Pink Lemonade Ch. 02

"No." I said. "I realized it just now, when she planted the bug to hear our conversation. So... why don't you tell me the real story here, so I can avenge the man's murder?"

Orosco considered for a long moment, then said "Okay, you're right. It's deep, really fucking deep. I wasn't lying about hearing rumors of a plot to kill you, though. That's real enough, and Reubens did think someone might try to kill you at that Festival."

"Me or more likely my wife." I said. "But what else?"

Orosco continued. "Okay. Reubens realized your ploy in giving Sharples that assignment to investigate the child trafficking, and knew that you were getting Sharples to reveal what he knows and hoping he'd help you take down some bad guys. But the problem is that the bad guys know it, too. He was watching everyone Sharples contacted at the Festival, hoping to get a lead on possible connections. But Sharples must've had a confederate that saw Reubens, and had that Girl Scout give Reubens the poisoned lemonade."

"All true." I said. "But come on, Ted, you are holding out on me here."

"No, I'm really not." said Orosco, who finally realized he could not defeat me in mental combat this day. "There really is a Syndicate. You know State Senator Jimmy 'Coffin' Cerone out of Southport?" I nodded as Orosco said "He used to be the Boss of Bosses in the Southport Mob. Gave it up for politics. Ever wonder why?"

"Sure I've wondered." I said. "But he still controls a lot of that stuff. He's the State's version of a Mob-connected U.S. Senator from a Western State."

"Well, you may not have looked into it all that deeply, like we did." said Orosco. "Cerone was basically forced out. He's a smart man, though, and realized that setting himself up in politics made him useful so that they wouldn't kill him."

"And it was this Syndicate forced him out?" I asked.

"We think so." said Orosco. "And they must be a tremendously powerful bunch to be able to so easily direct the Southport Mob's actions regarding its leadership."

I thought about it. "Ted, how have you come to know all this about this Syndicate?"

"Years of investigations, undercover operations, confidential informants." said Orosco. "Crenshaw is our best and most experienced guy on Organized Crime in the City and in Southport, but he's too loyal to Lewis for us to trust. I've been working with Crenshaw and his people on some occasions, though, so I've learned a few things from time to time."

"And that big drug sting Reubens was the leader of, the one that crashed and burned... was the Syndicate behind that?"

"We had hopes of getting some of them, maybe putting a dent in their operations." said Orosco. "But they weren't the main target."

"Okay," I said, realizing I'd get no more out of Orosco at this time, "let's get back with the others." We left the office room.

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

"So what is this Syndicate about?" Cindy asked as we drove back to Headquarters... by way of the bypass loop about three times.

"Oh, one would have to be blind to not know the Mob controls Southport and their rail and river shipping." I said. "They tried to come up here when we had more rail shipping than we do now. Chief Griswold ran them out on a rail, and that was with the SBI trying to undermine him all the way."

"Oh wow." Cindy said. "I never knew that about the Chief. But those guys weren't this 'Syndicate'. So what is the Syndicate up to?"

"They're just one criminal organization I'm aware of." I said. "They sound like a big deal, but they're just one small chapter of national Mob organizations around the country. But it would be a better analogy to say that they're like that 'Black Badge' group... they infiltrate larger organizations on behalf of their leader."

"And who would that leader be?"

"You get one guess, 'Watson'." I replied. "Don't blow it."

Cindy smiled as I continued: "And for all their investigating, the Shadow Man has not really shown up on the SBI's radars. He is truly effective at hiding himself, as Susan Wexler told me. And speaking of that... didn't Molly tell you about a reporter in Midtown that was assaulted after looking into the 'Victory Christian Ministries' angle?"

"Yeah, she mentioned it when she came up for the July 4th weekend." Cindy replied. "The guy is still in the hospital, though he's out of the coma he'd been in."

"Might be time to pay him a visit... under the guise of the Wargrave investigation." I said.

Part 8 - Midtown Blues

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the lovely redheaded reporterette from in front of the State Office Building on the north side of Courthouse Square in Town, at precisely 7:00am on Monday, August 10th.

"Channel Two News has learned that Commander Donald Troy of the Town & County Police Force has been asked by the Governor himself to take an active role in the investigation of the murder of an SBI Agent at the Coltrane County Homespun Festival this weekend! Commander Troy made this statement over the weekend..."

