Mystery At Mystery Lake Ch. 01

I continued: "As to the SBI, we'll have to let them know at the same time. I'm hoping to use them as a buffer to the FBI, and maybe we can get some real Police work done while they're tripping all over each other."

"Har!" barked Sheriff Griswold, his big handlebar mustaches twitching with merriment. "But your point is well taken, Crowbar. This is potentially a very big, explosive case. It appears at first glance that we have a serial killer on our hands. Which reminds me... what are our plans for the Press?"

"Execution by firing squad?" I suggested. Have I mentioned that I utterly despise the Press? Anyone who knows the Iron Crowbar knows that I believe the biased, dishonest, and corrupt Media (and those adjectives are not redundant) are the true greatest threat to the Constitution of the United States and Individual Freedom.

The Chief chuckled, then said "We were thinking more along the lines of how we're going to mitigate the information they re-ceeeeeive."

"It's going to be hard as hell to keep the genie in the bottle." I said glumly. "If we identify any of the victims, we can withhold their identities pending notification of next of kin, but that will hold them back about 72 hours at best, and KXTC is well known for blatantly spewing names out without regard for the feelings of the families. And I can pull the plug on Tanya's wheelchair for a few minutes, but I have no control over the Nextdoor County Police nor the SBI nor FBI."

"Let's not jump ahead here, folks." Our Sheriff admonished. "We don't even know who the deceased are, not even the most recent one."

"Unless the Iron Crowbar has had a thought or two about it." said the Green Crowbar, Cindy Ross. She carried a green crowbar around, just as I carried my red one, and we were both well-known for doing so. I would always say that 'like the Lone Ranger's mask, these crowbars stand for the law'... and then someone asked me who the Lone Ranger was...

Cindy had what we called 'the Power of the Vibe', a sixth sense of sorts. Our mutual grandmother was a Michaux, and we called it a 'Michaux trait'. I had it to a small degree, and my eight-year-old daughter Carole had it much more strongly than me and Cindy put together.

I knew Cindy had caught my vibe on it, so I said "One thing did occur to me when more than one body showed up. So I sent word to Martha the M.E. to take data that might show two of the missing persons to be Katherine McAfee and/or Tamara Lidell." (Author's note: 'Climate Injustice', Ch. 03 for Katherine; 'Consent of the Governed', Ch. 03 for Tamara.)

"Why do you think it's them?" Cindy asked.

"Because they're missing." I replied, admittedly a bit tartly.

Seeing Cindy's withering look at me, Teresa said cattily. "You walked right into that one, Princess."

Cindy turned her head and looked at her BFF and subordinate Officer, and said in an excellent imitation of Han Solo: "Laugh it up, Fuzzball." The rest of us were the ones laughing, and heartily.

When it died down, I said "No, I don't necessarily think it -is- them, just that it -could- be them. What I also know, because I read the logs every morning, including this morning, is that there are no reports of a missing white, redheaded female in her early 20s."

"Maybe no one has had time to realize she's missing." Tanya astutely said.

"That's very possible." I said. "And I'd like to wait 24 hours or so to see who, if anyone, comes forward to say she's missing."

Sheriff Griswold said "Flip side of that is that if we ask the Public for information on a possibly missing woman with that description, we might get someone to call in and give us a lead on who she is. We don't have to say she's dead nor that she's one of several victims found at the same time, just that we're looking for her."

"And this last victim is our best, if not only hope of finding whoever did these killings and bringing them to Jusss-tissss." drawled the Chief.

"But Don is right, Sheriff, Chief." said Teresa. "Bettina Wurtzburg and Amber Harris of KXTC are so dirty and despicable, they'll tell the world on the air, they'll make damn sure to say the girl is dead, they'll be sure to make the connection that she is the latest in a series of killings of young women in the area whether that's true or not. And they'll enjoy the panic they subsequently cause."

Cindy added: "And the publicity might drive the person or persons responsible into hiding, and cause them to lay low." I nodded vigorously in agreement.

"So where do we go from here, Crowbar?" growled Griswold, in a less than subtle indication that he wanted this meeting to 'concluuuuude' with a solution.

"We have to give the medical examiners, CSIs, and our Intel group time to do their jobs." I said. "One thing I'm going to pay particular attention to is the photos one of the witnesses took, and see if we can get any identification of the perps..."

