The Saint Valentine's Day Murders

"That's true isn't it, Greta? You do not know her name, do you? "

"No, no, I just been callin' her 'mam'." A weak smile.

Devan bends forward, pondering his knuckles for a moment, then says "Ladies, I have given it more thought. I don't think it will be necessary for you to sit through a formal interrogation either, Greta. At least not right now. I will brief the Lieutenant myself and he will get back to you if he needs you to come in. Sound good?"

Quick and mutual consent.

"O.K. But, it is imperative that I be able to reach either or both of you again if the need be. Greta, our office has your home contact details. Mam, please put your phone number in my phone." Handing it to Alyssa. As she plays his game and does so, he play-acts a bit more. "Also, put your full name in there, which Greta does NOT want to hear, but I will need for the record. And don't play any games or you could find yourself on an all-points wanted bulletin." He wasn't sure there even was such a bulletin, but thought is sounded sufficiently official.

She went through the motions of putting her cell number in the phone where it already existed a couple of dozen times. Then Devan did the gentlemanly thing and walked them both out the front door. He chatted with Alyssa while Greta virtually ran to her own car. After she had pulled away, Devan led his shaken spouse to their car.

As soon as she got in he lambasted her. "WHAT THE FUCK WOMAN?!'

She was too scared to cry but whimpered, "I'm so, so sorry Devan. Oh, my God I fucked up so bad."

"Why don't you start telling me something I don't already know."

Deep breaths..."First of all, why was I even in the fucking club on Valentine's Day when you were at work? I have NEVER once EVER gone there without you. Never. But I just guess I was feeling the holiday mood and there you were away all day playing with bad guys and I missed my Valentine SO much. When I talked to you at lunch time you told me you might be late even for dinner together and I simply worked myself into a funk.

I just went stupid I guess, maybe thinking a good stranger fuck would cheer me up. I didn't get one, not until after you got home and made up for lost cock. But meanwhile...."

"Go on." he said, fuming.

"Well, I got there and got a drink and wandered around. I spotted my friend Warren going into that room with a woman on his arm. I thought since he was a familiar fuck buddy, he might be good if he is not tied up for the day. So I followed him in and sat away from him to wait. He didn't notice me, and he was soon fucking the woman that I knew was not as good for him as I would be, so I rubbed my crotch a bit and watched. Then this crazy asshole barges in and shoots the woman Warren was fucking, right smack in her face, and then Warren...Dwayne...and all the others. That will be in my nightmares for the rest of my life.

"Well, I guess you know the rest of it. I went right out after the asshole ran for it and ran in a different direction from this other woman who was in the room. Greta. I felt like the end of the world had fallen in on me. Was that fucker going to find me and shoot me? Was the love of my life going to find me and shoot me? Maybe if I didn't get the hell out of here he would race up in his Homicide squad car with his big ass gun in his hand and just blaze away at all the faithless cunts behind the Green Door."

Despite everything, she knew how to make him chuckle at her dramatics. He couldn't stay mad for much longer with such a wonderful personality. He believed her explanation, and he understood it fully...he hadn't liked being away from her on Valentine's Day either.

He told her that he had a pretty good idea why she had kept him in the dark on this. But he was going to demand a detailed explanation a bit later after he had talked with the Lieutenant. And then he was going to come home to reconcile this shit. He dropped her off at home, with a more or less civil goodbye and headed downtown.

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He figured there was maybe enough time to get to Lieutenant Simpson yet today, so he punched up the boss's cell number after he had rehearsed his lines a few times. After identifying himself at two intermediate phone stations, he finally heard Simpson's deep authoritative voice. "Detective Knight, what can I do for you?"

"I'm glad I caught you sir. I would like to meet with you as soon as possible. It's about a new lead in the Valentine's murder case."

"Well. that's Lewis' case, and he just got off shift. Your boss isn't here either."

"I know, Sir, but I was hoping to be able to talk directly with you. I know that's not usual protocol, but this is obviously a high visibility case and there are some elements to this case that create the potential for a possibly embarrassing situation for Homicide, sir."

