Case of the Fake Badges Ch. 02

"She made an EEOC complaint." said Kreuger. "They moved her to another office, under different management, gave her her raise, and pulled the bad reviews. They were going to uphold the complaint against Norris, saying he racially discriminated against her, but he got a lawyer and filed a reverse discrimination lawsuit. In the settlement, no negative remarks were put into his file, and in exchange for his resignation he was given a severance package of a year's salary and his bonus."

"And let's note here," I said, "that they made sure to get him to resign."

"Yes sir." said Krueger. "And after that, he struggled to find work. According to tax records, he worked in construction, then got a security guard job at the Cannon Building in the City. He left that position to come to our Town, where he and Ben Knight formed their two-man security company."

"How did Knight and Norris meet?" asked Tanya Perlman.

"No idea, ma'am." said Krueger.

"If I may, ma'am," said Rudistan, "during his questioning, Mr. Knight said he met Norris when Norris was a security guard at one of T-Square's clubs, and they got to talking about his job and one thing led to another."

"Which is a total fabrication." I said absentmindedly, in a near-reverie again. "Not how they met, but that they met in T-Square's club. I'd suggest they met in the Cannon Building in the City when Norris was working there. Okay, anyone find out anything about Bonita Bishop, Quintus Bishop's ex-wife?"

I was met with an awkward silence. Then Myron finally spoke up: "I'm not admitting defeat, sir, but I need time to dig deeper."

"That hard, huh?" I said, almost jovially.

"Yes sir." said Myron, very seriously. "We have nothing at all. I asked the FBI when I asked about Norris and Knight, and they got back to me and said she was off the grid, that they had nothing at all, not even tax returns, since she divorced Quintus."

"That is hard to do." said Cindy. "Is she still alive?"

"The FBI believes that she is, but that she's staying off the grid." said Myron. "If I may say this in confidence, which means none of you should speak of this outside of this room... their actions suggest to me that that she might be working undercover for the FBI or is a Confidential Informant of some kind."

"Except that Captain Ross and I are FBI Consultants," I said, "and they would tell us so that we could assist in not blowing her cover. So there's something much deeper about this. Myron, take the time you need to do your usual excellent job of gathering data. In the meantime, re-issue the APB for Norris, State-wide, with an Urgency Alert attached. I fear for his safety. I fear for his safety."

"I also need you, David," I said to Krueger, "to start trying to correlate Norris's past, Knight's past, Quintus Bishop's past, Bonita Bishop's past... I have a feeling there are relationships there that are important, but that we simply haven't found yet. You might look into racial issues, but don't let that cloud your overall gathering of data--"

Just then there was a knock on the door, and my assistant Helena poked her head in. "Sir," she said, "there is an urgent phone call for you." I knew that Helena personally coming down and saying that meant that it was... urgent indeed.

Going into my office, I took the call. It was SBI Reserve Director Tom Conlan. After polite greetings were exchanged, he came to the point:

"You're looking for a Richard Norris?" he asked.

"Yes sir." I said. "And I have the feeling you're about to tell me bad news about him."

"Not much gets by you, Commander." said Conlan. "Norris was just found dead on the University-Midtown Highway, just south of Coltrane County, in Hamilton County. Consider yourself and Captain Ross deputized into the SBI Reserve..."

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

"He was found here, dumped on the side of the road." said Trooper Smith of the State Patrol. Richard Norris's body had been removed already, but there were still some dark splotches where he had bled onto the ground by the highway."

"Dumped, you think?" I asked.

"Yes sir." said Trooper Jones, Smith's partner. "There was no car parked within miles, there's no car parts or debris that would suggest a car hit him, and the Hamilton County Coroner said they saw no massive trauma suggesting a car hitting the man."

"Sounds reasonable." I said. "Thanks, guys. Captain, let's go look at the body."

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

"The M.E. is just about to start the autopsy." said the Coroner as we arrived inside the Hamilton County Morgue. "You're welcome to watch it with us."

We put on Tyvex paper suits over our clothes and were allowed into the examining room, as opposed to kept behind glass in our own County. Then the Sheriff escorted us in.

"Tanya will be soooo disappointed that she wasn't here for this." Cindy said.

"Yep." I said as I watched the M.E. work. Richard Norris had been tall, once lean but putting on weight, and had brown hair. His face was unexceptional in its features, except that it looked haggard, tired out by the harshness of Life.

