The Credit Card Caper Ch. 01

The chronological order of my stories is as follows:

Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Trilogy Series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, Case of the Murdered Bride series.

The Credit Card Caper, Ch. 1.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, extreme 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 or racist 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 1 - Dead (Wo)Men Don't Use Credit Cards

Autumn was full on and the nights were getting wonderfully cool as October rolled along. It was during the lovely autumn day of October 16th that Spence Foster, owner of Foster's Indoor Gun Range, entered Police Headquarters to file a report. He explained his issue to the Duty Desk, who had him wait in the lobby waiting room. Within five minutes Vice Detective Earl "E.J." Jefferson and Patrolman Bobby Cosby escorted him to Interrogation-A for his story.

Detective Jefferson was a rather large black man with broad shoulders, who worked his body into peak physical condition. Patrolman Cosby was white with brown hair combed to the side, with broad shoulders. He wore heavy glasses and had buck teeth, giving him a 'country boy' appearance and the nickname of 'Country Boy Cosby'... and a few less flattering names behind his back, such as 'Buck Tooth Bobby'.

"So, Mr. Foster," said Detective Jefferson, "you're saying that someone came into your gun store and tried to buy a gun with a stolen credit card?"

"Well, let me clarify." said Foster. "The credit card was used at Cummings Outdoors General Store. The reason I'm here is because someone tried to use my wife's credit card. My wife died eight months ago in a car accident in Coltrane County, and I cancelled all of her credit cards. Lifelock notified me of the attempt to use her card an hour ago."

-----

"Yes, Detective," said John Cummings of Cummings Outdoors to Jefferson and Cosby, "there was a woman in here about an hour ago. Tried to buy a Beretta 92FS nine millimeter. Her credit card failed, and she asked me to put the gun and paperwork aside so she could go home and get another card or cash. She hasn't come back yet, though."

"Can we see that paperwork?" asked Jefferson. As he looked at it, he asked "What about her background check?"

"She had a concealed carry permit, so a check wasn't required." said Cummings, correctly citing State Law.

"Her name was... Alicia Foster." said Jefferson. "Mr. Cummings, we're here because that failed credit card generated an alert with this woman's husband. He says his wife died about eight months ago. Can we see your videotape of this woman?"

"Sure." said Cummings, shocked at the news.

------

"Commander, we have a strange one. Right up your alley." said Lt. Teresa Croyle as she entered my office, Detective Jefferson and Patrolman Cosby in tow. I had them sit down, and Detective Jefferson filled me in, while Patrolman Cosby took advantage of this rare opportunity and observed us closely.

Jefferson showed me the copies of the paperwork the woman had filled out, the copies of her drivers license and concealed carry permit, and a still photo taken from the gun store videotape. Upon closer examination, the face on the IDs was not the same as the woman in the video, who was wearing sunglasses, had plenty of makeup on, and was wearing a big-hair wig.

"Cummings was embarrassed about it." Jefferson said. "They were pretty busy in there, though, and he was trying to help several customers."

"He's also running for State Senate." I said. "So someone is using the late Alicia Foster's identity. Why is this a strange one, Lieutenant Croyle?"

Teresa said, "The credit card appears to have been the actual card issued to Alicia Foster, not a made-up fake card with her data encoded. The circumstances of the overall case make that strange."

"What did Mr. Foster have to say about that? About that card still existing?"

"He says he destroyed all of his wife's cards that were at home," said Detective Jefferson, "and he suggested that maybe this one was believed to have burned up in the car crash that killed his wife."

"Tell me about that incident." I said, fully expecting my Detectives to be fully prepared whenever they come into my office with something like this.

"I looked up the record of the accident." said Jefferson. "It was in southern Coltrane County, at the last bridge before leaving the County. The bridge goes over a county farm road. Alicia Foster's car drove off the main highway and down the embankment to the farm road. It caught fire and burned. The accident was at two o'clock in the morning, so the Coltrane County Fire Department didn't get a call for thirty minutes, and by the time they got there the car and the body inside were incinerated to ashes. Deputy Strait, who talked to me about it, said the fire got so hot it melted the farm road asphalt, and you can still see where they repaired the road."