"Embarrassing to the whole entire Division, eh? Well, I've never known you to be given to histrionics Knight, so I have to take your request seriously. For now. Should we perhaps meet somewhere outside the headquarters building?"

"Oh, I hadn't even thought about that, sir. Would that be possible? It would maybe be a great idea. The fewer people in the know for now, the better. Until you have a chance to decide how to handle it."

"Knight, I am less than an hour from quitting time right now. Suppose we were to meet over at Whitestone Cocktails, as soon as you could get there? You're buyin' of course."

"Perfect, Sir, I'm 25 or 30 minutes out and I will leave at once."

The Lieutenant asks, sotto voce "Should I wear a disguise do you think?"

More belly laughs than it probably deserved, "O.K boss, I'm on the way." He flipped on the car's flashers. Why not, he had every right not to keep the Lieutenant waiting, plus it was kind of fun when you didn't actually have the pedal all the way to the metal. He Bluetoothed a call to his nervous wife and let her know he was on the way to meet with Simpson. She thanked him with a sigh of partial relief.

He thought to tell her that right after the meeting he was coming home to take her clothes off, but then decided it was better strategy to let her stew in suspense just a little longer.

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He killed the siren about 2 blocks from the Whitestone, so as not to have his dubious use of it be questioned, he was parking just as he saw the Lieutenant's natty uniform disappeared inside. He caught up just as the boss reached a booth and sat down with him. They shook hands and Simpson grinned and asked, "Is this a full pitcher meeting, Knight?"

"I'm pretty sure boss."

The exchange pleasantries while waiting for the beer, mostly about Vegas' amazing expansion Golden Knights hockey team that went all the way to the Stanley Cup their first year in 2018. The Lieutenant remarked that the league had deliberately tightened the rules for protecting established players when they held the expansion draft, the purpose being to make new franchises more competitive sooner. But they were somewhat sorry when a brand-new franchise went virtually all the way in their first year instead of taking 10 years to become viable. At least some of the owners were sorry. Devin knew all this was pretty common local wisdom but nodded his head in enlightened agreement.

"O.K. Detective, so what is it that is about to embarrass our prestigious Section?"

"Sir, it is a kind of long story, a full pitcher's worth, so please hear me out. I am asking for your discretion in all this, subject to your judgement, of course."

Simpson nodded and leaned forward to listen.

"Let me start right out by confessing the awkward part of all this. My wife, Alyssa, and I are silent members of the Green Door club. We know, that is verboten, and I am prepared to take the consequences."

Simpson was quite concerned but resisted the urge to barge in right away.

Devan continued, "Earlier today we went in there in our flimsy disguises. She wears tinted sunglasses and puts her hair in a bun, that is all there is to the disguise. I wear horn rimmed glasses and a well-made fake mustache. Wouldn't fool anyone in a line-up but someone glancing at us from across a dim room wouldn't tumble. Anyway, please skip over that for now; we know we were way out of line.

"A woman comes up to her shortly after we get there and needs to talk to her. Turns out this woman, AND my darling wife were witnesses to her husband's murder! She was no less than Greta Johnston. I believe we already interviewed Mrs. Johnston.

"She doesn't know much that she didn't already tell your guys at that time. But the reason she wanted to talk to Alyssa was she thinks the two of them might be targets for the killer. I think Mrs. J told you about another witness in the room, but she didn't know who it was. She was telling the truth, she didn't know my wife, still doesn't know her name or contact details. But she recognized Alyssa when we came in today and rushed to talk with her."

The Lieutenant couldn't restrain himself any longer, "So, what's new in all this is that our unidentified second witness is found. And what is potentially embarrassing is the little detail that she turns out to be the spouse of one of my Homicide Detectives!" He buries his forehead in his fist and shakes his head. "Oh my God!"

"Yup." Devan shakes his head. "I realize when that comes out, you won't have any choice but to fire me. But I really hope you won't find it necessary to press charges against her."

The Lieutenant looks thoughtful, saying "I can't answer that right now, but I certainly hope to avoid it. I very much like Alyssa based on the few times I got to meet her."

