Town & County Confidential Ch. 01

"As if they were coached?" asked Chief Moynahan.

"Possibly, sir." said Tanya.

"Anyone notice anything I'd consider to be a 'strangeness'?" I asked. It had become the stuff of legend that if I called something a 'strangeness', then it was something to be paid attention to.

"I don't know if this qualifies to that level, sir," said Julia Rodriguez, "but I'm noticing that all of the places on the Southside were very limited in their camera coverage. We're getting what happens at the counter, but not in the rest of the store. So if there's something else going on, we would not have seen it. By way of contrast, the northside store had better coverage and a one-way mirror, and less money was taken. The employees were college-age kids, as opposed to shop owners with skin in the game."

"I agree." I said. "My daughter has a book with puzzles that says 'one of these things is not like the others'. Which one of these robberies is not like the others?"

"We should ask your daughter, sir!" Lieutenant Rudistan said most jovially. Indeed, my seven-year-old daughter Carole already had a badge, as an Honorary Auxiliary Detective. She had already been credited with observations that led to a $400 million drug bust (Author's note: 'Schoolhouse Rock'.), and had declared that her goal and destiny was to be the next Iron Crowbar.

"We don't need howitzer cannon brainpower for this one, Mr. Rudistan." I replied with a grin.

"The point, I was going to make, "said Julia, not happy that the conversation was being taken from her, "is that we're going to need eyeballs or better video coverage to see anything else. We'll need, stakeouts, sir."

"I agree." I said. "Lieutenant Mary Milton, has Intel come up with anything regarding potential future robberies?"

"Maybe, sir." said Mary Milton. Her husband Myron Milton was the I.T. Lieutenant; hence, my use of her first name. "Our C.I.s have nothing, so far, but they're going to ask around and see what they get. In the meantime, Intel Branch came up with this."

Having plugged her computer into the dock on the table, Mary brought up a map of the Town & County on the matrix of monitors on the wall. There were green and blue dots all over it.

She said "Just about every street corner in the Town & County has a convenience store on it. There are 74 such stores in the County. We've narrowed down possible future targets to these 14 stores represented by green dots. They're mostly in the Hispanic areas, and they are the most similar to the four Southside stores that have been hit so far."

"No way to narrow them down further?" asked Captain Muscone, her voice accusing. She and Lieutenant Mary Milton had issues: Tanya was married to a Federal Agent, and expected Mary to work to help the Feds as well as the TCPD. But Mary hated Federal Agents after they beat up and nearly murdered her father-in-law, Myron's father (Author's note: 'Falsely Accused', Ch. 02-03.), and Mary refused to help the Feds in any way. I worked hard to keep their simmering feud from exploding.

"This is what the algorithms came up with." said Mary, not saying 'ma'am' like she should have. "Hispanic ownership or in Hispanic areas. Proximity to the locations already robbed. Videocamera coverage or lack of it. My Intel people worked hard on this, and narrowing this list down to 14 is pretty good."

"Send this, and the analysis behind it, to me." Tanya said, as an order. Mary's eyes flickered over to me.

"Send it to me." I said. "I'll determine who to disseminate it to. We'll discuss it later, Captain. And yes, Lt. Milton, tell Intel they have done good work on this, and that I appreciate it. Okay, moving on-------"

"Sir, I have some more." said Mary Milton. I nodded to her, and she said "Intel has been using the Kaleidoscope program to review footage of street cameras in the areas of the stores that were robbed, as well as the 14 convenience stores we've targeted as possible future targets, to see if we can detect any cars that might have been casing all the stores. So far, only one vehicle has been identified as showing up multiple times in the areas of all five previous robberies. It was pretty easy to spot."

She showed several photographs on the monitor. "No wonder it's easy to spot. " said Teresa Croyle. "It's s Town & County Police cruiser."

"Any idea who is assigned that Police cruiser?" asked Chief Moynahan.

"Yes sir." Mary said. "But I thought we'd give the Iron Crowbar the shot at the title."

"And that one's easier than beating all of you in the Police Boxing Matches." I said, starting some 'trouble' with that remark. Then I continued: "It's the vehicle assigned to the dirtiest and slipperiest Officer on the Police Force: Justin Hendricks."

