Seriously Inconvenienced Ch. 01

She also had started out as an EMT, which is part of the Fire Department, but unhappily so. She was the only person actively in the EMS Department that had earned an EMS Medal - the equivalent of the Police Medal or Fire Medal - for her bravery in evacuating children through a dangerous fire some years before. Since her time, the Fire Department had made malicious delight in denying EMTs well-deserved awards, among the many problems between the two services. That Zoe Singer was able to rise in the Fire Department ranks with such a history bespoke volumes of her abilities.

"I've heard a lot about you, too." Zoe said. "I know your wife, Dr. Fredricson, by the way."

"Ah, cool." I said. "I'll tell her you said hello. So... what can you tell me about this fire?"

"Deliberately set." Zoe replied. As she talked, I felt an undercurrent of attraction to Zoe. She was not especially pretty, and was in her upper 30s, maybe early 40s. But I just felt an attraction to her, an energy of sorts that connected us in some way. I wondered if she felt it as my blue eyes locked with her brown ones.

"This is a trip box. It was used to set the fire." said the Fire Marshal, showing me the device she'd recovered. A 'trip box' was a device used to cause electrical wiring to overload and to get hot, thus sparking a fire, usually within the walls of the building. Done properly, a trip box would leave little evidence. Obviously, that was not the case here.

"The interesting thing is how well-preserved this is." Zoe said. "They don't make the trip boxes this obvious at the Fire Academy. I was just saying to my assistant that the trip box was not only blatantly obvious, it was made of non-perishable materials. Normally, the trip boxes burn up and only leave wiring, and we have to search hard for their remains. Not this one, though. And it seems to be complex for a trip box."

"Interesting." I said, thinking, halfway into a reverie as I considered the implications of this crime and the evidence of it left behind.

"Okay, Sergeant, bag this as evidence..." Zoe said, giving the Arson Investigator, a Fire Department Sergeant, the remains of the trip box.

"Arson, eh?" I said as I came out of my reverie and looked around, feeling Zoe's eyes looking me up and down as I had done her previously.

"Yes, arson. Pretty cut and dried." Zoe said, then showed her powers of observation: "Seems to have caught your interest, too. Your gray eyes have a light to them and they get sort of blue when you're thinking hard, like you obviously are now."

"Yes..." I said, my voice still far away. "It... well, it ties in with something that I've been thinking about." I said.

"What's that?" Zoe asked. I realized I'd said more than I should, but for some reason didn't worry about it.

"I think this fire was set on purpose to occupy the Police while criminals robbed the Second National Bank at the same time. It's at the perfect location to cause the worst traffic snarls, and it was at the worst driving time of day. Your finding of arson will give me probable cause to get a warrant to collect tape evidence from street cameras and such that overlooked the fire.""

"Oh yes, I heard about that robbery on the news." Zoe said. "Have you found that poor girl that was kidnapped yet?"

"Not yet." I said, seeing Zoe grimace, a reaction I'd seen from many other women about the news of the kidnapped young woman. "We're working on some leads, though."

"Well, you'll need some strong leads to help Santo Veccio." Zoe said. "My people were looking into him last night, and we'll pass on our findings to you, of course. Seems Santo's restaurant was heavily in debt, and he was close to having to close down."

"Does he own the building?" I asked.

"No." Zoe said. "A group named Northwest Properties Management, Inc. owns it. Mr. Cook of the Town & County Council is one of the owners. They also owned that property the Police Department bought for the 1st Precinct. Nice little windfall for Mr. Cook."

"Yes, I know." I said, the derision in my voice matching Zoe's. "So do you think Santo Veccio did this?"

"No, I'm not going so far as to say that, at least not yet." said Zoe. "But I do know that Veccio's insurance for the restaurant won't pay out for as long as possible, if ever, since it's obviously arson. They may even accuse him of setting the fire, just to spite him. I'm seeing a lot of that the past couple of years in this bad economy. At any rate, this'll wipe him out. Too bad; his restaurant had pretty good food."

"I never got to try it." I said. Just then someone called out "Commander!"

"Yes?" both Zoe and I said at the same time. We then looked at each other. I smiled and Zoe gave a brief, shy smile. We were both ranked as Commanders within our respective departments.

