Going Rogue Ch. 01

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 1 - Prologue

(Author's note: this story is a lot of laying groundwork for the future, something like an Interlude. Thanks in advance for bearing with it, and be assured that cluuuuues are being inserted.)

Monday morning, October 5th. Having spent the weekend with Laura and the kids at The Cabin, I was leaving in my Police SUV. The driveway to the road went north, and as I looked forward I saw a strange, new set of lights on the northern end of the University's property. I stopped to peer at the lights, and saw that construction was starting up.

*BRING!* *BRING!* *BRING!*

My cellphone was ringing and I answered it. It was my wife.

"Is everything okay up there?" she asked. She and the kids were in her Mercedes behind me. My sudden stop, which blocked her behind me in the driveway, necessitated her call.

"Uh, yeah, sure." I said. "Do you know what that new construction is?"

"No." Laura replied. "I'll check on it when I get to my office."

I drove on down to the road, then north along it until it turned downhill to meet the main roads. Seeing the construction to my right (and the University football stadium to my left), I decided to pull over and see what it was about.

No sooner was I stopping near the trailer that housed the site office, when a man in construction attire practically flew out of the trailer and walked rapidly towards my Police SUV.

"Hey!" he barked, "This is a closed site! What are you doing here?"

"I'm the Police Commander in this Town." I said in a friendly voice. "What's this construction about?"

"This is State property!" the man barked again. "You have no jurisdiction here. If you don't have a State warrant, get out of here!"

I was taken aback at the man's vehemence as much as his confrontational attitude. And though I was an SBI Reserve Agent, I knew he was technically right.

"What's your name?" I asked, in a more authoritative voice.

"That's none of your god-damn business!" the man snarled. "Now get out of here. Jeb! Round up our guys, tell 'em to bring the shotguns!"

"Coming right up!" a lanky man at the door of the trailer said before ducking back inside.

"All right, I'll go." I said. "But the Sheriff does have jurisdiction here. Expect a visit from him soon." With that, I backed out and headed down the road and through Town to Police Headquarters.

Part 2 - Dogs In the Night-Time

"This is Betting Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the lovely redheaded reporterette at 7:00am. "Channel Two News is following the developing news of a series of dog killings in several neighborhoods around Town. This weekend the crimes occurred in neighborhoods in the southwest of Town. Channel Two News reached out to Precinct Two Captain Damien Thompson for comment, but we've received no response."

"Typical news media." said Theo Washington as we drank coffee in MCD and watched. "They call at 5:00am when no one is home, then say we're not getting back to them."

"I thought Bettina was getting better about that, Don---- er, Commander." said Lt. Tanya Perlman.

"She was." I replied, not chastising Tanya for her slip, at least not in front of the others. "So for her to do that is a cluuuuue that something is going on here. In addition, if a perp is killing dogs, I want to find that perp and... well, let's just say I don't carry that crowbar around just to look good." There was mild laughter.

"In other news," Bettina said, "the groundbreaking ceremony for the new State Crime Lab took place at the University on Saturday. University President Sidney P. Wellman and SBI Director Jack Lewis, who is running for Governor, participated in the ceremony. The new State Crime Lab is a joint venture between State law enforcement authorities and the University's Criminal Justice Department. Students and Campus Police Cadets will learn Crime Lab techniques in a first-class facility, and Director Lewis says the region will be served much more efficiently by the Crime Lab in their local area."

I glanced around, wondering why all pairs of eyes were on me. "What?" I asked. It was Tanya Perlman who had the nerve to say something.

"They're building a State Crime Lab in our backyard, Commander." she said. "When our own Crime Lab is the best in the State by far, and we have contracts with all the counties in this region."

"Well," I said, "it's not like I have some kind of magic wand and can stop it."

"Sir," said Martin Nash, "I think we're all wondering why they're doing this, and what your reaction is going to be."

"My reaction," I said as I poured coffee into my 'U.S. Army Airborne School' mug, "is going to be to have another cup of coffee, then go get the Precinct Two duty logs and see if I can get more about these dog killings from Precinct Captain Thompson than Bettina did." Fortified by the caffeinated product, I took leave of the MCD room.

