The Hot Date Mystery Ch. 01

"As you know," Nash said, "we have a base camp house in the area. Two people have manned it at all times for radio communications, and we know it's being watched. You can see Michael Burke's home in the southwest corner here, the road running east-west at the bottom of the screen that goes to the town of Waguli near Lake Watchacoochie, the road running north here to the FBI's cabin and then further north into the Wilderness Areas, and Lake Amengi-Nunagen to the right of it, which is east."

Nash continued: "Lake Amengi-Nunagen is a very large lake. The dam is here, to the south, and the Waguli Road runs right along the top of the dam. The land east of Lake Amengi-Nunagen is all Wildlife Management Area, owned by the Federal Government. There are private residences at Lake Watchacoochie on the far east side of this photo."

Nash went on: "There are twenty private residences in the Lake-Amengi-Nunagen area. Sixteen of them are owned by people we believe to be associated with what Commander Troy would call the 'Establishment Elites'. All are wealthy, all have ties to banks or large businesses, all are white, fifteen are men and two are women."

Another slide came up. Nash said: "This is a satellite photo of the area north of Michael Burke's residence and to the west of most of the other properties as well as west of the Lake. It's pretty heavily wooded, but it is a fenced-in compound. There are buildings on the property, but camouflage netting has been put up over the buildings. Camo netting has also been erected in other places. We believe this spot is actually a firing range."

Nash continued: "The outer perimeter of the compound is under camera surveillance. The fence is electrified as well as wired with sensor devices and possibly booby traps. It is also patrolled at least once an hour, every day and every night. The security people there wear camo or black uniforms, and carry M-4s as well as pistols."

Nash went on: "We know we can't just walk up to the place, but we have several agents who were once Marine Recon snipers. They are damn good at disguising themselves. They went to work doing surveillance on the place, and a couple of them got into the compound for twenty-four hours without being spotted. They took a lot of pictures, and this one is the one that is of the most interest to us."

A fuzzy picture of a man in fatigues came up. His head was shaved bald, but the droopy mustache was unmistakeable. Cindy gasped. Jack Muscone's beady black eyes turned jet.

"Ahhhhh," I said in a falsetto voice reminiscent of City Detective E.J. Jefferson, "so that's where Dick Ferrell has gotten himself off to. I was expecting him to show up sooner or later."

Martin Nash said "We think he's training recruits in boot camp style at this facility. He also may be an operational planner for them."

"Who?" Cindy asked. "Militia? White supremacists?"

"Possibly both." said Eduardo Escobar.

Nash said "The owner of this land, and this facility, is named Franklin Gray. Gray is associated with a group called 'Stormbringer', and he's a close associate of Judge J.B. Stone, who is now in Coltrane County to your south. All long-time white supremacists. This may be one of their training bases."

"How long has this camp been here?" I asked.

"Longer than we have any records for." said Nash. "Franklin Gray is 62 years old. He's a member of the boards of BigPharmaCorp, BigAgraFoods, WorldBankTrust, and Acme Tool & Die, which was an offshoot of Henry Wargrave's Acme empire.

"BEEP BEEP!" said Cindy.

I laughed, but everyone else looked at her funny. Cindy said "Didn't you guys watch Roadrunner cartoons? The Coyote would order things from Acme..."

"Oh. Yeah." said Jack Muscone. "I think what worries most is that the Iron Crowbar laughed."

"The Iron Crowbar watches Roadrunner cartoons with his kids and dogs." I said with a smile. "Good stuff. I'm still rooting for Wile E. Coyote." The look on Martin Nash's face was pure 'How did I lose control of this meeting?'

I then said "Okay, so Franklin Gray checks off all the right boxes. What else do you have?"

"Just that our signal intelligence group is getting nothing from the facility." said Nash. "They might be receiving, but they are not transmitting."

"Are you getting ham radio transmission signals from anywhere in the area?" I asked.

"Yes," said Nash, "from six of the twenty residences in the area. And they all have registered with legitimate call signs. I can bring those up on the computer..."

"We'll get that later." I said. "But the facility itself is not transmitting anything?"

"No, Commander." said Nash.

I nodded thoughtfully. "What about Michael Burke? Has he visited the facility?"

"Not that we know of." said Nash. "None of the residents in the area have gone there, except Franklin Gray, who has a home on the property but not near this facility."

