The Credit Card Caper Ch. 01

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"I smell pork." said one of the black men as I approached the bar.

"True enough," I said, "but I'm not here to get anyone in trouble. I just want to talk to 'T-Square' for a minute."

"Are you kidding, Cracker?" said the man behind the bar. "Cops don't walk in here asking for the big stud like that."

A voice called out from the door leading to the back areas: "Jerome, that is the one and only cop or cracker that can come in here and ask to see me." It was T-Square himself. How he could see with those sunglasses on in the dim light, I didn't know.

T-Square came up to me and gave me a good thumb-interlock handshake, somewhat to my surprise. "Well, if it ain't my favorite Cracker, the Iron Crowbar. Come on in back. You can bring your new boy here with you, too."

"Mighty white of you." I said. T-Square laughed at that one as we headed through some back hallways. In the room just before the one to which we were headed, I saw through the open door a younger black man sitting on the sofa, with a pretty white woman sucking his enormous black snake of a cock. I recognized him as 'T-Mac', and the woman was Gloria Cagle, the woman that had been broken out of The Asylum with Eleanor Burke the previous summer. She was topless, her lovely breasts resting on T-Mac's powerful thigh as she expertly fellated him.

Teddy Parker gawked at the site of Gloria swallowing T-Mac's enormous black size as T-Square led me into a very well-appointed office with some luxurious furniture, a black wood desk and a huge chair behind it.

"So what do you need, I.C.?" asked T-Square, sitting down in his big chair behind the desk. I handed him two pictures of Diana Shire.

"I'm looking for this woman." I said. "High class escort, but getting older, and was known to hang out in the clubs, but didn't work as a stripper. Disappeared last Spring. She actually has out-of-town family looking for her."

"Damn, I.C., I got bitches coming in and out of my clubs every couple of weeks." said T-Square. "But you know... this girl is pretty hot. I think I'd remember her. Let me get my boy in here. HEY, T-MAC! YOU AND YO BITCH COME IN HERE! NOW!"

Seconds later, they came into the room. T-Mac had managed to get his big black snake into his pants, but nothing could hide the enormous bulge. Gloria was still topless, her criss-crossed hands covering her breasts. They really were magnificent mammaries, and I understood why T-Mac liked this woman despite her being in her 30s: great tits and a smokin' hot mouth.

"Do either of you remember this bitch?" T-Square asked, handing them the pictures. Gloria shook her head, but T-Mac nodded.

"She's not one of our girls." T-Mac said. "I remember when she worked at 'Eruption' two or three years ago, but they kicked her out because she was flirtin' but not workin'. Last I heard, she was hanging out in that Bar Code's club on South Street."

"There you go, I.C." said T-Square.

"I appreciate the help." I said. "I owe you one." I motioned to Parker and we turned to go.

"Hey I.C.!" said T-Mac as we got to the door. "If that cat of yours Sharples were to walk in here like you did, he wouldn't walk out. He's burnt bridges. Just sayin', ya know?"

"I hear ya, bro." I said. "I'll keep that dog on a leash."

As we got into my SUV, Teddy Parker asked "What's a 'Bar Code'?"

"It's a derogatory term for a Jew, based upon them being marked in the Nazi death camps." I said. "They're talking about Weinstein, who runs a mid-size strip joint south of here, near Hotel Row."

"Did that guy really mean it about Sharples?" Parker asked.

"Oh yeah!" I said. "Well... they're not just going to go kill a cop and have me come down on 'em. But Sharples has made a lot of enemies in this Town; he has to watch his back."

--------

"Yeah, yeah, I remember her." said Weinstein, whose first name was unknown to me, nor apparently to anyone else. He was restocking his bar when we came in. He was short, had longish, curly black hair, wore octagonal spectacles, and he looked slender but was actually strong and tough.

"Dinah, I think... or Diana, that was her name. She used to hang out around here." he said. "Sometimes she let a client pick her up, but for the most part she was just a party girl, dancing with guys, talking with them. I don't think she really needed the money, so she turned tricks when she felt like it."

"What happened to her?" I asked.

"She just stopped coming in. Maybe last Winter, when business got slow."

"Did she have any girlfriends that hung out with her?" I asked. "Was she friendly with the other girls here?"

"She occasionally went home with one of the strippers, though the girls here usually go out with clients after getting off work, to get some extra money." said Weinstein. "She never worked the pole herself, though. Thought she was too good for that."

