Cold As Ice Ch. 02

"That's tough." said Krasney, then added: "By that, I mean it must be tough for you to have to ask me to do that, Commander. One of those men must be guilty, but we don't know which one. Your guys made their raid too soon, though I'm not faulting them. You're right, though: we likely won't get a conviction."

"It wasn't too soon." I countered. "Recovering the diamonds was the most important part of this operation, and will have more far-reaching ramifications than y'all realize."

"How long do you want to hold them, Commander?" Jenna asked. "We might not get a conviction at trial, but we'd very likely get a Grand Jury to indict them if you want to hold them for a while."

"That's a good idea, Jenna, thanks for suggesting it." I said, praising Jenna in front of her boss. "But I think we'll let Lennie stew for the 72 hours I can hold him without charging him, and just let the others go this afternoon."

"So, Commander," said Krasney, "if it's not these guys, or if it's one of them only, just who else is behind this? Of course, the only others possible are the first four officers that came to the scene."

"Mr. Krasney," I said, looking the D.A. squarely in the eyes, "I would never accuse four Town & County Police Officers of corruption without having solid proof of their perfidy. Why, I'd be accused of slander, and the Union would file grievances against me for the next twenty years." The sarcasm of my voice was unmistakable, and everyone in the room understood.

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

Jack Muscone of the FBI treated his team and the TCPD Vice squad to a celebration dinner in the back room of the Cop Bar that evening. Do I even need to mention that double cheeseburgers were the main item being served? Well, salads and chicken sandwiches were also brought in, as well as beer. A lot of beer.

Unlike other times, I declined to discuss the aspects of the case at the dinner. That would come later that evening at the Mountain Nest, where Laura served desserts while I talked. Present were Cindy Ross, Jenna Stiles, Martin Nash, Sandra Speer, Teresa Croyle, Jack Muscone, Eduardo Escobar (FBI), Lindy Linares (FBI)... and of course the very best dog in the world, Bowser. Yes, I'm biased saying that, and proud of it. Bowser sat next to me and received a good 'skritching' as I talked.

"It's that time again." Cindy Ross said as we ate dessert. "The Iron Crowbar tells us how he solved it. And with all due respect to Teresa and Vice, we know who melted the ice on this one." There was general acclaim, then silence as all eyes and ears were lent to me.

"Well, we do give credit, and lots of it, to Teresa here, as well as Detective Purvis." I said. "They developed the first leads that there was a diamond smuggling operation. The FBI also developed these leads independently. It really was good work of my guys, and I am really proud of you."

I continued: "As to finding the diamonds: after the first raid seemingly failed, I thought about where the diamonds might have been hidden. They weren't on the truck; the Crime Lab even shredded the tires to find them, and of course found nothing. But the diamonds had been there, and that meant they were taken out somehow. I then remembered hearing something about an ice chest of beers, and nobody really remembering where it went.

"One of the SWAT Team reported seeing the ice chest outside the door, but he'd also seen Sharples 'search' for contraband earlier, in front of everyone, and finding nothing. No surprise there: diamonds are virtually invisible in an ice and water mixture. Sharples did the search, and mentioned testing the beers, with the intent to distract and deceive. Teresa did very well, however, in not mentioning that her raid was for diamonds.

"Turns out Sharples and his team took the chest outside, substituted it for another one in the trunk of Sharples car, and Sharples drove the diamonds right out of there, leaving the substitute chest there in case anyone asked about it. I know this, but cannot prove it in Court, so let's all keep this to ourselves for now. Unfortunately, no one thought about the ice chest again."

I went on: "I also had information, and it would be best if I don't discuss how I obtained it, that Sharples and his henchmen have been sending texts on burner phones. He'd send an 'O' if whatever operation he was doing was a 'go', and an 'X' if it was a 'no go' and needed to be called off or a 'Plan B' put into operation. On the first raid, the letter was an 'O', and Sharples made off with the diamonds and delivered them.

"I was very much hoping to catch him trying to remove the ice chest from the building after the second raid. If he had, we'd have had him dead to rights for smuggling and possession. Then we could not only fire his fat ass, we could put him in prison, and there would not be one God-damned thing the Union could do about it.

"Unfortunately, he must've gotten wind that something was wrong, and he called off the extraction by taking out the ice chest. Maybe someone texted the 'X' when Teresa came in with the SWAT team. In any case, Sharples and his gang knew things weren't going smoothly. I suspect he might have planned to hide the chest somewhere later on, but he didn't bring it out."

"Damn our luck on that." Teresa said.

"Yes." I said. "So the burners were being monitored, which again I won't talk about, and then I got a text saying Sharples sent an 'X'. I knew the game was up for that night, and so I came on inside and showed everyone where the diamonds were hidden. Sharples was most very discomfited as he watched that ice melting away, revealing the diamonds."

I then added: "Also, it looks like Hendricks planted the burner phone on Dirty Lennie when he frisked and handcuffed Lennie. I'm going to break up that posse by having Lt. Masters assign those officers to separate precincts, so maybe Precincts are going to do us some good, after all."

"Well," said Jack Muscone, "I know you guys will be watching Sharples and your rogue cops. Things will get a lot hotter for them, and soon. In the meantime, that interdicted shipment of diamonds means that someone is hurting for money right now, and badly."

"Yes," said Laura, a great deal of satisfaction in her voice. "And we're moving forward to--"

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

That voice was Bowser's. He leapt over my lap and off the sofa, running down the foyer to the front door. He was growling, scratching and barking at the space under the door. He was a most very unhappy dog at something.