"Okay, Martin, that's good information." said Muscone. "So, Don, what do you think of all this?"

"It's all wrong." I mused, halfway in a reverie.

"What?!" gasped several people. I looked around.

"Oh, sorry." I said, understanding. "What Martin said is correct. What I meant was that this whole set-up doesn't fit. They are trying to deceive us."

"Perish forbid anyone try to do that to the Iron Crowbar." said Cindy. A red crowbar was waved in her general direction. I also contemplated where this pawky irreverence was coming from.

"Indeed." said Muscone, rescuing Cindy. "A lot of money has changed hands in failing to do that." He was referring to the betting that the DepDirector had had to order stopped. "What's the deception, Don?"

"This whole thing is exactly what we would expect to see when dealing with a white militia group." I said. "I know, I know, Timothy McVeigh wiped out a building in Oklahoma City, which is in the minds of anyone and everyone. We also had the recent paramilitary action at Providence Springs. So the FBI is expending considerable manpower and time watching this facility, and it is exactly what they are expecting to see."

"And we shouldn't be?" asked Martin Nash.

"Well, you're not wrong to watch over them and gather intel." I said. "And they may well be training to do something. But from what I'm understanding of these guys... this doesn't fit their mold."

I continued: "There are a number of these militia groups all over the U.S. Most of them are overblown and overgrown wannabee-soldiers, paintball players, and the like. Some are overblown doomsday preppers, and the Media happily tells us that they're waiting and prepping for the race wars, or a showdown with the Government."

"But the real Big Boys in all this..." I said, "... are not interested in this chickenshit stuff. They have a totally different objective. And they'd rather use riots and unrest as their tools than militias running around in the woods."

"Then what was 'Providence Springs'?" asked Muscone.

"Just what I said." I replied. "Chickenshit stuff. Stuff the FBI expected to see... and maybe some of them wanted to see, meaning it fit their expectations, not that they wanted it to happen. I mean, what was going to happen if the bad guys had wiped out Providence Springs? They were in no position to take it any further, and if they'd tried to do more, the National Guard would've come out and annihilated them."

"Didn't you think they were infiltrating banks and the Courts and local law enforcement to control towns and black populations?" asked Lindy Linares.

"Yes, and they still are." I said. "But there are two things about that: first, the Consultant of Crime was advising them on that strategy, and it suited his purposes much more than it suited theirs. It was slow, and it was set up in a way that he could come in and control the whole thing. They realized it after Providence Springs failed, though having control of the banks and apparatuses of Government was to their liking. They're still doing it, but with a better understanding of their own goals."

"Second," I said, "they also realized it wasn't something that created division... it would create unity against them. They need division, chaos, disorder. They need to pit groups against groups, inspire and instill hatred and fear. They can't stomach a unifying, peaceful Government, nor politicians that actually want common sense solutions to problems. Ergo, they're changing their tactics."

"So you don't think this facility at Lake Amengi-Nunagen is important?" asked Martin Nash. He seemed a little miffed under his normally even demeanor.

"No, I'm not saying that." I said, realizing they weren't understanding. "Tell me again what training they were doing at this facility?"

Nash said "Our Marine Recon guys said it looked like a basic training camp. Weapons familiarization, land navigation, basic squad tactics."

"Any sniper training?" I asked.

"Not sure." said Nash.

"What about crowd control?" I asked. "Or running a detention facility, like a FEMA camp?"

"What they're doing in patrolling the facility could be training of that kind." said Nash.

"All right." said Muscone, feeling the tension and confusion in the room. "Why don't you guys take Ms. Ross to the Country Breakfast Diner for lunch. Expense it, Martin, and I'll make sure it's comped. Don and I will talk further, then get lunch somewhere else."

"Double cheeseburgers, take cover!" said Cindy as they all got up. She then realized that her humor was not cutting through the awkward tension.

Once they had all left, Jack said "I think I understand what you're saying, Don. But my boss is not going to like it. We've put a lot of man-hours, and weeks of time and effort and danger into finding out about that facility and what it's doing... and you're saying it's just.. a ruse?"

"No, it's a real and potentially dangerous group." I said. "But at the same time, we have to see it in proper context, and not be fooled by Superior Bloodlines into looking at one hand while the other is doing even dirtier work."

"And what dirtier work is that?" asked Muscone.

