Politics & Prejudice Ch. 02

"Were the others TCFD Firefighters?" I asked.

"One of them was." said Muscone. "He was of the guys at Station 1 when that EMT was raped and the others beaten. The other two are from out of town, but have been on our radar in Tennessee for a while. They're the guys Ben Ellis brought in.

"Well, you can have 'em." I said. "Just get a murder confession out of 'em, so I can close the case here and finish the paperwork."

Part 12 - Issues And Answers

Saturday night at the Cabin. In addition to my mom, Laura, the kids and the dogs, Molly brought the boys, and Cindy, Teresa and Todd and little Doug came. Also there were Chief Griswold and his wife (who doted on the kids), Chief Moynahan, Teddy Parker, and Joanne and Seth Warner.

"Did the FBI get back to you on those arrests?" asked Cindy.

"They're making some progress." Laura said. "Jefferson says he killed the two Firefighters because they were black and sympathetic to the EMTs. The ones from Tennessee said they'd been recruited by Ben Ellman from the Point Hollow case, and Jefferson had them come along after Ellman was arrested. I know that's not the full story, neither from the perps nor from the FBI, but it is what it is for now."

"Did they really think they could start a race war?" asked Joanne. "Sounds like 'Helter Skelter' all over again."

"It's interesting." I said. "I'm not sure why Jefferson snapped, but he was still trying to garner hatred for the EMTs. I'm starting to think there is some kind of cultish thing about that."

"What do you mean?" asked Teresa.

"I mean, come on." I said. "This kind of hatred, and months after the EMTs have been wiped out of this County. I am honestly starting to think some of these guys were drugged and hypnotized in their sleep."

"One of my Psychology professors had an interesting idea about it." said Laura. "What you're saying, Don, is not far off from her thinking. She thinks it's some kind of proxy for race-hatred, though. These guys were somehow made to hate EMTs as an experiment. More generally applied, it could be a factor in racial tensions being built up all over the Nation."

"In that Jefferson was going to shoot black firefighters as part of his plan," I said, "I can see that. Anyway, they're busted."

"How did you know what it was about?" asked Teddy Parker.

"Well," I said, "the two dead Firemen didn't hang out with other firemen very much. Jackson played chess, and Malcolm liked going to clubs. So their kidnapping would not be quickly noticed by other firemen. Who would have some idea of that? A former Fire Department Assistant Chief would, and one who was erratic, at that."

"One other thing I noticed," I said, "was that they were in uniform when they were found. Now they got off shift at 6:00am that morning. Most of us, when we get off duty, change clothes if we're in uniform. I would think a Fireman on 24 hour duty would go home, get out of his uniform, maybe eat, then go to bed and get some sleep. Upon getting up, and not due back on duty for a couple of days, they usually put on regular clothes.

"So I surmised that either they were kidnapped not long after they got off duty, or their uniforms were put back on them. And that suggests we're looking at a concept that the murderer wanted us to quickly figure out they were TCFD firefighters, but not so fast they couldn't dump the bodies where they wanted to."

"And like Sheriff Sorrells said, why dump them in Coltrane County?" Cindy asked.

"And near 'The Vision'." I said. "After Uncle Harvey helped all those EMTs find jobs. Those Battalion Chiefs that 'fronted us on that, Cindy, they knew that already when they asked the questions at that meeting. So maybe in someone's deranged mine, planting the bodies there would implicate The Vision, or at least have us looking at it."

"But to your question, Cindy," I said, "my guess is that someone wanted you and me out of the County, and fully distracted while the Community Center was being rigged with plastique. And they achieved that, for sure." Everyone nodded in agreement with that idea.

"What about the Community Center?" asked Chief Griswold. "Those poor people are very angry right now. Can't say I blame them."

"We will try to make them less angry." I said. "Come Monday, at the auction...

Part 13 - Winning Streak Ended

On Monday morning, May 23d, the bidding began. A representative for Northwest Properties Development, owned by Thomas P. Cook, was there. His name was Mr. Cole, and he'd once accosted Jeanine Burke over some Acme papers, if I recalled correctly. He seemed confident in a quick and easy process. There were only a few others there, and some of them were waiting for tax liens to be sold off.

"We will start the bidding at $750,000." said the auctioneer, looking at Cook's representative. The price was well under the fair market value of over a million dollars. Mr. Cole raised his paddle. "Do I hear $800,000?" asked the auctioneer.

