Gods and Crowbars Ch. 03

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The Team continues working; a verdict is reached.
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 06/16/2017
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This story is part of an ongoing series. The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

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 12 - Return To Duty

At 6:00am, Monday, April 17th, I stood in the booth of the TCPD Armory Range, took aim with my Beretta 96 service weapon, and fired ten shots. Three rows of holes, 3x4x3 appeared in the center of the target. Then I ejected the magazine, put in a new, loaded one, pressed the lever to release the slide to spring forward, switched hands, and fired at the other target left-handed. The shots were not in as neat a pattern, but passed.

"Congratulations, Commanderrrr." drawled Chief Moynahan, watching from behind me. Deputy Chief Della Harlow took the Armorer's certification and added it to the paperwork in my file as the Armorer put the targets into two frames. He'd gotten into the habit of keeping a bunch of frames due to the requests of friends of Officers re-qualifying for their targets, to be given as gifts. The Chief had asked for my targets to be framed as a gift from him and Della.

"You are officially back on duty, Commander." Della Harlow said.

"Your turn, Chief." said the Armorer. The Chief went to his station, and fired his Beretta 92FS, which had been his military service weapon and was now his Police service weapon (how he got the Army to let him keep his weapon, I don't know and am not asking). He perforated the bullseye of the target, easily passing the test. He did not attempt to qualify left-handed.

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

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the lovely redheaded reporterette at 7:00am, Monday, April 17th, from (appropriately) in front of the Federal Building. "Today is Tax Day, and County residents are scrambling to get their taxes done and sent to the IRS and State Revenue Service!"

"The Leonard Sharples trial is entering a new phase, as the Prosecution rested its case Friday afternoon." said Bettina. "The Defense will begin presenting its evidence and witnesses this morning. Legal experts are saying that while former Detective Sharples may be convicted on some of the lesser charges, the Prosecution did not adequately prove the murder case of Scrawny Haskins, and that the Death Penalty is very unlikely."

"Former SBI NTF Director Richard Ferrell remains hospitalized after his back was broken by unknown assailants before he was captured by Town & County Police Officers. Doctors have confirmed that Mr. Ferrell is paralyzed from the waist down. In a related story, the FBI went to Court to gain Federal custody of Mr. Ferrell and control of his case, citing his involvement with criminal organizations that the FBI is investigating. However, Town & County Assistant D.A. Franklin Washington expertly argued the case on behalf of the State, showing that all of Mr. Ferrell's charges are at the State and local levels. The Federal Judge denied FBI Special Agent in Charge Les Craig's petition, leaving Mr. Ferrell's case in local hands."

"Also today," said Bettina, "the Police Department issued a statement that Commander Donald Troy has returned to full duty, only a couple of weeks after being wounded and requiring back surgery. And in the Federal case in which Commander Troy was shot and wounded, the U.S. Attorney's office issued a statement that Betty Morelli has rejected a plea deal offer that would've required her to testify against her husband Jerry Morelli. Full charges will be brought against her as a result."

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

"After all that, she rejected the plea deal." said Cindy. "That woman is crazy."

"Crazy like a fox." I replied. "She's got something up her sleeve. I dunno what it is, but she has a plan."

We were sitting in my office after the coffee klatch. I'd received an ovation when I walked into MCD with my two framed targets. Doughnuts had been brought in, and they tasted very good... and did not last five minutes.

"What about Jerry Morelli?" asked Cindy. "Is he talking?"

"No." I said. "Not yet. They've got him ice-cold for attempted murder and related charges. They're not going to give him immunity for giving them his entire criminal empire, and he's not going to give that away. Les Craig is once again left holding the bag."

Cindy said "Funny how Bettina made a point to show up Les Craig like she did. Guess he's not giving her pickle-tickles anymore, huh?"

"Doesn't look like it." I said. "I suspect their out-of-bed uses for each other are done, so that little exchange of values does not need to continue."

"I wish that we could say that of him in the FBI," said Cindy, "but Callie got word that he's still being groomed for top-level positions."

I took out my bug killer and turned it on. "She still working with Janet?" I asked.

"Not since your wife retired." said Cindy. "But they're keeping her in the loop on some things. I'm not sure why."

