Town & County Confidential Ch. 01

This story is part of an ongoing series. The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racism, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

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This story is written for the 'Hammered - an Ode to Mickey Spillane' challenge. It is based upon the characters in my 'Iron Crowbar' Detective series. Please read 'Film Noir' for more on Russ Ferrament.

Part 1 - Prologue - Russ Ferrament

The morning light filtered through the slats of the blinds over the window of my office on Riverside Drive as I walked into it. I didn't choose this life, it chose me. And all I have to compensate for it is my flask of bourbon, a powerful handgun, and a red crowbar. Yes, that's me, Russ Ferrament. I'm a local cop on the beat.

6:00am, Wednesday, October 7th. I came into Police Headquarters, having gotten up an hour earlier and worked out at home before cleaning up and driving in. It was a busy time in my Town & County. The Elections were coming up in November. College football season had started, and we had a major University right here next to Town. And criminals were not taking the season off, unfortunately.

I checked in with the Duty Desk. The 3rd Shift Officers gave me the rundown: there had been an armed robbery at the 'Mercado Rápido', the Quick Market, which was south of Town and near 'Hotel Row' on the highway going south out of the County, a predominately Hispanic area. No one was injured, I was told.

As I headed down the hallway toward my office, I saw Lieutenant Jerome Davis, head of the Major Crimes Division (MCD) in the MCD room with Senior Detective Joanne Warner. Joanne saw me and called out "Commander Troy? Can we talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure." I said, diverting into the large MCD room. "You're here early this morning."

"Yes sir, we are." said Jerome Davis, who was a fairly light-skinned black man of medium height and build, but good with the martial arts. He was young for a Lieutenant but had been doing well in the leadership role.

Joanne Warner was also young, and she was white, blonde, and very beautiful. She was also a Military Reservist and an FBI Consultant. She had decent leadership potential, and much more potential to be a brilliant Detective, but her interviewing skills sucked.

"So, whassup?" I asked as I availed myself of the coffee Jerome had made. His father had retired from the Navy, and Jerome knew how to make real Navy coffee, which was popular with the Detectives.

"I came in to try to get a grasp on these convenience store robberies, sir." said Jerome. "Then Joanne came in and pointed something out to me: there are no closable doors on the entrances to Vice and MCD from the hallway, and there's no place we can put whiteboards that won't be in the way of the desks or not visible from both exit doors. Anyone can walk by and see them, as well as what's on the wall monitors."

Joanne added: "I was thinking about that with regard to the leaks to the Press we've been having. It's not a big thing, but it definitely is a security issue."

I nodded, then said: "Good observation. And it might not be the worst idea to have secure doors that have to be opened with a punch code or card reader, like the Intel Branch room has. I'll get with Deputy Chief Ross and see what Physical Properties wants to do about it."

A sudden awkward silence ensued. Then Joanne said "Er, sir, can I ask if it's true that Commander Ross is retiring in lieu of being fired?"

Commander Cindy Ross, the Deputy Chief, was third in line after Police Chief Sean Moynahan and myself, Police Commander Donald Troy. She had 'erred' a few days before, on our last big case, and had been disciplined by Sheriff Antonio Griswold. In our Town & County, the Sheriff was over the Police Department.

Rumors abounded over what that discipline was. As a Medal of Valor recipient, Cindy Ross had the right to retire at any time and with a pension, no matter what her standing was. And therefore, that was an option for her to avoid humiliating punishment.

"You may ask." I replied. "Seriously, she was never going to be fired. And I'll wait until the Sheriff makes the formal announcement to say anything more. But keep this under your hats... we'll need a new Deputy Chief on January 1st. Okay, you said 'robberies', plural? What's going on with those?..."

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

I went to my desk in my office and put my red crowbar on its hooks under the desk. Yes, the red crowbar, where my nickname came from.

I am the Iron Crowbar. And I am a damn good Detective, if I do say so myself. Yes, 'Russ' is 'red', and 'Ferrament' is 'iron implement'. And that's the real me.

As an old French proverb says: "Sometimes, a man's reputation precedes him; sometimes, it follows him." Over the years, that name, the crowbar, and the man carrying it had developed a reputation. Fearsome to some, heroic to others. The Lone Ranger said his mask stood for the law. Similarly, my crowbar stands for Justice... and sometimes against dirty Agents of the Law.

