The Medical Murder Mystery Ch. 04

"A lot of Dr. Paul Wicker's prescriptions were found filed at the pharmacy, but they're in date order, not alphabetical order, so it'll be a bear picking out any Natasha Norelle or Darla Clifford prescriptions." said Teresa Croyle in the Vice Room. Cindy, myself, Sandra Speer and Jack Muscone were in there, and Christopher Purvis and Julie Newton were at their desks, listening as Teresa continued "The prescriptions on the computer are encrypted; it'll take a bit of time to get into them, but Myron thinks it'll be pretty easy."

"If he has any trouble, " said Jack Muscone, "the FBI has some experts that I can make available to help."

"Thanks, Jack." I said. "So let's go talk to Abel Fillmore."

"He's in I-2." said Teresa. "Immediately invoked and demanded to call counsel when we arrested him and found the burner phone in his pants pocket. Also, the DEA agents 'respectfully requested of the Police Commander' that we refrain from questioning him until they get here."

"What law firm did he call?" I asked.

"None." said Teresa. "He called the local chapter of the NAACP." Abel Fillmore was black, so that didn't totally surprise me.

"They'll get him a public defender, I would imagine." I said. "But once his lawyer gets here, I want to ask him a question or two whether or not the DEA arrives... it's not about the drugs."

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

Paul Wicker was brought into Interrogation-1, where his lawyer, the dark-haired bitchy woman, was waiting for him. I'd asked Paulina Patterson to watch from the anteroom as Martin Nash and I entered the room to interview the not-so-good doctor.

"Commander, what is the point?" the woman asked. "My client has invoked. He's not going to talk to you, and I'm going to have him out of here as soon as his hearing comes up tomorrow morning."

"He's going to be facing a slew of new charges, Counselor." I said as I sat down. "And the Feds are probably going to want to take him into their custody. Paul, I'd suggest you reconsider, especially when I tell you some new information: we have arrested Abel Fillmore, and we're going to be offering him a deal to throw you under the bus. On top of that, I'm going to add suspicion of conspiracy to commit murder, which will mean no bail for you at all."

"I didn't kill anyone!" yelled Wicker, his face red. His lawyer yelled at him to keep quiet, then she turned to me and said "All right, what the heck are you talking about?"

"We have a murdered pharmacist named Lockhart." I said. "Known associate of your client. We also have another murder that has links to him, which you'll learn all about at the hearing. Bottom line, Wicker, be prepared for a long, long stay with us... or the Feds."

Paul Wicker's countenance had changed. "Wicker, why don't you talk to your lawyer for a few minutes while we step outside." I motioned for Nash and the uniformed officer in the room to leave with me.

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

"Fillmore's public defender is here." said Teresa when I came into the anteroom. I hurried over to Interrogation-2. Unfortunately, the public defender was not Dexter Epstein, but that didn't matter.

I read Abel Fillmore his considerable legal rights, then said "I've only got one question for you before the DEA gets here. Is this woman a client of your pharmacy?" I held up a photo on my iPhone for Fillmore to look at."

"You can't answer, you've invoked." said the lawyer. Fillmore sat back in his chair.

"So this is not Natasha Norelle?" I asked, showing the picture again.

"Commander, my client has invoked, and I will not allow you to breach that by asking repeated questions trying to trick him into answering." said the lawyer angrily.

"I'm not going to abuse the man's rights, Counselor." I said, then left Interrogation-2. I had what I wanted; Abel Fillmore's eyes had told me what his mouth legally could not...

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

"My client wishes to cooperate with you." said Wicker's lawyer. "But only if he receives full immunity from prosecution in exchange for his truthful answers and testimony."

Just then there was a sharp rap on the mirror, which was the one-way glass with the anteroom. Paulina Patterson opened the door and crooked her finger. I excused myself and went into the anteroom, where Jack Muscone was standing by the window where he could not be seen from the door.

"Don," he said, "I know you have two murders to solve, but we can't give him full immunity unless he cooperates fully with the DEA and FBI, also."

"Jack is right, Don." Paulina said. "We have to inform him fully of his obligations should he revoke."

"Why don't you two come inside, explain it all to him, and let's see what he does." I said, realizing they were right. They came in with me, and I introduced them.

"This is FBI Special Agent Muscone." I said. "If you revoke, you have to answer his questions and cooperate about anything you know regarding the drug trade you're writing prescriptions for."