As the M.E. examined the body, he said to his assistant "Help me roll him over." Once Norris was lying on his belly, I could see some bruising on his neck and upper shoulders and back. But the M.E. waved me in to look at something else.

"See this?" he asked, pointing to a small hole in the base of Norris's neck. "It's a puncture wound. It looks like a very large hypodermic needle was injected at this point."

"Can you see if it goes up into the brain?" I asked. The M.E took a thin plastic wire and began threading it into the hole, carefully and slowly. "Yes sir," he said after some minutes, "the needle was pushed up into the lower brain. We'll do tests to see if anything was injected."

"We saw something like this before, Captain Ross." I said. "Dr. Paul Wicker, in our home County." (Author's note: The Medical Murder Mystery, beginning of Chapter 5)

"Ah yes." Cindy said. Everyone else in the room looked stunned.

"Sheriff," I said, "I'll send you reports of that crime, to see if it helps you." I told the Hamilton County Sheriff.

"I'd appreciate it, Commander." said the Sheriff. "And maybe you can look at one other thing. This was found in the man's shirt pocket. No prints on it." He handed me an clear plastic evidence bag. Inside was a badge.

I had latex gloves on, so I opened the bag and took the badge out. It was round, with an eagle on top an ornament below, the same as the State Housing Authority. But that badge had the Scales of Justice as the Seal in the middle on a silver background, while this badge had the Scales on a black background. The wording read "State Bureau of Prisons" with the title "Watch Captain" under the eagle.

"Looks a bit nicked up." I said. "As if issued and worn for some time. Sheriff, do you have an RFID reader?"

"No sir." said the Sheriff.

"Our SBI App on our iPhones has one." said Cindy. Taking hers, she put it close to the back of the badge and pressed a button on her iPhone.

"Whaddya know, Commander." she said. "Your old friend Captain Lockhart of the Jacksonville State Prison."

Cindy and I took photos of the badge before returning it to the Sheriff. After getting the report of the rest of the autopsy, we made our goodbyes and headed back towards home. As I drove, Cindy was using the onboard computer.

"Lockhart is still assigned to Jacksonville State Prison." she said. "But he has been on loan to The Asylum for the past two months while they transfer prisoners and rebuild parts of the facility."

"Contact the Warden." I said. "Ask him to bring Lockhart to the Sheriff's office in Buford. There is no way in hell I'm going inside the gates of the Asylum again without a full armored military battalion backing me up."

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

"Hi, Captain Ross!" Deputy Strait said excitedly as Cindy and I got to the Sheriff's office. "I really appreciate those tickets to Dr. Eckhart's seminar you got for me. It was really great, and he's an incredible speaker... and he even talked to me one-on-one for a few minutes!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Cindy said. "Are the other people here?"

"Oh yes ma'am... oh, hi Commander Troy!" Deputy Strait said. He'd not noticed me, as he was totally preoccupied by Cindy's presence.

"Hello, Deputy." I said. "Hello, Sheriff. How are you doing?"

"Just fine, Commander." Sheriff Sorrells said. "So what's this all about?"

"Well, come on inside and you'll see." I said. We all went inside the conference room, where the Warden of the Asylum prison was sitting with Watch Captain Lockhart.

"Well, look who came to visit me." said Lockhart with a sneer, his voice sounding like the hick he looked to be. He and I remembered each other all too well from the Lance Priemus execution. (Author's note: Dream Within A Dream)

"So, Captain, Warden, thank you for coming." I said. "I'll get right into it, so as not to waste your time. Captain, may we examine your badge?"

"My whuuh?!?!" Lockhart said, stunned.

"Your badge." I said. "I'll explain all in a moment."

"Let him see your badge, Lockhart." said the Warden. Lockhart removed his badge from his shirt. I looked at it under the magnifying glass, then passed it to Cindy, who looked at it under the glass, and also used her iPhone to read the RFID chip in it.

"It's the real thing." she said. "Assigned to Watch Captain Lockhart, State Bureau of Prisons."

"Lockhart, is this your only badge?" I asked as I handed it back to him.

"I've got another one on my cold weather jacket." Lockhart said. "It's in the car." Cindy had Deputy Strait go with her to check the other jacket.

"No others?" I asked. "You didn't misplace one or have it stolen, and this is a replacement for it?"

"No." said Lockhart, looking confused. "What's this all about?"

