Secrets 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 8 - Federal Agents

As I stood frozen with a gun pointed at my head, I saw out of the corner of my eye to my right that the gunman was FBI Special Agent Martin Nash.

"Well, well, well." said FBI Special Agent In Charge Jack Muscone as he came up from the black car behind mine in the driveway. "Look who we have here. A collaborator with a known Mobster."

"Bullshit." I said. "And the Courts issued restraining orders against both of you. You're not supposed to be anywhere near me."

"Restraining order." said Muscone with a brief 'laugh'. "Did you hear that, Nash? The pussy is whining about a restraining order."

"Put your hands behind you." said Nash. I made no move to cooperate.

"Am I under arrest?" I said. "If so, where's your arrest warrant?"

"You don't get it, do you faggot?" Muscone snarled, coming closer to me. "But if you want to play it that way: yeah, you're under arrest, and the probable cause is having lunch with a Mobster. And a warrant, like George W. Bush called the Constitution, is just a goddamned piece of paper."

"One more time." said Nash. "Put your hands behind you." I again didn't move. Nash grabbed my wrist.

"I am not resisting!" I yelled out, sure that the Federal Agents were taping this, and also hoping someone would hear me and witness the kidnapping taking place. "Someone call the Police!" Nash cuffed my hands behind me, and 'escorted' me to the black vehicle. Just before putting me in it, Muscone reached up and put a black hood over my head, and I was roughly shoved into the vehicle...

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

I felt myself being forced to sit down in a chair, my hands still cuffed behind me. The mask was ripped off my head, painfully so. As I looked around and got my bearings, I could see that I was in a small room, the walls painted dark gray, and no windows. It felt like I was underground.

There was a desk in front of me, and behind it was a distinguished looking man, tall, fairly slender, with thin graying hair. He had an aura of power and authority about him, and I sensed that he was trying to mentally reach inside my mind.

"Mr. Donald Troy." he said, as if I were an affront to his presence. I did not reply, but just stared at him from under my eyelids. "My name is William Hargreaves. I'm the Deputy Director of the FBI." I continued to say nothing. I could see that Muscone was to my left and behind, and I felt more than saw Nash behind me to my right side. "Nothing to say?" the DepDirector said.

"I want a lawyer." I said.

The DepDirector gave a pursed smile, then stood up out of his chair and slowly walked around the desk. "You know, Mr. Troy," he said, "I'm a very patient man. I have to be to get where I am in the Federal Government. And where I am is a very, very powerful position. By way of contrast, you are sitting handcuffed in a chair with no one knowing where you are, much less giving a damn, yet you keep up with your habit of irritating people. And you are irritating me right now----"

"I... want... a... lawyer." I said, speaking slowly and clearly, as if to a child.

"Mr. Troy," said the DepDirector, keeping his voice unnervingly calm and level, "if you'd just shut your fucking mouth for two minutes, you might learn something that could be really helpful to you." I blinked as he said those words, the exact same words Jack Burke had said to me the day before... at least I thought it was the day before.

"I want a lawyer." I intoned again.

"Good luck getting one." said the DepDirector, going back around his desk and sitting down. "Now you listen, and you listen good, boy. We know that you had lunch with one of the most powerful Mobsters in this part of the country. And we know why. You've been asked to find McGinty's Materials. I'm going to ask you to find them, also, but to bring them to us instead of the corrupt TCPD, that Establishment Swamp Frog politician Jack Burke, or the mobster 'Coffin' Cerone." He paused, as if waiting for me to answer.

"I want a lawyer." was all I said. I could see the exasperation growing in the man's eyes. I was getting to him.

"That $100,000 check you recently got." the DepDirector said. "It was a demonstration of what we can do to help you. If you turn the Materials over to us, we'll pay you the full amount of what the Government owes you in one lump sum. That's millions of dollars in your pocket. And we'll add two more million out of the reward fund we've set up." He looked at me. I stared back at him, saying nothing.

"Of course, if you don't bring the Materials to us," said the DepDirector, "then your dead body will be found floating down the River. And it may or may not be us that terminates your worthless existence. And yes, Mr. Troy, your existence is truly worthless. You won't be missed. You have no family, no friends, no real job. You are nothing. You don't matter."

