Homewrecker Ch. 02

This story is part of an ongoing series. The chronological order of my stories is 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.

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Part 7 - Executive Privilege

3:15pm, Friday, November 15th. I went into my office, followed by the Sheriff. From my coat closet I pulled out my armored vest, then pulled out a second one. It was smaller, had 'SHERIFF' on it instead of 'POLICE', and by sheer coincidence, I am sure, perfectly fit Our Sheriff.

After helping each other 'suit up', we headed down the hallway towards the front lobby. Lt. Commander Teresa Croyle joined us, also wearing an armored vest. She said "SWAT is gearing up and will come through the booking door if they need to. Elliot Sanders has three lawyers and six security men with him. They're in suits and may have armor underneath. He's wearing a t-shirt and jeans, of all things."

Elliot Sanders, CEO of MegaTech Industries, looked to be very young, as in late-20s-to-early-30s kind of young, but was ten years older. He'd founded MegaTech out of the basement of his parents' home. He had curly brown hair, a boyish face, was 'not tall', being the Sheriff's height. He wasn't bulky muscular, but was extremely toned and fit, and looked like he'd be a pretty strong contestant in the Police Boxing Matches. And he always wore tight fitting t-shirts to show off his physique. His wife was Chinese, so maybe he had some moves that would keep Cindy Ross at bay. But not the red crowbar...

We got to the metal door that led to the lobby, and I peeked at the monitor at the Duty Desk Station. "Ready, Sheriff?" I said. "And you're not going in front of me."

"I'm right behind you, Crowbar." he growled, then muttered: "Like always." I chuckled, then got serious as the Duty Desk Sergeant buzzed the door open.

We stepped out into the lobby, followed by six armed and armored Uniformed Officers. As soon as he saw us, Elliot Sanders lit into us. "Where is my Events Coordinator? Why have you arrested her and dragged her down here?" he practically shouted at us.

"Why are you bringing armed men into my Police Station?" I replied strongly.

"Do you realize who I am?" Sanders sneered.

"Yes." I said. "Now ask me if I care. Especially when you bring armed men into my Police Station."

"They're my security." said Sanders. "And they have Federal permits to carry arms as part of their duties."

"Impressive." I said sarcastically. "As to your Events Coordinator, she's a suspect in a murder case... and you need to answer a few questions yourself, Mr. Sanders. Corporal Kirkpatrick, please escort Mr. Sanders to Interrogation-B. His attorneys are welcome to join him. His armed thugs are not."

Elliot Sanders looked like he was about to explode. His security men were going for their guns, which caused me and the Sheriff to walk around Elliot and get between him and them.

"Don't be stupid!" growled Sheriff Griswold. "Unless you just want to know what it feels like to get beat down by the Iron Crowbar."

"The Iron Crowbar?" gasped a stunned Elliot Sanders.

"That's right." I said, exhibiting my red crowbar. "I'm sure your COO Kara Zorn has mentioned me to you. Go with Corporal Kirkpatrick now, Mr. Sanders, before things get... ugly. And remember... we're all armed and armored. You, by way of stark contrast, are not."

"I need my security men with me." said Sanders. "To keep me safe." He meant safe from me, I guessed..

"You are in a Police Station." I replied. "We have more guns than you... a lot more guns. You can take that as either a positive or a negative regarding your safety, but the bottom line is that your security men are not coming any further into this Police Station... and you are going to be questioned by me..."

"Then I'll leave." said Sanders.

"Ears are to hear with, Mr. Sanders." I said, turning and facing him. "You will go in there and answer my questions. Or you can be arrested, taken through full booking, and then be taken in there to answer my questions."

Sanders glanced over at Sheriff Griswold, who said "You are not in charge here, Mr. Sanders. I am. May I suggest you adopt a more... cooperative attitude."

Sanders capitulated, and went with Corporal Kirkpatrick.

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

Once in I-B, I came around the table and sat down, facing the CEO of MegaTech Industries and darling of the Mainstream Media. "Mr. Sanders," I said, "you're not a suspect in the murder. I only have a couple of questions. First, what time did you arrive at Suite 801 last night?"

Sanders's lawyer nodded at him, and Sanders answered "My wife and I arrived about 4:00pm yesterday, give or take."