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

After the meeting, I went to the Sketch Artist offices (more like cubicles in one large office room), where I found Connie The Sketch Artist. In addition to being our main sketch artist, Connie was the official Booking Photographer as well as the Official Photographer of portraits of TCPD Officers.

She was a very pretty Asian-American woman. I'd once asked her which ethnicity of Asian, and she'd said she that in addition to white American blood, she had both Japanese and Korean ancestors... including some from the pre-World-War-Two days when Japan conquered Korea, and Korean women were used for the sexual pleasure of their Japanese conquerers.

That had reminded me of something my ROTC instructor had said when I was in School: "There is no silver medal in war." If you don't want to watch your wives and daughters being used for the sexual pleasure of your conquerers, you damn well better not lose the fight. But I digress...

The old easels and drawing boards still existed, but had largely been replaced by computer technology and 2D-3D modeling capabilities, and as always, I was grateful that the TCPD was able to stay on the forefront of crimefighting technology.

"Yes sir," said Connie, "I pulled the photos out of the Evidence servers and uploaded copies into our computer, here. I'm running a Fourier transform routine on them now, and there's enough lighting that I'm hopeful that composites of their faces from the four photos will be enough to identify them."

"Enough for facial rec?" I asked.

Connie hesitated, then said "Our local facial rec and anything the State has might be good enough, sir. But the FBI's facial rec is so much better than anything anyone else has, they're your best bet to get a good result."

I nodded. "Okay. Keep it local for now. I'll give the green-light to share with the Feds if and when we bring them in on this case, but let's not share with them beforehand. Keep up the great work, and thanks for coming in on a Saturday."

"Anytime, sir." Connie said. "Especially if it helps find whoever is killing these poor girls. And speaking of that, sir: I'm running the girl's face that was buried last night through local facial rec, too. If she's a local, or a University student, maybe something will come up...

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

12:00 high noon, Saturday, May 7th. We assembled in Classroom 'E', which had a large conference table and a 5x4 matrix of monitors on one wall. Present were: Sheriff Griswold, Chief Moynahan, Chief Molly Evans, Your Iron Crowbar (Me), Command Deputy Sheriff Cindy Ross, Deputy Chief Tanya P. Muscone, Lieutenant Commander Teresa Croyle, Captain Paul Price, Captain Claire Michaels, Lieutenant Mary Milton, Lieutenant Joanne Warner, Lieutenant Teddy Parker, Detective Sergeant Julia Rodriguez, Detective John German, Detective Roark Coleman, and Officer Jason Folby.

Also present were FBI Special Agents In Charge Jack Muscone and Clark Webster, Supervisory Special Agents Julius Jefferson and Lindy Linares, and SBI Agents Terence Johnson and James Tarleton. Johnson was a relatively young black man with the SBI's Drugs and Trafficking Division (SBI-DTD), and Tarleton was a young white man, formerly with the University's Campus Police, and now with the SBI's Violent Crimes Division (SBI-VCD).

"Why did you call Lieutenant Warner in?" I had asked Claire Michaels earlier.

"She has a Top Secret clearance, and I'm assigning her to be our liaison to the Feds." Claire replied. I nodded in agreement; that was a logical thing to do, especially since the Miltons refused to work with the Feds.

We had two more special guests, two University professors. One was my wife, Dr. Laura Fredricson, head of the Department of Psychology and holder of the Sigmund Freud Chair of Advanced Psychology. The other was Dr. Richard S. Hughes, head of the Department of Geology and, holder of the Alfred Lothar Wegener Chair of Geology.

Dr. Hughes was a not very tall but very distinguished looking man in his late 50s or early 60s. He had a relatively deep voice, and was well liked by his students. He had volunteered to serve as a Faculty Guidance Counselor for students in the University's Honors Program for many years.

Sheriff Griswold, Chief Moynahan, and I financially collaborated to provide pizzas and Subway subway sandwiches, and it was a good thing I grabbed my own footlong sub first, because that food disappeared quickly. You'd think law enforcement officers (LEOs) didn't get enough to eat.

As we ate, the Chief said "Let's go ahead and get started. Commander Troy, it's your meeting."

"Thank you, Chief." I said. "I normally start with who called it in, but in this case we are fortunate to have Dr. Richard Hughes, head of the University Geology Department, with us, and I'd like to ask him to go first so as not to waste his immensely valuable time. And everyone should remember that University students are paying thousands of dollars to hear the lecture we are being given for free. Dr. Hughes?"