But those that hated me for being good and doing well used that fearsome reputation against me. The Media, which I despise above all other things, relentlessly attacked me as well as the Police, making it as hard as possible for us to do our jobs.

As Police Commander, I was in operational control of the entire Town & County Police Force. We'd just solved the 'Babymaker' murders, and put a Corporate Elitist behind bars. Now we had a series of convenience store robberies to look into. The party never stops in my Town & County...

Part 2 - Press Perfidy

If I were on Easy Street, I'd be relaxing with slugs of bourbon instead of risking slugs fired at me by thugs with powerful handguns. Instead, I've got a string of nasty relationships with dirty cops and the Press, and at times it's hard to tell who's the most dishonest.

Have I mentioned that I utterly despise the Press?

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!' shouted the redheaded MILF reporterette at 7:00am, Wednesday, October 7th, from the anchor desk in the KXTC studios. "Judge Rodney K. Watts seals the 'Babymaker' case records!"

After the 'hard charging' music intro, Bettina began: "Superior Court Judge Rodney K. Watts sealed the records of the Carl Ryder/David Rose murder cases and issued a gag order forbidding the Press from revealing the names of the so called 'Babymaker Club', young men who inseminated and impregnated married women in exchange for money! Let's go to Amber Harris for more on this incredible judicial order. Amber!"

"That's right, Bettina!" said the athletic blonde, reporting from the roof of the building at Riverside Drive and College Street, with the Courthouse in the distant background. "Superior Court Judge Rodney K. Watts sealed the evidence and Police records of the two murder cases, citing the privacy of many individuals who had committed no crimes. Despite being black, Judge Watts has often sided with hardline Conservatives and the Police in his often-wrong rulings, and this ruling appears to be no exception."

Amber: "Additionally, Channel Two News has learned that the Office of University President Sidney P. Wellman filed a 'Friend of the Court' brief asking Judge Watts to issue the gag order against revealing the names of the men of the Babymaker Ring and the women who hired them, denying you the information you have a right to know!"

Amber: "The University President's Office cited an ongoing ethics complaint against Dr. Laura Fredricson, wife of Police Commander Donald Troy and the mother of two of his six known children, as the reason for requesting the gag order. That ethics complaint by Dr. Lionel Carmela, as well as a criminal complain to the State Medical Board asking that Dr. Fredricson's medical license be revoked and that she be removed from the University Hospital Staff, is still ongoing. Dr. Fredricson's slander lawsuit against Dr. Carmela is also ongoing. The gag order will remain in effect at least until all of that is resolved. Back to you, Bettina!"

Back to Bettina live: "Thank you for that important and insightful update, Amber! And now let's go to reporter Pat Stellum with a breaking story. Pat!"

"That's right, Bettina!" said the chubby-cheeked Al-Capone-lookalike Pat Stellum as he appeared on the screen, with a convenience store behind him in the growing morning light. "Last night, the 'Mercado Rápido', a well-known quick market near the Coltrane County Highway, was robbed at gunpoint. The night before last, the Qwik Stop on Riverside Drive, owned by Pablo Gomez, was robbed at gunpoint. The criminals began shooting when someone came in the door and surprised the perps, but fortunately no one was killed nor injured."

Stellum: "Last night's convenience store robbery at gunpoint was the fifth in the last four days, and leaders of the Black Community are becoming increasingly angry at the lack of Police response. Roll tape."

Tape rolled, showing Eldrick X. Weaver, who was black and the Democrat candidate for Mayor, saying "Black and brown people are being held up at gunpoint, and Daniel Allgood is doing nothing about it!" Daniel Allgood was white and the current Mayor, and the attempts to steal the election from him and for Weaver two years before were stopped by Your Iron Crowbar and a judicial order. The rancor that resulted continued unabated.

Bruce Finneran, who was white and a card-carrying member of NAMbLA, and Democrat candidate for County Inspector General, was shown saying "It's inexplicable that Horace Wellman has not demanded the Police do something about these robberies! When I am Inspector General, I will hold the Police accountable for their inaction on crimes against black and brown people!"

Back to Stellum live: "The Police have not responded to repeated requests by KXTC for comment on their failure to stop these robberies. It might take someone being killed to get Commander Donald Troy off his butt to do something about them..."

