Moonlight Shadow Ch. 02

"At least that was Bettina's last story, and not the lead." said Joanne Warner.

"With all the tools our Government has," said Teddy Parker, "I'm stunned that they don't know who the Guardians of Justice are."

"Maybe they do." I replied, stunning the room into silence.

"Sir?" asked Teresa Croyle.

"Parker is right." I said. "The FBI alone has some of the best cyber-security people in the world. And yet the GOJ obtains this data with apparent ease, and puts it out over the internet with impunity."

"With respect, sir," said Myron Milton, "it's not as easy as you're making it sound. Tracing stuff over the billions of connections over the Internet, which can be masked, is about as easy as tracing nerve synapses in the human brain... you literally have to be looking at it and watching for it to catch it."

"That's true." I said.

"My question to your thesis, sir," said Cindy Ross, "is why they're doing this? What reason would the Government have for letting the GOJ operate like this, and not coming down on them like a ton of bricks?"

"We're thinking in terms that the Government is one entity, that all parts of it are in unison and think the same way." I replied. "From what I've seen in Midtown, that's definitely not true. And our own U.S. Senators are deeply divided over the GOJ, you may have noticed. So maybe some in the Government know who the GOJ is, and want them to succeed in exposing corruption; while some may know but are afraid to say anything lest they be exposed themselves..."

"Cough cough, Senator Russell, cough cough..." said Cindy Ross.

"Oh, he's in my third group: those who don't know who the GOJ is." I said. "If he knew, he'd go after them. He and others have been trying to prove that I am the GOJ for months now... and they've failed because I'm not the GOJ, never was, and therefore I can't lay a trail of bread crumbs for them to discover if I haven't done anything... n'est pas?"

"We believe you when you say it's not you, sir." said Teresa. "So who do you think the GOJ is?"

"Someone smarter than me." I said simply. "Because I don't have a clue who it might be."

"Excuse me, everyone!" Theo Washington said loudly. "Here's the latest Harlow commercial." We all fell silent and watched the atrocity unfold.

It started with footage of helicopters in Viet Nam shooting at people on the ground. Then the male voice started. "Helicopter gunships. Weapons of war." Then the scene changed to MLK Park in the daytime. "Our Town and County has been transformed into a war zone by the violent, war-like actions of Commander Donald Troy, who fired a machine gun in a helicopter gunship indiscriminately into MLK Park, killing three people."

Then it showed Della Harlow making a speech on Saturday. "You went to sleep in a peaceful American Town." she yelled. "And you woke up in a war zone like Iraq, thanks to the cowboy policies of Daniel Allgood, the failed leadership of Antonio Griswold, and the paramilitary actions of the TCPD under Donald Troy! As your next Sheriff, I will stop this excessive use of violent, war-like force! The Police will be the Peace Officers that protect and serve, not some weekend warrior outfit that endangers black citizens in a public park!" The boilerplate about approving the message then played.

"That fucking bitch!" Teresa all but yelled, shocking us all. "My daddy earned the Medal of Honor taking a helicopter team to rescue a Green Beret team! How dare that bitch dishonor him and our Viet Nam heroes like that!" With that, she stormed out of the room. Cindy recovered from her shock, and followed her best friend out the door.

"Whaa?" gasped Teddy Parker. "Her father earned the Medal of Honor?"

"Yes." I said, then added loudly. "The circumstances under which he earned it are still considered classified by the military, so we will say no more of it. But if you ever go to Teresa's hometown, it's right there on her father's gravestone: 'Medal of Honor'."

It was now sinking into everyone's conscience that there was a 'like father, like daughter' scenario here, and from where Teresa's courage in saving Carole might have been inherited.

And speaking of courage, the room erupted into applause when Detective Roy McGhillie came in. His left arm was in a cast and a sling, but he was wearing his uniform and obviously wanted to return to duty.

"Commander," he said after acknowledging all the congratulatory adulations, "I want to return to duty. Any duty. I've got to appear before the Board of Inquiry today, so I might as well make myself useful."

"Sir," said Christopher Purvis, "he can help us with data mining and making phone calls."

"Okay, then. Someone get this man a cup of coffee." I said, conceding. "But do not tax my patience by doing anything more stressful than dialing a phone, Mr. McGhillie..."