"Here is another angle you may want to consider, boss. The fact that we are both members of the Green Door clientele could make us invaluable as insider resources in the investigation. And the fact that my wife was a witness could play a major role if the perp ever comes back around the club. Think about that."

It was obvious Simpson was already in deep thought. "Hmmm, we do need to think that through before we do anything hasty. Does Alyssa know anything that Johnston didn't already tell us?"

"I don't really know Lieutenant. I haven't had a chance to quiz her, and of course she will be fully available for testimony on any terms you dictate. I very much doubt it. She is a conscientious woman, sir, and smart. If she had witnessed anything that she thought might be useful in the case she would have told me in the first place. I think the only reason she clammed up was her appreciation that my position could be at stake.

"I haven't talked to her privately since I learned all this, but I know what she was thinking. That, if she had told me that she had been in the room, then I would decide at once that it had to be reported and that would get me fired and maybe her arrested. I'm guessing that she didn't feel she had any real intel of use so why ruin her man's career by coming forward."

"Which is exactly what you did do."

"So, what do you think? If you put my punishment on hold for a bit, could we do a service by using our inside contacts to try to identify the killer?"

"It is tempting, Knight. But how exactly do you propose to proceed?"

Devan looks thoughtful, "Well, I would hope to have your suggestions and Sergeant Lewis'. And most especially I would want my wife's complete buy in. After all, it could put her life at risk. I haven't even discussed this with her yet. But I can pretty much guess she will be all in."

"O.K." Simpson pronounced in a decisive tone, "That's enough beer talking. You go back and have a heart to heart with your beautiful spouse. If she buys in, you two make up a punch list of things you might do to stir things up behind the Green Door. Meanwhile, I will sleep on it as well and we will meet up later tomorrow to compare notes."

Feeling a big sigh of relief, however temporary, "I like it, sir, will do. Do you want to brief Lewis, and/or Hogan on this?"

"I think not in the next day or two anyway. For starters let's just keep it between us until we have something more solid. Keep an open line with me, this will be my number one priority."

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Steak and eggs for breakfast. What man doesn't love that? What man doesn't love the woman who just arose, after one of the most harrowing days of her life, to fry that up for himt? With toast!

"Alyssa my love, you are the best thing that ever happened to a man!" She still looked lovely even in her ageing flannel jammies and disheveled hair.

"Good morning honey", she greeted her husband. "Thought I'd better be on my best foot the morning after you found out what a secretive slut your wife has been. I SO, SO apologize Dev."

He walked over to the stove and gave her a tender hug, avoiding the spatula. "Well, are you talking about the dumbest, riskiest, most inconsiderate, and career threatening thing you have ever done in your whole life? That little thing?"

"Ohhh, honey, I was SO conflicted. I know I behaved inexcusably. Did he fire you!?"

"No, not yet anyway. If he does it won't be because of what you did or didn't do, it will be because we both decided together to join that den of iniquity in the first place. Alyssa, we have to talk." He said in an exaggerated funerial tone.

"Oh my God!" she responded in her equally exaggerated fearful voice. "Not that!?"

"Huh, huh, huh he chuckled. NEVER that, my love. Never that, but we need to discuss some serious shit that Simpson and I cooked up last night. And you absolutely have right of refusal with no argument from me.

They each topped up a cup of coffee and moved out to the living room to sit behind the coffee table. Devan outlined the conversation between himself and Lieutenant Simpson in full detail.

"Honey, the plan isn't even fully thought through yet, we will be part of that planning. But any way you slice it, you personally will be at risk, even possibly at risk of your life if things get really crazy." He reached out to pull her into a warm hug.

She firmly wiggled out of his embrace, Devan Knight, don't even insult me by suggesting I wouldn't do whatever I can do to right this wrong and to find the monster that killed Greta's husband. Not to mention my side-line fuck-buddy. Of course, I am all in!"