After exchanging a glance with his lawyer, Wicker nodded. "I agree to that."

"You understand, Mr. Wicker, that in doing so you revoke your Fifth Amendment rights and cannot re-invoke your right to silence?" I asked.

"I've advised him already of the potential consequences." the lawyer said.

"I understand." said Wicker.

"First," I said, "who was the woman who bolted out of your office when the police arrested you?"

"Don't you know?" asked Wicker.

"You're already not answering a question, Wicker." I said severely. "What was her name?"

"Not trying to be flippant, but you arrested her, don't you know her name?" Wicker said.

"One last time, Wicker: what was her name?"


"Natasha Norelle, of course." answered Wicker. I showed him the picture in my iPhone... that of Darla Clifford. "This is her?"

"Yes, it is." said Wicker, looking and acting as if these were children's questions.

"What prescriptions were you writing for her?" I asked.

"Birth control pills." Wicker said. "She wanted to buy them in bulk, so I wrote a year's worth of prescriptions for her at one time."

"Where did she have them filled?" I asked.

"For a long time, she had them filled at Fillmore's Pharmacy." Wicker said. "He was getting them cheap from Mexico. But then his supply got cut off and she had to go somewhere else. I think she went to Smith-Morra. Lockhart supplied several of my clients' prescriptions. I think he got a bulk order in from somewhere in Southeast Asia, maybe South America."

"How did you meet her?" I asked.

"I think one of her girlfriends referred her." Wicker said. "That's how I usually get clients, especially women. I have some men that come in for steroids when they want to do some bodybuilding, but it's mostly these rich bitches."

"You don't remember exactly who referred her?" I asked.

"Oh hell no." said Wicker. "It was a long, long time ago."

"So Lockhart was the pharmacist you sent your customers to?" I asked.

"Not always. I sent most to Abel Fillmore, 75% of them. Then he had supply problems, so Lockhart and some others filled the voids." Wicker named the other two pharmacies, both in the 'not better' regions of Town.

"Do you know a woman named Darla Clifford?" I asked.

"Same woman as Natasha." Wicker said. "I heard your cops calling her by that name. That was the first time I knew she had another alias."

"What about Gloria Searles?"

"Never heard of her."

"Richard Searles?"

"Uh, he's the heart surgeon at University Hospital, I think." said Wicker. "Never met him nor had contact with him."

"Doctors Hartwell, Dembo, Yelena, Muncie? Know any of them?"

"No, can't say that I do." Wicker said.

"Think harder. Dembo." I asked again, severity in my voice.

"No, never heard that name." Wicker insisted.

"All right, Dr. Wicker." I said just as Teresa brought the two DEA agents into the anteroom, knocking on the door. "Thank you for this information. I'll let you talk to the Feds now." I left Teresa, Jack, and the DEA agents to their part of the interrogation."

Part 18 - Discipline and Reverence

"Sir," said Detective Joanne Cummings as she entered my office, "as far as we can tell, there were no drugs stolen from Smith-Morra Pharmacy. None of the prescription bottles were disturbed, except possibly the Viagra bottles. No dust-free places that would suggest a box was missing. Inventory matches the paper and computer records we found."

"Excellent work, Detective Cummings." I said. "Have a seat." Cindy was in the other chair, and we'd been talking about the case. "So, Cummings, what does that tell you?"

"That it wasn't a robbery gone bad. The perps came in with the intent to murder Mr. Lockhart."

"Perps? Plural?" I asked.

"Uh, it could be one person, of course." Joanne said, correcting her slip.

"By the way," Cindy said, "while you were in the interrogation rooms, Rudistan reported that a very old brown car was found in a parking lot in the next strip mall over from Smith-Morra. Lockhart's fingerprints were all over the door handles, so Rudistan authorized entry of the vehicle. A burner phone was found inside, and Myron said it's number called or was called by Natasha's number, Wicker's number, and also the number that called in the tip, which we're calling 'Burner Phone X'.

Cindy continued: "Lockhart's burner was called by 'Burner Phone X' about 11:00pm last night. That may have set up Lockhart to return to his pharmacy, where he was ambushed and killed. Then that same number called in the tip, for whatever reason."

"That's strange." I said. "Now why would the murderer want us to find Lockhart so fast? Oh, wait... I think I understand-"

Just then there was a commotion in my anteroom. "Ladies," I said, "would you please sit on my couch there?" I pointed at my couch, which was sideways to the desk, the far end of it just under the window that looked into the anteroom.

