The Swap Ch. 02

"Let me just say this, on background, friend to friend." Colby said, his voice as low and quiet as he could get it. "There's an election for Sheriff next year, and certain 'unfavorable' elements intend to run for the post, and they have some strong support on the Council and with the Regents. If they win, Griswold is finished, you probably are, too, and God knows how corrupt the Police Force might become. As I see it, you've got about one year to get the Police Department cleaned out."

"Anything you can tell me, any guidance?" I asked.


"Nope, that's why you're here. I wish I did know, so I could help you with it. But it's you that have the digging tools, and you're going to have to dig deep to root this one out. We're confident you can get it done... as long as you don't keep getting shot, of course."

"I hear ya on that." I answered.

"And while I'm at it." Colby said. "I want you to consider running for Sheriff yourself."

"Yikes." I said. "I'm happy right where I am. I don't want the top paper-pusher job, at least not for a couple of decades."

"Then get crackin' on rooting out the bad seed in the Department." Colby said. "We are counting on you."

At that moment, my cellphone rang. It was Martin Nash, asking if I could stop by DynaCorp's headquarters.

"Speaking of getting cracking, I've got two murders to solve. Seems the DynaCorp lawyers are not letting my investigators talk to anyone nor look at files. If you'll excuse me..." I said, getting up.

"Let's go over there." Jack Colby said. "I'll take care of that asshole."

-------

"I am telling you to cooperate with these officers." Jack Colby said. I just listened, my crowbar in my hands. I'd brought it inside, knowing I might have need of it.

"They have to have a warrant, Mr. Colby," said the in-house counsel, some young jerk about my age named Sommes. I wondered if he was related to the "Sommes" firm of that jerk Worthingdon the Third that had represented Elizabeth when Ned was first arrested.

"And I don't give a damn if you're a Board member. Unless you're the CEO, I refuse to allow anyone to talk to the police, nor can they see our papers without a warrant.

"It's okay, Mr. Colby." I said, just as Jack Colby was about to get physical with the legal beagle. "I'm on the phone with the ADA now. What's that you say, Ms. Patterson?... We have probable cause now because the CEO is dead?.... and the warrant is being faxed to Headquarters now to seize all files and papers? Thank you!"

"Hugh, Martin, start seizing the files now." I instructed. "Lock down the building; no one leaves without being interviewed. Call Headquarters, tell a Sergeant to bring the warrant and at least 25 uniformed officers. I'm going to crawl so far up DynaCorp's butt this morning, they'll be shitting police blue for a week."

"You can't touch a God-damn thing without a warrant in my hand first." roared the lawyer, of whom I'd had enough.

"Mr. Colby, let's discuss this with the lawyer in this room here." I said, indicating a very small office nearby.

"No problem." Mr. Colby said.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" the lawyer shouted as I grabbed him and shoved him violently into the room. Jack Colby slammed the door behind us, with only the three of us in the room.

"Fuck you, you piece of dog shit." I said. "I don't think you understand the situation. The CEO of this company is dead, and I'm not going to let a piss-ant piece of dogshit lawyer tell me I can't do my job."

"You son of a bitch!" the lawyer roared, trying to get past me and outside. "I'll have your fucking badge for this! I'm going to sue you to death!"

The crowbar flashed as I swung it for Sommes's midsection and it solidly connected. Then I pushed the bastard backwards, slamming him into the wall. Attacking him fiercely, I drove my fist into his solar plexus again, then as he doubled over I drove my knee up hard into his ribs. When he collapsed to his knees, I delivered a short but hard blow with the crowbar between his shoulder blades, enough to collapse him but not hurt him as badly as I tried to hurt Sergei Molotov. Then I put my foot on the back of his neck when he was lying on the floor.

"You go ahead and sue, dipshit." I said. "Mr. Colby here is a witness that will testify that I didn't touch you. Who's a jury of good citizens in this County going to believe, dipshit? A good, upstanding rancher and citizen of the County, and a Councilman? Or a slimy piece of dog excrement lawyer whose daddy's company chases ambulances and defends the slimiest criminals in our custody? Huh?"

"That's right." said Mr. Colby. "The police officer didn't touch you."

"Now you stay in this room, dipshit," I ordered, "and if you come out before I tell you to, I'll break your fucking skull with this crowbar, you hear? Or better yet, I'll arrest you for obstruction of justice and put you in the holding cells with some of the County's most hardened criminals, the one's your daddy's firm has been fucking over all these years."