"So the woman's purse should've burned up in the car fire." I said. "How did they identify Alicia?"

"The car tag and VIN numbers were recovered." said E.J. "The body was charred, but Alicia Foster had disappeared and it was her car with a woman's body matching her description inside the car. Coltrane County doesn't have the Crime Lab we do, and Mrs. Foster had no DNA on record in any databases."

"Dental records?" I asked.

Teresa replied "This accident happened in early February, right after Pete Feeley died and you guys were hunting down the Black Widow, but Sonali made a case record of being contacted about dental records for Alicia. She attempted to find something... but she could not find any dentist Alicia Foster ever visited. Mrs. Foster apparently had good teeth that she took care of herself, and she never developed a dental record. The body had two teeth with filled cavities, but with no record to compare, it was moot. In truth, nobody really went past the car's identification as Mrs. Foster's."

"So, just to test you, what are you guys going to do about this?" I asked.

Teresa said "We've already put out a State-wide alert to all gun stores to be on the watch for this woman or anyone named 'Alicia Foster'. We're also contacting the malls and such places where she might try to shoplift or rob, as well as a fraudulent credit card alert. But if she's skipped town, I'm not hopeful we'll find her, especially since she was disguised."

Teresa continued: "I'm also going to do some research with Julie Newton on the credit card, and then look into any friends of Mrs. Foster that might have had her credit card before she died, and by that I mean legitimately or illegitimately. Maybe she lost it and it was picked up by someone else, etc. Not hopeful for much, but at least the stones will be turned."

"That's very good, but add one thing to your research: look into Spence Foster, look into their relationship, their finances, his finances after her death, and all that. He might have held the credit card instead of destroying it, or it had been lost and he found it- yes, Lieutenant?" I said, seeing a skeptical look on Teresa's face... and by that I mean skeptical for her...

"Commander, Spence Foster owns a gun store and has an FFL." said Teresa. 'FFL' was the abbreviation for 'federal firearms license'. "He wouldn't need to have someone buy a gun with his wife's closed credit card and so on, if you know what I mean."

"Well, you did say this was a strange one." I replied with a smile, which Teresa acknowledged with a sideways nod of her head. "Okay guys, work this for a day or two and let me know what you find."

Part 2 - Vanishing Act

"Commander, what is our protocol for missing persons?" asked Detective (J.G.) Lorena Rose. With her was Detective Claire Michaels, and they'd stopped me in the hallway.

"Er, we generally work it for 24 hours or so after notification, to make sure the person wasn't just sleeping off a bender in a hotel room or something, or to see if a body turns up. After that we give it to the FBI's Missing Persons Bureau, as they have better and national resources to investigate with. Why?"

"There's a couple in our waiting room." said Claire. "They're upset that their daughter was reported missing about six months ago, and they haven't heard a word about it."

"What was the missing woman's name?" I asked. Claire handed me a piece of paper with two names.

"She was a high-class call girl." Claire said. "Her real name was Dorian Sherwood, and her 'professional' name was Diana Shire."

"Okay, go get Myron to look up our records of it and whatever the FBI has, and bring me a file to Interrogation-A, pronto. I'll go see the parents." I said. I went to the lobby where a couple in the late 50s or early 60s were. The wife was attractive and the husband was very tall, but they both looked as if they'd aged a lot in just the past few months.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood?" I asked, which they confirmed. "My name is Commander Troy. Would you mind coming into this room with me so we can talk?"

Once in Interrogation-A, I had them sit down and I sat on the other side, the 'police' side. "I understand your daughter is missing?" I said.

"Yes, officer." said Mrs. Sherwood, sounding frustrated and a bit angry. "As we told the other officers, the ladies: we reported our daughter missing six months ago, but we haven't heard a word about her."

"Look, we know she was an escort girl," said her husband, "but she was a person, too, and she was our little girl. We just want to know what happened to her. Do you think we can talk to a Sergeant or someone in charge?"