"Yes." said the Warden. "Is something going on with these badges?"

"The reason we're asking," I said, "is because a badge identical to yours was found down in Hamilton County, also with a legitimate RFID chip. It was found on the dead body of a man by the side of the highway going to Midtown. That man was being sought by my County's police in connection with a murder. Warden, how many badges do you issue your guards?"

"Just two, normally." said the Warden. "Usually one on the uniform shirt, one on an outerwear jacket. I wear mine on my belt like plainclothes police officers do."

"Do you make duplicates in case someone loses a badge?"

"Oh, noooo." said the Warden. "Losing a badge is a serious situation. It has to be reported and investigated before a replacement is given out."

Just then Cindy and Strait came back in. "Badge on the jacket is legit." she said.

"So now that we've established that you are in possession of your badges, Captain Lockhart," I said, "can you think of any reason why someone would duplicate your badge?"

"Naw." said Lockhart, looking bored but also as if he were getting one over on us... or more specifically, me.

"Is there anything else, Commander?" asked the Warden.

"Not at the moment." I said. "But as I said, there is a murder investigation going on, and Watch Captain Lockhart's badge was found on the dead person's body. While I don't want to harass him, it may be necessary for me or others in the SBI to talk to him from time to time. We appreciate your cooperation today." As I got up to go, Lockhart couldn't resist.

"You never found out who put Priemus to death so painfully, did you, Mr. Iron Crowbar?" he sneered. Cindy turned as if she were going to attack him, but I prevailed with calm.

"Didn't I." I replied, my eyes boring into him. "And I'll tell you this, Lockhart: whoever did that to Priemus... is the person that left your badge on his latest victim's body. Think about that, Lockhart. Maybe your friends... aren't."

As we drove home, Cindy said "The badge on his shirt was new. The one on the jacket was older, and a bit more like the one found on Norris's body."

"Yep." I said. "Just like Louise Belfort's badges. What do you think of all this?"

"I am going to make like a Police Commander," said Cindy in a playful voice, "and say... 'No data yet!'!"

I laughed. "Keep that up and you just might become a Police Commander."

"Yes, I know." said Cindy. "I'm just practicing, since they're about to make you Police Chief."

"Not gonna do it." I said in my best Elder George Bush imitation. "Wouldn't be PRU-dent... at this... JUNCT-shhurrrrrre..." It got sillier as we entered our home County; I'll spare you the pain of having to read it...

Part 7 - Locker Room Material

It was the morning of Wednesday, October 28th. I was struggling to catch my breath at the end of the run with the ROTC Junior Class, but I felt exhilarated by the exercise and the blood coursing through my veins.

We ended the run, which had taken us all over Campus, near the Athletic Complex. As the Cadets were dismissed, I headed towards my Police SUV. Sergeant Tate came up to me and walked with me.

"Good run, Commander." he said. "How does it feel to be back in the Army?" I knew what he meant: I had been issued a standard Army P.T. uniform, gray sweats with the word ARMY written on the front. I had been wearing sweats with "TCPD" on the front, but it was suggested I wear the Army gear so I wouldn't stand out. I'm 6'4", a redhead, and more than ten years older than the kids I was running with... but I was glad the Army gear kept me from standing out, I thought with Cindy-Ross-like sarcasm.

I laughed. "Whatever doesn't kill me only makes me stronger, right?"

"That's right, sir." said Tate. "Oh, here come the football players for their workout." We watched as the football players charged out of the athletic complex towards the fence-enclosed practice field. I remembered that some time before I'd watched them come out in a line, disciplined, running up the sidelines and breaking off into neat rows. Unlike then, under the late Coach Brian Harlan, Coach Russ Bronson's squad was rowdy and undisciplined.

In fact, as they came by me they started shouting stuff at me about what the Bulldogs were going to do to the Wildcats. I made the mistake of saying "Yeah, right." to one, a tall slender black kid. He 'fronted me.

"You want a piece of me, old man? You want some of this, Wildcat?" he shouted into my face.

I held up my badge, inches from his face. "Move along, punk, or I'll take every piece of you to jail." Two other players came up and literally pulled their teammate away.

"Sorry about that, I.C." one of them said. "He didn't realize who you were."

"Educate him." I replied, somewhat acidly.