"And Events Coordinator Deborah Wilkins escorted you to Suite 801, and gave you the key to the suite?" I asked. "She always does that?"

"Yes, she took us up there." said Elliot Sanders. "And yes, that's the norm for events like this one. But she didn't give me the key to the room. Usually one or more of my security keeps the keys."

"Keys? Plural?" I asked.

"Sure, in case my wife and I come back to our room at separate times." said Sanders. "Doesn't happen often, but just in case, you know."

"I see." I said. "Where were you from the time you got there until 2:00am this morning?"

"My wife and I got some rest when we first arrived, so we were in the room until just before dinner." said Sanders. "That dinner with my top executives was around 7:30pm, nothing formal, just some good food and talk. There was a more formal reception at 9:00pm, and we were there until well past midnight. We went back to the suite around 1:00am, again give or take, and we went to bed."

"There are four bedrooms in your suite." I said. "Your security was in the other three rooms?"

"I have a valet, who is also a trained security man." said Elliot. "He was in one of the other bedrooms. The other rooms were empty."

"Did you hear any noises at all?" I asked. "Like fighting, or screaming, or literally a bump in the night?"

"Nothing at all." said Sanders.

"Why did you have the four-bedroom suite?" I asked. "Were you planning on entertaining guests?"

"I usually don't." said Sanders. "Ms. Wilkins assigned the suite, and gave me the largest and best one, though I didn't really need a suite that big. I usually have my meetings in conference rooms, or side rooms reserved for meetings."

"Let me ask this." I said. "Why did you come here, to the Town & County Hyatt Hotel, for this conference? Don't you usually have conferences like this at the really big hotels?

"This isn't one of the very biggest conferences we have." said Sanders. "And by coming here, we can bring in our associates that work for your great University here. And my wife was planning to make an appearance at the University Hospital Cancer Center and make a donation to help advance their good work there."

"I'm sure they'll be grateful." I said. "Is your COO Kara Zorn planning on coming to the conference?" I asked, trying to keep my voice as casual as possible. But I did not fool Sanders, and he did not fool me: he looked at me with something of a gleam in his eye.

"Kara is always welcome at our conferences." said Sanders. "But she might be unable to attend this particular one, due to... other commitments."

"Mmm hmm." I said. "That's unfortunate. My wife has 'encouraged' me to make Ms. Zorn's acquaintance."

"I'm sure Kara is way too busy to have time to talk to a local cop." said Sanders, intentionally haughty.

"I couldn't agree more." I said affably but mockingly. "But so are you... and here we are. Sheriff, do you have any questions for Mr. Sanders?"

"No." said the Sheriff. "But I want better cooperation from his people in solving this murder... cooperation we have not been getting so far."

"I'm sure everyone at MegaTech Industries will be as helpful as they can legally be." said Sanders. "Of course, my Legal Department will want to be at any future interrogations, for the protection of my employees's rights, of course."

"Of course." I said. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Sanders. Ms. Wilkins is already being represented by legal counsel, but Mr. Bart Bell might need the help of one of your attorneys."

"Who?" Sanders blurted out. Then he caught himself and said "John, give them your card. Sheriff, Chief, if you'll just call that number for any legal needs, I'm sure you'll be quickly accommodated."

I took the card, noting the lawyer's name 'John Proctor' under the Prodder, Ryder & Reems law firm name. Sanders got up and led his legal beagles out of the room, and ultimately out of Headquarters.

"What was that bit about your wife about?" growled the Sheriff.

I replied: "I was hoping Ms. Zorn would attend, so that I can reunite her with a friend of hers... girl named Keiko Shimono. Peas in a pod, those two are... peas in a pod..."

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

3:50pm. Back to Interrogation-1, with Deborah Wilkins and Gwen Munson.

"Okay," I said, "let's get real here, Ms. Wilkins. First of all, Kara Zorn never had and never will have any intention of setting foot in this State again, if she knows what's good for her. If you're not aware of a little incident in Palmyra County last June, I'd suggest you ask around." (Author's note: 'Long Cool Woman', Ch. 02-03.) "Isn't that right, Ms. Munson?"

"So what?" snarled Gwen Munson.