"One million dollars." said a voice. Everyone looked over with gasps. The man was young, had a full head of black hair, was dressed in a well-tailored suit, and looked serene and confident. He was Marlon Stonecliff... and what most in the room did not know is that he was one of P. Harvey Eckhart's most trusted attorneys.

"One million dollars, do I hear one million, fifty thousand?" the auctioneer intoned. Mr. Cole signaled that as his bid.

"One million, three hundred thousand." said Stonecliff, again causing gasps. The auctioneer acknowledged. Mr. Cole's face reddened, and he raised his paddle at the next $50,000 increment. At that point, Mr. Stonecliff acknowledged the next higher bid. Soon, the price was up to $1.6 million.

A woman next to Mr. Cole was on her cellphone, which was against the rules, but the auctioneer did not stop her. She whispered something to Cole, who nodded.

Then, at $1.8 million, Mr. Stonecliff said "I bid two million dollars." Again, bulging eyes looked at him. Cole looked at him furiously, then acknowledged the auctioneer's call of $2.1 million. Stonecliff raised another $100,000. The woman next to Cole shook her head, and Cole just shook his head at the auctioneer.

"Sold!" called out the auctioneer with a bang of his gavel, indicating Mr. Stonecliff was the victor.

After doing the paperwork at the window, Mr. Stonecliff was in the front lobby of the Courthouse building when Cole accosted him, with two large men behind him. "Who the hell are you? Who do you work for?"

"I work for Dr. P. Harvey Eckhart, sir, the great man and leader of 'The Vision'." replied Mr. Stonecliff. "And you are Thomas P. Cook's representative?"

"You're about to learn a lesson in interfering with Mr. Cook's affairs. Gentlemen, I believe this man has committed fraud. Arrest him!"

"Is there a problem here?" came a voice. Everyone turned to see a large man in a Tilley Hat, and a platinum blonde woman with no hat. Both were in TCPD uniforms, with red and purple rectangles above their right shirt pockets. More importantly, both were carrying crowbars.

"Who are you two?" I asked the burly men.

"That's none of your business." said one of them.

"Uh, hold on, Charlie." said the other, getting the picture much more quickly. To me he said "We're private security for Mr. Cole, Commander Troy. We are licensed to carry firearms as part of our duties."

"But you have no power to arrest anyone in my County." I said. "I'm giving you about fifteen seconds to get out of my sight. I do not forget faces, and if I see either of yours in this County again, you are the ones that will be arrested." The men quickly hustled out of there.

"Mr. Cole," I said, "go run like the dog you are to your master, and tell Thomas Cook that I am watching him... and there'd better be no more trouble for Mr. Stonecliff here nor anyone else associated with 'The Vision'... or I'll personally administer a spanking to Mr. Cook's fourth point of contact. Now get out of here before I decide to arrest you for assault." Mr. Cole wisely made a hasty retreat.

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

Tuesday, May 24th. At 10:00am, there was an announcement in front of the Community Center. The grounds were already being cleared.

Dr. P. Harvey Eckhart assumed the podium and said in his gravelly voice "I am putting this land into a charitable trust, to be managed by my daughter and my nephew equally. The land will be used for a Community Center for our elderly friends, our brave war veterans, and other community groups that serve people. I will also be defraying costs of reconstructing the Community Center." There was applause from the group in attendance.

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

At 10:30pm that Tuesday night, Sergeant Rudistan and Patrolman Morton escorted two people from City Hall to Police Headquarters. Councilpersons John Colby and Dagmar Schoen were brought to my office, where Cindy and her father Dr. Eckhart were sitting on the sofa, and me in my chair behind my desk.

John Colby spoke first: "The Council voted to use eminent domain to condemn the Community Center property. They're going to seize it and sell it directly to Northwest Properties Development Corp., with no public auction this time. They claim State Law allows this."

"The vote was 5-2, with McGhillie, Goldman, and Steele abstaining." said Dagmar. "Word is that Cook and the others threatened to use eminent domain and seize McGhillie's golf course if he voted against them. Don... they were totally out of control in there. Even Goldman and Steele... they just sat there and let it happen."

"Five to two is not a majority, is it?" I asked.

"Technically, yes it is." said Colby. "The Mayor votes only in case of ties, and he made a note for the record that if the abstentions were 'no' votes, he would vote in the affirmative with the five. Archaic rule, but it means it passed. Deemed passed, I guess you would say."

