Time Flies Ch. 02

"Did you ever figure out what he was doing in Southport?" I asked.

"They're still working on it." said Muscone. "Well, they were until today, when we found out he's dead. The Mob figures he met are believed to be involved in money laundering for Orrin B. Taggart, so Crenshaw was speculating that Fisher was doing something involving drug money that needed laundering."

I nodded, then said "Wouldn't surprise me. And they should keep looking into it. This guy coming over all dead like this might be a cluuuuuue that they were on to something."

Dwight Stevens asked: "You think what happened to him up here is related to the Southport Mob?"

"Oh, it's way too early to know that." I said. "We're just getting started in our investigation of the murder. And I do appreciate you guys coming in, as this information is very helpful to me understanding who our murder victim is. I do have one question: when Merkle attempted to flip Fisher, did the DEA create a backstop for him?"

"Not that I know of." said Dwight Stevens. "That was all Merkle, but only Merkle. If he created a backstop for Fisher, he didn't tell anyone else."

"Anything you've found out that you can share with us?" Muscone asked, and I knew he was asking for Stevens's benefit. And I was trying to decide just how much I should tell the Federal Agents about what we had learned about Fisher, a.k.a. Bellows.

"We're starting to piece together a few things." I said. "Here, let me make an arrangement for you."

I picked up my Police iPhone and speed-dialed Tanya's number. "Hey, I've got you on speaker." I said when she answered. "I've got some guy in here that claims he knows you. Says his name is Muscone."

"Don't let him get away!" said Tanya's voice on the speaker. "He has someplace to be on March 28th!"

"Don't worry, it's my job to deliver him there, tied up if need be." I said, taking my role of 'Best Man' seriously. "Okay, we've got the DEA's Dwight Stevens here, too. Tell everyone to get what they can by 1:00pm, then we'll have another meeting that will include these Federal guys."

"Wilco." Tanya said.

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

I spent the morning gathering data, including accessing the SBI's files on what their old NTF units had on Fisher/Bellows. I was not all that surprised to find that they had absolutely nothing on the guy.

At 11:30am I headed to the Cop Bar for the lunch meeting. In addition to Muscone and Stevens, Tanya Perlman came, as did FBI ASAC Karina White. And I was introduced to a DEA Agent in his early 30s but looked younger, with red hair and a clean-cut but rather mean, sinister face, Fred Merkle.

I tried hard to conceal that I was a bit nonplussed at Merkle's presence; after all, I did not know him, and wasn't sure I wanted to trust him... especially as he had not been introduced to my methods of working, as Dwight Stevens had rather roughly been. (Author' note: 'Schoolhouse Rock', Ch. 06-07.)

We sat down in the 'Command Room' in back to have some privacy as we talked. After we ordered, Dwight Stevens started up the conversation: "So this guy was leading a double life?"

"Maybe." I said. "We're still gathering information, but it looks to me like he created a second identity and is living that life with the first identity merely as a fallback."

"What's the difference?" Fred Merkle asked, and was rewarded with several dark looks in his specific direction. "I mean, two identities is living a double life, isn't it?" he persisted, though a bit more shakily.

"We can, and should, make some points of distinction." I said. "When you say 'a double life' (air quotes), my idea of that is the guy is leading two full lives in two places, going back and forth between them. In this case, he had a life in Southport for years, but didn't even have the Fisher identity, not that I've heard of, anyway. And then he created the Fisher identity and has pretty much lived it up here, though he visits his home in Southport from time to time, possibly just to relax or decompress."

"I understand that." said Jack Muscone, before Merkle could reply. "We'll need to dig further to see what he was doing these past few years. But the one thing we need to do is let these TCPD guys do their jobs and work the murder case, and stay out of their way."

"But time is of the essence for us too, sir." said Merkle. "We've been working drug angles related to this guy for some time. His murder could cause problems for our operations."

"We get that." I said diplomatically. "And speaking of that, what can you tell us about your dealings with Fisher?"

Merkle seemed to have been expecting the question. He said "All I can really tell you is that we were watching him for a while, but never could get anything on him. And then he was pulled over in the City, and they found $28,000 in his car. He said it was legitimate money from investments, but wouldn't say any more about it. So the SBI-NTF came in and seized it under Asset Forfeiture laws, claiming it was drug money."