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

The morning meeting of "Crowbar's Angels" was cut short by a call from the Sheriff. I asked Cindy, Tanya, and Teresa to step out of my office so that I could talk to Sheriff Daniel Allgood in privacy.

"Hello, Sheriff." I said. "How was your weekend?"

"Good!" Daniel said. "The woods around Lake Amengi-Nunagen have turned Fall colors, and Melina harvested a deer. Paper-plate center shot at 300 yards." By that, he meant that a deer's vitals (and a human's for that matter) are in a circle about 8" in diameter, the size of a paper plate, and Melina of course put her shot dead in the middle at 300 yards. No big deal... for her.

"Cool beans." I said. "I called you this morning because I stopped by that construction site on the north side of the University this morning, and I got a rather rude reception." I explained what had happened. "I was wondering if you might want to stop by there. And maybe take a couple cars of very well-armed reinforcements."

"I'll check into it." said Daniel. "My chance to channel my inner Crowbar."

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

The Old Mill Building had a much more comfortable feel to it now that it had been a Police Precinct Headquarters for several months. The Officers there were a bit surprised when I showed up with Detective Theo Washington in tow, but they seemed to be doing their jobs efficiently and everything looked good.

Precinct Captain Damien Thompson met us at the Duty Desk and escorted us to the Conference Room. It was about the size of a classroom at my Headquarters, and the exposed brick back wall and polished floor planking gave it a certain charm.

"Yes sir," said PCpt. Thompson, his gold Captain's bars reflecting the overhead lights, "I was reading the logs about it. Four calls came in on Saturday. All of them in one area, in adjoining neighborhoods. Two calls came in Saturday morning, when families got up and found their dogs dead in their backyards."

"How were they killed?" I quickly asked before Thompson could move on.

"Shot, both dogs. All four dogs, actually." said Thompson. "Officers went door-to-door, but no one claimed to have heard anything. I might add that the neighborhood is relatively quiet, but once you get onto main roads, it starts touching the area we call the 'Southwestern Ghetto'. Gunfire and cars backfiring can be heard frequently, and kids will set off fireworks sometimes."

I did not have to be told that these neighborhoods were predominately black, lower middle income homes. I also did not need to be told that people in these neighborhoods made a point to not see or hear anything.

"What breed of dogs were they?" I asked as I took notes.

"Mutts." said Thompson. "Patrolman Culver made some good observations and notes. He said one looked like a terrier, not very big, and the other looked like a boxer, but not as big as a normal boxer."

"I see. Okay, what about the other two?" I asked.

"Those were called in later that afternoon, and one of those was witnessed." said Thompson, looking at notes as he talked. "Twelve-year-old kid named Jerome -----. It's not clear if the dog was his or not. He said..." He paused, and I noted a look of tension on Thompson's face.

"What?" I asked, peering hard at him. "What is it?"

"Commander," said PCpt. Thompson, "the kid said that the man who shot the dog was a police officer."

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

Theo and I followed in my Police SUV as Precinct Captain Thompson drove in his Police Cruiser through the neighborhoods where the crimes had occurred. We stopped in front of a house that was old but in decent repair. Tricycles and toys were in the front yard.

"Hi, Jerome." said Thompson to a twelve year old black boy sitting on the front porch. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"I already told the other cops everything." said Jerome.

"You know who the Iron Crowbar is, don't you?" asked Thompson.

"Yeah." said Jerome, his eyes widening just a little.

"Good." I said, coming around the back of my vehicle. "Will you talk to me for a minute?"

"Oh wow...." Jerome said, his eyes widening a lot more and his voice almost a whisper as he saw me walk up with the red crowbar in hand, Tilley hat on my head. "You are real!"

"Yes I am." I said. I went up and sat down beside Jerome, who was too stunned to move. "Tell me what happened with the dog, Jerome."

"I was riding my bike up and down the street." said Jerome. "Dog was on the porch. A police car came up and stopped right in front of me. Cop got out and asked me what my name was. I told him 'Jerome', and he said 'Is that your dog?'. I said he just hung out here sometimes. So the cop went in the yard up to the dog, pulled out his gun and shot the dog." Jerome looked disturbed at the memory.