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

"This is Priya Ajmani, KSTD Five-Alive News in the Morning!" stated the gorgeous Indian reporterette at 8:00am, from in front of City Hall. "Five-Alive News has learned that the SBI's Office of Ethics and Review, called the 'OER', is expediting their investigation of Commander Donald Troy's use of a Cobra helicopter to engage criminals making a drug buy. The criminals used weapons that were illegally modified to fire fully automatically, and wounded two TCPD Officers. The SBI-OER was called in by the Town & County Department of Public Safety Inspector General Horace Wellman to complete the investigation of Commander Troy's actions."

"In other news," said Priya, "Della Harlow, candidate for Sheriff, ran an ad attacking Commander Troy for his use of the helicopter, and used footage from the Viet Nam War in doing so. Roll tape." Tape rolled, showing the ad.

Back to Priya live: "Here with me is Teresa Croyle, whose father was an Army Officer in Viet Nam, and earned the Medal of Honor. Ms. Croyle, you were offended by Ms. Harlow's ad?"

"You bet I'm offended, Priya!" said Teresa, who had changed into civilian clothes. "My father commanded a unit in Viet Nam that flew helicopters to save the lives of American and Allied soldiers and civilians! To use that footage to make it look like our soldiers were war criminals is deeply offensive, and Della Harlow owes America's veterans an apology for that despicable ad!..."

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

"Wow." said Cindy as she and I watched in my office. "Think that'll hurt Harlow's campaign?"

"Maybe." I said. "But Harlow's supporters and the deeply corrupt Media all hate the military, so they're gonna take Harlow's side. But it's a gaffe on Harlow's part, and a bad one. I just fear... what Della might try to do to retaliate against Teresa."

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

10:00am, Monday, April 9th. I went into MCD and pulled up a chair next to Jerome Davis's desk. "Okay, Davis," I said, "I was called away from the Cialis home at a critical moment, and I apologize for that. So, what did you find at the scene?"

"Not much, sir." said Davis. "The house was relatively sterile and completely clean. Either May or James Cialis are clean freaks, or they just didn't stay there very much."

"Some of both, I would imagine." I said. "Did you search for anything hidden, anything buried?"

"Here's some photos of the backyard, sir." said Jerome as he pulled up some photographs. "As you can see, it's fenced in by a wooden fence. There's no splotches in the grass to suggest anything was dug up, no half-dead grass or different color soil or loose soil. There's a bed of roses along the back wall of the house, and we used sonar to make sure nothing was buried there."

"Did they use sonar inside the house?" I asked.

"Yes sir." said Jerome. "On the walls and floors, all over. No hidden compartments or wall safes or anything like that."

"And her vehicle?"

"The CSI team went over it thoroughly, sir." said Jerome. "Anything in particular you're looking for, sir?"

"Yes." I said. "The murder weapon."

Jerome nodded. "Sir, the two weapons we found were legally purchased, with correct paperwork filed with the Federal BAFTE." he said. "And both James and May had concealed carry permits from several States, seeing as they'd moved from time to time. We didn't find any other pistols, nor rifles or shotguns. We've also had the CSI team look around the River, and dredge that part of the River to see if a firearm came up. Nothing so far."

"That would be the logical thing to do: throw the gun into the River." I said. "By the way, the search warrant we had, has it expired?"

"It'll expire after May Cialis's first hearing, which is scheduled for this morning." said Jerome. "Should be easy enough to get another one, though."

"Who is the prosecutor on this, since Paulina Patterson is running for D.A.?" I asked.

"Savannah Fineman." said Jerome. "She's been handling arraignments and preliminary hearings since Paulina stepped aside. Do you want me to contact her to get another warrant?"

"Not yet." I said.

"Sir," Jerome asked, "is there anything to which you can draw my attention to help me out on this one? Like the dog in the night-time?" I smiled at that Sherlock Holmes reference from Conan Doyle's 'Silver Blaze'.

"We need motive, means, and opportunity... why someone would want to kill James Cialis, who would want to kill him, and how he was killed... beyond the obvious being shot to death. Just keep digging. You're doing great, just keep it up and we'll get to the truth sooner or later."

Just then, Joanne Warner came up. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but the FBI is making their room available at the Federal Building for Jerome and me to look at the classified information on the Cialises."

"Why are you two still here, then?" I asked with a grin. "Seriously, good luck with that. It might have the information we need."