Everyone applauded at least politely as Dr. Hughes got up. Mary Milton plugged his laptop into the dock on the table, and he brought up a Keynote (the Apple equivalent of Powerpoint) presentation.

"Thank you, Commander, and let me say that it is an honor to work with you and the TCPD." said Dr. Hughes. Then he began: "About 400,000 years ago, a meteor struck the earth at the point where Lake Reservoir is now. The resulting crater was very deep, and it pushed the land outward to form the very high mountain ridges in a nearly circular oval around it."

Lake Reservoir was split by the county line between our Town & County and Nextdoor County to our east, the eastern three-fifths being in Nextdoor County. And I, Teresa, and Cindy lived on the mountain ridge formed by the meteor strike. Sheriff Griswold lived on a property bordering the lake, and he fished in that lake as often as possible.

Dr. Hughes: "There is an aquifer below the ground in the State north of us. That aquifer feeds Lake Amengi-Nunagen and Lake Watchacoochie to the north, it feeds the springs that create the River running through Town, and the State Line River to the west. One of the ripples of land outward of the ridgeline mountain is what kept the River and the State Line River from merging, and indeed diverging until merging at Southport, in the southwest corner of the State."

Along with more slides, Dr. Hughes said "The meteor strike caused earthquakes in the area, including a tectonic plate shift south of here. That created waterfalls along the River at what is now Midtown, and along the State Line River at Randolph Heights in the State to our west. The earthquakes also caused fissures in the earth that released the aquifer's water which filled Lake Reservoir."

Dr. Hughes: "Meteors often break up as they hurtle through the atmosphere, and the Lake Reservoir meteor was one of several that struck in what is now the tri-State area. One of the smaller meteorites struck very close by, and formed Mystery Lake. The ensuing earthquake created a fissure, filling it. It's called Mystery Lake because it was long considered a mystery how the lake is full of water with no obvious means of water coming into it. We now know that there are springs at the very bottom of the lake that fill it."

"So why isn't there a mountain ridge south of Lake Reservoir?" Molly asked.

Dr, Hughes replied: "That's a good question. The meteor came in on a slightly south-to-north projection when it struck the earth. You know how if you slap your hand at an angle in a pool of water, the water splashes away from the direction of your hand? The earth did the same here; it pushed forward, which was northward, leaving a much lesser ripple behind its direction of travel."

After several more questions about the geography of the northern part of our State, Dr. Hughes wrapped up, and everyone applauded him. He was given a thorough tour of Police Headquarters by Lieutenant Myron Milton, the TCPD CIO and Mary Milton's husband. After being shown the blinkenlights of Intel, the various Interrogation Rooms, and even the booking areas, he remarked that the favorite part of his tour was seeing Commander Troy's office.

After he left the room, I plugged my laptop in and brought up a map of the Mystery Lake area as I said "Okay, let me add a few more things about this area. Decades ago, a quarry on the northeast corner was started, to get limestone and quartz deposits. But the quality of the minerals was poor, and then they blasted at the wrong spot and water cascaded into the quarry, filling it. Three men died in that accident. There are still cut cliffs on the northeast corner that people dive and jump into the water from."

Me: "With the quarry failure, the relatively poor soil and terrain for farming, and the rugged nature of the area, Mystery Lake State Park was created. It was meant to be a place for vehicle camping on the open spaces of the south side of the lake, and tent camping on the more wooded north side."

Me: "But withhold my surprise that the State Government badly screwed things up. The official entrance is over on the east side, serving the road that comes in from State Highway 141 to the east. The path coming from the University-City Highway is in poor condition, and has neither a station to collect camping fees nor a gate to shut off the road. Ditto that for roads from the State north of us."

Me: "So there is some camping up there, mostly during the summer months, but it's early in the season right now. I'll ask Chief Evans and Captain Price if they have any problems with teenagers going up there to hook up."

"Not really." said NCPD Captain Paul Price. "Most kids in Hillside have places around Hillside they go to, kind of like your Promontory Point here in this County. Mystery Lake is in the northeast corner of Nextdoor County, just one mile south of the State Line, and a mile and a half tops from the line with the county to our east. The area is remote, and the least inhabited area of our county, and the road can be tough on cars. Get stuck up there, and you could be in a world of hurt for a while."