"Where else did she hang out?" I asked.

"No idea." Weinstein said. He paused from his work, then said "I figured maybe she went back to working the hotel bars, maybe places nearer the School. Older girls are starting to be in vogue with business travelers these days, and the fucking nerds at the School go for those older, experienced gals, if you know what I mean."

"She never said anything about traveling? Going out of town?" I asked, knowing that Weinstein overheard a lot more than he was letting on; information was one of his biggest tradable assets.

"Not that I heard." Weinstein said. "And I don't really keep tabs on the girls that work in here, but she was here one day, gone the next, never came in again. That's all I can really tell you."

---------

"So what do you think, Detective Parker?" I asked as we drove back to Headquarters.

"I don't know, sir." said Parker. "I like what you always say about not theorizing without data. We don't have too much data, sir."

"That's true, but based on what you've read and observed, what ideas just pop into your head?"

"What I can't get over is her just leaving her condo without taking anything... no clothes, no jewelry, nothing." said Teddy. "So it'd have to be something big, really big, to pull her away. I get this idea that some guy with money came in, offered her a lot of money to go away with him on a moment's notice, maybe they go to the Bahamas or something, and then she dies. Maybe he kills her, maybe there's an accident, but something happened."

"I like that." I said. "I like it a lot. There's a few holes in it: she had a passport but didn't take it with her... but that doesn't mean she wasn't taken somewhere. Another idea along your lines is that she was enticed just as you said, then she was taken somewhere and sold into a white slavery ring."

"Detective Nash said he and the FBI looked at that when she first disappeared, but they didn't think it was the case." said Teddy Parker. "She didn't really fit the profile, she was too old, and the FBI didn't get any international reports about someone looking like her being seen anywhere."

--------

Back in Headquarters, a fairly rare thing happened: I was asked to come into Vice and talk with their Detectives.

Teresa Croyle and Earl Jefferson sat at the table in the middle of the room with me. The installation of that table had been Lt. Croyle's first achievement upon returning to our Police Force. It was a new day, and a different style than Captain Malone's had been.

"Sonali and Lainie got this information for us." said E.J. "First, Spence Foster had no financial problems. Never really did before his wife died, and he got a $500,000 life insurance payout upon her death. He saved most of it, and just continued along with his business. His credit cards are okay, he has no significant other debt, and no there are leads on that. We haven't found any information on any savings or investments he might have been doing, though."

"We may need a warrant to get some of that stuff." Teresa said.

"What about Alicia Foster?" I asked.

"She's a little more interesting." said E.J. "First, she was employed by DynaCorp, the late Mr. Warner's company that is now in a litigation fight between his heirs. She was a graduate of Georgia Tech, then Cal-Poly, and some of the work she did for DynaCorp was for their CIA contracts, so it's classified."

"Engineer, eh?" I said. "I can try to get more on what she did with DynaCorp. I just got a Top Secret clearance for my FBI consulting work. So what else?"

"Nothing, except she was making regular payments to a charity, a charitable trust to be more accurate." said Jefferson. "Several thousand each month. She wasn't saving anything else that we can find, but the amounts were pretty large. Looks like she and her husband were living off his money, and most of hers went to this trust."

Teresa added. "The trust could be a blind, and she was making payments to herself, maybe as a tax dodge."

"That's something you can get Julie Newton working on." I said. "Hmmm... I wonder if Spence Foster knows about those payments to that trust."

"Keep talking like that, sir," said Teresa, "and this isn't going to be a Vice case any longer."

"As long as we're following the money, it is." I said. "And you two will stay on this, no matter where it goes. Good cross-training, if nothing else."

"I did talk to some DynaCorp employees that she worked with." said Jefferson. "They couldn't talk about the nature of her work, but I just asked them how everyone felt about her death. They all said it was shocking and that they missed her, she seemed to be well liked. They also did say that she was an important part of their work."

"Did y'all go down to Coltrane County and get info on her car crash?" I asked. At that point Teresa looked up at the ceiling while Earl assumed a look that could only be described as intimidating. If a black man could blush, Earl was blushing with anger at that moment.