Merkle: "Fisher was fighting that in the Courts, but the State just dragged it along, so the legal battles had to be getting expensive for him. In fact, I'd say his legal bills probably exceed the original amount by now. Anyway, I got permission to take a run at flipping Fisher."

Merkle: "I met him, told him straight up that I was with the DEA, and I'd help him get his money back from the State if he'd help us land some bad guys that we knew he'd been dealing with. He agreed, but never gave us a thing, all the while asking when we were going to get him his money. I finally just walked away from it."

"And it was the SBI-NTF that seized the money?" I asked. "For sure? Did they keep any records of it?"

"I don't know." said Merkle. "I got what I know from Court records of the lawsuit Fisher filed."

Karina White asked "Why was he fighting so hard to get that money back? He had plenty of money from his Southport financial businesses, didn't he?" She'd just slipped and revealed some of what the Feds knew, and Muscone did not succeed in hiding his dismay that she'd revealed it.

I replied "I'm not Elitist rich, but I'm fortunate to not be poor, either. And if the State took $28,000 from me without reason nor due process, I'd fight like hell to get it back, too, even if I didn't need it, and no matter how much it cost me. Just on principle."

"Even so, Mr. Merkle," I continued, "I'm shocked the guy agreed to work with you at all. He's been fighting the seizure in the Courts, and apparently wanted a public judgement on it. He also was clean enough to never give you anything to lay a glove on him with, so why would he willing say he could be an effective C.I. and give you any information? Don't get me wrong; it wasn't wrong of you to try. But he was playing you, maybe to get his money from the State, and he never intended to give you a thing."

Merkle nodded as if in resignation of the point, and took a few bites of food to avoid my gaze and further conversation with me.

"Was he working for or with anyone else?" Tanya asked. "In the DEA, FBI, anywhere? Don is going to whoop me for theorizing without data, but this whole 'Fisher' identity could've been some sort of undercover role for the Government. A lot of his actions fit into that narrative. And maybe he was working for the State, though why they'd seize his money like that and keep it, I don't know."

"You're as smart as you are beautiful." Jack Muscone said.

"Awwww." said Tanya and Karina together, and Tanya leaned her head on Jack's shoulder for a moment. In the meantime, I had noticed some discomfiture in Stevens's and Merkle's faces.

"Those are good thoughts, Tanya." I said. "And Jack is right about you, of course. Having said that, we need more facts to either prove or disprove the theory. I do have one question for you, Mr. Merkle... did you or anyone you know of create a backstop for Fisher?"

"No sir." Merkle said simply.

Our food came, and we spent a while eating and not talking shop. As we were finishing, Tanya got a text. "Everyone's ready for the meeting. They've dug up some stuff on Fisher's spending habits, like you wanted, Commander. and a whole lot more..."

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

1:00pm, Thursday, January 9th. Back in Classroom 'E' after finishing lunch, I introduced the Federal Agents to everyone, and told them to get to know Lieutenant Rudistan, as he was going to become their point of contact for all things Vice-related going forward.

"All right, whaddya got?" Tanya Perlman asked, imitating me.

"Chris?" said Lt. Mary Milton.

"Thank you, ma'am." said Christopher Purvis. "First, sir, how much do our Federal friends know about Fisher's life?"

"They know of his double identity." I said. "So don't hold anything back."

"Thank you, sir." said Purvis. "I went back as far as I could to get Bellows's credit card records, as well as credit accounts of his businesses. He itemized extensively on his tax returns, so I was able to get that he had several suits made at a tailor shop in Southport that was frequented by Jimmy Cerone as well as top men of the Orrin B. Taggart operation. The tailor is just an old guy that's been in business 40 years, and makes the best suits in the State. He's clean and honest, as far as we can tell."

Purvis: "But after Bellows became Fisher, he never went back to that tailor shop. And we have no financial records for Fisher. He must've been cash all the way; he didn't even buy gasoline with a card, ever."

"Interesting." I said. "Go ahead and tell us about the apartment." I said.

Theo said "Parker and I went in with Joan Laurer. We had a video technician recording us, and brought in our drug dog Sergeant Tango to search for drugs. Tango didn't find anything; the place was clean. We still have techs using sonar to see if they can find any hidden caches of cash. And by the way, the Taurus that was found yesterday... no drugs, nothing hidden inside it at all."

