Interlude Ch. 05

This is the last of the Interlude vignettes. There IS sex in this story, after the background material that Necessity compels me to provide. I look forward to offering you, the patient readers, with new mystery series for you to solve, and I hope that you will enjoy the sex that always seems to happen, but Dame Agatha Christie never wrote about.

If you have not read the "Todd & Melina" series, particularly Chapter 5, you may wish to do so before reading this chapter of the "Interlude" series.

Note: there are some portions of this story that might give offense to some readers. This is part of the set-up for future stories, and no offense to any person of any ethnicity is intended by the author.

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

Part 1 - New Characters, Battle Lines Drawn

The leaves were turning, and it was a beautiful Autumn. It was late September, and I had settled well into my new job with the Town Police. So far, I had concentrated mostly upon my duties as Supervisor of the IT/Data Department. It was a fairly efficient organization, though I noticed some threads of hostility running between certain members of the staff. This same division, which I was beginning to understand, ran through the entire department. Perhaps this was what the top brass wanted me to learn about when they brought me in?

The police headquarters was a new building. From the outside it looked like a trim, modern business building with rows of windows. Inside, however, it was completely compartmentalized. The front entrance faced east. To the right was the patrol officers' desk as well as the in-processing and jail areas. Arrested persons were brought in through an entrance on the right side of the building, and the building was designed to move them from point-to-point from booking to the jail cells in the back. A fenced in area in back allowed some outdoor recreation for those in the jail.

To the left of the building was the fenced-in, secure parking lot. Employees parked there and a door on the left side of the building gave access. A second reason for this area being fenced in and off-limits: somewhere under the ground ran the length of the 100-meter firing range, and by keeping the above-ground off limits, no one could dig down into the restricted range area. Theoretically.

On the left side of the building was Administration, the senior officers' and Prosecutor's offices, and the Chief's office in the back corner. In the center area, surrounded by hallways or offices, was a big auditorium/meeting room with rows of seats and a small stage. On the inside left, across the hall from the admin and seniors' offices, were two large rooms with many back-to-back desks. The front area was mainly Vice, the back area Major Crimes, which encompassed Homicide, Robbery, kidnappings, etc., and sometimes even white-collar crimes.

To the left of the lobby in front was the "public access" area. Interview rooms as well as the Media Officer and the press room were in this area. There was no access to the rest of the building from this area.

Behind the front desk in the lobby, was the limited-access areas of the building. In the center behind the lobby area was a small room adjoined to the front of the big auditorium/meeting room. This room had double reinforced-concrete walls, a metal door with a bulletproof glass window, big double-doors that were double bolted. Inside, a police officer was on duty at all times. A freight elevator was to the right, and stairs to the left. One had to have a special-access key card as well as one keypad code to open the door to the stairs or the elevator. The descending stairs had two right turns, making them easily defensible. At the bottom of the stairs was another door, requiring the key card and a different keypad access code. The freight elevator also could not open on the bottom floor without the key-card and the second code.

The reason for the security: the basement, which was completely underground, was the secure/restricted areas. One walked back (west) into a vestibule in the middle of the building which offered four choices: to the front left (of the building) was the Armory and the firing range. To the right was the Evidence room, which was compartmentalized into "weapons evidence", "drug evidence" and "other evidence". The back left room was the IT/Data department, which was mine. The back right room was called "The Dungeon" and other sundry names. Almost no one had ever been inside there. It was the Internal Affairs Department.

My office was in the very back left corner, beneath the chief's office as far as I could tell. The door's wall was at a 45 degree angle to the walls coming from the building wall, so it was more of a "home plate" shape than a square. Two cheap oak desks were squeezed into the room and I sat in the corner behind them, further squeezed off. But I wasn't complaining. It was my little kingdom.

Fortunately, the Major Crimes cubicle room upstairs (first floor, actually) had a desk next to the entrance door. It was not used by anyone, and therefore was used by everyone, but I was told that it was for my use if and when I needed it.