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

2:00pm, Monday, April 9th. I was sitting at the table in the Board of Inquiry chamber, having first listened to the Chief, then Captain Croyle (who was in uniform again, and much calmer), then Captain Ross, then Detective McGhillie, as they gave their testimony as to what happened. Now it was my turn. I was asked to stay at my place at the 'defense' table rather than take the witness chair.

The three Commissioners forming the Board of Inquiry were the 'usual suspects': the elderly black man Mr. Silas, the lead Commissioner; Mr. Fitzgerald, who was friendly to Police; and Mr. Finneran, who had a deep, passionate hatred of Police.

"Commander Troy," said Mr. Silas, "you actually own the Cobra that was used Thursday night? And you lease it to the TCPD?"

"Yes sir." I said.

"Why lease it?" asked Mr. Fitzgerald, and I realized he was doing this to help.

"Indemnity issues." I said. "Also, the TCPD pays for the the housing and upkeep at County Airport."

"Who else besides you can fly that aircraft?" asked Mr. Silas. "By that, I mean simply the ability to fly a helicopter without regard to licensing."

"Chief Moynahan, who is licensed." I said. "Sergeant Prince, who flies our other helicopter, as well. And Fireman Glasgow of the Fire Department, who has flown our other chopper on search and rescue missions." Silas looked over at Finneran, whose drooping mustaches were quivering with anticipation.

"Commander Troy," said Finneran, "for years you have abused your authority as a Police Officer, beating down suspects and intimidating citizens with that crowbar you carry around, violating people's Constitutional rights, shooting innocent, unarmed protesters in cold blood... and now you've declared war on the black citizens of this County by using a helicopter meant to kill people in war and just shooting into a public park in predominately black areas in the darkness of night."

"Is there a question in that statement?" I asked when he finally paused to draw breath. The audience chuckled. Speaking of that audience... a large number of people in red t-shirts, with a person holding up a pennant silk-screen onto the front of the shirts, had shown up demanding to be let into the chamber. When they were denied, they began chanting loudly, and were threatening to push through the hallway.

Then a broad-shouldered redhead wielding a red crowbar, followed by a platinum blonde wielding a green crowbar, followed by more Officers wielding billy sticks, came through. It got quiet and no one stopped us. At the door to the Chamber, I had the others go through then told the Officers "Clear this hallway. Use as much force as you need to. Lethal force is authorized." The cowards in the red t-shirts fled.

Reporters, witnesses, and Sheriff Deputies were allowed into the Chamber. We had no more incidents with the red-shirted thugs.

Back to present time, Finneran was glaring at me with hatred. "The question is, Commander Troy," he said, "when are your abusive tactics going to stop?"

"I object to that question." said Mr. Fitzgerald. "It implies a premise that Commander Troy's tactics are abusive, and I don't agree with that at all."

"I have to agree." said Silas. "Finneran, ask a more legitimate question without premises."

"Commander Troy!" Finneran all but shouted, "was there any other way at all to end the incident that would not include using a weapon that probably should be in use in Afghanistan right now instead of our peaceful American Town?"

"Nothing less dangerous to innocents or my Police Officers." I replied.

"Nothing at all?" snarled Finneran, trying to trap me.

"What would you suggest, Mr. Finneran?" I replied. "An open assault on the criminals would've meant hundreds of rounds expended, possibly carrying out of the park and hitting innocent people. Tear gas or other gas would've drifted and possibly affected innocents. The helicopter, with limited, directed gunfire at perps I could clearly see with infrared, shooting almost straight down at them and the ground, was by far the safest for my Officers and for innocent citizens."

"So our citizens are subjected to open, paramilitary warfare by our Police." said Finneran. "And you have no problem with that, Commander?"

"You seem to have no problem with the criminals using weapons illegally converted to deliver fully automatic fire, Mr. Finneran." I thundered. "You don't mention them nor that aspect of the incident. But you whine when the Police use the tools available to them to subdue these criminals and end the incident and quickly as possible with as little harm to Police and citizens as possible. Paramilitary? The criminals sure were, and didn't give a damn about anyone's safety; in fact, they were trying to kill Police Officers. Why don't you have a problem with that, Mr. Finneran?"

"Your hostility towards me is noted." Finneran said drily. "And we sure don't have to stoop to the criminals' level and act like soldiers making a 'Red Dawn' movie."