"You've already violated the restraining order." I said. "Kidnapped me, forced me to come here against my will. There's no reason you won't just kill me if I do find the Materials. So you'll just have to excuse me if I don't take your worthless word at any value at all."

"Maybe I won't excuse you." said the DepDirector. "But you've shown in the past that threatening you with death doesn't work very well. Of course that's because you are nothing, you don't matter, so what are clouds, but an excuse for the sky?"

I just said nothing. After a long moment of silence, the DepDirector said "Okay, get this faggot out of here. Take him back home. Mr. Troy, you have our offer on the table. I'm confident you'll make the right decision when the time comes."

With that, the hood was violently jammed onto my head again. I felt arms pick me up and practically half-walk, half-carry me out of the room...

Part 9 - Detective Darwinism

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the redheaded reporterette at 7:00am, Thursday morning. "Channel Two News has learned that Hamilton County Detective Tony Long has died of his wounds."

As Bettina gave her newscast, I was dressing. I'd been returned to my apartment at nearly midnight, after being driven around for a considerable amount of time, unable to tell just where I was. I was thrown out of the car, landing on my shoulder and side, then Muscone got out and kicked me hard in the ribs. Nash took off my cuffs, then kicked me hard in the back, aiming for the spot where it had been broken, but just missing.

When I got back inside, I found my cellphone where I'd left it. I called and left a message with my attorney Gor-don, explaining the violation of the Restraining Order. Then I went to bed.

Something about the death of Detective Tony Long was bothering me, and not just that he was an associate of Detective McGinty, I thought as I drove to TCPD Headquarters. Earlier reports were that he was recovering from his wounds, so how did he suddenly take a turn for the worse and end up dying?

I pulled up to the employees's parking lot gate. The Officer in the guard shack said "Sorry, sir, you'll have to park in the visitor's lot and come in the front." They'd been letting me park in the employees lot and come in the side entrance, so this was a bit of a disappointment.

As I came into the front lobby, the Duty Desk Sergeant said "Sir, if you'll sign in, I'll let Captain Harlan know you're here." I said okay, and a moment later Angela Harlan came up as I attached my visitor badge to my jacket pocket.

"Come on back to my office, Don." Angela Harlan said, her voice solemn, not cheerful at all, and she led me down the hallway. If I'd sensed tension the first day I'd been here, I was really feeling it now; there was an oppressive silence, and almost a military decorum as Officers moved down the hallway, studiously not looking at me, as if I didn't exist.

"Good morning, Patrolman Feeley." I said to Pete Feeley as I came by his desk.

"Good morning, sir." Feeley said solemnly, his voice stiff and formal, his eyes not looking up at me.

"What is going on?" I asked as Captain Harlan closed the door behind us and pointed at a chair for me to sit in. As I sat down, she came around behind her desk and picked up a folder.

"That is what's going on." Angela said harshly, extending the folder to me. I took it and opened it. On top was a photo of me sitting with Jimmy 'Coffin' Cerone, having lunch.

"Care to explain why you're having lunch with the most powerful Mob leader in this part of the country?" Angela said, crossing her arms in front of her and staring daggers at me.

"If you're willing to hear it... yes." I said, looking up at her and making sure to keep eye contact. She finally sat down.

"Let's hear it." she said.

"To make a short story long," I said, "I went to my boyhood hometown to complete the sale of my parents's property. I went straight to Midtown from there to deposit the check with my brokerage, then went to my house to pick up clothes and bring them here. I was pretty much kidnapped out of my driveway and brought to the Luigi's Restaurant, where Cerone was waiting for me. And yes, the lasagna was damn good, so I ate some. I was hungry."

Angela did not bat an eyelash nor change her expression at the joke, so I said "The point is, that was a lunch offer I couldn't refuse. I was brought there at gunpoint, all of the courtesy and pretending to be a friendly lunch notwithstanding." I set the folder back on her desk, and she picked it up and set it down in front of her.

"Well," she said, her voice only marginally softer, "it's a problem. The Chief blew a gasket when he saw this. He's the one that cut off your access to Headquarters and told Julie and the Detectives to not help you any longer with information."

