', Brownlee." I said. "Get to know it. Start doing it."

Brownlee ignored my words, as well as Cindy's presence as he said "We haven't gotten your written medal request for Sergeant Sharples yet. When are you going to submit one?"

"It's 'Detective' Sharples, Brownlee. He's not a Sergeant." I said. "And the first normal duty day since the incident hasn't even started yet, and won't for thirty minutes. We'll write something up, but in due time."

"You should put him in for the Police Medal." Brownlee said with an absolutely straight face. "If you don't want your people to write it up, I'll do it."

"No, it's not your place to do that." I said. "And the Police Medal? Are you kidding me?" Brownlee said nothing; he wasn't kidding. I continued: "If I feel good today, I might put him in for an Achievement Medal, which the Council will downgrade to a Certificate of Achievement. But the Police Medal? No frickin' way."

"Suit yourself." said Brownlee. "But he deserves a lot higher award for finding that little girl."

"At no risk to himself." I said. "Achievement Medal would be more than enough. Now shoo, go away, go do your job pushing papers." Brownlee's eyes sparked with anger at those words, but he held his tongue. He walked out.

"Are you frickin' kidding me?" Cindy said, her face not able to hide her sheer disbelief. "The Police Medal for that Fat Bastard?"

"Part of their plan." I said. "Part of their plan. Now let's not worry about little shit, we've got a big mission tonight...

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

At 10:00am, Lt. Teresa Croyle came into my office.

"Sir," she said, "we've just gotten a tip that a big drug shipment is coming in. The drop is supposed to go down near Ronald Reagan Park around 1:00am."

"Which Detective developed this?" I asked.

"Geiger." Teresa said. "But when I asked him where he got it he admitted that Sharples gave him some info on it. Sharples then said that Geiger should take this to me, both to make Geiger look good and because we're mad at Sharples."

"No doubt about that." I said.

"The intel is pretty good, though." Teresa said. "I had Geiger and Newton check it out. Newton confirmed it."

"Okay," I replied, "have Geiger work with some Precinct 3 officers. Full vests and gear. But just as he leaves, tell him this might fake info to distract us. If it's real, he gets a good collar; if it's not, so be it."

"Yes sir." Teresa said, then turned and left.

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

11:05pm, Monday April 6th. Lieutenant Teresa Croyle had her eight-man SWAT team ready to go, led by Senior Sergeant Hugh Hewitt, as Lt. Claire Michaels was away on personal business. Detective Christopher Purvis was also there. They were watching the warehouse that had been the scene of the first diamond raid days before.

"There's the truck." Teresa said. "And sure enough, Commander, there's Sharples, McCombs, Hendricks and Davis. Two hours before the FBI's intel said the truck would be here."

"And we're not supposed to know it's here at all." I said. "Okay, go!"

When Teresa and her unit burst into the room, the scene was virtually the same as before: five men sitting around a cooler full of ice and beers, their hands on their heads but them sitting in their chairs this time. Teresa noted that Sharples and his team had come in at least a minute beforehand, so those guys should've been on the floor and handcuffed by now.

"Nothing again, Lieutenant." Sharples said, his voice surprisingly calm and agreeable. "We just got here and were about to start a search. And I do have a warrant this time, issued by Judge Nance."

"Good." said Teresa. "Cuff and search these guys." She watched as officers cuffed the five men, some of who were bitterly protesting that this was harassment and that they wanted their lawyers immediately. Dirty Lennie had two cell phones, extracted by Patrol Officer Justin Hendricks, but other than that there was nothing unusual about their pocket contents.

"Nothing in the ice chest." said Sharples, taking the beers out as before...

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

I was still waiting outside with Lt. Cindy Ross, Sergeant Rudistan, Senior Patrolmen Morton and Hicks, and two Crime Lab techs, J.R Barnes and Bobby Patrick. Just then, my Police cellphone chimed. The text message read "Burner sent 'X' to four other burners."

"Shit." I said quietly. "Okay guys, it won't happen tonight. Let's go on inside." Cindy's face looked anguished as we moved inside and joined the others.

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

"Leave that there, Sharples." Teresa ordered as Sharples was about to take the ice chest with him. He had done that last time, she remembered. Sharples's face began to redden, but he did not argue and he put the chest down. It may have been because he saw the tall, broad-shouldered redhead in a trenchcoat and Tilley Hat come into the room, carrying a red crowbar.

"Commander," Teresa said, "there is no contraband here that we've found yet."

"Allow me to assist you in your inquiries." I said dramatically, then called out loudly "Gentlemen, bring in the equipment!"

The Crime Lab techs wheeled in an industrial hot-air blower from the Lab, as well as an iron pot more suitable for charcoal barbecues, and what looked like a circular piece of a screen door; it was a large sieve with the mesh consistent with a screen door. I set the sieve on top of the pot as the techs started up the generator that would feed electricity to the hot air blower.

"Excuse me, Sharples." I said, brushing past him and picking up the ice chest. It was heavy, and all eyes were upon me as I poured the ice and water onto the sieve. The water went through and into the pot; the ice remained on top of the mesh screen.

"Okay guys, heat it up." I ordered. "Rudistan, make sure to tape every second of this."

"Got it, sir." Rudistan said, operating a video camera. Cameras were being used more and more in crime scene investigations, as the visual record of the investigation did very well to stifle defenses during jury trials.