"Was the dog barking, was he going after the cop?"

"Naw, man, Dog didn't make a sound. Just sittin' there." Jerome said.

"What happened then?" I asked.

"I yelled out 'Whatcha doin', man?' and the cop pointed his gun at me." said Jerome. "I thought I was dead, but he just said 'Say anything to anybody, and I'll kill you.' Then he got back in his cop car and drove off."

"Anybody else see it?" I asked.

"People started coming up after the cop left." Jerome said. "I don't know what they saw."

"Jerome," I asked, "was he wearing a uniform like mine, or like Captain Thompson's here?" We were both wearing light blue shirts with dark pants.

"Naw, he was wearing a dark blue cop shirt, like the street cops." Jerome said. "And a dark blue cop hat." By that he meant the standard police officer's highwall cap.

"Was he tall? Short? Skinny? Fat?" I asked. "White? Black?"

"He was a crack---- uh, white." said Jerome. "Not as tall as you, I.C., but tall. I couldn't see much of his face and he was wearing shades. Kind of a mean looking face."

For some reason beyond my kith or kin, I had an insight as I looked at the police cars. "Jerome," I asked, "what did his police car look like? Did they look like those?" I was pointing at my silver SUV and Thompson's all-bluish-gray police cruiser."

"Naw, his car was black and white. Black front and back, white doors. Police badge on the sides."

"Like my badge?" I asked, letting him look at the 5-pointed gold Star with an encircling wreath.

"Not on the car. The badge on the car was like the cops on TV wear, big and silver."

"I see." I said. "What about the badge on his shirt?"

"Yeah, it was sort of like yours," Jerome said, "but it wasn't gold, more between gold and silver, like faded gold."

After a few more minutes with Jerome, I told him I'd do what I could to find the guy and kick his ass for killing the dog, then we walked back to the cars.

"Damien," I said, "let's go to the neighborhood where the first killing was called in."

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

I looked around the site. The dog had been in a fenced-in backyard. The owners said they'd heard no barking out of him the night before, and had found him dead on the back porch that morning. The dog had been shot near the fence line, and had made it to the porch before collapsing and dying, so I could see from the blood trail.

It was not the owners I really wanted to talk to, but the occupant of the house to their right. Knocking on the door, I was admitted by Mrs. Campbell, the owner, an elderly black woman.

"I don't know about this." she said. "The Iron Crowbar in my house is an omen. You know I shouldn't be talking to you. My people and the cops don't have a good history. But the big man around here, T-Square, he says you are the real deal, so I'll help you if I can."

"I appreciate that." I said. "So you were a teacher at Booker T. Washington High School, were you not?"

She looked at me as if incredulous that I would know that. "We-el, that is right. Thirty-seven and a half years. I had to retire three years ago, when I had to have hip surgery. It hasn't been right since, and I can't get around like I used to."

"I understand." I said. "And your nephew is T-Mac, who is a friend of T-Square, I believe?"

"Yes, that's true." she said. "That boy is in and out of trouble. And that's how you know about me, I guess... checking up on my nephew."

"Don't worry, he's definitely not my biggest problem in this Town." I replied. "But what I wanted to ask you about was what happened last night. Sure you didn't see or hear anything?"

"I told those other police that I didn't hear or see anything." said Old Mrs. Campbell, "because that is what we tell the police. We don't want to get involved, it just brings trouble. But I will tell you, Mr. I.C. Yes, I heard the shot. Not really loud, kind of muffled. But I heard it, and looked out the window. The moon was out, so I could see a man in a police uniform. He was walking out of the yard to his police car."

"Could you see any badges or patches on it?" I asked.

"No sir." she said. "But he had a cop hat on, just like all the cops wear. And he had a big belt with a gun and handcuffs and a radio. I could see the shadows of those."

"What did the police car look like?" I asked. "By that I mean the colors, if it had a lightbar on top, and such."

"Well," said the old woman, "it was all black, or looked black in the darkness. There were lights on the top but they weren't turned on."