"So I'm skeptical of your client's story that Suite 802 was reserved for Kara Zorn." I replied. "And here's another point to that: Kara Zorn is the social butterfly of the top-tier brass of the company. She would be likely to have many people in her suite, and would be the more logical choice to have a big four-bedroom suite like 801 or 816 on the other end. By way of contrast, Elliot Sanders conducts his business with others at dinners and offices, not hotel rooms. He values his privacy, and so a two-bedroom suite like Rm. 802 is what he normally is given."

Munson said "Are you really suggesting the CEO of MegaTech Industries is responsible for the murder? If you are, I'm taking my client here out of your Police Station right now."

"She's going nowhere." said Detective Rodriguez venomously.

"Unless and until she cooperates, and gives us names." I said. "Ms. Wilkins, who were you really going to give Suite 802 to tonight? Or did give to, as I believe is the case."

Deborah Wilkins looked defeated. She finally said "I didn't give it out. And it could've been taken out of the box without being issued."

"That would be worse than sloppy of your staff, Ms. Wilkins." I replied. "And your attempt to set them up for conspiracy to commit murder will blow up in your face when one of them sings like a canary after I arrest them."

"That's a load of crap." Gwen Munson said.

"Say one more word, and I'll do it just to show you I can." I replied. To Deborah Wilkins I said "I want a specific name for who was in Suite 802 last night." I asked.

"There are at least twelve persons it could be." said Ms. Wilkins. "And the company will have to give you their names."

"All right, then." I said. "Let's go, Detective. We're not getting any cooperation here. Ms. Wilkins simply isn't giving us any useful information, and what she has given us doesn't have a shred of truth in it. Absolute fabrications, is all we're getting."

"Prove it." said Gwen Munson.

As Julia and I got up, Deborah Wilkins said "Am I free to go?"

"Oh, not at all." I said. "Not until I know for sure who had that room key last night. And I'm going to make your lawyer actually do some work and bail you out. And that reminds me... you do still work for Prodder, Ryder & Reems, Ms. Munson?"

"What of it?" Gwen snarled, her face dark and visibly angry.

"Just wanted to be sure." I said with that brief smile that adversaries of Your Iron Crowbar do not ever want to see...

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

Julia was laughing as we walked down the hallway towards MCD. "She just about blew a gasket when you said you were going to make her do some work." she spluttered through her laughter, meaning Gwen Munson.

"Yes, she did." I said with a grin. "So, Detective Rodriguez, what do you make of all that?"

Julia replied "I think Wilkins is trying to protect someone. I agree with you that she or one of her staff did give that key out. I'll go find out who was issuing keys and start asking questions."

"Good idea." I said. "Look, find Mr. Marcos and the other Event Staff people that might know what's going on. Grill the hell out of them. Bring them to Headquarters if need be, and I'll put them through the wringer."

"Yes sir." Julia said. Then she asked, her voice inquisitive, "Sir, something has been nagging me, especially after you mentioned Kara Zorn not wanting to come back to this State again... why would MegaTech Industries even consider having a big conference like this here, in our Town & County much less this State?"

"That is an outstanding question to be asking, Ms. Rodriguez." I said. "That is Iron Crowbar thinking. I am also more than a little curious why they chose this County. I asked Elliot Sanders that, and he gave a massively lame answer... which makes me think the question is far more important than they want us to realize..."

Part 8 - City Rats

Meanwhile...

3:00pm, Friday, November 15th. Detectives Theo Washington and Teddy Parker arrived at the bank branch in the southern part of the City; not the worst parts like the Railyards to the southeast, not the better parts like the suburbs to the southwest.

"You'd figure an airport and railroad guy would be in the northeast sector of the City." said Parker, who was riding shotgun.

"Commander Troy said the bank we're seeing him at is probably not the one he works out of." Theo replied. "Keep your eyes peeled on this one. I'd rather be doing this when the bank is open."

"I think we'll be okay." said Parker. "We're officially under Moe Molinari's protection."

The Detective went to the backdoor and knocked, and the door was opened by a very attractive blonde woman in her late 20s. "We're the Police, ma'am." said Theo. "We're here to see Charles Caldwell, by appointment."

"Of course." said the woman. "Come on in." The Detectives came in and the woman made sure the door was closed (and locked) behind them. They went down the corridor to a door, which the blonde woman indicated they were to enter. When they did, they were greeted by the sight of a man in his early 40s, curly hair just beginning to gray, perhaps with the aid of some highlighter, and just a hint of oiliness about him.

