Jupiter Rising Ch. 04

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"Bettina didn't mention that Senator Edmunds's home was burned down." Teresa said as we watched in my office. "Hell of a price to pay for voting his conscience. I can relate." (Author's note: 'Schoolhouse Rock', Ch. 03-04.)

"So can I." I said. "And my family was in the house when it was set on fire." (Author's note: 'Seriously Inconvenienced', Ch. 04.)

"I should probably not say this." said Tanya. "But what does it say when people can't speak freely or act in good conscience without being assaulted, their families attacked, and their homes set on fire?"

"More than I care to say out loud." I said. "Okay, let's do what we can for the freedom of this little corner of the world. What's going on in our Town & County?..."

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

At 9:30am, my assistant Helena said I had a visitor. It was Detective Tracy Stone. I had her come in. I invited her to sit down, but she remained standing.

"I just came by to thank you, sir." she said. "Carmela was trying to shove me into a sewer, and without your help, he'd have succeeded."

"Maybe not; you're a tough fighter." I replied. "But yeah, Carmela is a very evil man, requiring constant vigilance. It's too bad we won't be able to make those perjury charges stick, but he'll trip up somewhere, sometime... and I'll be there."

D.A. Walters had elected to 'not pursue' the perjury case against Carmela, as it was thin to begin with, and indeed I had interrogated the fat bastard after he'd asked for a lawyer. But I'd gotten what I wanted, the papers on Tracy Stone that he had... and he was now very aware that I was gunning for him, and might not be constrained by the law next time...

"I still appreciate it." said Stone. "I do have one question: any openings in the TCPD I could apply for?"

"No." I said candidly. "First of all, the berths are full. Second, Detective Rodriguez is one of my best Detectives, and she despises you with a passion. May I suggest working on that."

"Yes sir." said Tracy Stone.

"The other thing that bothers me," I said, "is some of your political beliefs. You're entitled to them, but you can't let them get in front of you and cloud your impartial judgement. And the Second Amendment... that's sacred."

"I get what you're saying about impartial judgement." said Stone. "But on the Second Amendment, we'll just have to agree to disagree on that one."

I nodded. "By the way, you're going to be getting a call from an FBI Assistant Special Agent In Charge. I told her you might be good for her team. Make sure you don't embarrass me by proving me wrong on that."

"Uh.. thank you, sir." Tracy said. "And I probably shouldn't ask this... but why are you going out of your way to help me?"

"Two reasons." I said. "One, to rub Carmela's nose in his own dung. And two... you protected my daughter from him. I don't forget people who help my daughter like that."

Tracy Stone nodded. "She's a wonderful girl. She's going to be a great Detective like her father one day."

"She's already better than me." I said. "An I'm scared to death of what's going to happen when she becomes a teenager, and actually begins believing she's better than me."

Tracy chuckled at that. "Why do I get the feeling that you can handle her? Anyway, thank you again. And the FBI? That may be something to think about."

"Yes." I said. "And if I don't miss my guess... and I rarely do... you'll do well with them..."

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

I had two missions that took me out of Town. The first was to meet State Senators Jimmy Cerone and Moe Molinari at the Midtown Luigi's restaurant.

"It was a near thing." said Cerone as we enjoyed the delicious new Cajun Shrimp Fettuccine Alfredo recipe he'd introduced recently. "If it had not been for your help, Commander, the Governor would've been gone."

"Yes." said Molinari. "Ross G. Edmunds was one of those that was being blackmailed by Tasheeka Harris, though he did not come forward and give you an affidavit. But once you forced her to admit she did not have McGinty's Materials, he was free to vote his conscience."

"And lost his house to a fire as a result." I said. "Having had my own house burned down while I and my family were in it, that strikes a nerve with me."

"We understand fully." said Cerone. "And I'm a Democrat, and no soft-hearted pansy, but I don't like all this violence going on these days. Not good for the future of the Republic."

"Agreed. So... any chance for a Budget bill this year?" I asked, almost as a joke.

"Har." grunted Cerone. "I don't see it happening. Since everything was wrapped into the omnibus bill last year, if nothing is passed this year the SBI and State Patrol will be funded at the same levels for another year, and the State will continue to function. Next year we'll have a new Governor, no matter what, as Jared is term-limited. So he doesn't have to compromise, and neither do the radical Leftists like Tasheeka Harris and Nina Cortez."

"There is one ray of hope, though." said Molinari. "Katherine Woodburn is being her usual crafty self. I truly believe she is a female reincarnation of Machiavelli. I hope Mr. Cerone won't think I'm talking out of turn when I tell you that Ms. Woodburn has approached us with a compromise bill, one that might actually work out for the majority of the State Houses of the Legislature and the Governor, as well."

"And her payment in exchange?" I asked.

"Her usual: putting the SBI over the local jurisdictions." said Molinari. "But in a very subtle way. She basically wants to take all the drug enforcement money from local jurisdictions, and give it to a new SBI-NTF... basically the SBI-IDE now, but with the mandate to interdict illegal immigration stripped out... and that new NTF will handle all drug cases in the State."