"We went to the Police Station." said Teresa. "The receptionist there was a middle aged woman. She looked at E.J. as if he were a piece of trash that was littering her floor. She said that the Sheriff and Deputies were all out of the office, wouldn't say when they'd be back. Said we could fill out pages of forms to get the police reports of the accident. So we went to the Courthouse in Buford to get the records, which are stored there. We were met by another woman at the desk, who gave us the same treatment. I very much suspect that the CCPD woman called the Courthouse when we left the police station."

"Oh really?" I asked. "How were you dressed?"

"Like we are now." said Earl. "Plain clothes."

"Earl, go put on a uniform. The 'State Trooper' look." That meant a light blue shirt with pinned on rank (no soft shoulder-boards), and police blue pants with light blue piping for Earl, and yellow piping for me. I had on soft shoulder-boards on my uniform when I changed into it, so that I would not have to wear the black leather belt sash. I suggested to Teresa to wear the "black" uniform that was becoming popular around the place. It made her look like the hot but tough bitch she was.

We drove down to Coltrane County. I'd called Deputy Strait's personal cell number and told him to expect us at the Station, and he said he and the Sheriff were there waiting for us.

When we walked in, the receptionist frowned at the sight of Jefferson. I didn't bother to speak to her, but walked past her as the Sheriff came to the door.

"Commander Troy, glad to see you!" said Sheriff Sorrells, shaking my hand. Deputy Strait was already in his office, awaiting us.

"Sheriff, Deputy, good to see you both again." I said, still in the reception area. "This is Lieutenant Croyle and I want you to meet my new Detective, E.J. Jefferson. He's doing some great work for us."

The Sheriff shook their hands and greeted them in his Southerly manner, showing no hint of disdain for E.J... to the receptionist's great displeasure. I knew she'd be picking up the phone to call someone the moment we closed the door to the Sheriff's office.

"Glad to have you down here." said the Sheriff as we were all seated. "Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coca-Cola?"

"I thought I'd come down and check in with you guys, introduce you to my new people." I said, going through necessary ritual niceties rather than get straight to the point.

"Glad you did." said the Sheriff. "Lieutenant Croyle, I know it caused you some trouble, but I for one loved it when you whipped the shit out of that little bugger Dean Allen last Christmas Eve. That smug little bastard had it coming."

"Thank you sir." Teresa said.

"And Nathan Allen is dead." said the Sheriff. "Can't say how happy I am about that. Seriously, I'll get in trouble if I do say it, but that was one dirty, corrupt bastard, Commander. This county, it has its issues, it runs a certain way and I know how I have to play the game... but that bastard was over the line."

"No one is happier than I am about Senator Allen's demise, Sheriff... and I will say it, and in front of anyone." I said.

"Heh heh heh." said the Sheriff. "So, ladies and gentlemen, what can we do for you today?" Time to get down to business.

"We had someone attempt to use a dead woman's credit card." I said. "The deceased was killed in a car crash in the southern part of your county, and I wanted to get the particulars on the accident."

"Deputy?" said the Sheriff.

"Yes sir, I remember that one." said the youngish Deputy Strait, in his eagerly helpful voice. "It was last February 6th. I remember because you had your officer's funeral later that day and we all took up some money for his mother. Anyway, it was a really bad wreck. Car and the body inside burned completely up."

"Deputy, why don't you pull your notes for them, then take them to the scene." said Sheriff Sorrells.

-------

We took my SUV. Deputy Strait rode shotgun, and he was amazed at the computer, hi-tech radio and GPS gear in the vehicle. Coltrane County couldn't compare. I remembered to be grateful for what we had.

"I hope you'll tell Lieutenant Ross how happy I am she's recovered from getting wounded." said Strait. "And we're all proud as punch about her getting that Medal of Honor."

"Medal of Valor, that's what we call it." corrected Teresa. "And she deserved it. We'll tell her you were thinking of her."

"Okay, pull over right here." said Strait as we neared a bridge. We did and got out of the SUV. Strait pointed down the hill.

"The car was a Honda Accord." said Strait. "There were no tire marks on the road up here, so we don't think it was hit or tried to stop. We got the notion that the driver fell asleep at the wheel and ran off the road."

"Fairly steep grade, but not so much the car would tumble or fly over it." I said. We started making our way down.

"Yes sir." said Strait. "The car apparently just ran off the road and rode down to this road. It hit the ditch by the farm road, which stopped it, but it rolled out enough to be on the road when it came to a halt. It caught fire, too. You can see where the asphalt was damaged."

