Smoke on the Water Ch. 02

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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Part 8 - Fallen

Dwight Stevens looked crestfallen. Kevin Pitts looked wary. Jack Muscone looked like he'd seen this before.

"I have to ask... in the name of national security," said Stevens, "how much do you know?"

"Just about everything." I replied. "I don't know which gang she was infiltrating, and I know it wasn't the same gang that tried to steal her body from us. That group was The Desert Scorpions, a far more dangerous group than any drug gang out there."

"I've never heard of the Desert Scorpions before." said Kevin Pitts. "Who are they?"

I replied: "They're a small criminal organization that might be better described as a mini-Mob than a drug gang. I've heard of them because I know Raymond Westboro, the Consultant of Crime, created the group. And a very reliable CIA Officer filled in a lot of the details."

"How reliable is that CIA Officer? How well do you know him?" asked Kevin Pitts. "I'm asking for a friend."

"She's a 'she', and I know her better than most." I said with a slight grin. "I go to bed with her every night." Pitts's eyes widened at that.

"His wife, Kevin." said Jack Muscone. "Dr. Laura Fredricson, retired CIA Deputy Director for Science and Technology."

"Oh." said Pitts. "Er, no offense, Commander."

"None taken." I said. "So... who is Elena Katrina? The woman behind the rather poor backstop created for her?"

"Tell them, Dwight." said Jack Muscone.

Stevens nodded, then said "Her real first name is Elena. Her middle name is Katerina, and her real surname is Von Telsing. Her grandparents emigrated from Romania and settled in New York. She went to the University of Virginia, and joined the DEA after graduating four years ago."

Stevens: "She had a good career starting up. She'd go undercover and befriend the wife or girlfriend of Eastern European drug lords, and had gotten us some really good intel without ever getting burned."

I said "She befriends the woman, then the men take interest in her. And maybe she would do some courier work for them. After all, she's just the friend of a wife or mistress of the high-level criminal."

"Okay, okay, I get it. Nothing gets past you." Stevens said. "Yeah, she might work up to some of that, but not always. She was always just the friend of the friend, and a pretty girl to talk to at their big bash parties... and I'm not insinuating anything in that, either. But who attended those parties? Good intel for us." I nodded.

Stevens: "About three months ago, we thought we had the opportunity for her to get in with the mistress of a major Cartel leader in Venezuela, someone who had ties to the Socialist government there as well as other Cartel groups in South America. She made the contact on one of the Caribbean Islands, then was invited to the woman's home in Colombia."

Stevens: "Things were fine for over two months, though Elena got nowhere near anyone in the Cartel from whom she could get any information. Then, two weeks ago, she was asked to courier some messages from the Cartel to a contact right here in your State. Southport. She did. She never came by our offices, following the same protocols as when she was out of country."

Stevens; "She was supposed to fly back two days after she arrived. But she didn't board the flight. And she was not heard from again, neither by her handlers in South America nor in Southport. The first we heard of her since... was yesterday morning, when she turned up dead in this County."

I said "I get it that she was infiltrating high-level Cartel officers. And that's more financial, and more mob-like, than infiltrating a gang that pushes drugs. But as you've probably seen from the autopsy, she died by having her face shoved into a brick or a pile of fentanyl. That was wicked dangerous stuff for even the person pushing her head into the fentanyl to be exposed to, and I just don't see high-level people doing that."

Me: "And my inference is that it was hired hitmen or lower-level drug gang members that killed her and dumped her body in the parking lot, there. So who is on your radar that might've done this?"

Kevin Pitts said: "The major drug gangs in this area are the usual suspects you already know about: T-Mac, The Eighth Street Latinos, and the Smooth White Boys." (Author's note: 'Time Flies', Ch. 03-04.)

Pitts continued: "In Southport, there's a predominately black gang called the Southport Hustlers, but we've never found anything to show they're up here. And why they'd transport a body all the way up the State when they could just dump her into any of the rivers down there, I dunno."

I nodded, then turned to the Chief. "Sir, I'm okay with giving them the capsule and its contents, as long as it's preserved as evidence in our potential murder case."