"Uh, sir, I'm the Police Commander, the second-highest-ranking officer in the Police Force after the Chief himself." I said. The Sherwoods looked visibly startled.

"Oh!... I'm sorry... you just look so... young." Mr. Sherwood said.

"I'll take that as a compliment." I said, smiling. "Those ladies you just talked to are Detectives, and they're fetching our records of the case. While we're waiting for those, can you tell me about Dorian?"

"Like I said," said Mr. Sherwood, "we know she was a call girl. She went to School here, and majored in Psychology. She studied prostitution and women that went into the industry, and she... well she worked as one herself to understand it for herself. She never got out of it, and she seemed to like it. Her mother and I hated it, but we couldn't do anything to persuade her to leave it."

"How old was she when she disappeared?"

"Thirty-two." said Mrs. Sherwood. "She graduated from School ten years ago."

"Did you keep in touch with her, or did you argue and not have contact?"

"No, nothing like that." Mrs. Sherwood said. "We talked to her fairly often, usually every two to three months or so, same as with our other kids. Dorian was the youngest of three, and she has one brother and one sister. She came home every Christmas when the family gathered, and usually once in the summer, either Memorial Day or July 4th."

"When did you realize she was missing?"

"Last April I tried to call Dorian." her mother said. "Her cell phone had been shut off because the bill had not been paid. We called a friend who went to her townhouse, but nobody was there. So we came here. I had an extra key to her condo. There was nothing out of order in the house. It looked like she had just up and left suddenly, but her car was still in the garage. She had a tank of fish, and the fish had all died. So we called the police-"

At that moment, Detective Martin Nash came into the room from the Police side, dressed as always in a suit and tie. "Commander, I was the Detective on this case last April." Nash said after I introduced him to the Sherwoods. He handed me the file as I invited him to sit down next to me.

"So it looks like you gave it an extra day." I said to Nash as I looked at the notes. "Oh, let me explain that." I said to the Sherwoods. "When we get a missing persons report, we usually give it 24-48 hours, just checking to make sure a body is not found or that the person just went on a day trip or something and is just fine. If we don't get any leads, we give the case to the FBI. They have a Missing Persons Bureau that has much better resources and a national scope that is more than we could hope to have at the local level."

I turned to Martin. "So Martin, you actually gave this an extra effort. What did you find?" As Martin talked, I used the time to read the contents of the file. I looked at the pictures of the woman. She had light blonde hair, was 5'6" tall and well proportioned, and very pretty. Definitely high class, and she could've become a Trophy Wife in this town if she had wanted to.

Nash said "That was during the time we were looking for the crime scene for Carroll and Blondie. As to Ms. Sherwood, I checked around the places she was known to frequent and do business, as well as all the hotels in the area. To be frank with you, ma'am, sir, when a call girl disappears, we usually don't harbor much hope of finding her alive. Usually they o.d. on drugs or they're murdered. In your daughter's case, though, the people that knew her said she didn't use drugs, and her body never turned up at all. She was just there one day, then gone the next and wasn't seen again."

"So she might be alive?" asked the woman's father, hope in his voice.

"Well, she disappeared so completely that I actually had hopes she was alive and had just left town." said Nash. "I gave it another day, checked harder with some people to make sure they didn't know if she had travel plans, then I gave it to the FBI. I followed up with them for a few days, but then we got really busy with another case and I didn't check back.

"I'm looking at the FBI's notes here." I said. "I think I'll call them and see what they can tell me."

I looked up at the missing woman's parents. "Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood, I can promise you that I am going to personally look into this case for you. But I need to tell you this: don't get your hopes up. She was on good terms with you, but hasn't communicated with you for months. That tells me she either wants to not be found, or else she's no longer with us to be able to contact anyone. But I will do what I can, and I'll get back to you in a few days."

-------

Back in my office, I talked with Martin and Cindy about the case.

"Did you check out her apartment when she first was reported missing?" I asked.