Following the players were the coaches. Coach Bronson looked at me balefully; he and I were anything but friends since the days of the PED scandal. Sergeant Tate went on to his car, but something told me to watch... and I got out my cellphone. The players had formed a semicircle around Bronson, and he was screaming at them to motivate them.

"What are we going to do?" screamed Bronson.

"FUCK THE WILDCATS!" yelled the team.

"We're going to bend them over and..." Bronson yelled.

"FUCK THE WILDCATS UP THE ASS!" yelled the team.

"What are we going to do to those Wildcat pussies?" yelled Bronson.

"FUCK THE WILDCATS!" yelled the team.

It went on, then the players began going through their drills. I walked to my car, putting my cellphone in my pocket... with the video recording I'd just made on it...

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

"Look at it!" shouted the Offensive Coordinator as the entire Wildcat team watched in the auditorium of their athletic complex. "Just look at what they are saying about you! The Bulldogs are calling you cowards! They are calling you pussies! That's what they THINK of you! They have NO RESPECT for you!" The entire team watched the video over and over, silently smoldering.

"Gentlemen," said the Offensive Coordinator. "I don't want any personal fouls. I don't want any dirty action. We are not State Tech, we will rise above it. But I want you to let this sink in deep. I want you to think about what the Bulldogs think of you! I want you to think about it when you execute every practice drill, every play, and when you take the field on Saturday. I want you to be clean, I want you to be composed, but if you execute properly, crisply, and with focus, we will show the Bulldogs just who the pussies are! Now get out there, and let's get ready for this game!" With a Wildcat Roar, the team rushed out of the room. Practice was intense.

"Where did you get that footage?" Head Coach Richmond asked Coach Erskine Marshall.

"You remember that Police Commander in the Bulldogs' home town, who saved me from being framed for their PED incident? The Iron Crowbar?"

"Oh yeah, he went to School here." said Coach Richmond.

"That's him." said Coach Marshall. "He happened to be near their practice facility and picked this up. Told me his Wildcat blood was running a bit fast at having to hear those insults."

"Make sure the guys keep it clean." Coach Richmond said. "But we'll make damn sure not to let the Iron Crowbar down..."

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

Meanwhile, Your Iron Crowbar was having a meeting at Town & County Police Headquarters with his top staff, this time in the Main Conference Room. This meant that Captain Cindy Ross, Lieutenants Tanya Perlman and Teresa Croyle, Supervisor Myron Milton, Special Assistant (to me) Mary Mahoney Milton, and Consultant David Krueger were eating the doughnuts I had generously provided. The light from the windows was refreshing, unlike the dungeon-like quality of Classrooms 'E' and 'C'.

"Anything new?" I asked.

"No sir." said Myron Milton, who looked exhausted. "I have contacted some friends in the FBI, and they assure me that Bonita Bishop is not an FBI agent nor Confidential Informant. My secret sources within the City Police say likewise. I have gone to the Dark Web to see what I can find, and while some of my peeps there have not yet gotten back to me, there's nothing so far. She is just off the grid. Maybe she's dead."

"Or she's hiding." I said. "Hiding from someone she knows very well will kill her if he finds her."

"Maybe he's already found her and killed her." said Cindy. "And we will never, ever know."

"Krueger," I said, "brighten my day."

"Yes sir." said David. "First of all, Myron and Mary have gotten me up to speed on this so-called Shadow Man. To me, he's like a Spider in the center of a web."

"I'm sure they've also made you very aware of the need to keep anything about him very confidential, and you are not to discuss it even with other officers that you otherwise think you can trust. So are there any correlations between our Spider and what's going on?" I asked.

"I would say this." said Krueger. "Ben Knight was trying to sound like he was the leader or full partner in this security thing with Norris. But I think Norris was the guy in charge of it and made the decisions. Maybe one reason Knight killed Bishop was because he felt like he was the appendage, the wingman, the Robin to Norris's Batman--"

"One more cliché out of you," Cindy Ross said, "and I will force you to drink this coffee. Who in the hell made this pot?"

"That would be me." said Myron.

"He was up all night, so he made the coffee a little... strong." Mary said. "Okay David, put some cream in Captain Ross's coffee and--"

It took five full minutes to stop the laughter and restore order.

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

"So Norris was working with T-Square a lot as security, while Knight mostly just did uniformed guard duty for Quintus and at T-Square's recording studios." I said, once the meeting resumed. "But you've found absolutely no connection between Norris and Watch Captain Lockhart."