Sommes said nothing. We exited the room.

"Thank you, Mr. Colby." I said. I was totally in his power and debt, but that was okay; if I had not beaten the shit out of Sommes, Colby would have... and it wouldn't be the first time Colby had solved a problem with sheer physical power, I knew.

"You're quite welcome. I loved it." Colby replied, saying he'd stay and make sure the lawyer remained imprisoned in the little room until we were done.

I went to Mr. Warner's office, where Hugh and Martin were with a lovely woman.

"Lieutenant, this is Ms. Gayle Roberts, Mr. Warner's administrative assistant." Hugh said, introducing me to her as well. "She asked to speak to you specifically."

"I'm glad she did." I said, trying to put on my most charming voice. "Hello, Ms. Roberts" I said, very charmed myself. As I shook her hand I made sure to take it in mine and slightly pull her towards me. I had felt a connection with Gayle Roberts immediately as our eyes locked. She had light brown or dirty blonde hair, short and in a mane of tight curls. She was nearing 40, I guessed, but was still extremely attractive, her jaw angling sharply into a dimpled chin, her eyes warm and inviting, her mouth rather small but luscious.

"It's an honor to meet you, and call me Gayle, please." she said.


"Thank you, and please call me Don." I said. "Let's sit here on the couch and talk a moment. Hugh, Martin, go make a special effort to meet Mr. Jack Colby out in the main hallway. He's a County Councilman, someone you should get to know." They left.

As we sat down, I noticed and admired Gayle's figure: a very nice hourglass shape, saucy ass and drop-dead gorgeous legs. She was wearing a black dress, mourning the death of her boss, sheer stockings and very high-heel black Louboutin pumps. She made sure to show off her legs as we sat and talk, her body language and her eyes very flirtatious with me.

I knew in my soul that one day soon I was going to fuck this woman. But for now I had to concentrate on the task at hand. I interviewed her, giving the details here for the sake of brevity:

Ms. Roberts had enjoyed working for Mr. Warner. He could be demanding and the hours long, but he paid her very well and gave her time to spend with her young daughter and always bought the daughter birthday and Christmas presents. No, she had never been married, she said. She did not know of anyone who hated Mr. Warner enough to kill him, though many of his business deals had been rough-and-tumble, cutthroat with winners and losers instead of win-win situations.

As far as Gayle Roberts knew, Mr. Warner's family relationships were fine, though he'd become increasingly unhappy with his sister Katherine's work in the Marketing Department the last few months. She would've been willing to have sex with Mr. Warner, but he never came onto her, Ms. Roberts, nor initiated sexual contact with her or anyone else. He was pretty straightlaced, didn't drink or smoke, and worked hard at his businesses.

"Thank you, Gayle." I said, getting up to go.

"My pleasure, Don." she replied. "And I'll see you at your party tonight."

"Oh!-- are you coming?" I said.

"Oh yes, Dr. Fredricson is a friend of mine, and she recently me to come work for her when her previous assistant moved to Washington, D.C. I wasn't going to accept, as I was very happy working here for Anthony..." Her eyes welled up with tears.

"I understand, and I'm sorry about what has happened. As to Dr. Fredricson, I hope you'll accept her offer." I said. "And I look forward to seeing you tonight, as well."

-----------------------------

My officers spent the entire morning interviewing everyone, and the bottom line was essentially the same story, though the manager of the finance department said that he thought Warner and Board Vice Chair Willoughby didn't get along very well.

"Martin, what did you find out from the books?" I asked when I saw him again. Jack Colby had come with him to Mr. Warner's office. My search had revealed nothing. Hugh was "babysitting" the lawyer... and I suspected the lawyer might find out that I'm a wimp compared to the war veteran when it comes to taking shit from dirtbags.

"I looked at Mr. Warner's appointment book over the last several months, as you asked me to in the email." Martin said. "We collected the book with the other materials when the warrant was issued. One thing I noticed is that over the last two months, he's had several appointments with lawyers, not his in-house counsel but outside lawyers."

"I don't blame him; his in-house counsel is dog shit. What were the names of the firms?"

"Lowe, Ball & Lynch was one; and Effim, Goode & Hart was the other.

"Lowball & Lynch deals with businesses, acquisitions, split-ups, etc." I said. "And F'em Good and Hard is the Town's prominent men's divorce law firm, the arch-rival of the new Women's Law Firm of Dewey, Cheatham and Howe.... hmm, that's very interesting. Did you guys get anything else from the staff people that worked closely with him every day?"