Theo: "Inside his apartment there was a chess set and a copy of Chess Life magazine on the table, and that was pretty much it for periodicals. There was a television set with an antenna and converter box; no cable or satellite. No bills filed away, no pay stubs, no papers of any kind. In his closet was one well-made gray suit, one button down shirt, and a tie. The rest of his clothes were work clothes, and apologies for the stereotyping, but they were what I'd expect low-wage laborers to wear."

I nodded. "That's good. Thanks."

Tanya said "Did you visit the University Sanitation Department?"

Theo said "Yes, we sure did. Parker and I went. And we started being stonewalled immediately. They told us the Manager wasn't there, then they sent us to one person, who said she was the wrong person to talk to, and the next person said the same thing. So I finally name-dropped and said loudly that maybe we needed to have Commander Troy call President Wellman as well as Mrs. Myrtle L. James, who is a Regent of the University."

"Did it work?"

"Only in that one guy finally said he would help us if he could." Theo replied. "And then the Manager magically appeared and told that employee to not say a word to us without a Union rep or lawyer present. And he was screaming. I told him to calm down and he put his finger in my face and told me to produce a warrant or get out."

"And you didn't arrest him?" I asked.

"No sir." said Theo. "The others had their cellphones out and were recording it. We also were on Campus, and there are jurisdictional issues."

"That's true." I said. "Soooo, since you dropped my name, I'll just have to go in there and pick it up. And while I believe we legally could bring TCPD Officers, I'll just nip that problem in the bud with a quick call to Our Sheriff..."

Part 10 - Takedowns

2:10pm, Thursday, January 9th. Dressed in civilian clothes and with my trenchcoat and khaki Tilley Hat on, I went into the office of the University Sanitation Department. With me was Theo Washington and Teddy Parker... and four Deputy Sheriffs, including two females.

Parker pointed at an empty desk. "The guy was right there." he said.

Just then, we heard someone say loudly "What? Again?", followed by the appearance of a tall, heavy-set man, with red hair that was almost as light as mine, but more 'naturally curly' than mine, fer sure. "What the hell are you doing in here? Where's your warrant?"

"Right here." I said, holding up the folded document. "I am SBI Inspector Donald Troy, and this is a warrant to search your premises, collect and keep any and all of your records, and bring in anyone we consider a suspect for further questioning."

"You have no jurisdiction here!" yelled the man.

"Ears are to hear with." I said squaring up to him. "I'm with the SBI, which has jurisdiction over this Campus. And the Sheriff and his Deputies have jurisdiction over every inch of this County. Every single inch. Now where is the man who was sitting here earlier today?"

"You listen up, prick." snarled the man. "You will not speak to anyone without a lawyer present."

"Fine." I said. "We'll take them to County Jail, under arrest, and they can call their lawyers from there. Now where is that man?"

"You can go to hell." said the man.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"FUCK you." said the man.

"Well, Mr. Fuck You, you're under arrest." I said. "For obstruction of justice, interfering with a Police investigation, and FFI because you did not identify yourself when I asked you to. Cuff him."

As Deputies moved to handcuff the man, he pushed out of their grasp and tried to push them off. I moved towards him and he tried to throw a punch.

*WHAM!*

He would not do well in the Police Boxing Matches, I surmised as I slammed him face-down onto the floor with a move so fast that most people didn't even realize it had happened. I started pulling his arm behind his back, saying "Put your arms behind you... PUT YOUR ARMS BEHIND YOU!" When the man continued to struggle, I punched him on the side of his head, boxing his ear, as hard as I could. "I can do this all day." I said, punching him again. With the help of Deputies, we finally got him cuffed.

"HEY!" yelled one of the female Deputies, rushing up to a woman employee in the back corner, who was trying to film the arrest on her cellphone. "Give me that!"

"NO!" yelled the woman. "I'm recording your Police brutality!"

I swiftly came up to them. "You know it's illegal to record Police like that." I said. "Give me the phone."

"No!" the woman said. "I'm giving this to the Press!"

I looked on her desk. "These your kids? I'm going to have DFACS take them from you. Put them in foster homes, where they'll be getting raped every night while you're in prison. Yeah, your kids, getting raped every night, because you're so fucking stupid. And if you think I won't hit a woman, and so hard that I break your jaw with one punch, think again. Now gimme it!"