Part 3 - Film Study

The door to my office opened, and in walked trouble. Dirty blonde, as usual. A lot of people warned me that this dame was bad news, that she was a mean bitch with a bad attitude. But to me, she's an Angel.

Lieutenant Commander Teresa Croyle came into my office just before 8:00am. She was married to my sister's son, but more importantly she was my Commander of Operations, having control over the Uniformed Officers of both Precincts and at Headquarters. She was technically in charge of the Detectives Division as well, mostly to facilitate coordinated operations.

Teresa Croyle had in the past been called 'Teresa Cunt' behind her back, as she had been one of the meanest bitches you'd ever not want to meet. Her career had nearly ended when she beat up a State Senator's son who had driven drunk and killed a mother and her children, but that led me to finding Teresa's secret that her own sister had been killed by a drunk driver, and other family issues. And so I was able to save her. Smartest thing I ever did.

Now, Teresa was indispensable to me, not only as an Officer, but as a loyal friend. Truth be told, she was the only person in the world I truly completely trusted, even more than I trusted my own wife.

"I've been briefed by the Precinct Captains on these robberies in the Hispanic areas." Teresa said. "The newscast didn't mention that there was also a robbery in the small Latino cluster northwest of Town. Can't have the wealthy folks in their gated communities up north being frightened by crime in their neighborhoods, dontcha know?"

Cynical, the 'Iron Wolf' was. Justifiably so, I thought agreeably.

"Yeah," I said. "And we were distracted with the Babymaker cases, though that's no excuse. Still, the rabidly hostile Press is taking cheap shots at us for not miraculously solving the cases in one day------"

*Whirrrrrrrrrrr*

That noise was Captain of Operations Tanya Perlman Muscone driving her wheelchair into my office and parking on a dime... literally, as I'd taped a dime to the floor in front of my desk and she always unerringly stopped right on it. She had been shot in her spine as she'd saved her baby son's life, and had lost the use of her legs.

She had a mane of tawny blonde hair that would put Farrah Fawcett to shame, twinkling eyes, and a wicked grin when she brought her sense of humor to the fore. Her nickname was 'Lady Ironside', and she was still one of the sharpest Detectives on the Town & County Police Force. And she was one of my three 'Crowbar's Angels', along with Teresa and Cindy Ross.

After watching the Fox Eight News coverage at 8:00am, which told me nothing new of any particular value, I started the 'Angels Meeting'. "Okay, these holdups in the convenience stores. The Press is already all over them, which rouses my suspicions, but we do need to do something about them...the holdups, that is. I already know what I'd like to do to the Press."

Tanya said "My Vice Lieutenant, Rudistan, had been keeping me informed of these robberies, sir, and I apologize for not giving them more emphasis in my reports to you."

Rudistan was best known for being a white kid that grew up in the Projects with mostly black kids, always being jovial and a practical joker at times, and for being an outstanding Police Officer that had worked his way up to Lieutenant and leadership of the Vice Squad. One of my best attributes is seeing the potential of people like Rudistan, and putting them in their best and most effective places. It had taken some effort and 'persuasion' to get Rudistan to take the job, but once he did he warmed up to it, and the Vice Squad to him.

"That's okay." I said. "I saw the duty logs. It wasn't a pattern of serial robberies until just now. So what do we know about them?"

Tanya said "We think, but are not solidly sure, that a black gang is committing the robberies. They may be a splinter group of Jacquez Wilson's old gang, the 'Blockhouse Boyz', but seeing as most of those perps were arrested or blown up with Wilson when the Block House blew up, these guys may be independent." (Author's note: 'Consequences', Ch. 04-05.)

Tanya; "We've gotten some footage from the stores that were robbed, as well as spotty street camera footage. Intel Branch is analyzing that data now and will be bringing you a full report. I've asked them to analyze any patterns, so that we can possibly predict where they may strike next, and we can set up some stakeouts and watch out for them."

"Sounds good." I said. "Anything from Confidential Informants?"

"Not yet, sir." said Tanya. "Our guys had been talking to many of them regarding the Babymaker cases, and they did give us info on the hired killers that led to the Roseblatt bust. Now we're touching base with C.I.s in the Hispanic Community as well as the Black Community, but we'll need time to hear back from them."