"So be it, then." said the Chief, and I could sense he was happy with my decision. "I'll put out the worrrrrd to turn it over to yooooo, Mis-ter Stevenzzzzz..."

Part 8 - Getting Schooled

Meanwhile...

9:00am, Tuesday, November 10th. The students of Eastside Elementary filed into the lunchroom. It had a stage on one end, meaning the room doubled as an auditorium.

After the students had filed in and were seated, a woman in her thirties with raven black hair and a blue-gray dress that fit very well on her slender, shapely body came up on stage. "Hello, kids. I'm Mrs. Dalmore with the State P.T.A., and we have a special treat for you today. Who knows what 'genealogy' is?"

You get one guess who raised her hand, and that guess had better be 'Carole D. Troy', who was at the end of the front table right in front of the center of the stage. Mrs. Dalmore gestured to her and Carole said "It's about who our an-ces-tors are."

"That's very good." Mrs. Dalmore said. "And that's what we're going to learn about today, our ancestors. Did everyone bring their forms this morning? Okay, pass those to the right and we'll collect them. And then I'll introduce our special guest."

Kids began passing their papers to the right, and four young, very well-dressed men (suits and ties) and women (well-tailored dresses and high heels) collected them. The aforementioned Carole D. Troy did not pass her paper to the side, but held on to it.

Mrs. Dalmore said "Our guest is Mr. Bernie C. Parker, who created the company 'Ancestor Discovery' and the software that finds and tells you who your ancestors are, and all your family. Maybe even relatives you didn't know you had. So everyone give Mr. Parker a very loud round of applause!" She began clapping and many of the children applauded rather loudly for Bernie C. Parker as he came on stage.

Bernie C. Parker looked to be in his vigorous fifties or harassed forties; it was the latter. He had two graying tufts of hair on the sides of his head, making his appearance a cross between the 'Pointy-Haired Boss' in the Dilbert cartoons and 'Crusty the Clown' in The Simpsons animated show. He was relatively short and slender, with just the beginnings of a paunch in his belly.

Unlike his well-dressed young employees, he was wearing a pale yellow button-down shirt, tan sweater, and brown trousers, making him look like an amiable grandfather or a retired mobster on vacation in the Hamptons.

"Hello, kids!" he said amiably. "Today we're going to talk about who you are and where you came from. All of you have parents, grandparents..."

As he talked, a tall, attractive woman that could be described as 'statuesque', with her black hair pulled back into a ponytail, came up to Carole's side and squatted down. "Is he the one?" Joan Laurer whispered to Carole.

"Yes ma'am." Carole whispered back. "And Mrs. Dalmore. She's part of it, too." That surprised Joan, but it made sense as she thought about it.

The Principal, teachers, and Mrs. Dalmore were looking at Joan as she stood up straight, took the piece of paper from Carole, and came around to the stairs to the stage from the audience's left side. She quickly texted a few messages.

"Okay," said Mr. Parker, sitting down behind a laptop that had been set up for him on the stage. "Why don't we take a few of the forms you turned in, and I'll run the information through our program, and... oh, hello."

"Hello Mr. Parker." said the man that had come up behind him and was now standing next to him. "My name is Parker, also. Teddy Parker. Do you think you and I are related, sir?"

"Why... uh... I don't know." said Bernie Parker, trying to regain his composure, and control of the situation. "Why don't we run your info, and see what we come up with? Would you like to see that, kids? And see if Mr. Teddy Parker is related to me?"

Many of the children cheered, but just then Joan Laurer walked up to the Parkers. "I'm Ms. Laurer, and I have a better idea, sir." she said. "Why don't you take a look at this one." She handed him the form she'd taken from Carole, which read on the father's side:

"Title (Mr., Dr.): Commander
First Name: Donald
Last Name: Troy
Occupation: Police Detective
Nicknames, if any: The Iron Crowbar"

Bernie Parker paled, then said "What... what is this?"

"It's fair warning." Joan Laurer said. "It's letting you know we are taking you to the Police Station for further questioning about a series of identity theft and credit card fraud cases."

As she spoke, she took Bernie Parker's laptop and handed it back to Myron Milton, who very quickly plugged it up to his own device that would transfer all its data as well as prevent it from shutting down and being behind password protection.