"Well," I said, "my friends in the LAPD, Claire Michaels and her boss Captain Raytheon, have been working with the FBI on some of the same stuff we're working on here. They're working on their version of 'White Roots' there, and the same Superior Bloodlines is behind them that is behind our friendly neighborhood supremacists around here."

"Makes sense." said Cindy. Then she froze in her tracks. "She... Callie didn't come back here just for that, did she?"

"No, my friend." I said reassuringly. "Callie's here to do sex research for my wife, recruit University girls for her movies, and most importantly, to be with you." Cindy relaxed considerably after my reassurances.

"Cindy," I said, understanding what my cousin was thinking, and feeling, "you gotta relax. And you gotta love like there's no such thing as a broken heart."

"Someone could write a country music song about that. Probably will, one day." Cindy replied. I nodded vigorously in agreement.

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

"Welcome back, Commander!" Mary Mahoney Milton said brightly as she and Myron sat down in my hot chairs. Her hair was a lovely shade of metallic pink today, and the rest of her looked very healthy and happy, a pleasing bloom on her cheeks... hmmm...

"Thank you." I said. "I'm very happy to be back. So, anything happen while I was away?" The Mouseketeers chuckled.

"Not much, Commander." said Supervisor Myron Milton. "We did gather some information on Benny Brighton. The consensus opinion is that he was a tool, a lackey, a 'useful idiot', but in truth he's been a valuable operative for the equivalent of 'White Roots' in the Los Angeles area, a group called 'Bruins For A White California', a.k.a. the BFWC. Opponents started derisively calling them the 'Polar Bears', and they adopted it for themselves."

"Hoo boy." I said. "So Benny was one of them?"

"He always seemed to be on the fringe of them." said Myron. "The LAPD's Major Crimes division has made some major busts of this group, but never netted Benny. What Mary and I have reason to believe," (which meant Myron hacked into something, somewhere) "is that Benny is a go-between, a liaison between Superior Bloodlines and these more up-front racial groups like 'White Roots' and the 'Polar Bears'."

"So why was he working for Ferrell?" I asked. I did not need a long reverie for it to hit me. "Ohhhhh, wait a minute. I see it now."

"See what, sir?" asked Mary.

I did not answer, but asked "Is Benny still in our custody?"

"Yes sir." said Mary. "County Jail, in isolation. But he's too hot to hold, so he's going to be transferred to The Asylum's new Supermax-level security area."

"I've got to talk to him before that happens." I said.

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

*BUUUUZZZZ!*

The buzzer opening the door to the most secure area of County Jail blasted loudly as Benny Brighton was brought into Interrogation-2. He was handcuffed to the ring on the table. He was tall, skinny, dirty blonde unkempt hair, and in need of a shave.

I studied him for a moment through the one-way glass. We were waiting for his lawyer to arrive... Nathan Masterson of Gresham & Mason.

"Did he ever invoke?" I asked.

"No sir." said Cindy. "He asked for a lawyer, but he readily answered questions with the proviso that he could invoke at any time.

"That in itself is very interesting, don't you think, Captain?" I asked.

"If you say so, sir." Cindy replied. "I'm not sure why you think that, though."

"It means they, meaning his lawyer and his Superior Bloodlines bosses, trust him enough to talk to us. They trust him to know what he can say and can't say." I replied. Cindy nodded with new understanding.

After the lawyer was brought in, I came in through the anteroom door, bringing Detective Teddy Parker with me. Yes, it's politically incorrect to say this, but I knew if I brought in a black or female Detective, I'd get no cooperation.

I sat down rather slowly, and said "Hello, Benny. I'm Commander---"

"I know who you are, Mr. Iron Crowbar." said Benny. "How's your back?"

"Good enough to fight a running battle all the way to Los Angeles and halfway back." I said. "But thanks for asking."

"Didn't think I was important enough to merit the Iron Crowbar's personal attention." Benny said. I was not fooled.

"Oh, I rushed to get out of the hospital for two reasons, Benny. First, their food is awful, much worse than what you're having in jail, here. And second, just so I could talk to you."

"What do you want of my client?" asked Masterson, getting tired of the preliminary theatrics.

"Benny, why are you hanging around a dirtbag like Dick Ferrell?" I asked. "He's scum. He's stupid. He's fucked up so many times they just call him 'the fuck-up' in the SBI. You were doing better than that in California, Benny. What gives?"