Justin Hendricks was tall, with sparse black hair on his head, almost like the top of an unpeeled onion. His corpulent body was a pear shape, and he barely passed the Police physicals. His name constantly came up in association with other Officers that were shown to be dirty, but we never could pin him down with enough proof to fire him. And the Police Union protected him and fought for him as if their very lives were at stake... and who knows, I thought to myself, maybe their lives really were at stake.

"Yes sir." said Mary Milton. "And Hendricks every parked at one of the places and went in, and bought snacks. And by the way, sir, I agree with you about the Police Boxing Matches."

"Good asskissing skills." said the Sheriff, his mustaches quivering with merriment.

"But not very smart to say that in my presence." growled two-time Police Boxing Matches Champion Teresa Croyle.

"Nor mine." said the current Police Boxing Matches Champion, Joan Laurer. It was always 'awn' where the Police Boxing Matches were concerned.

"You still can't beat me in the wheelchair races, Commander." said Captain Tanya Muscone with a wicked grin. "Anyway, with all this information, I think we have enough to pick some places for stakeouts, working with the Feds on their drug surveillance operations."

"No." said Lt. Commander Teresa Croyle with surprising vehemence in her voice. "We are not doing any stakeouts tonight, either with the Feds or without them."

"Why not?" asked Tanya, shocked at Teresa's vehemence.

"Because I said so." Teresa replied with alacrity.

In the awkward silence of the room, Teresa continued: "We are nowhere near ready to begin operations like that, and I will not commit TCPD Officers to stakeouts at this point."

"Not even to help the DEA?" Tanya said. "They're ready to go."

"Especially not to help the DEA." Teresa said strongly. "Let me be clear, Captain. Forget the Police Boxing Matches. I have been awarded six... six!... Purple Orders for being wounded in the line of duty, and the first four of those came from participating in drug raids and interdictions where piss-poor planning, lack of information, and failed leadership led to unnecessary risk. And I'll be damned if I'm going to have my Police Officers being wounded or worse, or even exposed to danger based upon our lack of knowledge and the DEA's desire to put citations on their walls."

"And that will be the final word on the subject." I said quickly. "We'll continue to develop information tonight and through tomorrow. In the meantime, we have other things going on for tonight. Rudistan, you will be talking with Commander Croyle to get your people's assignments. The rest of you get back to work. Mary, send me that analysis..."

Part 6 - Surveillance and Raids

5:45pm, Wednesday, October 7th. Mary Milton sent me an email with the analysis, which I immediately forwarded to Tanya Muscone. Some moments later, I heard that unmistakable sound:

*Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrr*

It was followed by Captain Muscone driving into my office and parking on the dime. "Sir," she said, holding up her badge, "can we speak freely?"

"Always." I said, taking my badge off and putting on the desk, as did she. "Whassup?"

"I know why you had Milton send that data to you. Because she wouldn't have sent it to me." Tanya said. "But what is Commander Croyle's problem with us working with the DEA?"

"She told you." I said simply. "Six Purple Orders. No one is more aware of the risks of these type operations. Teresa is limitlessly brave, and she knows that we walk into danger all the time. But she's not going to go into a dangerous situation where she sees problems like the situation we have now."

"And this is where I need to speak freely." Tanya said. "It sounded like she did not want to work with the DEA, that they were the problem. Is that the case?"

"No, she really wants more data on exactly what we're supposed to be staking out." I replied. "And Tanya, it's ME that has the problem with working with the Feds on this."

"Why?" Tanya asked. "you don't trust Jack?"

"I trust Jack, but he's not the DEA." I said. "Who I no longer trust is Dwight Stevens. And since we're speaking off the record here, I'm just going to tell you that he has exhausted my immense storage of patience with him. There is no reason for him to not be telling me, or at least the Chief and Sheriff, why they want to do these stakeouts, and have us doing them, and rush into it pell-mell like they're trying to do. Teresa's right on this. And Stevens has to come correct with me... or he's not getting my help."

"So if he comes correct with you and gives you more data, you'll work with him and the DEA?" she asked.

"Maybe." I said. "But not tonight..."

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

It's a tough world we're living in. And Russ Ferrament knows that the only way to survive is to be the toughest. I have to let the criminals and the Press know that I'm the alpha-dog, and if that means whipping some asses, then that's what I have to do.