I took the phone from the woman's hand, put it on her desk, and used my red crowbar to smash the cellphone into a lot of tiny pieces. "Place her under arrest." I said to the female Deputy, who was enjoying the spectacle...

"I'm calling the Police!" said another woman.

"Go for it!" I said. "Ohhh, that's rii-ight! Your boss there said the TCPD has no jurisdiction... well, I think they do, so if you want to call, tell them that Commander Troy was here... making arrests." The woman shut up.

As I followed everyone out the door with our two prisoners, I said "By the way, after all is said and done, the more you cooperate, the less will be done to make sure you all get fired."

And if anyone else had tried to secretly record that... they got the full 'Slender Man' effect on their phones... and maybe the static stripes were in crimson and white, dontcha know...

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

I came into Interrogation-1 at County Jail. The manager's name was James Hamm, and he was being represented by H.J. Lynch of Chase, Lynch & Berry, P.C. His hands were cuffed to the ring in the table.

In a conference room was George Knowles, the employee that had been 'helpful' earlier. He had been picked up at his home, and he looked frightened out of his wits. He was not under arrest, and had not yet asked for legal representation. He was making his statement to Parker and Washington, including that his boss had ordered him home and had ordered him to not talk to Police at all, not even with Union representation or a lawyer present.

In I-2 was Patricia Ghillie, not related to the 'McGhillie' family. She was stunned that we really intended to charge her and have DFACS take her kids away, so she quickly agreed to procure all the information in the Sanitation Department servers in exchange for us 'forgetting' about her criminal attempt to record the arrest of the Manager.

I sat down opposite Hamm at the table. "So Mr. Hamm," I said, "Mr. Knowles is making a full statement to us now, including how you obstructed justice by ordering him to not talk to us at all, much less with a lawyer. So your ass is toasty grass, and will belong to the prison system for the next ten years without hope for parole."

"Stop intimidating my client." said H.J. Lynch. I found it odd that he didn't have his normal fiery passion fueled by his hatred of the Police, and especially me, and I idly wondered why.

"Hmmphf!" I snorted. "I don't need to intimidate him. I have him stone cold. And we're getting the pay data now. Why did you keep Carl Fisher on the payroll doing nothing for all these years?"

Hamm was staring at me. I just looked back at him with a look that said 'I'll win the blink game, too'. But he was unfazed, and I didn't have that kind of time.

"Either answer my question, or take the Fifth." I said. "The charges are mounting, adding up. And at the end of the day, you'll be charged with murder, or at least accessory to murder."

"For God's sake, stop with your bluffing and intimidation!" said Lynch. THERE was the Lynch we know and love! I thought to myself.

"I just have two things to say." said Hamm. "First, you can go straight to Hell, Troy. Second, I'm invoking my Fifth Amendment Rights. I'm not speaking any further to you..."

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

"Commander, my office." said Sheriff Griswold after I came out of the Interrogation Room. I followed him to his office in the County Jail's office complex, which was next to the Warden's office. The Sheriff's office here was smaller than his office in City Hall, and was about the size of mine at Police Headquarters.

I knew I was in trouble, so I did not sit down, and I took my asschewing. "Commander," the Sheriff said, "what in the world was that over-display of Alpha-male games today?"

"The perp resisted arrest and threw a punch at me, and I took him down." I said.

"And that little exhibition of your crowbar smashing a Citizen's cell phone to bits?" the Sheriff asked. "That wasn't one of Bettina's cameras, you know."

"Yes sir." I said. "One of your Deputies saw her trying to record the arrest and went after her. The woman resisted and would not give up the cellphone, so I made the point to not only take it, but to destroy it right there in front of her and everyone. We'll have to let the woman go, of course, but I made my point. By the way, who was that Deputy?"

"That was Deputy Anya Krush," said the Sheriff, "and she would be a solid addition to the TCPD's so-called 'Takedown Team'. She's a Russian émigré, came to America when she was two years old. And she might be the only person in this County who can whip young Timmy Austin at chess... since you sure can't." I knew the Sheriff was needling me, there.

"No sir, I can't." I said. "And yes, I can see a bright future for Deputy Krush if and when we have to go on Campus and be 'active', or maybe anywhere in this County."