"That won't fly." I said. "Governor Jared won't give up the immigration enforcement. And neither the City nor the Town & County will abide giving up jurisdiction to the SBI on just about anything."

"It's just an idea, and a starting point." said Cerone.

After lunch, I said "Now that the good part of the lunch is done... and it was exceptional, as always, Senator Cerone... I need to tell you why I asked to meet you today." I reached down and picked up my briefcase, opened it, and handed each State Senator a thick file of papers in folders.

"What's this?" Cerone asked as he took his file folder.

"Everything McGinty and the Consultant of Crime had on you." I said. "Ditto that for your file, Senator Molinari."

You could've heard a pin drop. Both former Mobsters were looking at me in sheer disbelief. And you better believe I had the anti-bugging device set to 'kill'... well, full power.

"So McGinty's Materials are real." said Cerone as he looked at the contents of his file.

"Were real. I've destroyed all of them." I replied. "And the true story is that I did not find them. Someone else did, and eventually gave them to me. Most of the data is worthless, outdated, as you'll see when you look at your own data. And that's everything McGinty had on you. I'm not holding anything back."

"Why... why are you doing this?" asked Molinari.

"You both have helped me at times, and I hope that'll continue." I said. "And you were very helpful with the Impeachment issues, and the Haters in the Legislature coming after me."

"Did you read this material, Commander?" Cerone asked.

"Every word." I said. "Most of it, I already knew about anyway. And I had to know, in case someone else comes after you claiming to have that data... like Tasheeka Harris trying to make her false claims."

"And before you say it... yes, I know what you're thinking." I continued. "That I'm dangerous to you because of that knowledge. But you knew that anyway. And you know that I have friends, too... friends that would be most very angry if something happened to me and either of you were involved in any way."

"Amazing." said Cerone. "You are truly a fearless man, Commander Troy."

"But he's right." said Molinari. "He's safe from us, and now we know what our enemies had on us. I appreciate your generosity, Commander. I am sure that if I can repay you by helping you out sometime, you only have to ask to receive that help." I shook his outstretched hand.

"Same for me." said Cerone as we shook hands. "So you had McGinty's Materials all along. All that power..."

"Like I said, sir," I said, "most of the data was outdated, from the Consultant of Crime's time. Almost everything was past the Statute of Limitations."

"And power?" I said, holding up the red crowbar. "My power, my true power, flows from a different place..."

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

Edward Blassingame was brought into the Federal Prison interrogation room and handcuffed to the table. His lawyer Gwen Munson was brought in a moment later.

"What's this about?" Edward asked.

"I don't know." Gwen said. "I was told someone wanted to see you, and that I should be present."

"How's Peter doing?" Edward asked.

"Since he was captured after the escape attempt," Gwen said, "he's been very depressed. He's on suicide watch. He's talking of dropping his appeals so that he can get the execution overwith."

"Damn." said Edward. After a long pause full of gloom, he finally looked over at Munson and said "It's over for him, isn't it? It's really over."

"We're fighting like hell." said Gwen. "We're going to go through every legal recourse we have. And there's an Election this November. We get the right person in as Governor, and we'll work to get Peter clemency. A commutation of his sentence. Maybe outlawing the Death Penalty altogether..."

They were interrupted by the opening of the door. The tall, broad-shouldered redheaded man in a trenchcoat walked up slowly to them. I took the small chair on the other side, pulled it back, and sat down at an angle to them.

"What the fuck do you want, Troy?" grunted Edward Blassingame, his voice full of unappeasable hatred for me.

"I want you to listen to some news." I said. "Your son Peter was captured while attempting to escape prison. He was captured because I anticipated and interdicted your plan to break him out. You must think I am stoo-pid, but I obviously am not."

I continued: "But I'm growing tired of people being murdered, and other good people having to risk their lives because of your antics to free your son from Death Row. I am here to tell you that your son will be executed by the State for his crimes... unless you continue to annoy me with these silly escape attempts."

I went on: "The next time Peter Blassingame attempts to escape prison, he won't survive it. He will simply be shot dead rather than be recaptured alive. And that's if anyone catches him, not just me. The order is out... shoot to kill, ask no questions."

"And if he attempts to escape again, or if you come after my family, my extended family, my friends, or my Police Officers," I growled, "then Peter is going to be found dead... suicide like Epstein. And you will be found dead... suicide like Epstein."

I glanced at Gwen and said: "And you, Ms. Munson... oh, don't even try to tell me you had no part in the last escape attempt... if it happens again, you will be found gang-raped, your eyes gouged out, and your tongue cut out. Left alive, but left in such a state that you will wish you were dead."

I got up. "So that's it. Your son has a very slim chance, and years left to live, going through the appeals process. If he tries to escape again, he has less-than-zero chance of survival. Nor do either of you, nor your families. I'm done. You've sown the wind, and you are reaping the whirlwind. You've been warned."

With that, I turned and left. I sensed their hatred, but felt nothing; nothing was touching me right now. Robert Stoddard was dead, and for what? To distract me from being able to recapture Peter Blassingame when he escaped?

I really do get really pissed off when people treat me like I'm an Agency of the Weak-Minded. And Edward Blassingame just learned that, to his existential peril...