I peered at Captain Harlan. "Interesting." I said, mostly to myself.

"What's that?" Angela asked.

"You didn't even ask what Cerone and I talked about at that lunch." I said.

"I don't need to." said Angela. "It was about McGinty's Materials---" She stopped, realizing she'd slipped. Fortunately, she looked more chastened than angry.

"Did y'all have his table bugged, too?" I asked.

"No." said Angela. "We got this from somewhere else. Someone else."

"Jack Burke?" I asked.

"No, actually." Angela said. "Internal Police sources, and that's all I'm saying.

"Of course." I said. After a pause of uncomfortable silence, I said: "Before I go, there's one thing you need to know. After Croyle left me in that field the other day, it was Jack Burke who picked me up at the side of the road. He was waiting for me. He wants me to find McGinty's Materials, too, and he threatened me even worse than Cerone did. At least Cerone did me the courtesy of giving me some lunch."

I continued: "Jack Burke is running for Governor, and I think he's scared of something in those Materials that might derail his plans. He's behind whoever sent you that Cerone photo, to get you to do exactly what he wants... stop your cooperation with me. Yeah, Burke wants me to find those Materials and give them to him... and then he would kill me, if I were to be stupid enough to let him. But my point is that Jack Burke may be your problem, the TCPD's problem. If Chief Malone wants those papers found, he has to be aware of who his real enemy is... Jack Burke."

"Yeah." said Harlan. "And he knows that. And I know that. And I know that you and Jack Burke have a history, an unpleasant one." She paused, then said "I'll tell the Chief what you said. I don't know if it'll help. But if you find those Materials, Chief Malone can help you stay alive better than anyone else can, including the Feds."

"Especially the Feds." I replied, then got up and said "If you'll excuse me, I need to go." Angela nodded. She did not escort me down the hall as I went to the lobby, turned in my visitor badge, and left Police Headquarters.

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

I received a call from the lawyer Gor-don, who asked me to come to the Chase, Lynch & Berry office in Town. I went over there.

"The FBI violated the restraining order." I said as I came into the conference room where he was. "We need to----"

"I know, Mr. Troy." said Gor-don. "Have a seat."

I sat down, and Gor-don passed a document across the table. As I picked it up and looked at it, he said "That is your written notification that neither I nor anyone else at Chase, Lynch & Berry will be acting as your attorneys any longer. When you get a new attorney, we will as a courtesy provide them with copies of our paperwork pertaining to your cases."

"Okay." I said. "But why? I thought you hated the FBI as much or even more than I do."

"That's true. We do." said Gor-don. "But even if I did go to the Court about the violation of the restraining order, the FBI will deny it, and you have no proof. They've already rigged the game with the Court, so there's no point in trying. They are the Government."

"That absolutely does not sound like you." I said. "You enjoy taking on the Government."

"As to us dropping you as a client," Gor-don continued, ignoring what I had just said, "we've been asked to drop you by a much more important client. And he wishes to speak to you."

The door opened, and in walked Jack Burke. Gor-don got up and left the room as Burke sat down in the just-vacated chair. He was dressed in a black suit with gray pinstripes that had to cost at least $4000. Every black hair was perfectly in place, and his teeth were almost glowing in the dark with whiteness as he exhibited the smile he normally used at political rallies... and to seduce women.

"They popped my shoulder back in place, thanks for asking." Burke said sardonically. "I suppose you're wondering how the Police got that photo of you and that disgusting mobster Cerone."

"No." I said. "I've figured it out." I knew that Teresa Croyle had to have left me at the Fucking Field so Jack could confront me there, so it stood to reason that she was the one that delivered the photo of me with Cerone, supplied by Burke's people, to Chief Malone. I just wondered if Malone knew that Teresa was betraying him on behalf of Burke.

I added: "Past lover, probably from that time you disappeared so that you wouldn't be imprisoned for committing rape." As I spoke, my head started hurting again, and I heard a ringing sound in my ears.