One of Zoe's arson agents had called out, and she came up and reported something to Zoe. We went over to where the woman wanted us.

"Ma'am," said the younger woman, "it looks like some kind of accelerant was poured here. We're finding several spots like this."

"Tell Commander Troy what that means." Zoe said.

"Oh my God, the Iron Crowbar?!" the younger woman gushed at hearing my name. "I can't believe I'm meeting you!"

"Yep, plain ol' me." I said, exchanging a handshake and introduction with the girl. Zoe's face had changed to shock, and then admiration... she had not fully connected me with the 'Iron Crowbar' reputation when we were first introduced, I noted. "So, tell me what is going on here." I said.

"Sir," the girl said, acting as if she were in front of a rock star or royalty, "it looks like someone came through and poured flammable substances all around the place. Liquids or powder, maybe both. Once the original fire started, it spread very quickly, and the whole building was engulfed far more quickly than an accidental fire would've caused. You can see this ring of ash, here..." she pointed at an area, "... and you can see where the flammable substances burned themselves and the floors they contacted more quickly and hotly."

"That makes sense. And you guys are good." I said, taking out my cellphone. "I'm going to call my Crime Lab- oh, they're already here." Out of the corner of my eye, I had just caught two vans of police Crime Lab people pulling up.

"I've had them called in already." Zoe said. "I don't want to waste time on this one before it rains."

"Thank you, I'm grateful for that." I said. "And you've got a great team here. I'll be sure to have my Chief tell that to your Chief. Well, I have to get back to finding the bank robbers and their hostage. If you'll be kind enough to give that trip box to my people, I'm going to have an electronics expert look at it."

"Certainly." said Zoe.

"And maybe you and I can get together for lunch soon?" I said as I handed Zoe my card. The other woman looked envious.

"Sure." Zoe said. She handed me her card as well.

Part 3 - Brutality

The young woman screamed into her makeshift gag. Her hands were manacled to the steel bed frame above her head as she lay on the flimsy mattress. On top of her naked body lay a muscular thug, pumping his six inch cock in and out of her violated vagina with long, deep thrusts. Luisa had had a blindfold taped over her eyes, and her panties stuffed into her mouth and taped inside to soften her screams as she was repeatedly defiled.

"Shut that bitch up, willya?" complained the much older man, sitting at the table in the room. They were in a guesthouse behind an empty farmhouse about five miles from the State line, having crossed out of the Iron Crowbar's County, and State, the day before.

"Pipe down, Santa Claus." said one of the other men. "You didn't seem to mind taking a couple of turns at her last night."

There were three of them in black clothing, the three that had committed the bank robbery. In addition, the older man, Keeler, was sitting at the table drinking whiskey. The four of them had taken turns raping the young Hispanic woman all through the previous evening and night.

They watched as the rapist slid his cock out of the woman's vagina, applied some lubricant, then guided his meat back into her. The other two men in the room, making six total, had not defiled Luisa... one sported a thin beard, while the other had a shock of white hair and looked older than he was. Skinny Beard and Gruff were homosexuals, and had watched the forced copulations more to enjoy the sight of the men that were violently fucking the young woman.

"Damn, this is some sweet pussy!" said the man raping Luisa, pumping the full length of his cock in and out of her, the lube helping him to get some slick traction through all the loads of semen that had been ejaculated into the abused woman. Everyone watched her swollen cuntlips clinging to his meat as he shoved it into her then withdrew it with rapid strokes, his balls striking her taint with loud smacks.

"We weren't supposed to fucking kidnap anyone." Keeler growled over the staccato slaps of flesh on flesh. "We were supposed to rob the fucking bank. We should've dumped the bitch once we left Town. Why the fuck did you grab her, Sheets?" Keeler used the nickname of one of the three thugs, the man currently raping Luisa, who had been a prominent member of the Ku Klux Klan in Tennessee and Mississippi in previous years.

"She looked hot." said the guy, continuing to enjoy the fucking. "And I was right: this is some of the best fucking cunt I've ever had."

"You should've asked her for a fucking date, then, instead of grabbing her and endangering the mission." Keeler said.

"Shut the fuck up, old man." said one of the other black-clad criminals. He was younger than the man raping Luisa, and had a very take-charge attitude about him. He also had the largest cock and by far the biggest balls. "It'll work into The Man's plans. He wanted the Iron Crowbar's police to be distracted, so we'll go dump the bitch and let them wonder who the fuck did it."