We all watched as the ice slowly melted as the hot air blew onto the crystal-clear pile of water rocks. It took some time, and I observed the faces of everyone as they watched. Hendricks and Sharples looked uncomfortable... and so did Dirty Lennie, who I would enjoy 'talking to' shortly. Everyone else had a look of fascination or 'WTF?' on their features.

Finally, the water stopped dripping through the sieve and into the pot. Only a pile of small, clear nuggets were left on the sieve, and everyone became aware that they were sparkling with a brilliance that ice didn't.

"Oh my God." said Teresa Croyle, the first to speak.

"Yes, Lieutenant." I said. "It looks like we have found us an illegal shipment of smuggled diamonds. Arrest these five guys and take them to Precinct 2 for booking. Oh, Dirty Lennie had an extra cellphone? Whassup wit' dat, Lennie?"

I continued: "Hewitt! Escort the Crime Lab technicians as they transport this contraband to the secure evidence areas. Shoot to kill anyone who tries to interdict you or stop you in any way. Go!"

"Yes sir!" called out Hewitt, and he led his SWAT team and the techs out with their enormously valuable cache of evidence.

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

At 1:15am, as we were processing the perps, I got a call on police radio. Detective Geiger had successfully led a bust on a drug shipment, though it was much smaller than originally anticipated. I congratulated Geiger, then told Teresa to write up a commendation for him.

Part 10 - Solution

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the lovely redhead reporterette into her microphone at 7:00am on Tuesday, April 7th. She was reporting from outside Precinct 2 Headquarters as she shouted "Channel Two News has learned that the Town & County Police Force interdicted a large shipment of diamonds being smuggled into the County! In an exclusive interview with Channel Two News, Commander Donald Troy stated that Lieutenant Teresa Croyle and Detective Christopher Purvis developed the information and led the raid that resulted in the successful recovery of the diamonds." Bettina then named, all too accurately, the dollar value of the diamonds. It was a staggering figure.

Bettina continued: "The diamonds were found in an ice chest filled with ice and water as well as beers. While Commander Troy stated that his Detectives did the work of discovery of the diamonds, other officers at the scene told Channel Two News on condition of anonymity that it was Commander Troy himself who revealed the hiding place of the diamonds by melting the ice in the chest with an industrial hot air blower..."

Teresa Croyle came up to me as I listened with everyone in MCD. "Thank you, Commander, especially for Purvis. He did great work on this." she said, referring to my giving my officers credit, which of course they richly deserved.

"Write Purvis up for a Commendation Medal." I said. "The Council will downgrade it to an Achievement Medal, but he'll get something. I am sure Miss Ross is already writing up your award."

"Way ahead of you, sir." Cindy said. The email with the write-up was already in my 'inbox'.

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

"Oh my God. Ohhhhh noooo..." Henry R. Wargrave said as he ate his breakfast with his wife in their home north of Town, in the Heritage Cloisters subdivision. He suddenly was not hungry anymore. He had just listened to Bettina's broadcast.

"Is everything all right, dear?" Lilly Wargrave asked, concerned by the look on her husband's face.

"Uh, sure, sure." Henry said. "I just remembered some really urgent business I must attend to. Sorry to rush off, dear. Have a good day." He got up, kissed his wife on the forehead, and hurriedly left the room and the house.

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

"Lennie, Lennie, Lennie." I said to the dirty, disgusting long-haired punk on the other side of the table in the Interrogation Room at Precinct 2 Headquarters in the Old Mill building. "We've got you ice cold, pun fully intended, for being in possession of smuggled diamonds, not to mention a burner phone. You're doing serious time for this one, Lennie. Why don't you tell us what's going on, so that my A.D.A. can cut you a good deal, eh, and put the real perp in prison where he belongs?"

Lennie stared at me, then exhaled. "Bring it on, brother Crowbar, bring it on. That cop Hendricks planted the phone on me, and I didn't do anything. I'm not saying anything else. You can't pin a damn thing on me specifically. "

Lennie was the only one so closed-mouthed. The other four men had demanded lawyers but had protested their innocence. The truck driver had outstanding warrants and would be extradited to Midtown, and he also invoked his Fifth Amendment rights and would not speak with us.

"All the stories stick like glue." said Teresa Croyle. "They all say Sharples and his gang came in and made them put their hands up, then the rest of us came in seconds later. The times aren't even close to reality, but their stories stick." She added: "And 'Curly' Goodwin of I.A. separately interviewed all four officers of Sharples' team, and their stories are exactly the same, as well, and the same as the perps' stories. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were all telling the truth, the workers and our officers."

"Some of them are, and some of them are lying like dogs in the shade." I said.

Moments later, District Attorney Gil Krasney showed up, escorted by ADA Jenna Stiles. Her face and Cindy's brightened considerably when they caught sight of each other. I took Krasney, Cindy, Jenna, Teresa and Precinct Captain Damien Thompson into the conference room next to Thompson's office.

"So here's the situation." I said. "I think two of the five guys are completely innocent, and two others are on the periphery but didn't know the full story. Dirty Lennie is just that: dirty, both physically in his hygiene and in this smuggling operation. We could convict all five of them on possession charges, but that would be wrong. Putting just Dirty Lennie on trial creates so much reasonable doubt and other crap that I wouldn't ask you to try the case. I'd rather let them all skate than wrongly convict two likely-innocent men, both of whom have families."