"Now just a minute!" Bernie protested. He stopped talking when Teddy Parker exhibited a document.

"This is a warrant to confiscate your computer, cell phone, and other personal effects; as well as to delve into your personal and professional records." said Teddy. "And to bring you in as a person of interest in our investigation. And yes, that does mean you are under arrest, and don't have a choice about coming with us."

Meanwhile, Joan had gone over to where the shocked Principal, other teachers, and Mrs. Dalmore were standing, utter shock on their faces. "You too, Mrs. Dalmore." Joan said as she deftly turned Mrs. Dalmore around and secured her wrists behind her in standard Police-issue handcuffs. They were soon joined by the company employees, which had been arrested by the TCPD Officers at the scene, and the forms of information taken into evidence...

Part 10 - Threads and Trails

11:00am, Tuesday, November 10th. Lieutenants Myron and Mary Milton were in my office with me, drinking coffee as we discussed the drug case and its related issues. Let the record show that Mary's hair was metallic red.

"So we're giving the DEA that capsule that was found during the autopsy." I said. "FBI Special Agent in Charge Ashton Cardigan's team will decode it. The Sheriff has already told them that the cipher was in the original Klingon."

Myron laughed and said "With respect, sir, I think the Sheriff just loved it when he saw that and was able to tell us what it was."

"Yes. Yes he did." I said. "And he's still a very good Detective, though he admits it's a young man's game... or young woman's game, as the case may be. I just wanted to let you know, and to tell you that I did not turn over your work to them."

They both nodded, then looked at each other. Then Mary said "Sir, may we speak freely?"

I took my badge off my shirt and put it on the desk, as did they. Then Mary said "Sir, Myron and I have been talking about it, and we wanted to clarify some things. We both appreciate your support of us with regard to having to work with the Feds. But I need to say, and I think Myron will agree, that we're not against our work being shared with the Feds. Especially in a case like this, where a DEA Agent was murdered, and in a horrible way. I want her killers found as much as anyone."

Mary: "What I objected to, sir... and this is why I asked to speak freely... was being ordered, forced, to work with, or more accurately for Federal Agents that I did not trust at all; and then being told I would be charged with insubordination and fired if I refused. Hopefully that problem is over for me, though I don't know if it is for Myron."

Myron: "It's the same with me, sir. I had no problem working with Dr. Fredricson the other day; heck, I learned some good things from her. But I won't take orders from Federal Agents nor be forced to work directly for them in any way. And I won't accept being ordered to do that and be called insubordinate when I refuse."

I nodded. "I get it. I totally understand. And I appreciate you working with Laura on that. Hell, Myron, she was telling you more CIA stuff than she tells me."

I picked up my badge, and as I put it on my shirt I said "So don't worry about it, guys. The Chief and I both have your backs on this. And I appreciate you understanding if and when we do have to work with the Feds, and share information with them. Soooo... anything new on all that?"

Mary said "Before we stop talking freely sir, does Captain Michaels have a problem with us calling Halston 'Ranger Halston'? She seemed upset about it the other day when I called him that."

"She better not." I said. "Or I might send her to Ranger School, and let her find out the hard way what Ranger Halston accomplished. You'll notice that no one calls me 'Ranger Troy', and there's a good reason for that. Just between the three of us, even when I was 22 years old I don't think I would've made it through Ranger School."

I think that surprised the Mighty Miltons, so Mary simply said: "Okay, about the case. First, 'Ice Cube' Perry touched base with some people. And Ranger Halston has been working hard on the data, and he's made some calls to contacts he has from his military days. He did not mention the Desert Scorpions, of course, and he never heard their name mentioned."

Mary: "But both he and 'Ice Cube' did pick up a few tidbits here and there. Halston was told of a drug gang that might've been involved with this by several different people, and they all said the same name for the gang: Infinity Circle."

"Say whaaa?" I said with a falsetto voice. Then I said much more seriously: "They were a front, for the DEA, and they've been shut down... haven't they?"

"As far as we know, sir." Mary said meaningfully. "And what's more: we cannot get anything at all, not even a scrap of a rumor, that the drug gangs working in the Tri-State Area around here have anything to do with this. No chatter, no rumors and innuendo, no discussion of missing fentanyl that might be associated with the amount that Elena Katrina's face was pressed into."