A tape of Your Iron Crowbar was played, showing me asking citizens to send the Police any video or photo footage they'd taken at the Festival that might help with our investigation.

And boy! did we get it! Thousands of emails poured into the official TCPD inbox, which Myron and Mary quickly had preserved in servers for our examination. Most of it wasn't worth much, but a few people had some shots and video of the time of the murder, and we were able to look at some things.

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

"When does that Girl Scout troop meet?" I asked Crowbar's Angels that morning at our command meeting in my office.

"Tomorrow, Tuesday evening." said Cindy. "Why?"

"I heard that the girls are not doing well mentally after this weekend, especially poor Margaret." I said. "My wife talked with her and her family yesterday."

"And as usual," Tanya said, "you have an idea what to do about that."

"Indeed I do." I said. "And it will help our case, too."

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

As I drove into Midtown early that same Monday afternoon, I had a sense of foreboding. First, I was driving alone. While I'd called Molly and she and her boss, Captain Sean 'Cav' Moynahan were waiting for me, I still hated to not have anyone having my back.

But second... whenever I came to this town I was reminded of my past life, of the years I was married to Melina, selling security equipment while working in the drudgery of a chemistry lab, and the relief of being able to go to Army Reserve weekends. Wow, how the times and my life had changed...

Driving in a Police SUV on a highway was often amusing. Even though I was out of jurisdiction, other cars saw the blue lightbar on top of my vehicle and slowed down, often pulling into the right lane and giving me clearance to move past them.

Pulling into Midtown, which was caught between being a large town or a small city, I headed for Molly's Police Precinct. There I quickly found my pregnant lover and her police team: Detective Frank Soltis and Captain Moynahan.

"Good to see you, Don." said 'Cav' as he ushered me into his office for a conversation. "I guess Sergeant Evans has told you about some of our problems down here?"

"Some of it." I said. "Is there more you can tell me?"

"Yes." said Moynahan, who then looked around his office as he said "But I think we'll talk more of it while we're on the way to the hospital, or at dinner."

I pulled out my little anti-bugging device and silently raised my eyebrows, offering to use it then. Moynahan put his hands up in a 'Stop' sign and shook his head silently. He was clearly worried and desirous of taking the strongest of precautions.

"Well, let's go, then." I said.

With Molly in tow, we drove in my Police SUV to Midtown's largest hospital, which was okay but nothing like University Hospital. I again felt gratitude for what I had in my home Town.

"Don," said Moynahan as we drove, "I need to ask you to make sure I am with you at all times while you're down here looking into this. You may be able to flash that SBI Reserve badge, but our top brass might shoot you anyway. But they won't do that with me here."

"That bad, huh?" I said. "Is it safe for Molly to be with us?"

"Oh, yeah," said Moynahan, "I'm overstating the case just to make the point. We'll be fine... but things are getting a bit dicey down here. Let me tell you what' going on."

He began: "We began re-investigating the murder of that young CIA man, Mike. To be honest, I expected to find nothing, but the FBI in the City was pretty helpful to us. We are pretty sure that Vicki Oldeeds and some of her entourage that night are behind the murder, but we don't have anything concrete."

He continued: "Then there was a murder in the 'Red River District', which is similar to your Town's 'Tenderloin District'. The Chief assigned the murder to my team. The guy was a small-time hood from Southport. We learned that he'd been trying to become a 'made man' in the Southport Mob, but then, and rather suddenly, began working independently of them. He had a pipeline going, but we could not get any lead on where he might be getting drugs from. And then we found out that it might not be drugs he was pushing."

"What, then?" I asked.

"Arms." said Moynahan. "Small shipments, but several of them. One of them might have gone up towards your Town, but never got there. But then we heard a rumor, an ugly one... a C.I., one of the FBI's best assets in Southport, unexpectedly contacted us, unsolicited. He told us to look into a group called 'Victory Christian Ministries'... and he said that underage foreign girls had been shipped to the City for purposes of prostitution and pornography, and that payments were going through this VCM group."

"Wow." I said.

