Lady Ironside Ch. 02

"You better believe it." Cindy said, smiling at Parker. "Good job, Rebel." She meant Teddy's affiliation with Ole Miss.

"Someone is about to get a nickname." said Joanne, most astutely.

"Oh, we're past 'about to'." I said with a grin.

Part 9 - Break In the Case

At 1:15pm, still Monday, September 5th, I was called on the phone by a somewhat excited Tanya Perlman.

"Commander, we just got something!" she said.

"Who is 'we', and what is it?" I asked.

"Oh... 'we' are myself and Sandra Speer, and what we have is a connection between Paul Claisson and smuggling PEDs into the United States, and guess who is distributing them to sports teams and athletes across the nation?"

"APC Trucking?"

"Close." Tanya said. "APC mostly stays in the State, due to tax considerations and possibly other things... like an owner on probation crossing State Lines a bit too often for his Parole Officer's liking. So APC's hubs in the City and Southport have contracts with someone else you might have heard of... Domingo Shipping. Out-of-State goods are brought into and out of APC hubs by Domingo. I daresay Domingo would be handling the Nextdoor County shipping if you hadn't have busted Domingo's son for killing that tranny the son was dating."

"Wow." I said. "And that adds a layer of reason to why Cash wanted out of his Southport hub."

"Maybe." said Tanya. "But anyway, the FBI is helping me establish pipelines that are possibly being used to bring PEDs, steroids, and other such things into the United States, and distributing them. It seems the FBI has a lot of understanding of these pipelines, and they say it's because a certain Commander shut down his nephew Ned, Coach Brian Harlan, and a certain Pastor who was unlucky enough to be taken on a helicopter ride of the most terminal kind."

I was laughing and had trouble stopping. "And now you're tying this all up in a big bow." I said. "That's great work, Tanya. If the Jack's boss in the FBI does not make you an FBI consultant, I will have to have strong one-way talk with him, which might include a crowbar spanking."

"I can assure you..." said another voice on the line, "... that such an offer is under consideration right now." The voice was Jack Muscone's. He had been listening in, the fucker!

"NSA has nothing on the FBI when it comes to listening in on phone calls, I see." I said with mock severity. "You owe me a big double-cheeseburger dinner for this one, Jack."


"I'll cook the burgers on the fire used in your Salem Witch Trial, Don." replied Jack.

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

"I don't want to rush you, Mr. Crowbarrr," said Chief Moynahan as Cindy and I sat in his office with him at 3:00pm that afternoon, "but the sooner an arrest is made in this Darby Cash case, the happier we all will be."

"Our FBI friends and Tanya Perlman will be here in an hour." I said. "The key here is to get the evidence needed for a good court case and to secure a conviction. We have means and opportunity; I am still looking for motive."

"And proof." said Cindy. "If we don't find Jerry Kidd and Paul Claisson, and get them to tell us something, we may never get it."

"We'll see." I said. "Maybe someone will come up with something in the meeting this afternoon." That got Cindy peering at me.

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

I was shocked when the door to my office was darkened by no less than the Deputy Director of the FBI, Jack's boss.

"May I come in, Commander?" he asked.

"By all means, sir." I said, standing up out of respect. Cindy had been sitting on my sofa, and also stood up. "I had no idea you were also coming to this meeting." I said.

He did not reply, but peered around my office, seeing the framed drawing of me by Gunny Sergeant Guernica's son, the matchstick-and-toothpick Trojan Horse, the painting of the Fall of Troy still on the floor and leaning against the wall, and my citations on the wall to the right of my desk.

"Captain Ross," said the DepDirector. "How many medals and citations has the Commander been awarded since joining this Police Force?"

"Oh, gosh, sir." Cindy said. "He's gone 'silver oak leaf' on Achievement Medals, almost there on Commendations Medals, and of course several higher awards including two Medals of Valor." Silver oak leaf clusters were used to denote five instances of an award; an Achievement Medal with a silver cluster meant the wearer had earned six such medals.

"Yes." said the Deputy Director. "Yet on this wall, all I see are citations for two well-deserved Medals of Valor, the Purple Order, the Orange Order, and a Commendation Medal... which was awarded to the Commander's dog. Now that, Captain, is modesty in the finest degree."

"Yes sir." Cindy said, peering hard at the Deputy Director, knowing he was trying to convey something to her.

"Well, shall we go into the meeting?" said the DepDirector. We headed for the Main Conference Room.

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

As Tanya Perlman looked over the reports I had given her, the meeting settled in. The Chief was at the near end, and I was at the far end. Cindy was to my left, Sandra Speer to her left, Tanya at the Chief's right, closest to the door. Martin Nash was to the Chief's left, then Lindy Linares, the DepDirector in the center, then Lt. Masters, then Myron Milton to my right. Teddy Parker was squeezed in next to me, but had sat back from the table to give his legs some space.

"This case has acquired a scope that has crossed State lines, so the FBI is coming into the investigation." said the DepDirector. "But the murder case is yours, and to that end, we hope you'll be able to solve things very quickly, so we can begin pulling at the loose threads."

"Understood, Mr. Director." said the Chief. "And I am glad all of you are here today, to help us with that. I'm sure the Iron Crowbar won't mind if we offer some assistance to his great mind?"

"Not at all." I said. "I'm stuck on the motive part. The means and opportunity are self-evident."

"Sir," said Tanya, "am I reading this right that Mrs. Cash did file for divorce from her husband?"

"Yes." I said. "The Court had not notified him of the filing, though."

"Even so," Tanya said, her eyes beginning to twinkle, "he might've known or found out. And that's motive, right there."

"True." I said. "Good observation."

"Sooooo," said Chief Moynahan, "anyone want to put forth any ideas on who did the dastardly deed?"

"You know the Iron Crowbar's not going to answer." said Cindy. "Not without sufficient data, of course." A red crowbar was waved in her general direction.

"I could make a case for any of these suspects." said Martin Nash. "Claisson was involved with the wife of a football coach, who might've been a conduit for PEDs for his football players. That stuff is getting more and more sophisticated, you know."

Nash continued: "As you guys just pointed out, Mr. Cash might have several reasons for killing his wife. Maybe he hit her and knew if he didn't kill her she might tell the Police? Maybe she was threatening his probation in some way? And then there's Tina Sasskind. I'm not seeing the motive as clearly, since she was Melissa's friend. Maybe they had an argument, and Tina thought Melissa would tell Coach Sasskind of his wife's infidelity."

"We need to weave those ideas a little tighter." said Jack Muscone.

"Captain Ross?" asked the Chief.

"All I can say right now," said Cindy, "is that I keep thinking of Dame Agatha Christie."

I smiled. "That the spouse is always guilty?" I asked.

Cindy nodded. "And I think part of my problem is that I want the guy to be guilty. But I don't have a lick of proof."

"Yes, proof is what we need." I said. "But don't abandon those thoughts too quickly. Dame Agatha Christie was a wise woman; best ye heed her words."

"Wait!" Tanya gasped. She was thinking hard. "Yes... yes... okay..." I watched her face with interest, sending good energy and good thoughts her way.

She looked around the room, then said "It's circumstantial, but I'm sure of who it is, and I think I can prove it. The killer is..."

To be continued.

Has the Iron Crowbar been outsmarted?

We shall see... So, dear readers, who did it? And what is the proof?