"And what's more, sir," Mary went on, "Both Terry (Halston) and 'Ice Cube' worked with Penny Scott and Sidney Plant to evaluate Intel's data. And they came to a startling conclusion. They're don't think that a drug gang is involved at all."

"So who just has a brick's worth of fentanyl lying around-------" I began to ask.

*KNOCK!* *KNOCK!* *KNOCK!* *KNOCK!*

The door opened to reveal Chief Moynahan. "Sorry to disturrrrb you, Mis-ter Crowbarrrr," he said, "but you and I have an important meeting with PHO Beth Paige, right nowwwww."

"Yes sir." I said, having gotten up already. To the Miltons I said "We'll continue this line of discussion later. Y'all are doing great work, and tell everyone else they're doing well, also..."

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

The Public Health Building was next to Police Headquarters, to the north and more directly behind City Hall. The Chief and I walked over, and the Chief set a very brisk pace that had me working to keep up.

"It would seeeeeemmmm," drawled the Chief as we walked, "that Ms. Paige got word of our investigation, for lack of a better word, of them sending the four-man rather than the two-man team, and she is pee-ohhhhed about it. That's all she said on the phone. I asked for her to have us visit, and she said she'd give us a few minutes before lunch."

"I haven't even had a chance to check back with Jerome Davis on that." I said. "So I'm flying blind for now, sir."

We went in and to the office of Public Health Officer Beth Paige. "She'll be with you in a moment, gentlemen." said her pretty assistant. The Chief sat down. I pulled out my Police iPhone, went to the far corner of the room, and speed-dialed Jerome Davis.

"Jerome, this is Commander Troy." I said when he answered. "I've only got a few seconds, so quickly, what happened with the HAZMAT investigation?"

"Sir," Jerome said, speaking fast, "Coleman and Newman could not find Walter Walton last night. An APB was put out for him, but he wasn't found until he reported for work this morning at the Dispatch Center. Coleman and Newman went over there to talk to him, but he immediately demanded a Union Rep, and would answer no questions without one present."

"Did they arrest him?" I asked. "Bring him to Headquarters?"

"No sir." said Davis. "They asked him to come to the Station, and said he could call his rep or a lawyer there. But he demanded they show a warrant for his arrest or else he wasn't going anywhere with them. At that moment, Assistant PHO Stella Waters came in and demanded our guys show a warrant or get out. Coleman and Newman left, and called me immediately and reported what happened. You and Captain Michaels were meeting with the Federal Agents, so I went straight to the Chief with the story."

"That's fine." I said. "Get Coleman and Newman and at least two Uniformed Officers, and go back to that facility. I'm sure I'm about to pay that snit Walton a personal visit soooon."

After disconnecting the call, I went back to where the Chief was. After a couple more minutes, he looked at his watch and then scrambled out of his chair and went up to the assistant and said "You can tell Ms. Paige that I do not appreciate her wasting my time having us sit out here. And I especially don't like the Iron Crowbar's time being wasted like this when he has, what, three? three criminal cases to solllllve. So Ms. Paige can see me at Police Headquarters... or the Sheriff's office."

The receptionist had been smirking at the Chief, and I was considering wiping that smirk off her face by slamming her face into the desk, when the landline phone buzzed. "They can come in now." I heard Beth's voice on the intercom. The assistant merely waved her hand at the door instead of showing us in, which would've been the correct and good-manners thing to do. The Chief's face reddened. I glared at the woman as I went by, and she glared back.

We went into the office of Beth Paige, who did not get up to greet us, nor did she offer us coffee or water. She said "I'm only letting you in here to tell you to leave my Dispatch Supervisor alone. He's done nothing wrong, and the Police harassment of him is unwarranted. Leave him alone, or I'll go to the IG with a formal complaint, and I'll have a lawyer sue the living hell out of you."

"And I came here to talk about that situation with yooooo." drawled the Chief, keeping his voice level. "May we sit down."

"You're not going to be here that long." Beth Paige replied. "There's nothing to discuss."

"Yes there is." I said. "Obstructing a Police investigation, for openers.