"Sorry, Don." Hugh Hewitt, my fellow redhead detective told me, in front of an assemblage of detectives. "It's all cluttered, but it's there." Hugh's hair was darker red than mine, almost auburn in color. Hugh was about my age. He had been a military officer and awarded the Purple Heart from combat in Iraq. He was solid, hard as nails when he needed to be. He was good and thorough as a detective, but he lacked that key trait of imagination when it came to solving investigations.

"That's fine." I replied. "As long as I get the chair." I affirmed my right to the chair by sitting down in it. Though the detectives in the Major Crimes Division/Unit (MCD or MCU, as it was alternatively called) were my equals, everyone knew that as a Supervisor, I held a de facto edge on them. I had to carefully mix in with them, not overly asserting myself, but still be in a leadership role. Whatta job, I thought to myself.

It was in that chair that I was sitting at 6:50am on this particular morning, talking to Detective Tanya Perlman. We were the only ones in the room at the moment. Tanya was short, about 5'4", shapely body, big breasted, and had a very cute face with cherubic, rosy cheekbones and a pretty smile. Her eyes, however, were mischievous, both promising and teasing. She had a big mane of light brown hair, and left it in styles more popular in the 1980s-- such as Farrah Fawcett's famous hair-- than today's styles, but she didn't care. She could've made a lot of money as a porn star, I thought idly to myself before rebuking myself. Tanya Perlman was cute, very friendly, but also a very sharp cop, and I had high hopes that she would be a really great detective.

"It's a weird relationship between the Town and County." Perlman was telling me, in the tone of a briefing. "The town has about 65,000 people and the outlying county has 55,000 for a total of about 120,000. Some years ago, the town and county services were merged, but not completely. The "Town Police" actually are now the all-County Police and have full jurisdiction over the entire county. However, the Town & County Council has 5 members from the town, 5 from the outlying county, and the Mayor, who is elected county-wide, is the moderator and tie-breaker vote if needed. He often IS needed."

"Is there a Sheriff's Department?" I asked.

"Technically, yes. The court bailiffs are deputy sheriffs. And if we had a Sheriff, he would be over the Chief of Police, as well. The Sheriff is an elected position, but the last sheriff died of a heart attack three years ago, and we've apparently seen fit not to have another one at this time..."

"What about the school?" I asked.

"The University is the property of the State. The Campus Police handles most stuff, especially stuff that comes under Vice. Lt. Maxwell handles that. If anything else big happens, though, like a murder, then the SBI, the State Bureau of Investigation, has jurisdiction, and they just love to come in and throw their weight around."

"Hmmm, so maybe that's where some of the Town vs. School rift came from?" I mused.

"Yeah, some." Tanya answered. "But some of the past problems were really between the school itself and some townspeople that don't really like the, shall we say 'decadence' that goes on on school campuses." Tanya was grinning as she said that. She then added "Do you think that's why you were hired? To run interference with the SBI?"

"Uh, probably not." I said. "So I guess the reasons for my being hired are the worst kept secret in town?" 
 "Not by a longshot," Tanya answered, smiling knowingly, "but your dual role is going to be interesting to watch. Some here think you have a lot of guts taking it. Some are betting the job will break you."

"Oh really?" I said.

"But I have a feeling you're going to handle it, and I'll be there handling it with you. By the way, I will find out everything about you..." Tanya said, getting up as if to leave but coming up near me and whispering "... including how good you are in bed." As I whirled around in shock, Tanya walked into the hall, and like the Cheshire Cat she was flashing me a lovely smile and then was gone from my sight.

I hardly had time to react when Prosecutor Paulina Patterson suddenly appeared in the doorway. "You. My office. NOW." she ordered, then stalked off. I got up and rushed to her office, which was in the area with the Chief and the senior officers.

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

Paulina Patterson, assistant district attorney (ADA) and prosecutor, was a black woman but very light-skinned, and she was probably about my age. She was average height, slender and attractive, showed her beautiful teeth when she flashed her lovely smile, and she wore her hair mostly in a tight bun similar to the way Melina wore hers. She was a brilliant lawyer, but was stuck in what the DA's office considered the dirty job, being the prosecutor at the police station. Her office was in our building while everyone else in the DA's office had their offices in the Courthouse complex. She resented it, but did her job with brilliance and efficiency, and her record of prosecutions was envied by far more experienced legal eagles.