Part 22 - Epilogue

Saturday, February 22nd. We were having a party at The Cabin. Superior Court Judge Rodney K. Watts had accepted the Defense motion, and had issued a directed verdict of acquittal to Dr. Stephanie Steele, formally absolving her of the murder of Dr. Robert Stoddard.

"Yes, I've been looking into Lionel Carmela, as well as Terry Toole." I said to Edward Steele and Sheriff Griswold as we talked in the front room while all the ladies (Laura, Molly, Paulina, Cindy, Callie, Stephanie, and Selena) fluttered like parakeets in the greatroom. "I'm starting to find bits and pieces on Carmela and his political shenanigans, but nothing on the rest of it."

I continued: "I'm also looking a lot deeper into the Dr. Robert Stoddard angle. He was working with the U.S. Government a lot more heavily than people realized. I am starting to wonder if he was chosen to be killed not just to frame Stephanie, but for other reasons."

"Like what, Crowbar?" asked the Sheriff as he sipped his bourbon.

"Like he knew too much." I replied. "Or he knew something someone didn't like him knowing. Or he was of too much value to someone, so the Swamp Frogs eliminated him."

"I'm just glad it's over for Stephanie." said Edward. "I was wondering that maybe someone with ties to the Consultant of Crime was doing this... and stealing and using Selena's gun would fit into that angle."

"I haven't found anything that suggests him." I said. "But it doesn't mean you're not right. But Occam's Razor suggests that Carmela's hatred of Stephanie, of you, of me, and especially of Laura may have been the guiding factors. I do have one question, Edward: were there problems between Stephanie and Stoddard?"

Edward said "Obviously I wasn't going to say anything while she was under indictment... but yes, she and Stoddard were beginning to clash more and more. His own theoretical work was okay, but not the truly groundbreaking work that Stephanie has been doing. I don't confess to understand any of it, but she's truly going where no man... nor woman... has gone before with her theories. I think Stoddard was jealous."

I said "And after two of his grants were ended, he may have been afraid of his livelihood as well as his prestige."

"One thing I still don't get." said Edward. "What was all that about the blue purse? Why not just leave the gun in her black purse?"

"Well," I said, "there were no fingerprints on that purse nor the contents, other than Stephanie's. Maybe they thought they'd contaminated Stephanie's purse, which would lead back to them. I say 'them' as plural, but it could be one person, of course."

Griswold growled: "Perp could've cut himself when he opened the drawer, bled on the black purse. So he binds up his wound, transfers the contents to the purse he has, and drives on."

"Detective Griswold got game!" I said with a grin. "That could well be it, though we found no blood on the desk nor drawer. My own theory has been that it was an unnecessary finesse: just another thing for me to think about, to distract me." Everyone nodded.

"So, Crowbar," growled Griswold, "any new connections to those serial killings that were supposedly following Stephanie's formulas?"

"No sir." I said. "But maybe that'll turn up as I keep looking into everything."

Just then, Laura called for us to come over, and I was bidden to sit down on the sofa in the greatroom facing the back windows. Everyone gathered around as Marie, escorted by Carole and the redoubtable Bowser, came up with a wrapped present, obviously a framed photo or painting of some kind.

"I made this for you, Mr. Crowbar," said Marie, "to thank you for helping my mom. And for you talking to me and not letting me give up hope."

"We should never give up hope, should we?" I asked as I began tearing away the wrapping paper. When I saw the contents, I gasped.

"Wowwww." I said in awe. "Marie, this is... amazing!"

In an 11" wide x 17" tall frame was a painting. The edges of the white backing were left undone, like the 'unfinished portrait' of FDR at the Little White House in Warm Springs, GA. In the middle was the painting of me, Your Iron Crowbar.

If one remembers the big banner of Drago in one of the 'Rocky' movies, it was like that. I was looking up and to my right from under my Tilley Hat, facing forward. I was wearing my trenchcoat, and my right side just forward of my left. My red crowbar was in my right hand and across my chest at 'port arms', and in my left hand and arm I was holding the redoubtable Bowser, who was looking forward at whatever I was looking towards.

Everyone was amazed as they all looked at it. "This is wonderful, Marie." I said again, then hugged Marie as if she were my daughter, a hug she very vigorously returned.

Stephanie said "Marie told us that you talked with her on the back deck, and made her feel less scared. We all thank you for that. And of course I appreciate everything you did to help me. It is frightening to be framed like that."

"Don't I know it." said Selena, whom I'd saved from being framed for murder by Angela Harlan, the Black Widow. (Author's note: 'Case of the Black Widow'.)

"I'm glad I was able to be of help." I replied. "And now I have to solve the case of where to display this wonderful painting. Here at home, or in my office at work..."

This first work was amazing for an artist of any age, and even more impressive for a six-year-old. I saw at the bottom, where the painting ended and the 'unfinished' part began, the tiny words 'Marie Steele' worked into the edge. This would become Marie's trademark way of signing her paintings, which over the next several decades would become very sought after... and ultimately very expensive and valuable artwork.

It was the first portrait of me that Marie had painted, but it would not be the last. And that is a story for a future time...

Finis.