"Only that Anthony Warner thought business was slipping and was really pushing everyone hard. They thought he had a lot on his mind but didn't understand why, as business was just fine."

Upon leaving, we collected Hugh. "I hope you didn't leave a mark on the guy." I said.

"I didn't, but he puked up his breakfast." Hugh said.

Part 9 - Air-tight Alibis

"It was such a nice event." Myrtle L. James said quietly as we sat at a table in the Ladies Auxiliary Fellowship Hall. "Beatrice York has done so much for the community, and it was such a thrill to be able to honor her last night. We had--"

Detective Martin Nash and I endured Mrs. James's soliloquy. I had warned him in advance to be extremely polite to the elderly lady, knowing this would be a test of our patience. I had introduced him to her, hoping he would begin to cultivate political allies, and Nash was quietly charming with the old lady -- who happened to be a very powerful University Regent.

When she finally paused, we were able to ask a question. "Were Mrs. Warner and Mrs. Wilson at the event?" Nash asked.

"Yes, they were here. Very charming ladies, especially Katherine Wilson, she's very lovely." Myrtle James said. "Karla Warner is a very... strong woman, though nice enough. I really think Ms. Wilson would've been lost after her divorce if it were not for her sister-in-law's strength. That was quite a bad time for her--"

We endured another few moments of inconsequential talk before I began to assert myself.

"Mrs. James, can you tell us if you remember the ladies being here from about 9:50 to 10:30?"

"Let me see... I remember seeing them in the greeting line and being seated for dinner. The presentation and Mrs. York's remarks went to about ten o'clock. I was at the head table on stage, but I assume they were in the audience." That wasn't much, I thought, but Mrs. James was not finished.

"But I can tell you this, very accurately: just moments after the presentation ended, maybe at five to ten minutes past ten, Mrs. Warner came out of the restroom and crashed right into a waiter carrying a tray of water pitchers. Of course it was an accident, but the poor lady was just so embarrassed, her face was red and she was so frazzled about it. We all looked over at her, and Katherine Wilson rushed right over to her from her seat in the audience. Some of the other ladies also went over to help. So embarrassing... and then to find out just a short time later that her husband was dead... how very sad." Mrs. James's eyes stared out as she became introspective.

"And this was at 10:05, you said?" I asked, attempting to pin the time down.

"Very close to it. As you know, I try to keep a tight timetable at these meetings. My late husband worked for the railroad, you know, and I'm afraid his promptness wore off on me." Myrtle L. James replied.

"That is very helpful." I said. "Just one more question and we'll stop taking up your valuable time: did Mrs. Warner get a lot of water on her dress when she ran into the waiter?"

"Not that I could see." said Mrs. James, looking surprised at the question... as did Detective Nash. "She might have gotten a little bit, but she ran into the boy's left side and the tray, and the pitchers flew off to the right, so I don't think either of them got very wet."

"Thank you so much, Mrs. James." I said. We made our goodbyes and left hastily before Mrs. James thought of another story to tell us.

"Why were you interested in whether or not Mrs. Warner's dress got wet?" Martin asked.

"Just a passing thought." I replied. "What do you think?"

"It looks like those women have alibis." Martin Nash said. "It couldn't have been better timed when Mrs. Warner ran into that waiter. Of course, I guess they could have twins like that Arruzio case you solved."

"Always possible, but I doubt we'd be so lucky." I said. "Okay, Martin, social introductions with Mrs. James, Mr. Colby and the power-players are over. Meet up with Hugh Hewitt, find out where Martin's kids are, and interview them for their whereabouts. Do it as a team, don't split up. They're probably at home with their mother; don't let the mother be present when talking to them."

"On my way."

-----------------------------

"Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Ward." Detective Cindy Ross said. She was actually wearing plainclothes, a white blouse sleeveless blouse that showed off her strong arms, a gray skirt and mid-heel black pumps, showing off her still-muscular but shapely legs. Detective Teresa Croyle was with her, dressed in an off-white dress and high heel sandals, her legs looking smoking hot. They were at the Ward Harvester plant to confirm Mr. Schelle's presence there the night before.

"So that Detective of yours that blew up my warehouse didn't come?" Ward said sourly, clearly not happy to be talking to the police, however attractive the women were. Both detectives frowned.