"That's ridiculous!" Mr. Fitzgerald shouted. "What do you want, Finneran? For the Police to stand aside while criminals slaughter our citizens, sell drugs to our children, and engage in human trafficking?"

"This isn't a God-damn war zone!" Finneran shouted back. "This is a Town in America! If Commander Troy want's to play soldier, he needs to join the military and go get his ass shot down in Afghanistan! His excessive use of force and Police brutality are not welcome here!"

Mr. Silas began tapping his gavel. "Okay, okay, that's enough." he said wearily. "I think we have all the information we're going to get regarding this incident. This hearing is adjourned, but may be re-initiated at any time." He banged his gavel and the Commissioners got up and filed out of the room. Reporters began calling out to me, but I just looked at them and shook my head. Now was not the time.

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

Ten minutes later, my phone rang. It was Mr. Silas, asking me to come to the office that he used for BOI work. He had also called the Chief, so we went down the hallways to the office.

"Come on in, gentlemen." Mr. Silas said, having us sit down in chairs in front of the desk he was using in the office. As we got comfortable (as comfortable as the girdle would allow me to be), he said "This is irregular, for me to speak privately with you two, but I think it's the only way I'm going to get any answers, here."

He looked at me and said "Commander, you've done a lot of good things in this County since you came here. You're a brilliant man, a great Detective, and our Police Force is a damn sight better and more honest than it was before the two of you were here. That's not an insult to Griswold, either, but some of the people he had under him..." He just shook his gray-haired head in remembrance of some ugly times and ugly things.

"So I understand that you were rescuing your two wounded men." said Silas. "And I want to support you. But dammit, I don't think you understand how bad the optics are on this."

"You're right, Commissioner." I said. "I don't understand. Maybe I'm too close to it, but why would anyone in their right mind object to the Police overwhelming murderous thugs, especially to rescue our wounded?"

"It's much more than that, Commander." Silas said, his voice a mixture of weariness and something bordering on anger. "What some see as good, others see as bad. Take that crowbar of yours, for example. You're the 'Iron Crowbar', and becoming known all over the State for it. People see you with that thing, and many of them see it, and you, as the only line of defense between them and really bad people that want to hurt them."

"But others don't see it that way." Silas continued. "Some see it as the outward manifestation of Police intimidation and brutality. They see it as you imposing force upon them, backed up by that badge on your shirt shielding you from retaliation for your actions."

"Missss-ter Silas," said the Chief, "this is old, old news."

"If I may, sir..." I said, then looked at Silas and said "I know it's the comic books, but The Batman wore his costume to intimidate criminals but not the citizens. Ditto that for my crowbar. The Lone Ranger would say the mask he wore stood for the law. Well so does my crowbar. And people know it."

"Look." said Silas. "I know all that. But it becomes cumulative. Now we've got you blasting in with a helicopter, and things got political. The Council is hearing from their constituents, at least the ones that hate you, and the Council is pressuring me like I've never felt pressure before. And they do have one point: even though you were right to do what you did, the perception and the optics are wrong. I want to hear that the Police successfully made arrests, but not with the controversy that we're seeing here."

I just said nothing. I was feeling tired, getting irritated, and my back was starting to hurt.

"And one last thing." said Silas. "I'm not trying to play the race card here. I don't like that stuff, and I know you're not a racist, Commander. But Blacks and the Police have a very adversarial relationship all over the country. If you'd done this at Ronald Reagan Park, you wouldn't be getting half the flak you're getting now. But MLK Park, in the heart of the black districts in this Town and County... some are very eager to use that against you, for right or wrong. Again... optics, Commander. Perception."

"So what do you want, Commissioner?" asked the Chief, and I could tell in his voice that he was becoming tired of it, too.

"We've got to find a way to get this under control, for now and for the future." said Silas. "I asked you in to see if we can find a way to have good law enforcement without helicopters, or grenades lobbed at the Press, or what is perceived as Police brutality at peaceful demonstrations."

"Commissioner," I said with my authoritarian voice "as long as I am Police Commander here, the TCPD will enforce the law, and with the force we need to apply. I've seen no Police brutality at peaceful demonstrations. I have seen necessary force at violent demonstrations, where bad people were trying to hurt my Police Officers or murder my family in my wife's office. The TCPD's mission is not going to change, and if you want law, order, and peace, you would support what my Police are very responsibly doing."