"Well," I said. "There's little we can do about it. Eminent domain is one of the few flaws in the United States Constitution, and there is only one explicit property right in the Constitution."

(Author's note: Trivia question: what is that one explicit property right in the United States Constitution?)

I continued: "I think Dr. Eckhart here may have a legal case concerning the timing... taking his money and then taking the property back immediately."

"They addressed that." said Colby. "They said if push came to shove, they'd return all of Eckhart's money, but Cook said he was going to have the property come hell or high water."

"Ms. Ross," I said, "would you prefer to be hell or high water? I'll take what's left."

"Oh, I'm going to be hell on earth for him, sir." Cindy said.

"Well," said Eckhart, who had been on the phone, "I'll have this in Federal Court within ten minutes of the second reading of their bill. They'll enjoin the development of the land, though that means we can't build a new Community Center, either."

"Well," I said, feeling terrible inside, "that's all we can do. John, Dagmar, carry guns, both of you. Watch your backs."

"I'm going to find someone to run against Cook." said Cindy. "May even do it myself."

"It's too late to file." said Colby. "A month before the primaries is the deadline, and the primaries were May 3d. You can't even run as an independent now, at least you can't get your name on the ballot."

"Okay, everyone." I said. "We've had a bad night. We've had a severe setback. Hell, we've lost one, and I hate losing. You guys go home, get some sleep. I'll have Officers take you back to City Hall, then follow you home to make sure you get there safely. Cindy, take Dr. Eckhart home, take Rudistan and Morton with you, County line be damned."

"What about you, Don?" Cindy asked.

"I have to think." I said. "I have to think about what to do." They all left me alone. I locked my door and turned out the lights, then sat down in the 'Command Chair'.

It would be dawn before I became aware of my surroundings again...

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

Thursday, May 26th. Councilwoman Dagmar Schoen had filed a formal assault charge against Thomas P. Cook, with several members of the Senior Citizens that had been at the scene filing affidavits on her behalf. I was prepared to make the arrest, but the charges were dismissed with prejudice by Judge Harry 'Spud' Nance.

"This guy is like Sharples." said Cindy as we ate lunch at the sandwich shop on Courthouse Square. "Just cannot get him."

"We got Sharples." I said. "We'll get this bastard, too. Just not for this."

"Maybe my father can win the lawsuit." Cindy said.

"He might get his money back." I said. "But he won't win. It's the Government on the other side in the Courtroom. And the Government has rigged the game so that they win and good People lose."

"Yeah, I know."

"It's like that old movie, when the Police Chief said 'Round up the usual suspects.' Well, all you have to do is round up the politicians. Both Establishment political parties, Republican and Democrat, are equally criminal, equally corrupt. They are above the law. They are not held to account. They are not held to the same standard as you and I and all the Citizens."

"And it's a triumvirate of corruption." I said. "Tell me about the Media coverage of what the Council did. Not one word. I called Bettina myself about it, to no avail. The Media is covering for Cook, covering for the Council, it's all a rigged game and they are all in it together..."

As I took a breath, I saw Cindy staring at me. "Don," she said, "I have never seen you like this nor heard you say things like this, not this strongly and bitterly, anyway. Are you okay?"

I shook my head. "This weekend may be the last peaceful weekend I have. After Memorial Day, the shit is going to start hitting the fan. The final phase of the Consultant's plan is going to begin, and I am going to move against him and begin the final attempt to take him out before he can get away. In addition, I am going to have to go prevent the FBI from making a huge mistake and a huge mess, and right some wrongs done to my family..."

"You're scaring me, Don." Cindy said. "Let's walk back to Headquarters."

As we walked, I said "I need to say this, too. Thank you, Cindy. Thank you for being there for me, and working beside me all this time, and for keeping the faith even when you thought I wasn't keeping faith with you."

"I am your Kato, Green Hornet." Cindy said. "I'll be right there with you until the job is done."

"And speaking as family... I love you, Cindy. I haven't said that enough, and I don't want to begin this without you knowing that."

"I love you too, Don." Cindy said. "Now what can I do to cheer you up, besides beating the shit out of Thomas P. Cook?"

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

When we got back to the office, Lt. Croyle was waiting for us.