"Mr. Ward, our Detective almost lost his life rescuing three children that were being held hostage in your warehouse." Cindy Ross said, her indignation showing clearly. "Perhaps we should inquire why the criminals thought they were safe in using your property?"


"All I know is that I'm having to rebuild my warehouse because your SWAT team came charging in and started a fire." Ward said, holding his ground.

"Mr. Ward, the Town & County Police don't even have a SWAT Team." Teresa Croyle said. "As you found out when you unsuccessfully tried to sue the Public Safety Department."

"Good thing your detective sent you women instead of coming himself. I wouldn't say a word to him." Mr. Ward replied.

"What have you got against him?" Cindy said, her eyes boring hard into the man.

Ward turned and returned her stare, looking hard into her eyes. "Marie Arruzio was my sister, and your detective's college roommate was having sexual intercourse with her when she took a shotgun blast to her face from her husband who was driven mad by her cheating. Your de-tec-tive has been nothing but trouble and cost for me since he came to Town. I can't stand the sound of his name, and quite frankly ladies, I regret that he did not die in the explosion of my warehouse."

Teresa Croyle interjected, mostly in order to keep Cindy Ross from perpetrating another crime on this particular property. "We're not here about that, Mr. Ward. We'd like to ask you some questions about last night, if we can put the past behind us?"

"Okay, what do you want?" Ward said, sour as ever. He was not a strong man, Cindy Ross noted, but he sure had hostility for Don, and Cindy couldn't understand why.

"We understand you had a meeting with Mr. Robert Schelle last night?" Cindy said.

"Yes, he was part of the group we met with." Ward said. "He was brought in as a consultant by the company that will be installing new CNC machines in the new building."

"When did the meeting start and end?" Teresa asked.

"It began at 7:30." Ward said. "I left at 8:20 or so, so I don't know what time they finished. My project manager, Mr. Burleson, was with them."

"Can we see him now?" Teresa asked.

"I'll call him up here." Mr. Ward said, picking up the telephone and issuing instructions for Mr. Burleson to come to his office. Within moment a large, bearded heavy-set man came to the door.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Ward?" he asked, his eyes on the women's legs.

"Yes, Tom, these women are with the police."

"What can I do for you?" Burleson asked.

"Have a seat, please." Cindy said, directing him to the sofa to her right. "You were in a meeting with Robert Schelle last night?"

"Yeah, he was part of the group I was meeting with. CNC Solutions is the company name. Bill Conlan is the head guy, and he'd brought in Schelle."


"What time was the meeting? When did it end?"


"Started at, oh, 7:30 or so." Burleson said.

"Finished up about 10:00."

"And Mr. Schelle was here until that time?"

"Well, let me rephrase." Burleson said. "The meeting was wrapping up about 9:45 and we were just shooting the bull as we put up the architectural plans and papers and stuff. Schelle said he had to leave and headed on out, that was about 9:45 to 9:50 or so. I talked with Conlan until 10:00 and we walked out together."

"I see." said Cindy Ross. "So to clarify, Schelle was definitely here until 9:45."

"Yeah, I'd say that's about right. By the way, you mind telling me what this is about?"

"In a moment." Cindy said. "Just one more question: how was Mr. Schelle acting last night? Anything unusual? Mr. Ward, did you notice anything?"

"No." said Ward. "Nothing struck me."

"Me neither." said Burleson.

"Thank you both." Cindy said. "We're just verifying Mr. Schelle's whereabouts. His wife was killed in a hot tub accident last night."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that on the radio." Burleson said. "Poor guy."

"Why do you say that?" Cindy asked, as if idly curious.

"I heard some rumors that he's had trouble keeping clients in this economy." Burleson said. "And now his wife passes away? Gotta be tough for the guy."

---------------------------

"Well, that's that." Cindy said to me in the MCD room at 11:30am. They'd just interviewed Bill Conlan. "Conlan was sure it was almost 9:50 when Schelle left the meeting. That means that Robert Schelle is in the clear as far as being the killer on the scene of his wife's death."

"We did learn one thing, though." Teresa said. "Conlan said that the quality of Schelle's work had been dropping the last 4 months or so, and that he, Conlan, was considering dropping Schelle from any new jobs that came in."

"I know how much you hate alibis, Don," Cindy said. "But this one looks pretty strong."

"Yeah," Teresa said. "He looks guilty as hell in every other aspect, including that second plug-in. He's an electrical engineer, he could easily have done that. Blatantly obvious... except that there were eyeballs on him when his wife got fried."