Chief Evans said "I second what Captain Price said, and I'll add this: Doctor Hughes is right that Mystery Lake was so named because they didn't understand why it had non-stagnant fresh water in it. But the name was popularized when people started making claims of seeing ghosts on the lake, including several reports of an angel with wings walking across the water at night. And there were several Slender Man sightings in the woods... which stopped after you engaged the Slender Man in personal combat at Point Hollow, Don. He has not been sighted since." (Author's note: 'Return of the Slender Man')

I said "Good. I hope the Slender Man never shows up anywhere near me again. Okay, any questions about the Mystery Lake area?"

"Commander," said Captain Paul Price, "these bodies are in a line west of the areas where George Aurus buried many of his victims. Could these be more of his victims?"

"It's always possible." I said. "But to my knowledge, Aurus told us who all of his victims were and where he disposed of them, and he never mentioned the Mystery Lake area."

There were no more questions, so I said "Okay, tell me what we know about the four people that observed the burial of the body and subsequently reported it to the authorities, that being us."

"If I may, sir." said NCPD Officer Jason Folby. I nodded and he said "At this point I have to report that I know Carl and Chris Bacon pretty well; we're friends. Should I recuse myself from this investigation?"

I replied "As far as I'm concerned, no. And you may have valuable information for us because you know them. Having said that, I'm going to ask you to not discuss the case further with them, and not to interview them unless you are with a TCPD or NCPD Officer. Chief Evans, are you good with that?"

"Absolutely." Molly replied. "And I definitely want you to be observing this case, Jason. The opportunity to learn from the Iron Crowbar is a gift; don't waste it."

"Damn right it is." growled Sheriff Griswold. "That's why I'm here now, learning from the Iron Crowbar. Isn't that right, Agent Muscone?" Wow, zinger! I thought to myself.

"There can be no doubt." Jack Muscone said adroitly. "Just don't get in an airplane with him, and let him kick you out of it while it's in flight." A lot of people laughed at that, remembering the 'Power of Love' case, and the method of Muscone's arrival at his own wedding.

"Thank you, sir." said Folby, not quite understanding the inside jokes yet.

I said "Lieutenant Milton, whaddya got?"

Mary Milton said "Thank you, sir." She brought up DMV photos of the two young men and two older women. "Okay, they guy at left is Carl Bacon, 20 years old. He's a student at the University, majoring in General Business, and he is on the Swim & Dive Team with an athletic scholarship. The other guy is Chris Bacon, Carl's younger brother. He's 18, and has not declared a major yet. He has a baseball scholarship at the University."

Mary: "The woman on the left, and beneath Carl, pun not intended, is Sherry Estrich. She is 58 years old, and married to Martin K. Estrich, who is the chief Patent Attorney for BigPharmaCorp. The woman to her right is Charlene Theranikos, age 52. She is the wife of Konstantin Theranikos, the shipping magnate."

Mary: "Mr. Theranikos has seven major hubs in the world: seaport hubs in Rio de Janeiro, Miami, Athens, and Anchorage; and airport hubs in Atlanta, Paris, and St. Petersburg, Russia. He is almost constantly traveling around the world, and spends little time here, which is a good and cozy arrangement for his wife."

"Explain what you mean by that." I said.

Mary said "And I'll make a short story long, sir, to give full context to the story. Sherry and Charlene live in the Heritage Cloisters gated community. They are founding members of the Northern State Tennis League, with clubs in Lexington, Pottsville, Westphalia, Palmyra County, the two most affluent subdivision in the suburbs west of the City, and two clubs here in our County."

Mary: "The clubs compete for the State title in the summer, with both team and individual titles on the line. Over the course of the rest of the year, clubs might get together for a match against each other, but there's no schedule, no formal season. For the most part, the various clubs's members compete within themselves, especially during the Spring and Fall seasons."

Mary: "There are divisions within the leagues, based mostly on age and gender. The men especially the older men, have insisted on their own group because some of the women are capable of beating them, but I digress. The groups are ages 60-plus, 50s, 40s, and younger than that is the 'open' group."

Mary: "One does not have to be a resident of the subdivision or gated community to be a member, but there's an additional surcharge to the membership fees. It's not totally necessary, but expected for the State League that one lives in the community or county of their home team. There are two restrictions, as well: first, one cannot be or have been a professional tennis player nor have been a varsity college player; and second, no money is to be paid nor received for playing on a team, which means no monetary prizes nor being paid to be on a team. It's supposed to be all-amateur and competitive-but-fun."