Captain Charles knocked on the door and I waved him in. "Get in here!" he said balefully, ushering four uniformed officers into the room. They lined up side-by-side in front of my desk, Charles standing to the right side of the rightmost officer, half-facing them. "Tell the Commander what you've told me." he barked.

"First," I said, "I am asking these two Detectives to observe for purposes of their training. Do any of you object to this?" None of them objected. "Okay, tell me."

"Sir," said one of them, "we were assigned to watch Smith-Morra Pharmacy last night. We failed to see anyone enter the pharmacy."

"So two of you were on evening shift, and two of you on night shift, changing at midnight, is that right?" I asked.

"Yes sir." came a chorus.

"So what happened that you did not see anyone enter the pharmacy, only to find that a man was found dead inside the next morning?" I asked.

"Sir, we were supposed to both stay awake." said one of the night shift men, "but we took turns taking a nap while the other kept watch. And I was using apps on my cellphone and not paying attention to the building."

"Playing video games." I said. "And you second shift guys?"

"We were talking to each other and on our cellphones, too." said one of the men.

"Captain Charles," I asked, "how forthcoming were they when you asked them about this."

"They admitted it, didn't lie or try to hide anything." said Charles.

"Well, that's good. Okay, gentlemen, I don't know exactly when Lockhart and his killer entered the pharmacy, and it was close enough to shift change that it could have happened then, or when either group was on watch. Bottom line up front, you can see that something happened at the time you were there precisely to observe such things, and possibly could've prevented this. Reprimands will appear on your records. Dismissed."

The four men scrambled to get out of my office. Charles said "I apologize, sir."

"Thanks for finding out what happened, Captain." I said. "You're dismissed." I was formal with Captain Charles only because of the two Detectives watching.

"What did you think of that, ladies?" I asked.

"I'm surprised that reprimands are all they're getting." said Cindy. Joanne nodded in agreement.

"Detective Cummings, what would you have done?" I asked. Joanne was getting some good training and it was really coming at her."

"I... I probably would suspend them, sir." she said, not knowing what else to say. Cindy nodded vigorously; I had no need to ask Crowbar 2 what she'd do.

"Well, I could suspend them... might just yet... but they're fairly good officers apart from this hiccup in their careers. They just learned the hard way, and will either get much better, or will give me reason to suspend them in the future. Last, but not least, I don't know exactly what time the crime occurred, so I really don't know who to bring the crowbar- er, hammer down upon, and I don't want the Police Union whining at me. Ergo, they all get a little note dropped in their files and we move along. Good or good?"

Joanne nodded. Cindy was more skeptical but didn't say anything.

"Well, Lieutenant Ross," I said, "what do you think of this case?"

"It's obvious that Natasha Norelle is Darla Clifford." Cindy said. "At the restaurant, Lockhart really did recognize her, maybe was shocked to see her. But instead of going his own way, he made a scene about it. Who killed Lockhart? Could be anyone associated with this prescription drug ring. But I have no idea how this could be tied to Dr. Searles's murder."

"Don't you?" I asked. "Think about it."

As Cindy's face scrunched into an attempt to figure out what I was getting at, I said "Okay, it's getting late. Joanne, excellent job today. Start consolidating your reports, but don't do it tonight, there's time enough. We'll talk about it in the morning. Cindy, you can stay and watch Teresa and the Feds extract information from Wicker and Fillmore, or you can head home or to your gym and catch up on your business' paperwork... which is what I'd advise."

"I'll get while the getting is good, then." said Cindy. She and Joanne left. I prepared to leave myself. I had a couple of quick things to do on the way home.

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

Having called beforehand, I pulled into the compound of First Baptist Church, which was east-by-northeast of Courthouse Square. The main Church building was a large auditorium that could easily hold 2000 or more people. To the side was an older building that had been the previous church, which also housed the offices.

"Come in, come in." called out Pastor Raymond Westboro as I came into the hallway. I saw the man, tall, lanky, with the beak nose, come out of a well lighted office, then step back into it as I approached.

"How are you, Commander?" asked Westboro as I entered his office. His secretary, a woman in her late thirties, pretty and with blonde hair tightly pulled back and in braids looking like a wreath, sat at a small side table. She was getting voluptuous, but was still very shapely and had nice, curvy legs.