9:30pm, Wednesday, October 7th. Maritza lay on the bed underneath the sweating, naked fat man as he pumped his three inch cock in and out of her. She looked up to see his droopy brown mustache and full head of reddish-brown hair, and his closed eyes between them as he fucked her, trying desperately to get his nut.

"Move your ass, Puta!" he grunted. "What the fuck am I paying you for?" Maritza groaned and moved her hips a little bit, but the man was still not happy.

"What the fuck, bitch?" he said angrily. "You're getting the best cock in the County! All the other girls ask for Barney by name, and they love getting my turkeyneck!"i

"Vete a la mierda con uno de ellos, entonces." Maritza spat in Spanish. (Go fuck one of them, then.) She moved her hips, causing Barney's three inch stub to fall out of her loose pussy.

"Shit!" Barney grunted. He reached down to grab his cock, and the condom slipped off; it was too big for his small size. He began trying to re-insert it into Maritza.

"¡Parar! ¡Vuelve a ponerte el condón!" Maritza said, moving her hips to prevent the fat white man from penetrating her again.

"You goddamned whore!" Barney yelled. He raised his hand to slap her.

*WHAM!*

"POLICE!"

The door had flown open after being rammed, and two Police Officers in heavy armor came into the room, pointing M-4s at them. Both Barney and Maritza were handcuffed, their arms behind their backs. Barney's wallet was confiscated from his pants, which were then put on him. Maritza was clothed in what amounted to a hospital gown.

They were marched down the hallway and down the stairs and out the back door into the parking lot. Barney was put in one Town & County Police paddywagon with other johns and the men that had been running the whorehouse. Maritza was put in the other paddywagon with the other prostitutes that had been arrested.

The place was the same strip joint where Carlos Madura and his criminal cohort had been arrested for murder. (Author's note: 'The Babymaker', Ch. 05.) The Police raid had been fast, and it had been devastating to those in the bar. Everyone there was arrested; we'd sort out the trash at County Jail...

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

The women were taken to The Old Mill, which was 2nd Precinct Headquarters. They were placed in a large cell together, and given orange t-shirts and gym shorts, and flip-flops if they didn't have shoes. After being run through booking, fingerprinted, retinal scans taken, and cheek swabs for DNA after being 'persuaded' to consent, they were interviewed one by one by Spanish-speaking Officers.

Commander Cindy Ross was a platinum blonde with ice-blue eyes, a natural-born American that was raised in Canada and had dual citizenship... and she could speak Spanish very well. She was interviewing Maritza, which will be presented in English here:

"My brother and I crossed the border in Arizona." Maritza said. "We had hoped to reach the farms in California and find work, no matter how hard or menial. And all was well, at first, except that the Coyotes that brought us across raped me and the other women in the group. Several men, several times over three days."

Maritza: "Then something happened. Another group of men held up our Coyotes, at gunpoint. They used the plastic ties to secure our hands. My brother and many of the others were put in a big semi truck and driven away. I have not seen him again."

Maritza: "Me and a few of the women were put in a van. The windows were covered so we could not see out. We were driven a long way. When we stopped, we were at a house, in the garage. We were taken into the house, and used for sex all that night."

Maritza: "The next day, we were told that we would be able to make money, as whores for the Cartel that had kidnapped us. They told us we could buy our freedom after a year working for them. Of course I was horrified, but we had no choice."

Maritza: "We were put in another van, and they did not cover the windows. I could see that we were in Oklahoma. We stopped for gas, and one of the girls tried to run. They caught her quickly, and beat her. Some time later we stopped at a deserted place. They took the girl that ran a ways off the road, and one of them put a gun to the back of her head and shot her, as if she were a dog." Maritza became emotional for a moment.

After she recovered, she said: "The rest of us were brought here, to this Town. We were told that if we ever tried to escape, we would be shot like that other girl was. We were in a building with no windows, but not the one you raided tonight. And then we were prostituted out for fifty dollars a trick."

Maritza: "Many of the men that... hired me were students at the University. One or two came by regularly, so I tried to talk to them and asked them to help me get away. It was not long after I began trying to escape that the Cartel's men came in. They beat me very badly, then took me to the building where you found me tonight. I have no idea how much time had passed, but I had not left that room from the day I was brought to it."