Paulina's office had been the worst-equipped vis-a-vis the telephone and computer. I gained tremendous puppy points with her by personally upgrading her office with the latest technology. This, however, caused Captain Malone to become very angry.

Captain Harold Malone was turning out to be a major thorn. He had designs on the chief's chair, possibly the sheriff's post, and I began realizing that part of the old rifts involved him. It was not so much MCD vs. Vice, but those who were loyal to Malone vs. everyone else.

It took a visit to the chief's office to understand why Malone was angry about my upgrades to Prosecutor Patterson's office. "I could say that Malone is one of those guys who thinks a woman's place should be in the home." Griswold noted. "He'll quote you places in the Bible about it, though he's careful not to say too much around Cindy Ross." I laughed, but was struck silent as Griswold continued. "But the truth is worse: what is really going on with Malone and Patterson is that she's black. The Ku Klux Klan hardly exists anymore, and certainly not around here -- but if it did, Malone would be a candidate for the Grand Dragon."

"Racist, eh?" I murmured. "How does he tolerate Dexter Robinson?"

"Not well. Not well at all." the chief replied. "Though he's careful not to show his hand too much. He's be courteous as hell to Robinson in front of me or anyone else, but fortunately Robinson doesn't involve himself much in actual police work so I don't have to babysit that situation. By the way.... this is entirely between you and me. We have nothing formal on Malone, he's cunning and careful. This is 'off the record', solely for your ears alone."

"Gotcha. Thanks for the info." I said, then grinned as I added, "Hmmm... suddenly I seem to feel inspired to work even harder to upgrade Prosecutor Patterson's office."

Another clue, I thought to myself.

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

"What the hell is this?" Prosecutor Patterson asked sharply as I sat down in the chair in front of her desk. A file of papers slid rapidly across her desk at me, flung by a snap of her slender wrist. I caught the file as it reached the edge of the desk and began examining it as she stared at me. I made an observation of her, as well.

"Looks like the Benson file." I said. "Loser running a numbers game, small-time petty thefts. We caught him with some stolen video games last week."

"Yes. You did." Patterson replied. "And just how did you get the idea that those stolen games were on him?"

"Uh... Myron ran some data that showed him to have a record in this kind of stuff, so Croyle and Ross asked him a few questions about his whereabouts. His alibi didn't hold up, so we got a warrant for his apartment and found the stolen goods there."

Myron was a geeky guy in my IT department. He rarely came out of the basement and just loved writing computer programs and searching for data. His programs found data from places he probably should not be getting data from, so I had to keep an eye on that, but otherwise he was a godsend as a data expert. He rarely forgot anything, and he was able to correlate records and data that seemed unrelated into packages of patterns. I thought he was as invaluable to the Town Police Force as any detective or officer when it came to solving crimes, but before I came along his talents had been suppressed by egotistical senior officers. I'd already put him in for a pay increase.

"So what am I supposed to do with this?" Paulina Patterson asked, again sharply. "The perp is whining that the questioning of him was done without due cause, and that the only reason he screwed up his story is because the detectives intimidated him."

"Paulina, it's a good case. The warrant was obtained, and legitimately. But if you think it's thin, then I suggest letting the grand jury bring the indictment, and if they don't just drop this. This guy will fuck up again and we'll be right there when he does." I then straightened up in my chair and asked her back, unexpectedly, "Well... did I pass?"

Paulina started visibly, her face shocked, then broke into a smile. "Yes, you passed. How did you know I was just testing you?"

I just smiled. "Trade secret." I answered. In truth, I had observed her attempts to hide the amused gleam in her eyes, and I had realized that she was testing me. I also knew that she did these tests on all new detectives coming in, but they never knew when it was a test and when they were about to get a serious dressing down for creating a legal loophole for the perp.