"And then, lo and behold," continued Captain Moynahan, "this reporter we're going to visit was found nearly dead. Severely beaten, gang raped in the ass. In addition, his home had been broken into and ransacked, totally destroyed. We'll go look there too, if you like."

"Sure." I said as we pulled into the hospital parking lot.

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

"I don't remember anything about the attack on me." said the reporter. He was a young man that reminded me a little bit of the late Tim Dawdle from my County: punkish, a product of schooling and upbringing that caused him to investigate news stories based upon an agenda instead of true journalistic reporting. I'd studied his work history with KCAP, one of Midtown's news networks; he was virulently anti-Christian, and had been relentlessly 'investigating', i.e. attacking, many Christian organizations, including the Oldeeds Group.

"What do you remember?" I asked. "Any idea why you were attacked?" I should note that I was in my light trenchcoat and plainclothes underneath. My Tilley hat had an SBI Reserve badge under the requisite Airborne wings, but I was not wearing the hat indoors.

"No." he said. "I'd been working on this smuggling pipeline. A Detective Sharples had tipped me off about it, and I'd interviewed Captain Moynahan of the Midtown Police about it. I found out that 'Victory Christian Ministries' had bank accounts here, and also in the City."

"Where are your notes?" I asked. "Do you have anything that could give me a clue to who attacked you?"

"Most of my stuff was in my desk at KCAP." he said. "I didn't try to hide anything at home, which was a good thing because the Police told me my house was broken into."

"Mind if I take a look there and see if they left any clues that might lead me to them?"

"Go ahead." the reporter said. "But take Captain Moynahan with you."

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

It was getting late in the afternoon as we pulled up to the small house of the reporter. I'd taken the precaution to get a fresh search warrant, citing the Agent Reubens murder as a possible new connection. As usual, I got the warrant but it took a lot longer than it takes to get them from the judges in my County. Another reason to be grateful for what I have.

When I got there, I parked a distance away. "Molly," I said, "get behind the wheel. I expect trouble. If anyone comes after you, get the hell out of here. If something happens to me and Captain Moynahan, get up to my Town as fast as this car will take you and get your sister. She will bring down the wrath of God, but you have to stay safe in this SUV. Promise?"

"If you say so." Molly said, knowing that my main concern was my baby inside her belly.

My fears were well-founded. As 'Cav' and I reached the door of the house, I heard the roar of police sirens. Several cars whizzed in, the tires screeching. Among the uniformed Midtown Police Officers getting out of their cars was an older man, also in uniform. He was Assistant Chief Mark McCluskey. He was a tough, grizzled veteran of the force, and looked as if he'd seen the seamier side of life.

"What the hell are you doing here, Moynahan?" he growled. "I told you that you were off this case!"

Moynahan made sure to make his voice sound as gravelly and folksy as he could; in that way he reminded me of P. Harvey Eckhart. He said "I'm not on it, Chief. This SBI Agent is investigating it, and I'm just assisting in the interest of good relations with our State Bureau of Investigation."

"And who the hell are you?" McCluskey said to me. I noted his officers were tense, ready to draw guns. For myself, I stood in front of the door, my legs spread slightly in a 'ready' stance, tapping my red crowbar in the palm of my left hand.

"I'm Lieutenant Don Troy of the SBI Reserve." I thundered back at him. "I have a warrant to search these premises, and I'm investigating the attack on this reporter in connection with two State cases, including that of the assassination of an SBI agent."

"Oh yeah?" said McCluskey. "Well not anymore, you're not. This case is local, no matter what happened to your agent. Now you get the hell out of Midtown by dark, if you know what's good for you."

"Is that a threat, Chief McCluskey?" I asked loudly.

"No." he said, not falling for the trap. "It's just good sound advice, if you know what is good for you. But if you try to go in there, these officers are going to stop you, and with lethal force if necessary."

"Going to kill me?" I asked.

"If I have to." said McCluskey, getting worn to anger by my attitude.

"Better be sure." I said. I raised an eyebrow as if glancing behind him.

He and his officers turned around. Twelve uniformed State Patrol Officers stood behind him. All of them had their hands on their guns, some actually drawn. They had appeared quietly and suddenly from out of nowhere, like Japanese ninja.