"Fine, Pastor, and how are you?" I said, then said hello to the secretary. "I appreciate you taking a moment to speak with me." I looked around the office. The walls were covered with bookshelves, and the the shelves were filled with books; old books, new books, various Bibles, and other religious and non-religious texts. Pastor Raymond Westboro liked books, I astutely observed.

"No problem at all." said Pastor Westboro. "And your wife and children? I hope they're doing well, also."

"Yes, the kids are growing like weeds." I replied.

"Good, good." said Westboro. "I've seen you at a couple of Council meetings, of course, but we haven't really talked since the day you brought me and Mr. Ikea to meet Jonas Oldeeds. I'd met him before, of course, but Steven was like a kid in front of royalty... and it was such a shame he was right there when Jonas was shot down. I don't think he's gotten over that to this day."

"Yes, it was unfortunate." I said politely.

"Think you'll ever find out who did it?" Westboro asked, his eyes peering at me, seeming to bore through me.

"No, Pastor." I said. "You may recall that my Police Force and the FBI eliminated a rogue CIA ring of assassins. Right now we suspect they may have been behind it, but it's unlikely we'll ever know for sure."

"Unfortunate." said Westboro, his watery blue eyes looking introspective almost by instinct. "Sad to lose Jonas. He and your late father were very close friends, weren't they?"

"Yes, yes they were." I said, not really wanting to talk about Jonas Oldeeds, but needing to be polite in front of this man, who was a Town & County Councilman in addition to being the leader of a large church that served not only the County but the entire northwest region of the State. For some reason, I felt as if the secretary was studying me, and then I realized that Pastor Westboro had kept her in the room, which was not the norm.

"So," said Pastor Westboro, "how can I be of service to you this evening, Commander?"

"I do not want to violate the privacy of your relationship with your flock, Pastor," I said, "but I need to verify something. Were you in the company of John D. Clifford yesterday evening?"

"Oh yes, yes I was." said Westboro. "He and his wife are going through an unfortunate time, as you probably know from your murder investigation. They had a row, and I met him at his room at the University Hotel. I was there from about 8:30 to 11:00pm with him. I can't go into specifics, of course, but our conversation was one of Spiritual matters and how the Lord brings comfort to His flock."

"Yes, I understand." I said, standing up. "I appreciate your time and confirming that for me, and if you'll excuse me, I'll let you get back to your more important matters."

"My time is yours, Commander." said Westboro, shaking my hand. "Come by any time... and I would love to see you and your family at our Sunday morning services."

"Thank you, sir. I'll let myself out. You both have a good evening." With that, I hurried out the door, wondering why all churches and their hallways had that distinctive, peculiar smell to them, which was the same here as almost any church I'd ever been inside of...

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

As I drove home, I got a phone call from Myron. He reported that with the FBI's help, they were able to get a few frames of videotape that showed the killer of the pharmacist Lockhart, including a good one of the perp looking at the computer screen. It looked like a man, dressed in a coat with a high collar, and a ski mask over his head. Myron sent a copy of that image to my cellphone.

As I looked at it, I realized that the ski mask looked funny; the lower part of it around the mouth and jaw seemed to bulge out as if distorted, or as if the guy's jaws were swollen. Surely Lockhart didn't get a blow in that would make the guy swell up that quickly, I thought... then I had the insight and saw the meaning of it. And I knew who the killer of Lockhart was...

Part 19 - Sexual Spirit of the Night

It was midnight, Wednesday becoming Thursday, January 8th. Paul Wicker peeked out of the window of Room 204 of the Sunrise Hotel, seeing the slender form drive up on a motorcycle and park, both of them glad this side of the hotel faced away from the road, and few eyes would be upon them.

She was clad in tight leather pants and jacket that her high-riding breasts pushed against, jutting out. She wore a motorcycle helmet which completely hid any features of her face, and kept the helmet on until she was safely inside Room 204, having been admitted by the handsome, muscular Paul Wicker.

"Good to see you, babe." Wicker said, kissing the woman as she began removing the helmet and then her clothes.

"You too, stud." she said. "We don't have a lot of time. Let's fuck!" She eased herself onto the bed, and Paul Wicker slid onto the hotel bed bedspread next to her, wearing only his underwear. The woman was now wearing just stockings, garter belt and bra, her panties laying somewhere on the floor, and her black-hair-lined pussy was wet with anticipation for Paul's big cock.