Pink Panther Ch. 02

"And let's just remember what Jared and Troy have done in their past year together. Rape victims are told they are the criminals, while their attackers go free. A peaceful protester is shot dead by Troy, claiming his family was somehow in danger. What if it was his family that was executed by the White Nationalist State of Val Jared?" More gasps, and no laughter.

"And let's not forget that we are gathering here at the hotel where the beautiful voice and beautiful person of Jasmine Nix was brutally silenced, here in Val Jared's White Nationalist State." continued Hardwood.

"You tell 'em, John!" shouted State Senator Maxine Watts. Tepid laughter and more gasps ensued.

"So we'll celebrate these awards tonight." said Hardwood. "Then tomorrow we will resume our righteous battle for the rights of oppressed minorities, and to get the truth out about mentally incompetent politicians and killer cops..."

Part 14 - Tradition Like No Other

Saturday morning, September 30th. Carole, Laura, and I ate breakfast at 'The Greasy Spoon', a 1950's diner-style hamburger joint that served some fantastic breakfasts, and was a traditional eating spot for Wildcat students, alumni, and fans. Carole ate most of her eggs and all of her bacon, while I wolfed down my 'fried egg cheeseburger', which would give Jack Muscone's double cheeseburgers a solid run for their money as the best burgers ever.

We took Carole on a tour of the School. I showed her where my dorm room was; we couldn't go inside so I just pointed at the window from outside. Laura pointed out where her office had been in the Psychology Building. The building was relatively new, and windows were random and haphazard. Laura told Carole (and me): "When they built the building, they asked the professors at the time if they wanted a window or not. Those that wanted one, got one. Those that didn't, didn't. Hence the strangeness." Just one of those uniquenesses of a college campus, I thought to myself.

The game against Eastern State was an early one, so after our tour Laura hugged and kissed us and headed to the Science Library to meet her colleagues in the field of sexual psychology. Meanwhile, I took Carole to the 'Cat Walk', where the Wildcats players in suits and ties walked into the the stadium through a gauntlet of cheering Wildcats fans.

The Campus is built mostly on two hills. In the valley between them, where a creek used to flow, the football stadium's lower deck was built literally into the ground in the 1920s, and the creek runs through a concrete pipe under the field. Later on the upper decks were built and the stadium bowled in, but on the northern end-zone end the seats of the upper deck don't go all the way up, so one can see inside as one walks down to the stadium.

As Carole and I walked down the walk, I said "Look, Carole, there's the stadium."

"Wowwww!" exclaimed my four year old daughter. It was an impressive sight even for adults, but to a young child it's just huge. I remembered my first time seeing it, walking down this very path... Wildcat Tradition, passed down from one generation to the next...

'Mr. Wildcat', someone dressed up as a Wildcat in a uniform, was walking up and down the gauntlet at the 'Cat Walk', and he stopped so I could take a picture of him and Carole, both pointing up their index fingers in the 'Number 1' sign. Then the players came through, and I had Carole on my shoulders so she could see.

I saw my Detective Theo Washington's cousin Jamaal walking up, and I took a photo of him. I did not expect him to see nor recognize me, but he did, and he came up and said "Hey Commander!" and high-fived me and Carole.

"Who was that, Daddy?" asked Carole.

"You know Detective Theo that works with me?" I said. "Jamaal is Theo's cousin, like Cindy is your cousin."

"Ohhhhhhh!" Carole said. I had no idea if she remembered Theo or not.

Then we went into the stadium. Our seats were good: 40 rows up in the lower deck, about the 20 yard line on the eastern side, the side with the season-ticket holders, and behind the sideline the Wildcats players were on. The student section and band were on the other (western side). Carole was fascinated with it all, especially how high the punter was kicking the ball in warmups. He was destined for the NFL, I knew. I pointed out Jamaal Washington, who was wearing his No. 10 jersey, and told her he was the guy who high-fived us at the Cat Walk.

Then came the band onto the field for all the pre-game songs and the National Anthem. I sang the National Anthem very loudly, and Carole looked annoyed. "Daddy, its embarrrr-a-ssing when you sing like that!" she said.

"Carole," I replied, "it's embarrassing to me when you're not singing just as loud as I am." My daughter would never again sing the National Anthem less loudly than I would.

Then the Eastern State team ran out, to the jeers of "CAT FOOD! CAT FOOD!", then the Wildcats came out in their red jerseys, gold pants, gold helmets with the football and letter logo on the sides, and we soon would be underway...

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

The clock ran down to "00:00" to end the game, with the Wildcats winning 24-14. Jamaal Washington had caught two touchdown passes, and Carole had figured out who No. 10 was and cheered loudly when he scored.

But what she didn't know, but I did, is that the Wildcats were rebuilding this year. What we lacked in depth, we made up for in youth and inexperience. It was not going to be pretty against the Bulldogs, I knew... and dreaded.

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

"There you are!" said Laura as Carole and I came up to her at our designated meeting spot outside the Stadium. "Did you have fun, Carole?"

"Yes, Mommy!" said Carole. "Can I get a num-ber ten jersey?" I had to explain about Jamaal.

Just then, a uniformed Cadet Police Officer came up to me. "Sir, are you Commander Troy?" he asked.

"Uh, yes I am." I said.