"Unlike you, so I've heard, I follow my orders." said Benny. "I was told to work with Ferrell, and I did."

"And you're now sitting in jail because of his stupidity." I said. "Maybe you should not have followed orders." Benny shrugged, and then I asked "So who gave you those orders, Benny?"

"Like I told your FBI guy, that straight-laced Boy Scout that looks like he needs to get laid," said Benny, talking about Martin Nash, "I get my orders from Ben Ellman, great leader of White Roots; and from Franklin Gray, a great white man."

"Mr. Stormbringer." I said, which rattled Benny, and his lawyer, for the first time. "Ah, the company you keep, Benny... the company you keep. Bad people. And if you think I believe those two are your real bosses, you've got another 'think' coming. Ellman was arrested a long time ago," (Author's note: 'Point Hollow') "and Franklin Gray is the true 'useful idiot' to your masters... or master, as I perceive." Benny's eyes lit up when I used the plural, giving away that he had one boss, which I'd already surmised. "So, Benny, help yourself out tremendously, and tell me who your real boss is."

Masterson leaned over and whispered something to Benny, who nodded. "I need to talk to my lawyer for five minutes." Benny said. We got up and went out to the anteroom.

When we came back in five minutes later, Benny said "On the advice of Counsel, pursuant to the Fifth Amendment, I'm invoking my right to remain silent, and will answer no more of your questions."

"Very well, Benny." I said, having not even sat down yet. I turned to go. "I won't be seeing you again, at least before your trial. Good luck to you." With that I left, knowing that Benny had just signed his death warrant by invoking. His only hope to live was to tell all he knew, making killing him not worth the effort...

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

"Out of curiosity," asked Cindy as we drove along in my Police SUV, "why did you give them so much, like 'Stormbringer' and Franklin Gray, and all that?"

"Several reasons, and just so you know, Jack Muscone and I talked about this earlier." I replied. "We know Franklin Gray is not a real player for Superior Bloodlines. They've been stringing him along, letting him think he's important, but in reality he's just a tool for them, and became useless after Jeanine Burke and then Michael Burke's murders."

I continued: "The 'Stormbringer' operation of Gray's is more important, but Jack and I believe that letting them know we know about it will cause them worries. They'll wonder how we know, who told them, who the traitor in their midst is, and they'll also have to decide whether or not shutting it down is necessary. We know that we're not going to be able to penetrate it and use it to our advantage."

"I can see that." Cindy said. "I still might not let them know we know, though."

"At any rate," I said as we arrived at our destination, "we've stirred the pot, and we'll see what happens." I gave her some quick instructions, ending with "Good luck."

"Thanks." said Cindy, getting out of my Police SUV. "I'll call if I need anything..."

Part 13 - Reunion Union

"Thank you for seeing us today!" said Detective Joanne Cummings Warner as she sat down with Susan Gurley in the conference room of Bodycore Technologies, a company dedicated to exercise science, with workout programs as well as equipment. Town Fitness Centers was an enthusiastic customer of their products.

Joanne was dressed smartly in civilian clothes, a black skirt and jacket with a light blue blouse, her badge on her belt just left of the buckle, and her gun holstered further left along the side of her left hip, facing 'backwards' for easy drawing. Joanne was good and fast at drawing her service weapon and shooting accurately with it.

With her was Detective Jerome Davis, in a brown jacket and pants, and an off-white shirt with brown and red criss-cross stripes that somehow managed to work and look fashionable. Ostensibly he was getting training by working with Joanne. He also was her backup and bodyguard, if such was needed.

Susan Gurley was 42 years old. She had dirty blonde hair styled simply, like Senator Katherine Woodburn styled her hair Susan had been a very beautiful woman in her earlier days, and still was very attractive though her somewhat 'big boned' body was just beginning to add weight. She was a paper pusher in the Sales Department of Bodycore Technologies.

"So what is this about?" Susan asked. "It's been ten years since Jason died."

"Yes ma'am." said Joanne. "We periodically review old cold cases, and this one came up as your class is about to have another anniversary reunion." She noted that Susan's eyes glazed over at the rather big word 'periodically'.