"Besides," said the third black-clad man, "this is just practice for what we're going to do to that Allgood bitch that killed our three team members, our brothers in arms, with cop-killer bullets. Just killing her is not enough; we're going to rape her in front of her husband the Sheriff until she is dead."

"As long as I get to kill the woman's ex-husband and his bitch wife." said one of the other men in the room. "He led the raid that killed the Black Widow, and she and that old Jew doctor saved that fucking cop's life after I'd injected the poison into him." He was the young man nicknamed 'Skinny Beard', and he was avidly watching as the perp raped Luisa, enjoying the sights as well as the sounds of her pain and struggle, also enjoying the sight of the cock slicing in and out of her helpless cunt. "By the way, take the black van. They'll be looking for the white one."

"No shit, Sherlock." grunted Keeler.

"Keeler," said the younger man, the leader, "I'm getting tired of your shit attitude. Zip your shit shut."

Keeler grumbled acquiescence. It was a dangerous situation. These three men had been trained in various military schools, including Army Ranger School, Special Forces, and Marine Sniper school. Not to mention the extensive CIA training they'd undergone. They were among the world's best mercenaries now, but were being relentlessly hunted by the FBI and CIA after the destruction of Deputy Director Jody Corrigan's cell, may he rest in peace, and may the Iron Crowbar and his wife be damned for his death.

Keeler himself had been a Marine Sniper. He still did not understand how or why the Iron Crowbar still lived and walked this earth after the shot he'd fired at the bastard redhead. It had missed by the merest of margins (in fact, it had grazed the then-Supervisor of Detectives), and then someone else had obliterated Jonas Oldeeds a split-instant afterwards. Damn the luck.

His thoughts were interrupted by the groans of the rapist as he came inside Luisa's ravaged cunt. "My God, Sheets," said the third black-clad man, "did you take a fucking viagra?"

"Sure did." replied the man fucking the helpless, pretty young woman. "I'm loving fucking this skank. God damn! that was good! Anyone else want some more?"

"No, that's enough." said the younger black-clad man, taking charge. "We have to get on with our work. Let's get ready to take her back. The black van will continue on into Nextdoor County, and be abandoned at Rendezvous Point 'November'. Make sure it's wiped down and wear gloves while inside; don't leave a god-damned clue for the Police to find. We'll circle back here through Coltrane County, after getting lunch at that restaurant in Buford that's so good. Sheets, you and Keeler stay here. Gruff, you're driving..."

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

"Damn, is this what you call music?" the passenger riding shotgun asked the driver. They were college students, and were riding east along MLK Jr. Boulevard, following a black van as they drove past the Cannon Building, also known as The Old Mill.

"It's better than the shit you listen to!" said the passenger in the back seat.

"That's bullshit- hey, watch out!" the front seat passenger said. The driver hit the brakes as the black van in front of them slowed down. The back doors swung open and two masked men threw out what looked like a roll of carpet. It hit the pavement with a thud.

The honking of horns of cars behind the students started. They had almost hit the car as it screeched to a stop within inches of hitting the bundle. The two passengers got out and ran up, and were shocked by what they saw: a woman was wrapped up in the carpet.

"Call the cops!" one of the students yelled as people rushed up...

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

"She's unconscious." Teresa Croyle said in the my office as I met with my Lieutenants Three at 3:00pm on that same afternoon of November 13th. "The doctors sedated her. She has a concussion and a broken hip from where she was thrown out of the van. Fortunately, the carpet saved her from far worse injuries, and lucky the car following the van didn't hit her."

"That's the good news." Teresa continued, the the coldness of her face attempting to mask the anger beneath. "The bad news is that she was gang raped, probably for hours and by multiple men. She was bleeding internally from her vagina. She woke up briefly, then began screaming and that's when they sedated her. We've got Detective Gayle Tunnin from Internal Affairs ready to talk to her when she comes out; Tunnin is very experienced with rape victims. My question is 'who do we send to support and learn from Tunnin?'. We need help in that area."