"Okay." I said. "I appreciate you telling me this. If you see what you think might be that car or that man again, give me a call. Call 9-1-1 and when the Duty Desk answers, tell them you need to speak to Commander Troy personally about the dog killing, and they'll transfer you to me or my message inbox. And if you hear of any more dog shootings, let me know. I really want to catch this guy."

"I'll do that." said the old lady. "You are the real deal in this Town, just like my nephew and T-Square said..."

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

"What do you make of it, sir?" asked PCpt. Thompson. We were in the Precinct Two Conference room again. I had called Captain Cindy Ross to come down, and she was present with us.

"I don't know." I said. "The TCPD doesn't have any black-and-white police vehicles. They're all blue-gray, with some silver and some all-black SUVs. And they don't have any badge emblems on the sides, though they used to."

"Think Jerome was lying?" PCpt Thompson, who was black himself, asked.

"I don't know." I said. "From your other reports, anyone who actually did comment said that they only saw the back end of a black car. I don't know why Jerome would make up something like that, though."

Cindy asked "What about the badge on his shirt?"

I replied "Jerome said the man's badge was what he called 'faded gold'. Sounds like that material they make high school class rings out of."

"Didn't we have someone impersonating an officer a few years ago?" Cindy asked, "Had a badge like that?" She meant the perp we caught in the Evidence Rooms, who'd committed suicide by cyanide... and was wearing a fake badge with my number on it.

"Yes, I remember that." I said. "And that is causing me to wonder if we have someone impersonating a police officer, going around and killing dogs."

"Why would anyone do that?" Theo Washington asked.

"That is what you are going to find out, Detective Washington." I said. "You are the lead investigator of this case, as of now. Captain Ross, inform Lt. Perlman of my egregious pulling of rank and interference with her Department."

"With pleasure, sir." Cindy said, totally deadpan. PCpt. Thompson laughed heartily, then his humor vanished.

"Sir," Thompson said, "we have to consider that this is a real police officer doing this. Do I need to call Internal Affairs?"

"Yes." I said. "That's good thinking. Yes, go ahead and call Internal Affairs, inform them of the situation. Theo, you also contact I.A. and tell them separately."

Part 3 - The Sheriff is in Town

At 10:00am six cars belonging to the Sheriff's Department pulled up at the construction site just north of University Stadium. They happened to be all six cars that the Sheriff Department owned. Eleven Deputies got out of the cars, followed by Sheriff Daniel Allgood, who made it a compliment of twelve men. Their duties at the Courthouse were being temporarily filled by TCPD Police Officers.

The foreman came out of the trailer, the same guy who had been a bit "touchy" with the Police Commander earlier in the day. He saw that the Deputies were very well armed, had their armor vests on, and were very ready for trouble.

"Good morning." said Sheriff Allgood, wearing a Sheriff's uniform and his Stetson hat, his armor underneath his shirt. "Are you the foreman here?"

"Who wants to know?" the man said.

"I do. I am Sheriff Daniel Allgood----"

"You got a warrant to be here?" the man snarled.

"I don't need one." said Daniel. "As Sheriff, I have full jurisdiction over State property within this County. That includes the University and this piece of property here, and I don't need a warrant to be here. What is your name?"

"I think you have to have a warrant to be here." snarled the man. "If you don't have one, get the hell out of here."

"And who are you going to call to enforce that?" Allgood asked. "*I* am the Law here. Now show me your I.D."

"You can go to hell."

"Deputy, place this son of a bitch under arrest. Take him to County Jail. No calls to a lawyer. He can sit and rot in there until he identifies himself." Deputies moved to enforce the Sheriff's orders.

"All right, all right." the man said, reaching for his back pocket. Twelve guns were drawn and aimed at him.

"What the fuck is going on with you people?" the man gasped. "I'm getting out my wallet."

"Do it slowly, buddy, or you might end up shot dead." said Allgood, his own gun inches from the man's head. "My Deputies are just looking for an excuse to blow you away for being a fucking asshole with me; and quite frankly, I'd be very happy if they did just kill you now and save me any further trouble."

The man was in shock as he produced his I.D., which Allgood examined. He also noticed that several of the construction crew had gathered around, and some were trying to conceal the fact they had weapons.