Then he took off into the dark living room next to the hallway, which faced the front of the house. Bowser leapt onto the sofa in front of the big front window. "Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" he growled again. As I came forward, I saw what had Bowser so upset:

A shadowy figure ran across the living room window! Someone was outside my house!

"Someone's out there!" I shouted. I went for my gun and was about to give chase, but as I opened the door I was dragged back and literally tackled. Martin Nash and Teresa Croyle ran outside ahead of me.

"You don't have your vest on, Commander." said Cindy, sitting on my back. "Nash and Croyle do. You stay put."

"Like I've got a choice." I said. Laura had caught Bowser and prevented him from leaving the house.

"Put him on a leash." I said. "Cindy, get off of me." Cindy let me up and I hurriedly put on my vest, which had been hanging in the front closet with my trenchcoat. I also got out a pair of night vision binoculars and took Bowser outside with me, letting him sniff the ground. He caught the scent fast enough and led me around the side of the house.

"Looks like he ran down the hill to the Campus." Teresa said as she and Martin Nash came back up the steps and to the back patio.

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!"

Bowser growled again, looking out and down into the black distance towards the University campus, the leash straining as it held him back from giving pursuit. I snapped my night-vision binoculars to my eyes, and I saw it... the shadowy figure was behind a tree just downhill of us, and watching us!

"There he is!" I shouted, giving chase, as did my officers. But the figure bolted, this time running pell-mell down the hillside. When I stopped and used the binoculars again, the figure was gone.

Part 11 - Epilogue

"Such a good dog, Bowser!" I whispered as I petted my daughter's dog, an hour after seeing the trespasser. "You did such a great job tonight!" Bowser wagged his tail and accepted my pettings and scratching his ears and jawline, which he liked. He settled into his bed beneath Carole's crib, but he was still restless and agitated. And so was I.

The Campus Police and 1st Precinct had been notified of the trespasser, and both were on the lookout with increased patrols. I'd declined offers of a patrol car being stationed outside the house, and also declined Cindy and Teresa's offers to stay with us. "We'll set the alarm." I said. "It'll be all right."

As Laura and I settled into bed, she asked "Who do you think that was?"

"I have no idea." I said. "And what bothers me the most is that he didn't just bolt the first time, he stayed and kept watching us until Bowser growled again and I saw him in the night vision device."

"Well, I have to apologize to you." Laura said. As I looked at her inquiringly she said "I have to admit that bringing Bowser home to us was a good thing." I hugged her.

"Yes," I said, "he's a great dog."

"I suspect he put the fear of God into that perp, too." said Laura.

"Yes, he did." I agreed. "Laura... we need to be very careful. That diamond shipment was meant for Henry Wargrave. Interdicting it is going to cause him a lot of pain... a lot of pain. He is a cool and desperate man now, and there is no telling what he might do now that he's being cornered."

"Yes, darling, I know." said Laura. She rested her body against mine, her arm across my chest. "Hold me." I took my wife into my arms. We lay there for a long time, sleep not coming easily.

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

"What the hell was I supposed to do?" snarled Sharples. He was in the basement laundry room of the Sunrise Hotel. McCombs and Hendricks were outside, in plainclothes and an unmarked car, watching Sharples' back. "The God-damned Iron Crowbar came in and went right to the ice chest. He knew those diamonds were there."

"He figured it out." said Thomas P. Cook. "And now you're in a world of shit, I'm in a world of shit, and my client is in a real world of hip-deep shit. We've got to get those diamonds back."

"How do you propose to do that?" Sharples asked disdainfully. "The secure evidence rooms are in the basement of Police Headquarters, and there is simply no way to get them out."

"You give up too easily." called out a cutting, commanding voice. A woman's voice. Karen Warner Harlan appeared in the room. "Sharples, you stay here. Thomas, come outside with me."

"But--" Cook protested, but Karen cut him off.

"Shut the fuck up, you idiot." she warned. "Now if you want to live past the next two minutes, get your ass in gear and let's go!" Cook didn't like it, but a sense of fear flowed through his very soul. He followed the beautiful young woman out. She led him to the outside back parking lot and told him to get in his car and go home. She watched until he did. Then she went back downstairs.

"All right, Sharples." she said to the overweight Detective. He had stayed instead of bolting, his mind liquid with fear. "Give me your Police ID card."

"Why?" Sharples asked in spite of himself.

"So I can duplicate it, then extract the key codes to get into the downstairs areas of Police Headquarters." Karen replied. "Don't worry, they won't be able to trace them back to you."

"Are you shittin' me?" Sharples asked, his voice whiny and irritating. "No way in hell anyone can get in there and get the diamonds back out-- oh Jesus..."

The presence of the man walking up behind Karen had Sharples' full attention. "No, I'm not Jesus, Detective." he said, "Please give her the card." Sharples did so, his heart pounding, wondering if these were his last moments on this earth. Karen used some kind of card reading device to get the info off the police ID card, then handed Sharples his card back.

"Have more faith, Detective Sharples." said the man. "Where there is a will, there is a way. And of course, I always have a way."

"Uh, yes sir." Sharples croaked.

"Go." said the man. "You'll be contacted when you're needed again. In the meantime, keep quiet and 'lay low', as they say. The Iron Crowbar will be watching you very, very closely now. Just do your job, and let him waste his time watching you do your job."

"Yes sir." Sharples said. He quickly left the room. Going upstairs to the outside, he saw McCombs and Hendricks in their car, asleep. Only when he approached the car did he realize that they had been drugged and rendered unconscious...

Meanwhile, the man asked Karen "Well, Mrs. Harlan, may I offer you a ride home?"

Karen smiled as she replied "Why, thank you very much... Number 4."

Finis... for now.