"Creating riots." I said. "Creating racial tensions on both sides, and unrest. Your boss is a wee bit too locked in on Superior Bloodlines, and he's not seeing a larger picture, such as T-Square and other Black celebrities and entertainers working to destabilize what they believe is 'The Man', i.e. our entire society."

"So what will they do next?" asked Muscone.

"I don't know." I said. "If I did, I wouldn't be sitting here, and neither would you. We'd be out there stopping it. I do think it happens in this State... too many political interests were most very unhappy that Governor Val Jared was re-elected by the People of this State."

"So, what's next for us?"

"For you, double cheeseburgers." I said. "For me, working against those special interests to 'right-size' the SBI and weed out its corruption. Oh... and when we get Ferrell, you get first crack at him... for what he did to Tanya."

"Thank you." said Muscone. "I'm going to take you up on that. Now let me take you up to the Cop Bar for those double cheeseburgers..."

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

Captain Cindy Ross was admitted to my office at 2:30pm. She sat down in a hot chair rather than her normal place on the sofa.

"How was lunch with our FBI friends?" I asked.

"Lunch was good," Cindy said, "but they were all very... 'disquieted', I guess is the word. They did not like what you said in that meeting one bit."

"Why not?"

Cindy thought about it, then said "I think some of it is knowing their boss, the Deputy Director is not going to be happy with what you said. But some of it is that Martin has been working hard on this, and I know you didn't mean to be cruel, but you basically said everything he's worked on is either unimportant or a ruse that successfully deceived him and the FBI."

"I... " I started, then caught myself and breathed for a second. "Good grief. No, that's not what I said. I'm not saying it was unimportant, and it's not just idle stuff they're doing at that facility."

"I know." Cindy said. "But you do think it's a ruse, or at least a distraction?"

"Well, if we knew exactly what they were doing in there, we'd know better." I said. "They could be making bombs to plant at events with crowds, they could be planning on starting riots, they could be the ones that will be used to keep the chaos going...

"But you don't believe it." Cindy said as she studied me.

"Call it a vibe." I said. "But I don't think it is what Jack's boss is looking for in the way of bringing down Superior Bloodlines. Oh... and yes... it is a ruse that has totally preoccupied and deceived the FBI to this point."

Part 4 - Killer Date

7:00pm, Friday, January 20th. It was not all that busy at the Cop Bar, especially for a Friday night. Cindy, Teresa, Chief Moynahan and I had gathered to start the weekend off right by consuming a pitcher of beer.

"Sooooo, Ms. Croyllllle," drawled the Chief, "how did things go with your doctor appointment?"

"Pretty rough at first." Teresa said. "Thankfully, Dr. Fredricson had given me some advice, and I'm not going to do the chemo thing. There's a new treatment out with a much more body-friendly drug that I'm going to try out."

"And that little report I heard about the need to use a crowbar on someone?" asked the Chief.

"The Iron Crowbar takes care of his family, sir." said Teresa.

"Including the family sitting at this table." I said, "Which includes you, Teresa." Teresa and I fist-bumped.

"What about you, Ms. Ross?" asked the Chief.

"Pretty quiet on the home front." Cindy said. She then reached out and touched the wooden table. "Touch wood on that, lest I jinx us. Anyway, I went with Don to the FBI's briefing, then had lunch with them while Jack and Don went off on their own without adult supervision."

"Gotta watch out for us big kids." I said.

"As I told Don," Cindy said, "I think there's some confusion in their ranks." I nodded. Cindy explained things to the Chief and Teresa.

"What about you, Mr. Crowbarrr?" asked the Chief. "All quiet with you, what with your Angels taking care of business?"

"They're doing great." I said. "As for me, I'm being stretched in about twenty different directions. The FBI and Superior Bloodlines is part of it. I also am getting pressure from Chief Griswold and the Governor to come in and use a crowbar to pry some slow-moving bills out of the Legislature. The SBI bill fight is turning ugly, but it's obviously not my priority. But I'm going to go down to Midtown tomorrow and see what I can do."

"Good." said the Chief. "For me, the Sheriff has rubber-stamped the choices for Detective Track that you all submitted, and the Council will ratify the Lieutenant choices next Tuesday at their meet-ing."

"Who are the new Lieutenants going to be?" asked Cindy. The Chief looked at me, and I looked at Teresa.

"Carswell and Irwin." Teresa said. "They'll be the Precinct Lieutenants, and deputies to the Precinct Captains."