Jack Burke's smile disappeared. "One day... I swear to God, one day I'm going to make you pay for those lies. But I don't have time for that now---"

"Too bad." I said. "I'd love to separate your other shoulder, even 'em out." The ringing in my ears stopped.

"All right, you little shit." Burke said. "Here's the new word: keep looking for McGinty's Materials. If you really have figured it out, then you know you can take them to the TCPD and they'll just end up in my hands, anyway, and you'll have a death sentence over your head. If you give them to Cerone, you and he will die together... and in great pain, I might add."

"Wow." I said. "Cerone is a no-shit mobster, and has more protection than the President... and you think you can just wax him at your whim?"

"You have no idea how powerful I am, you worthless little shit." snarled Burke. "And I'm going to be the Governor of this State in a few months. Once that happens, there will be no place for Jimmy 'Coffin' Cerone in this State, except in one of his own coffins. I won't make the same comment about you... you're going to be buried in the cemetery here long before then. And it won't matter... because you don't matter."

This was starting to sound like a broken record, I thought to myself. I stood up. "Unfortunately, in the displeasure of this meaningless conversation," I said, "I'm neglecting important things elsewhere. And don't count on becoming Governor... if I find McGinty's Materials, and the dirt they have on you." With that, I turned and exited the room, leaving Jack Burke behind with the ugliest look on his face that I'd ever seen on any human countenance... except Teresa Croyle's when she had abandoned me in that field...

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

It's starting to unravel... again.

That is what I thought to myself as I sipped my coffee at the 'San Francisco Coffee' coffee bar on the southside of Courthouse Square. Everything had been looking up, going good, then Jack Burke comes in to fuck things up for me.

Well, not just him. Teresa Croyle's utter hatred for me was behind a lot of it. And what scared me the most was the murder of Detective Tony Long. Was Detective Croyle's hatred so strong that she would murder a fellow Police Officer to keep the Materials from being found? Or was that Burke himself that was behind that? I had no doubts that Jack Burke would commit murder to ensure the success of his political ambitions. Heck, at this rate he could become U.S. Secretary of State one day... maybe even run for President! But I was digressing...

"Hello, Don!" I heard a female voice say. I looked up to see Tanya Perlman walk into the shop. She came up to me and said "May I join you?"

"Sure, let's get a table." I said. We moved from the bar to a table near the back of the room, and I paid for Tanya's coffee.

"What's new?" I asked as we settled into our chairs. "I know you're not with the TCPD anymore."

"That's true." said Tanya. "Governor Jared hired me to run the State Crime Lab in this County, and it's been really great. He was going to put me in charge of all the Crime Labs in the State, but he was assassinated... er, tragically killed in that gas explosion. So that dream died with him, and now I'm worried that if Jack Burke is elected Governor, I'll be completely out of a job. Burke is as dirty as they come; he wants a loyal Crime Lab, not a competent one."

"So you think Governor Jared was murdered?" I asked, my voice casual as I sipped my coffee.

"I know it for a fact." said Tanya. "But I can't prove it, and I don't have anyone to prove it against, either. Well... I'm sure Jack Burke was behind it. Sad thing is, Governor Jared was term-limited, so it wasn't even necessary."

"Unless Governor Jared wasn't the true target, or at least not the only target." I said.

"Oh?" Tanya said, her eyes sparkling. "Who was the target?"

"Detective Shane O'Brady." I said. "He'd collaborated with Detective McGinty in the past. So had Tony Long, who was ambushed and shot up. I thought he was recovering, but he died last night."

"Yeah, I heard about that." said Tanya. "You know, Don, you're making just too much sense about all this. It's going to get you killed one day."

"Especially if Jack Burke is elected." I said. "Unless I find McGinty's Materials first, and expose whatever he had on Burke." Tanya nodded, and I changed the subject, saying: So... why did you leave the TCPD? I thought you loved it there."

"It was okay, but I never loved it." Tanya said. "Crime labs and CSI work were what I always loved. While Chief Griswold and Detective Ross were alive, the TCPD was good. But they died. And after they hired Sharples over you two years ago, things started going downhill fast. But even with him, I could've just stayed in my niche, maybe tried to become their CSI Officer... but I just could not stay with that bitch 'Teresa Cunt' any longer."