"So what can I help you with?" asked Susan. "I told the Police ten years ago that I thought Jimmy Amberton had acted suspiciously that night."

"You thought he was the guilty one?" asked Jerome.

"I don't know for sure," said Susan, "and it might be slander if I say out loud what I actually think. But Jimmy Amberton was just a slimy little punk all through school. Everyone hated him. Why Jennifer married him, I don't know, but the way she was acting with Jason, dancing with him that night, I think she was seeing the error of her ways in marrying Jimmy."

"Yes, we read the case notes of your statement to the Police back then." said Joanne. "If I may ask some questions from a different direction... you are the Class Vice President?"

"Yes." said Susan.

"With Jason being the Class President but now deceased," Joanne said, "you now are the one to make the reunion arrangements?"

"Actually," said Susan, "I already was the one making the arrangements. Jason, me, and Kay Helmsley, who was the Class Secretary/Treasurer, were the committee to do things like that. I live here in Town, so I've always just gone ahead and done it."

"So you made the arrangements ten years ago?" asked Joanne.

"Yes." said Susan.

"Did you meet with Jason and Kay beforehand, to plan the event ten years ago?" asked Joanne.

"Yes, we did meet." said Susan. "Two months before the event, which was early August, if I can remember right."

"Did any of you ever meet up with the Ambertons during that time?" Joanne asked. Susan paused for the first time, a little frown forming on her face.

"Ma'am?" pressed Joanne, peering at Susan.

"Well..." Susan said, "It was like this. Jason lived in Midtown at the time. He drove up and stayed for several days. We met Friday to hash out our plan, then we were going to meet again on Sunday after I check into some arrangements. On Sunday, I was driving to the Hyatt Hotel, where our meeting was. As I parked, I saw a man escorting a woman to her car. It was Jason Rutledge and Jennifer Amberton. And he kissed her on the mouth before she got in her car and drove away."

"Why didn't you tell anyone that before?" asked Joanne.

"I'm not trying to be evasive when I say this, but no one asked." said Susan. "And at the time, I thought it was their business, not mine."

"Jason was murdered," said Joanne in a disbelieving voice, "and you did not think him meeting with Jennifer Amberton two months before wasn't important for the Police to know?"

"At the time," said Susan, "it was shocking, everything was going on so fast and things were a blur. All I can say is I didn't think of it, and no one asked me about anything that had happened before that weekend."

Jerome Davis stepped up to the plate, and asked: "Ma'am, did you have a sexual relationship with Jason Rutledge?"

Susan's face fell. "Yes." she said. "That same weekend. After our meeting, Kay went home. Jason asked me up to his room, and I went, even though I was married, and still am. And yes, Jason and I made love. Nine months later, my daughter, our second child, was born, and I'm sure she's Jason's daughter, though my husband doesn't know anything about it."

"Thank you for your honesty, Mrs. Gurley." said Jerome.

"Ma'am," asked Joanne, "did you receive any money after Jason died?"

"No." said Susan.

"Are you aware of any arrangement by Jason for any children of his to inherit any money when they reach adult age?" asked Joanne.

"No, I haven't heard anything like that." said Susan.

"Do you know who did inherit Jason's money after he died?" asked Jerome.

"No, I never did know that, and I really didn't ask." said Susan, thinking about it possibly for the first time ever. "I always assumed he had family somewhere that would inherit the money."

Joanne had Susan sign the write-up of the conversation, which was now an affidavit. "Thank you for your time, ma'am." said Joanne. "And if you hear anything else that can help us, please let us know."

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

Nathan Masterson was driving in his expensive Lexus SUV on the Nextdoor County Highway towards the City. Just as he entered Nextdoor County, he made a phone call.

After he disconnected, he continued to drive along the highway, watching for Police. They were notorious for picking up speeders along this highway. He noticed a old green car following his vehicle. He sped up slightly, but the car kept pace.

As he neared the City, he noticed the green car fall back. Finally, it vanished from his rear view mirror's sight.

As he got to his offices in the City, he suddenly had a very bad thought enter his head. He got a small device out of the trunk of his car, which looked like a drone controller with a little antenna on it. He activated it, and a beep began emitting. He scanned inside his car, and his heart sank as he found one bug wired into the car's phone speaker system, and another embedded in the GPS system...