"Funny, I was talking to my wife about that just a week ago, after the officer psychological evaluations." I said. "Claire Michaels has had some training in handling rape victims while she was in L.A., so she can help us in a pinch if she's not doing SWAT duties. Tanya, you can handle it mentally and you're going to have to get up to speed on the techniques, but we'll also have Torres and Joanne Cummings get training on this. Do you all agree that women are best for this?"

"Generally, yes." said Cindy Ross. "But what about Martin Nash?"

"This stays in this room," I said, "but Martin Nash got no sleep last night worrying about this girl. He sometimes gets too emotionally into cases like these. He wants to go do something about it, even when there's nothing we can do. It's a lesson the Chief has had to drill into me time and again, so I'm sympathetic. Martin is a good Detective, he can handle dead bodies at murder scenes. But I dunno if he can handle raped women very well."

"I agree." said Cindy. "He volunteered to stay all night last night. I tried to nix it, but he didn't go home even when Parker came in to relieve him."

"Exactly." I said. "Also, watch Joanne Cummings carefully; she's a bit young and might not be battle-hardened yet." That was the best way I could think of for saying Joanne Cummings was still young, inexperienced, and perhaps a bit naive.

"She's learning quickly." said Cindy. "Those cases of the swingers opened her eyes to the real world, and the election stuff her cousin went through had the side effect of making her jaded. Just what I like in my Detectives: cynicism and distrust of what things appear to be." I knew Cindy wasn't really kidding about that.

"So," I said, moving the meeting along, "I understand it was a black van that dumped Luisa Gomez onto the street, not a white one like the one that was the getaway van after the bank robbery,?"

"Yes sir." said Lt. Perlman. "We got a partial plate number, and we put out an APB for it. About an hour later the Nextdoor County Police called and said they'd found a black van abandoned just north of Hillside. I sent a Crime Lab team over to help them, but the van was wiped clean: no prints, no smudges, no spittle, nothing but Clorox. I might add that the tires were wiped down, too.

"Oh, now that's curious." I said. "You understand what that means, don't you?" Tanya nodded, but I was chagrined to get two uncomprehending stares at me. So I asked Tanya to explain.

"Overabundance of caution, I'd say." offered Tanya Perlman. "They knew they were driving through an area with soil specific to that area, and they don't want the location of their hideout known."

"Yes, true." I said. "But it's more than that: different farms around here grow different things, and they use different chemicals. So they didn't want us to find any dirt tracked by the tires that would have those specific chemicals. Ergo, that suggests they've done some driving on dirt roads, suggesting farms, and they are indeed being overcautious in us not finding which farm they might be on."

"Geez, that'd take some time for us to figure out, even with you in the Command Chair there." Cindy said. How had she figured out my secret name for my comfortable chair? I wondered silently.

"Au contraire, mon ami." I said, knowing my French was the wrong gender but not caring. "Myron can get records of what these farmers buy and use within minutes, and our Crime Lab is damn good about finding what chemicals would be in the dirt."

"Cool." Cindy said.

"And that suggests..." I said. This time I wasn't waiting for an answer... I had slipped into a reverie. When I recovered, I felt three pairs of eyes boring into me.

"It suggests?" Cindy said.

"That whoever these perps are, they really thought about things to the last detail." I said. "Either they are just that smart, or..."

"Or?" Cindy asked as I continued halfway in the reverie.

"Or they are well aware of how good we are." I said. "And that suggests familiarity with this County and its Police Force. I wonder if we have another mole...

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

"I looked at it, and I also had one of my experts look at it, while keeping it under chain of custody." said Barry Oliver, the Arrowpoint Solutions executive and Police Auxiliary member, with whom I consulted about the trip box. "It is definitely not just an ordinary trip box, but has a radio device so that it could be activated by remote control."

"So that they could activate it in at the time of their choosing." I said.

"Yes sir." said Barry. "And that device is high-grade sophistication. I'm just surprised they made it all of metal; if they'd made it out of plastic, most of it would've been destroyed."

"So what's your deduction from that?" I asked Barry, testing him. He shrugged.

"Obviously, they wanted us to find the device. Why, I don't know yet." I replied. Barry nodded.

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

At 5:50pm I stopped by Cindy's office on the way out the door. "Okay, Crowbar 2, I'm heading out. The Chief has gone home, and anyone not hot on something should go home, too, including yourself. Any updates for me?"