"What about Rudistan?" asked Cindy. She had lobbied for Rudistan to be strongly considered.

"It was a really tough choice between Irwin and Rudistan." I said. "Both are well-qualified and good leaders. But in the long run, we decided that Irwin fit the position a little bit better, and he has more time-in-grade than Rudistan." I did not mention that Sergeant Irwin had been one of Teresa's 'right-hand-men' during her time in Vice, and she naturally showed a preference for putting him in the position. And it was ultimately her call to make.

"Besides," I continued, "what would we do without Sergeant Rudistan's comments at the coffee klatch every morning?"

"Exactly why I was trying to promote him out of there." Cindy shot back. We all laughed.

Once the pitcher of beer was consumed, I headed back to the Cabin. Molly was coming over with the boys, and I picked up Carole and Jim along the way. Laura had a date this evening... with the young stud Nick Eastwood. I knew she was in for a long, hard night... being ravished by his huge cock with his stamina behind it...

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

Alas, my intentions to go to Midtown were thwarted. I was asleep, with Molly in my arms and her ass pressed into my abdomen as we spooned. At 1:00am, Saturday, January 21st, I was awakened by my Police cellphone going off. That got Bowser angrily barking, and that woke up Carole.

I picked up the cellphone. "Troy." I said sleepily as Molly got up to attend Carole and shush Bowser.

"Sir, this is the First Precinct Duty Desk." said the voice at the other end of the line. He named a location that was a row of Townhouses just north of Town. "Someone reported blood coming through the ceiling of their condo, and when our guys went to check, they found a body. It looks like murder, sir."

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

"My mom is going to live over in Building 6." Cindy was saying to Joanne Warner. "This is Building 4... the number '4' is bad in Chinese philosophy."

"It's not doing so great in Iron Crowbar philosophy, either." I said as I came up to them. "Okay, whaddya got?"

"Terry Schultz, age 34, owner of this condo, sir." said Joanne. I was looking at a white, black-haired woman lying face down on the floor at the foot of her bed, clad only in her nightgown. She looked to have been in good physical condition, fit, and from the photo on her drivers license, she was attractive.

Her apartment was on the second floor. Her throat had been slashed and her blood had soaked through the carpet down to the ceiling of the apartment below, waking up that home's owners to a horrifying sight.

"Their names are Tommy and Tina Yaris." Joanne said. "He also happens to be the Homeowner's Association employee, responsible for things like the common areas, garages, and security cameras. Anyway, they called the Police, and with no answer at the door nor answering of her cell phone, I gave the go-ahead to forcibly enter the apartment."

"Yes, I think dripping blood is sufficient 'probable cause'." I replied. "Which Officers responded to the call?"

"Senior Patrolman Hicks and Patrol Officer Inga Gunddottar." said Joanne. "I was on call, and the 1st Precinct Duty Desk called me immediately after they dispatched them to the scene, since blood was already found. I called back after the body was found, and asked them to call Captain Ross and you, sir."

"Good." I said as I began looking around the bedroom, where the Crime Lab team was already at work.

The bedsheets were messed up, showing that the bed had been slept in, and possibly (likely, actually) that sex had occurred upon it. Some clothes were lying on the floor near the closet door in a very small pile. The door to the bedroom from the hall came in at the "lower right" side, and the far wall was the wall to the front of the condo and the street. The window in that wall was draped. I peeked out to see the street below and condos on the other side.

The bed was against the left-side wall. To the left of the door, on the inner wall, was a a long, thin table, and on it was a laptop computer, with a chair in front of it; a temporary set-up to be sure, and one of convenience for the late owner to use her computer on without having to leave the bedroom.

"There's no television set in here." Joanne said. "The computer is still here on this side table. Doesn't look like anything was taken from the main room or kitchen, but I can't be sure because either she or her cleaning service dusts very well."

Just then, Christina Cho handed J.R. Barnes a glass microscope slide. He had a small, portable microscope and was looking at the sample.

"Check this out." said J.R. "She has semen in her vagina, and the sperm are motile, meaning sex was very recent." Joanne, Cindy, and I all took turns looking at the sample, and yep, those little swimmers were vigorously swimming, seeking an egg that they would never find. Christina examined it as the official second witness to it; even so, J.R. told one Crime Lab member to get the sample to the State Crime Lab immediately so that they could also document it, and also begin doing a DNA search.