Cindy said "That's awful, but we can help you now. Ask for political asylum, and we can hold you until the Immigration Service takes you in. Did they force you to take drugs?"

"Yes." said Maritza. "They kept me hooked. If I did not perform well for them, they'd deny me my daily fix. It was really bad. Yes, I want asylum, please..."

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

County Jail, 11:30pm, Wednesday, October 7th. DEA Supervisory Special Agent Dwight Stevens and DEA Special Agent Kevin Pitts came into the facility with FBI Special Agent in Charge Jack Muscone. They were brought into the Conference Room, where I was sitting with Lt. Commander Teresa Croyle and Precinct Captain Hugh Hewitt.

"What the fuck." Stevens said, more as a statement than a question. "You knew we had The Eighth Street Latinos under surveillance, and you raided them anyway."

"No, I didn't know that." I replied. "All you told us was that some of the convenience store robbery names matched names in your drug intel. You didn't tell us anyone was under surveillance. And besides, you're looking into the drugs. We busted their operation of kidnapping women and forcing them into prostitution."

"Whaa?" gasped Kevin Pits. "I never heard about that aspect of the gang." I realized from the tone of his voice that he'd not been told everything, either.

Jack Muscone said "The FBI was aware of it, but we didn't know enough to interdict it. And I didn't want to step on your drug operations. And Commander Troy is right, Dwight. We weren't forthcoming with him, even after he called you out earlier."

"So you raided them, just to make a point, huh?" Stevens said to me, his voice ugly. "And now they'll lay low at best, and move their whole operation out of this County at worst.

"Like I've got fucking time to intentionally screw up your operations." I replied witheringly. "And if The Eighth Street Latinos did pack up and leave my County, I won't call that a bad thing."

"So why did you call us to come down here?" Jack Muscone asked.

"We've arrested a good number of gang members." I said. "If you guys want to take any of them off our hands, now's your chance."

"But we don't have enough to take any of them to Court!" Dwight Stevens exclaimed. "You jumped the gun too fast!"

"We can still take them into custody and question them." said Muscone. "And then turn them over to ICE... unless you want to prosecute them, Don."

I shrugged. "A lot of them are going to be let go, unless you claim them." I said. "They were in the bars, and only a few of them were running the prostitution rooms. We're having the women identify their pimps out of lineups on pieces of paper, but the rest of them will likely be let go... and they will indeed be made to realize that it would be good to never be seen in my County again..."

Part 7 - Good Cops and Bad Judges

4:30am, Thursday, October 8th. I received a call from Deputy Chief Cindy Ross. "Don," she said, "Judge Harry Nance is bringing the mobile Court to the Old Mill, and is going to give all the women we've arrested their hearings immediately."

The mobile Court was just that: a box truck that contained a judge's bench and desks behind it, where a judge could hold Court at any site. It had been used by Superior Court Judge Rodney K. Watts to process arrested perps after riots the previous summer. It was also being used to process people arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct at football games, mostly fans of the visiting teams.

Superior Court Judge Harry R. Nance was not only one of the most activist judges in the State, he very often colluded with the Press, corrupt lawyers, and the criminals against the Police. He was instrumental in exposing undercover Police Officers like J.J. Perry, putting them in danger of losing their lives. He often released criminals and dropped charges on a whim and on sham accusations of Police misconduct. He had been referred to the State Legislature for Impeachment, but activist Democrats had blocked the right thing from being done.

I drove down to The Old Mill. Sr. Patrolman Johnson, the Officer at the gate said "Sir, just to let you know: Judge Nance just arrived and said that no one was allowed in, especially you. But he doesn't have a crowbar, sir. Just please forget my name if he asks, sir."

I chuckled, then said: "Yeah, I've never met you before, young Rookie. Thanks for the warning." I drove on inside.

When I went into the Precinct Headquarters, some idiot called the Police Force to attention. "Carry on!" I said as they came to attention.

As Cindy Ross approached, I said, "Who did that, calling the Force to attention?"

"You get one guess, Don, and it should be 'Hendricks'." Cindy said.

"Fuck." I said "He did it to alert Nance that I'm here. Where is that dirty judge, anyway?"

"In the mobile Court truck." said Cindy. "It's parked behind the building." Then she said "Sir, I have a bad feeling about what's going on. May I offer a suggestion..."