"You're the first to ever figure me out." Paulina said, easing back into her chair. "You are as good as the chief said you were. What other secrets are you finding out?"

"How's your new computer?" I asked, smiling. It was both a repartee to her probe for information and a message that I was now aware of the reasons behind Malone's dislike of her... and anyone on the outside would've been none the wiser. Paulina was sharp enough to figure it out. My question was also a reminder of appreciation and loyalty, and I wanted Prosecutor Patterson on my side. Besides... I wouldn't mind finding out just how good in bed she was.

"Well, you're right about this case. I'm going to go grand jury with it, but I think it'll sail through. So, refresh my memory." Paulina said, steering the conversation into safer channels. "Who were the officers on this case?"

"Croyle from Vice, and Ross from MCD. I'm not clear on why Ross was involved as this was clearly a Vice case. Besides, Croyle and Ross are such good friends." I said, the last part being filled with sarcasm.

"Yes, they're like oil and water, but they end up working together half the time." Patterson said.

Cindy Ross was a good detective on my MCD team. In her younger years in her early twenties, she had competed in those "Miss Physical America" bodybuilding competitions. I had seen some of her pictures from that time, showing her incredible Herculean physique with well-defined muscles on top of well-defined muscles. I found a certain sexiness about her and the other muscle women from those pics.

Today, in her late 20s, she had backed off that level hardness and she had slimmed down from the bulkiness of her competition years, but she was still extremely muscular. No man in the department could handle her physically, and on top of that she was proficient at the mixed martial arts which she practiced to keep limber. She had blonde hair, sometimes dyed platinum lightness, which she wore short and straight, and she had dual American/Canadian citizenship, having been born in the United States to Canadian parents.

Cindy was not beautiful in the feminine "pretty" sense, but there was an attractiveness about her that men liked. I would love to fuck Cindy Ross, knowing that if she crushed me between those powerful thighs of hers, it would be one heck of a way to go. But I also suspected that she "played for the other team."

Teresa Croyle was fairly short, her face was attractive but not beautiful, and she had blonde hair, darker blonde than Cindy's, which Teresa wore straight though the tips slightly curled at her shoulders. But her body! OMG... Teresa had one of the most perfect bodies a woman could have. Athletic and firm but not overly muscular, Teresa's body had that hourglass shape, mouthwatering ass, great shapely legs and feet (though not as luscious as Laura's). And her breasts.... big breasts, natural full melons that rode high on her chest and stood out proudly. "Built like a brick shit-house" came to mind, and I had thought of Teresa several times while I was fucking Melina or Laura and needed a "little boost."

The only problem with Teresa is that I had never seen her smile, and she seemed to have a permanent bitterness on her face which marred what otherwise could've been attractive. And the bitterness reflected her attitude: she was one of the most anti-social, unfriendly persons I had ever met. She was almost always formal when talking to me, but never any friendliness, and she made sure to cut short any paths of conversation that I or anyone tried in order to establish any rapport.

Her nickname was "Teresa Cunt." She had had some incidents where her temper and bitchiness came forth, causing disputes with other officers, especially other women. She and Cindy had sparred bitterly, though the viciousness of their animosity had abated over time. She was one hell of a good cop, but no one wanted to work with her, except Captain Malone and Steven Ikea, to whom she seemed loyal.

All police officers underwent psychological evaluations, but why she was such a bitch had so far eluded the several investigations of her that had taken place at Chief Griswold's request. Dr. Laura Fredricson was a volunteer on the committee of psychologists that did the examinations, but she had told me privately that there was nothing really wrong with Teresa -- she was just a bitch.

"Ah, yes, Teresa Cunt." Paulina Patterson said. "Yeah, I know, I shouldn't talk like that. But she is such a fucking bitch." I nodded in agreement. "She's good, though. I've never had a problem with any case she's brought in. She's on Malone and Ikea's side, of course. Figures."

"Yes." I said. "That Ikea is a real piece of work." With Paula letting down her guard and speaking so openly about Teresa Cunt, I allowed my observations of Ikea to come forth.