He was sitting behind his desk with feet propped up on the corner of it. He was wearing a white button-down shirt, suspenders, brown pants and socks, and tan shoes. Expensive tan shoes. He also looked a bit tired and ragged, as if he'd been up most of the night and hadn't gotten enough sleep.

"Mr. Molinari asked me to speak to you today." Caldwell said after the Officers introduced themselves. "So let's not waste time. What do you need to know?"

"Thank you for seeing us today." said Theo. "Sir, we're aware that you went through a divorce some years ago, and a mistress named 'Beryl' was involved?"

"Oh yeah, her." said Caldwell. "I'll be crude about it: she was a magnificent piece of ass. Made me forget the difference between getting a piece of ass and falling in love. I kept her with me far longer than I ever should have, and it got back to some people, who told my wife."

"Who were those people, sir?" asked Parker.

"I don't know for sure." said Caldwell, taking his feet off the desk and sitting upright in his chair. "Word I got was someone out of Southport hired some guys who were inserted into my security team."

"Jealous boyfriend?" asked Theo.

"Could be. Could well be." said Caldwell. "But it could've been a 'Family' thing. Beryl was related to a connected guy down there, but why he would care that I was porking her, I dunno. I never knew, and never really cared. I was glad to be free of my wife, to tell you the truth. They did me a favor."

"Who were the guys on the security team that snitched?" asked Theo. "We might like to talk to them, too."

"They left my employ when the divorce papers were served." Caldwell said. "I don't even remember who they are, so I couldn't tell you where they are now."

"What about Beryl?" asked Parker. "Seen her since the divorce?"

"Oh yeah, several times." said Caldwell. "Like I said, she was truly a magnificent piece of ass. The best I ever had... except for my English teacher in high school, who took on the whole football team, and came back for more of my turkeyneck."

"And the last time you saw her? Beryl?" asked Parker.

"Uh, six months ago, maybe?" said Caldwell. "I know she had other boyfriends beside me. She preferred being a kept woman to being a working girl, but I heard that she was starting up her own stable of girls."

"Here, in the City?" Theo asked.

"Midtown." said Caldwell. "And she was spending more of her time down there, and in Southport, than up here, which is why I didn't see her all that often. In fact, the last three, four months or so, she stayed in Southport."

"Sir," said Parker, "where were you last night, from 7:30pm to 3:00am?"

"Ah, now you're getting to it." said Caldwell. "Yes, I know Beryl was murdered last night. Fortunately for me, I do have an alibi. I was at a dinner with some of the bank's clients. Our bank's president can vouch for me, as well as some of my colleagues that were there. We were at the dinner, which was at the Marriott Grande Hotel, until after midnight, and we had rooms booked there. I went up with a couple of guys and some girls, and we partied until... rather late." Without being asked, Caldwell wrote down some names and numbers and reached over the desk to deposit the piece of paper where Parker could reach out and take it.

"Who were these clients you were meeting?" asked Parker as he looked at the list. "It'd help if they could vouch for you, too."

"I'm sure." said Caldwell. "Let's just say they work with the Railroads, and I'd rather not give their names unless I have to. One reason we have their business is because of our... discretion."

"All right, we won't press it. For now." said Theo. "So who told you Beryl was dead?"

"Moe Molinari, when he called to tell me to talk with you." said Caldwell. "He also said you work for the Iron Crowbar, and that it would be very unwise for me to mess around. And I agree: I don't want that bastard anywhere near me or my businesses."

"We appreciate your taking the time to talk to us." said Parker, standing up. "If you have any information that might help us track down Beryl's killer or killers, let us know." He extended his card to Caldwell over the desk, and Caldwell took it. The Detectives left.

Once back in their car, with Theo behind the wheel, he said "What do you make of that?"

"Two things." Parker said. "First, he was probably banging that girl in there before we got here. And second, all that was an act, from sitting there with his feet propped up to the information he was feeding us. Soooooo, let's go to the Marriott Grande Hotel and see if we can confirm his alibi. But first, we need to talk to Earl Edwards..."

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

It looked like any 'social club', such as a VFW or American Legion room, on the corner of one of the many City streets on the east side, near the north-flowing river. The sign above the door said 'Pipefitters No. 444' on it. It was the local headquarters of the Union.