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Simpson told Sergeant Hogan a very watered-down version of the truth, simply telling him that he was borrowing Devan Knight to temporarily beef up his investigation of the St. Valentine's Day murders and that Knight would be reporting directly to himself for the time being. Simple solution.

Alyssa was put into a 3-day crash survival course in some basic defensive moves. She was handed, and trained in how to use, a 9mm Glock 43 6-1 that the Lieutenant came up with from somewhere. He cautioned her that the origin of that gun was not to be disclosed; if she ever has to use it and account for it, she was to swear she bought it for $500 cash from some seedy looking guy down on 2^nd Street.

She was loaned a small cell phone for use between her and any Homicide people she needed to communicate with, and he gave her a tiny 'spy' camera in a 'fountain pen' for any potentially relevant club scenes she stumbled upon. His devilish side peeked out when he told her to film anything else she thought he might want to see, complete with lecherous grin. Devan later grabbed the pen cam for his own use, explaining that a female with large breasts like hers couldn't accommodate a breast pocket pen anyway. Best that he wears it to constantly record those most excellent mammaries.

They went together to a hole-in-the-wall costuming shop they knew about, to enhance their flimsy 'disguises'. He found a stick-on goatee in about the same brown as his hokey mustache and a more prominent pair of horn-rim spectacles. She found a pair of lady's eye glasses with clear lenses, and a very classy pony-tailed blonde wig that really transforms her appearance.

They debated between themselves as to the wisdom of any disguises at all since the whole point of them being in there was to take advantage of them being known entities around Green Door. The Lieutenant, who seemed very much invested in this whole train of thought, cast the tie-breaking vote by saying she looked hot in the blonde wig and her sex appeal was a potentially winning element in what we were trying to accomplish.

Devan had little choice but to agree, making a mental note to himself not to leave his hot wife alone with the boss for too many minutes at a time. He could watch Alyssa fuck half a dozen strangers at the club without any concern, but her becoming the fuck toy around Homicide would be grounds for...well, whatever! He told her that in those very same words later than evening; she gave a laughing grin at the comment.

The next day they went out to first get a hearty lunch since the Green Door sucks at the culinary arts. Our perennial favorite, the Feast Buffet at Green Valley Ranch, just south of 215, was their obvious choice and far from W. Sahara. They chowed down more than enough calories to hold them all day if needed and got to the club by 1:45.

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Getting past the door security increased their trepidation juices a good bit, and they burst into the club, with no freaking idea what to do next. The plan, such as it deserved the name, was pretty much to wonder all over the place and hope that she might spot the perp, or that he would show his head by recognizing Alyssa. It dawned on him belatedly that the ponytail was not such a clever idea after all, but the dice were cast, at least for today.

They strolled casually around, poking into every nook and side room, trying not to look too much together. They lingered longer in any rooms that housed a number of engaged copulators so she could look more closely at the faces. He had no way to know what other features of those men her eyes may have lingered upon.

They, or at least she, stopped longer to chat up people they recognized. At one point his wife chatted with a couple of young men that he didn't actually know, but he recalled seeing both their faces between her legs from only a couple of weeks prior. She had some difficulty breaking those conversations off, with what seemed like suggestions of "later, later". Devan had a similar run in with a short, busty red head he had fucked on a couple of prior visits and had to emulate Alyssa's brush off. He later admitted he had been more than a little desirous of getting deep within her for just a little while.

They stopped occasionally to refresh their prop 'drinks' which tasted very much like plain 7 up and diet coke, with umbrellas in them. It is almost certain they lingered longer in those rooms where guests were naked and actively getting better acquainted, but no law says even police surveillance has to be all drudgery. He knew his lady was getting aroused, at one point he made sure to fondle Alyssa's muff area to determine the wetness factor. Medium high.

Around about 10:00 they huddled to agree that enough was enough. No discovery today. He suggested that they spend the last couple of hours doing what they would normally do in the club. She didn't reply except to give him her very best smile and a hug around the neck. They wandered together on the hunt, but neither of then ran into their earlier friends. Allyssa then hesitated in front of the notorious "Train Town Room" and aimed a quizzical look in her husband's direction.