"Yes, sir." said Martin. "She hadn't been there in some time. Her fish were dead, the room was dusty and undisturbed. Her purse was gone, though. Her car was in the garage, but I remember from the notes that neighbors said she was picked up by someone after sunset in early February. One of them said it was the evening before 'that police officer's funeral through town'."

"Feeley's funeral was February 6th." I said. "Martin, did anyone check the refrigerator?"

"Yes sir." said Nash. "I think the Crime Lab did."

I looked at the notes. "Yes, here it is. Oh wow, that's so great!- they wrote down here that the milk in the refrigerator was dated Feb. 12th, about two months before the search. That means the February 5th timeframe is spot-on."

"Wow, I just learned something." said Martin Nash, making a note of the milk date trick.

I said "I called the FBI Missing Persons people... and I asked Jack Muscone to call them too, since he once worked in Missing Persons. They apparently did not give the case much of their time. Jack told me privately that he was disappointed in the lack of effort, even if it was a call girl."

"Commander, with respect," said Cindy, "I can understand them not wasting too much time on this. Out of curiosity, why has this piqued your interest?"

"I don't really know." I said, sitting back in my comfortable chair, my 'Command chair' as I secretly called it to myself. "Maybe it's meeting the parents, seeing them worried, realizing that this girl is someone's daughter and sister. And like you said, Martin: it also intrigues me because she vanished so completely and with no trace whatsoever. That is not so easy to do as people might think. No body found, and you guys know we find the bodies when they're there to be found..." Both my Detectives gave perfunctory smiles at my attempt at humor.

I continued, talking to myself as much as to my Detectives, "So she disappears completely, which suggests it was her idea and she wanted to not be found. But she was in good with her family, so why stop the contact with them? Hmmm, what happened there to cause both those things? I'm thinking to myself..."

"Okay, I'm going to take a day or two and look into this one personally." I said. "Cindy, is Martin busy?"

"He's still wrapping up the Blair suicide case." Cindy said. "I'll go with you; Lord knows your mother has trained me thoroughly enough on these cold cases."

"Oh, that's right; Martin, you just dodged a bullet." I said. "And Cindy, I want you overseeing MCD and keeping an eye on Vice; we've got a big case in each squad. Okay, what about Teddy Parker? Let me have him; I need to evaluate him, anyway."

"You got it." Cindy said.

Part 3 - Investigations

Young Detective Teddy Parker and I were sitting in Myron Milton's cubicle office in the basement of the Headquarters building on the morning of October 17th.

"No, Commander," said Myron, "Agent Muscone twisted the FBI Missing Persons people's arms to let me into their facial recognition system, but a 24-hour search revealed no one matching 'Dorian Sherwood' or 'Diana Shire' coming up, especially at City International Airport, any other major airports, and the Amtrak Stations in the City and Southport."

"It was a longshot, at best." I said. "No prostitute arrests anywhere matching the description?"

"Well, there's a ton of blonde call girls getting arrested." Myron said. "But I narrowed the search to women older than 30, which really cuts the number down. Girls don't usually last too many years in the world's oldest profession, and it's fairly rare to have a woman over 30 streetwalking."

"They usually go into the private escort business or find a sugar daddy and get married." I said. "The girls that work the clubs and the street whores are the ones that get burnt out, or turn up dead."

"Bottom line, nothing." said Myron. "I'll keep looking."

"Don't waste too much time and resources on it." I said. "This really is the FBI's job, though they don't seem too eager to do it. I'm not saying that as a complaint: it's been six months and she was a hooker, however high class. But let them burn their computers on it for a while if you don't come up with something soon."

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Teddy Parker and I entered the hottest club in the Tenderloin District at 10:00am after our meeting with Myron. It was almost empty, being closed, and cleaning crew were working to get it ready for the evening. There were a couple of black men at the front bar.

I was wearing plainclothes, no tie, and my light raincoat/trenchcoat as I approached the bar. Teddy Parker was in plainclothes also, but unlike Martin Nash, he couldn't make his suit look good on his body. He looked like he'd just come out of prison with a State-issued suit of clothes.