"Okay." I said. "Stay on top of that, and tell Rudistan to be ready to lead some stakeout operations. Teresa, coordinate with him and the Precincts to provide help and manpower for that, if needed."

"Yes sir." said Teresa.

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

I thought back to my days as an Army Paratrooper. People told me I was crazy for jumping out of perfectly good aircraft while in flight. They may call me crazy, but they never call me a coward.

And that goes double for the Airborne Ranger. I was good, but I never was a Ranger, and my respect for them is unbounded. "Rangers lead the way" is not just a motto, it's their way of life. And that comes with consequences.

There was a knock on my door, and Lieutenant Mary Milton of Intel Branch came in, followed by Auxiliary Officer Terry Halston. Mary was a 'Goth Girl', and today her hair was bright purple. She was so damn good at data gathering and analysis that the Chief and I just kept silent about her hair color choices.

Terry Halston had been an Army Ranger in Afghanistan, and was brought to my attention by his cousin, one of my daughter's classmates at school. Halston could not serve on our SWAT Team with other former Rangers, as he'd been diagnosed with PTSD and so far could not carry a service weapon. We were working on that, but in the meantime, Halston's skills with data analysis and driving our drones around were invaluable.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Milton, Ranger Halston." I said, giving her the respect of her title, and him the respect of that Ranger Tab he'd earned. "Whassup?"

"Sir," said Mary Milton, "Halston has developed a C.I., but he needs your approval to complete the paperwork signing the guy up." She handed me some paperwork across the desk.

"Have a seat, guys." I said, and they sat down in the 'hot chairs' in front of my desk. They were comfortable, they rotated, and they had armrests. But every Officer on the Force knew that they were called 'hot' chairs for a reason; only well-prepared Officers dared to sit in them.

"Tell me about this guy, Halston." I said.

"Sir," said Terry Halston, "he was a Ranger in Afghanistan, like me and Kalsu and Patrick were, but he wasn't in our unit. He developed relationships with people over there that were growing and shipping out opium for heroin production. When they caught him, he told his superiors he was with the CIA, who neither confirmed or denied it."

Halston: "He and his unit were shipped out of Afghanistan, and we always thought it was because the whole unit was compromised, or else they were all involved in the drug pipeline. He had a Bar to Re-enlistment, so he was processed out. He'd been in Southport for a couple of years, then moved up here six months ago... and sure enough, he started working for T-Mac, running drugs."

"He still has connections to the warlords in Afghanistan?" I asked.

"Yes sir." Terry said. "But he came to me a week ago. He said he wanted to get out, go legit, but that they'd hunt him down and kill him if he did... he knows too much."

"Just what is trying to get out of? The drug racket, or the CIA?" I asked.

"Yes." said Lt. Milton, meaning both. I chuckled.

"Sounds like the Company is telling him he knows too much, and that they might arrange his terminal dismissal." I said. "And I'm married to a former Deputy Director of the CIA, so I hear things like that from time to time." I did not mention how they'd tried to send my wife on a 'terminal' mission, but I intervened to make sure Laura came home alive. (Author's note: 'Her Last Bow'.)

Halston said "I suggested he stay in and become my C.I., and he liked the idea. He also likes it that he could get 10% of any busts we make based on his information."

"And he's aware of the dangers?" I asked. "If he's found out, he could easily come over all dead."

Halston said "He's a Ranger, sir. He's never lacked for courage."

"I'll buy that for a dollar." I said. "So why do I have to personally approve this?"

"He's been flagged for a PTSD diagnosis." said Mary Milton. "And he was involved in a shootout in Southport. Charges were reduced, as they couldn't prove he actually fired shots at anyone, but it makes him high-risk."

"Okay." I said, as I perused the file. "Goes by the name 'Caleb'. Grew up in the Southport Projects. Tough place. His Army record is a see-saw: Bronze Star with 'V' Device for bravery, two Purple Hearts... and several busts, with two full Courts-Martial: one for attacking a Second Lieutenant, for which he was acquitted when it was shown the white Lieutenant shoved Caleb's head in a toilet because he was black; and drug distribution, which was dropped without explanation, and he was shipped out with his unit. Sounds like an ideal C.I., so why is there an issue?"