"Hmmmm, wonder what caused it to catch fire?" I asked. "Maybe a spark when the undercarriage hit the edge of the road really hard." After a pause I asked "So I understand you guys didn't take any samples for DNA testing?"

"Aw, sir, we don't have the facilities or the money for high-level testing like that." said Strait. "We got the car tag number and VIN, learned it was Alicia Foster's car, called her husband. He said she wasn't at home. The Coroner did run a blood test for alcohol, but it came back clean. The Coroner got the ortho... ortho... er, the dental stuff, but Mrs. Foster had never been to the dentist, from what your Department's I.T. people told us. But the body height, weight and shape generally matched, her rings were on the fingers and all."

"So your Coroner did the autopsy?" I asked.

"Yes sir." said Strait. "He's pretty good as far as Coroner's go, from what I hear. Not like that guy you've got, that's about to lose his re-election campaign."

"Oh, so you heard about that, did you Deputy Strait?" I asked with a grin. "So tell me, did anyone else ask about the woman's death, or ask for the autopsy report?"

"Not that I know of, Commander." said Strait. "Not until you guys started asking about it today."

"So where did they take the car?" I asked.

"To the County Junkyard." said Strait. "I can take you there now, if you like."

"Yes, let's go before it gets too late and the sun sets." I said.

At the junkyard, Strait took us to the car, which the junkyard operator said was in the very back area with the worst-damaged, most useless cars. Indeed, the car was burnt to the frame, virtually nothing left. It was stacked on other cars, and so was about five feet off the ground, giving me a good view of the insides and underside.

"Deputy, was there any testing done on the car to ascertain why it burned so hotly and completely?" I asked.

"No sir." said Strait. "Like I said, money's tight in our County. And nobody really thought about it, either."

"So guys, what do you think of this car?" I asked Teresa and E.J.

"This thing is burned up!" exclaimed Jefferson. "Even if nobody got to the scene quickly, to burn this completely ain't normal, Commander."

"Totally agree." Teresa said. "Commander, what's that spot there?" She pointed to a discoloring at the base of the steering wheel shaft.

"Hmmm," I said. "Good catch, Lieutenant. Looks like something was attached there, but was taken off after the fire."

--------

Back at Coltrane County Police Headquarters, I read the Coroner's report. The body was totally ravaged by the fire, leaving very little to even do an autopsy on. But what I was looking for was the 'negatives'.

"No blunt force trauma to the skull." I said. "No gunshot wounds could be ascertained. Your Coroner did a pretty good job, there."

"Think there's something suspicious about the death?" asked the Sheriff.

"Oh, I don't know." I said. "Maybe I'm making a mountain out of a molehill after this credit card showed up. Well, guys, I appreciate all your help. And if there's anything we can help you with, something that needs extra testing, let me know."

"Maybe you can help us with this." said the Sheriff. "Our County Commission has had enough of the SBI. We can hardly afford it, but we can afford the SBI's dictating terms to us even less. We hammered out a deal that our County Commission and the Buford City Council both passed off on, to send our stuff to your Crime Lab for testing. We only need someone on your end that has the authority to sign it."

"I can sign it! Right now!" I said happily. As the Police Commander and part of the Command Group, I was authorized by the Council to sign contracts on behalf of the Town & County Police Department, just as the Chief was.

The Sheriff produced the documents, I signed in my place, taking great pleasure in poking SBI Director Jack Lewis in the eye. Having already made a similar deal with Nextdoor County, my Crime Lab would now run all samples for the 1st State Senate and 1st Congressional District of the State! The 'Northwest Territories', as we jokingly called the tri-county district, was out of the SBI's hands, evidence-wise... and that was a good thing.

Part 4 - More Puzzle Pieces

October 18th. After sending some of my Crime Lab people to meet Deputy Strait and to take samples from the burned car at the Coltrane County junkyard, utilizing the new agreement between our counties (and giving them this one as a 'freebie'), I went to the FBI suite in the Federal Building on Courthouse Square. Using my Top Secret clearance, I looked up what Alicia Foster had been doing with DynaCorp.

Though I understood why it was classified, the information was a bit disappointing. She dealt mainly with mechanical processes and CNC machine programs in building some of DynaCorp's technology for the CIA, technology which involved spy satellites. Hardly what I'd hoped for.