"Sir, ma'am," she said as we sat down in my office, "looks like someone is trying to bring in a shipment of drugs Group of guys that have been 'disavowed' from T-Square's Regiment. Looks like they want to compete with him. The drugs coming in are oxycodone, vicodin, morphine. Painkillers."

"Painkillers." said Cindy. "Must be a special order for the SBI." I laughed.

"All right, Lt. Croyle, you know what to do..." I said, then grinned as I added: "Round up the usual suspects..."

Part 14 - Epilogue

Memorial Day, May 30th. It was early afternoon, and Lt. Teresa Croyle was in her office. She heard a knock on the door and called out "Come in!... oh, Commander!..."

"Hello." I said. "Why are you working on this Holiday?"

"I have no other place to be." Teresa said.

"Well, you don't know it yet, but you do have somewhere to be. Change to civilian clothes and I'll be back in five minutes."

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

When she was ready, I came by her office. To Teresa's surprise, I took the picture of her father from his wartime days from her wall, and said we'd take it with us.

I drove us to the Cop Bar, which was closed for the afternoon for the Holiday... or so it appeared. When we went inside, there were a number of old men in the room. Mr. Davis was there, cranky as ever, and some younger men, but younger only in relation to him. They were all drinking beers.

"Was this your doing, Commander?" Teresa asked me.

"You betcha." I said. "I called every veteran of the Viet-Nam-era 173d Airborne Brigade that I could find in this area of the country, and asked them to stop by."

"Glad you did, young man." said one of the old soldiers.

Teresa sat down at a round table with some of them. When I put the picture of her father on the table, some of the men gathered around and looked at it.

"Yeah, that's him, I remember him." said one man. "Are you his daughter?" Teresa nodded. "I was in the 173d with him. He was a no-nonsense man, that was for sure. And one of the bravest sons-of... well, one of the bravest men I ever saw."

"Should've had the Medal of Honor." said another man. "But we're not supposed to talk about that."

"I'll say it, in here at least." said another. "Young lady, your father rescued an entire Special Forces team. One was already dead, but they got his body out, and the rest of them out alive. Your father covered the retreat. His Corpsman went and grabbed him as some of the rest of us started mowing down the Charlies."

"I dunno how we all got out of that, but he led us in, and he led us out." said the first old man. "Most fearless man I ever met. Here's a toast to your father, ma'am." Everyone toasted and drank, including Teresa, who'd been provided a beer by me.

"All I can say," Teresa said, "is thanks to all of you, and for serving, too. A toast to you all." Everyone clinked mugs and drank beer.

"Mr. Davis," said one man, "what Division were you in?"

"Why, I was in the One-Oh-First Airborne Division." said Mr. Davis with great pride. "The Screaming Eagles."

"To the Screaming Eagles!" said a man.

"The 173d was absorbed into the 101st Airborne after the Viet Nam War." said a man. "So let's sing the 101st song for Mr. Davis, here." There was much acclaim.

"Hey, where's that young Police Commander?" asked Mr. Davis. I was sitting at the bar, trying to be unobtrusive. No such luck.

"Come on over here, Commander!" yelled Mr. Davis. "You're a Paratrooper too, by God." To emphasize the point, two 173d Brigade veterans came over and got me.

"Definitely make him sing." Teresa said. "You guys have fought your wars... he's about to start his."

It does not matter how bad their voices are, or out of key, when old soldiers sing a military song, it somehow comes out sounding just right. And so we sang, remembering those that had fallen in battle, for their comrades, for their country, for Freedom...

We have a rendez-vous with destiny.
Our strength and courage strike the spark,
That will always make men free.
Jump right down through the skies of blue,
keep your eyes on the job to be done.
We're the men of the hundred first,
we'll fight till the battle's won!

Screaming Eagles diving from the sun,
striking boldly from the air.
Now it's time to jump, look out below!
Stand up! Hook up! Screaming Eagles, GO!

We have a rendez-vous with destiny.
Our strength and courage strike the spark,
That will always make men free.
Jump right down through the skies of blue,
keep your eyes on the job to be done.
We're the men of the hundred first,
we'll fight till the battle's won!

As the old men clinked beer glasses and congratulated themselves on their singing, I thought about it. I realized the words to this song were appropriate. I was about to enter battle with the Consultant of Crime, the final battle, and I would have my rendezvous with Destiny.

Here we go...

Finis.