"You go on inside and look around, Lieutenant." said Moynahan. "I'll wait out here with the Assistant Chief, and keep him from getting hurt."

"Sounds like a plan." I said. I went inside.

"How dare you bring the SBI into this?" McCluskey said to Moynahan.

"I didn't. He contacted me." said Moynahan. Indeed, I had made the effort to send an email on my SBI Reserve account, knowing I needed to provide cover for him.

"I am going to barbecue your ass for this, Moynahan." growled McCluskey.

"Come now, Chief," said Moynahan, "you've said that before, and we both know you' can't do a damn thing to me. And by the way, you're a lucky man to still be alive right now."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" McCluskey said, turning a baleful eye onto the Captain.

"Didn't you see what that man had in his hands?" Moynahan asked.

"Yeah, a fucking red crowbar. So wha--" McCluskey's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "Oh, Jesus..."

"No, not Jesus, but it was indeed the Iron Crowbar himself, Chief." said Moynahan, rubbing salt into the wound. "And he has his eyes firmly upon you. After you think about what that means, you should probably go home and change your underwear."

McCluskey turned around, seeing the State Patrol Officers still watching his men alertly. There was nothing he could do. At least not right now.

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

Looking around, I saw that the small, two bedroom house had been devastated. Every piece of furniture had been turned over, and the sofa had been been cut open and its contents spilled all over the place. The television set had been smashed open. The entire kitchen looked like a tornado had passed through. The mattress and box springs in the bedroom had also been ripped apart. There were gaping holes in the walls.

The door to the attic in the ceiling had been pulled open, the ladder still extended to the floor. Glancing up there, I saw that the heater and a.c. units had been opened up, and the insulation had been removed from every space laid, and was strewn about. The perps had been extremely thorough in their search, I noted as I went back to the main floor.

My examination showed nothing. There could be no hiding place that would not have been found. I realized that the perps had used sonar on the walls, and ripped out the drywall of any suspicious area. The medicine cabinet had been ripped out of the wall in the bathroom, even.

When I went back outside, the Assistant Chief and his men got back into their cars and left. I went to the leader of the State Patrol Officers. "Thanks guys." I said. "Keep your receipts for dinner tonight and I'll pay you back."

"Thanks, Commander." the Leader said. "If you need us again, you know where to call." They walked down the street out of sight.

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

"Did you find anything?" Molly asked as she drove us back to her Headquarters. I was riding shotgun in my own Police SUV, which I almost never got to do as I was normally driving.

"No." I said, noticing that Molly's eyes were sparkling. "The perps were thorough in their search for anything the reporter had. They knew they had time to ransack the place. They used sonar on the walls, tore up literally anything and everything that could've been a hiding place. That bespeaks a level of expertise and equipment at a very, very high level."

"Good thing you had those State Patrol guys backing us up." said Captain Moynahan. "I know McCluskey is dirty, but something's really going on for him to show up like that. I really wasn't expecting that..." Molly's eyes were sparkling even more.

"You and your entire team need to be very careful." I said. "I don't want any of you ending up in the hospital like that reporter, or worse."

"Don't worry." said Moynahan. "The Midtown Police are not nearly as corrupt as the City Police or Southport Police. We've got a lot of good people working for good. That's why I haven't retired yet: I can't let them down."

"I hear you." I said. "By the way, if you did retire, who do you think would lead the Good Guys?"

"Our Chief is a good man. He has to play the political game, but there are lines he won't cross and has not tolerated being crossed. Soltis is a good man, and I don't even need to tell you about Evans here. And there are a few others salted away in various places. Good combat veterans, all."

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

Assistant Chief McCluskey was boiling mad as he went into his office. Sitting down he grabbed the phone and called his contact within the State Patrol.

"Greg, what the hell were you doing, letting your officers show up at that reporters' house to protect the Iron Crowbar?" McCluskey growled. "Don't you know how fucking dangerous this guy is?"

"What are you talking about?" he was asked. He explained what had happened.

"Mark," the man on the other end of the line said, his voice furtive, "I can't speak loudly, people are nearby, including the Station Commander. I can tell you this: we didn't send any State Patrol Officers to that house, and we haven't been asked for help by the SBI, at least not here in Midtown, for months..."