"Sir, Coach Marshall has asked if you'd come with me. There's a... er, problem."

"Sure." I said. Laura said she'd take Carole to get a jersey, and we'd meet back at the hotel. I went with the Cadet Officer.

I had my TCPD badge and my FBI Consultant badge, though I was not carrying a gun nor my crowbar. The Cadet Officer led me into the stadium through hoops of security. I began to realize that something was wrong... there was tension in the Officers's faces.

We were walking down the corridor under the west side of the stadium towards the Visitors locker room. A man in plainclothes was talking to an older man in the uniform of a Sheriff. The Sheriff turned to me.

"Ah, Commander Troy." he said. "You probably don't remember me..."

"Sure I do, Sheriff Goodwin." I said. "After all, your nephew is the head of my Internal Affairs Division."

"Yes, he is. Tiny world we live in." said the Sheriff. "Come on inside." He introduced the plainclothes officer to me, who was Detective Abbott of the local Police Force. They walked me down the corridor. Not far from the Visitors locker room was a storage room. I was allowed through the cordon, and immediately saw the body on the floor.

"Oh, wow." I said, noting the man was wearing the slacks and collared shirt of an Eastern State assistant coach. The lower back of the shirt was soaked in blood, and there was a large pool of blood on the floor. He was on his side, facing away from me. "Who is he?"

"That's why we asked you to come down." said the Sheriff as I approached the body and saw his face. It was the former Bulldogs coach who had planted drugs on Coach Marshall (Author's note: 'Case of the Murdered Football Player'.) and had been run out of Town on a rail... er, crowbar.

"Speedy Gonzales." I said. "Yes, I remember him." I gave the details of his career feeding drugs to football players and his forced resignation from the Bulldogs' coaching staff.

"His throat was slashed." I said. "Oh... what is that in his hand?" I asked, seeing a flash of bright pink. Gonzales was gripping something in his left hand, and his body was on top of it. A tech came over and eased it out as the videographer taped everything. I whistled in shock as I recognized the round piece of plastic, an Innova disc golf disc.

Yes, it was a Pink Panther.

"Holy shit." I said as I got out my Police iPhone and the little packet of dust, like a small package of salt in restaurants, to check for prints. The tech watched as I dusted the disc then used the U.V. light. Only Speedy Gonzales's prints were on it. The tech bagged the disc.

"Okay, that's interesting." I said. "I've also got three cases in my State, including one in my County, where these pink discs are showing up beside dead bodies. So how was he killed?"

"In addition to the throat cut, he was stabbed in the back by a large knife." said Detective Abbot. "When he was a wide receiver, he had the reputation of being quick in his movements as well as a fast runner. So I'm going to guess he was totally ambushed, that someone with some power clasped his hand on Gonzales's mouth and then stabbed him. Not sure why they stabbed him in the throat, but from the lack of bleeding I'd say he was already dead or close to it."

"Good observation." I said. "They probably slashed his throat so he couldn't cry out. So how was he lured into here?"

The Sheriff spoke up. "Because of that situation with your Town's University, Commander," he said, "Gonzales never would set foot in your State. He was excused from the game against the Bulldogs, and he flew here from Acropolis City, arriving separately from the rest of the team. The team said they'd have someone escort Coach Gonzales down here."

The Sheriff continued: "When he didn't arrive, Coach Frazier, the Eastern State Head Coach, called me. I said we'd start looking for him and get him to the correct locker room. That was about two hours before the game, about the time the 'Cat Walk' started on the other side. We didn't find him at all; one of the concession stand employees found him when he came in to get another supply of cups right about when the game began."

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

After wrapping up at the crime scene, I went over to the Wildcats locker room. Coach Erskine 'Iron Man' Marshall, the Wildcats' Defensive Coordinator, greeted me warmly.

"Great to see you again, Don." he said. "Let me introduce you to Coach Richmond." He led me over to Head Coach Richmond and introduced me as 'the Iron Crowbar'.

"Ah yes." said Coach Richmond, shaking my hand, "I've heard a lot about you and the cases you've solved. Glad you could come over today."

"Unfortunately," I said, "things came into my professional realm today. Did you hear about Coach Gonzales?"

"They asked us if we'd seen him, but that was before the game." said Marshall. "Did you find him?"

"Unfortunately, yes." I said. "He was found dead. Murdered."

"Oh, that's terrible." said Coach Richmond, known as a good Christian man of high integrity as well as a good football coach. "Any idea who did it?"

"No, Coach." I said. "Coach Marshall knew him while they were both with the Bulldogs' coaching staff, and I wanted to ask some background questions."

"Sure. said Coach Richmond. "I'll leave you to it. I've got to give my press conferences." He left.

"You probably know more about him than I do." said Marshall.

"I know about the PED incident, that Gonzales was pushing them." I said. "Were there any other incidents with him of which you were aware? Covering up for thefts? Delivering money from boosters, that sort of thing?"

"Not that I was aware of." said Coach Marshall. "I was only there that one year, though. You might want to ask some of the other coaches that were there before I was. Coach Harlan is dead now, of course, but there were some others... maybe Butch Fulmer, if you can find him... what?" He'd seen my face at the name.

"I'm sorry to tell you, Coach." I said. "Butch Fulmer was found murdered a few days ago. And now I'm getting concerned for you. Keep your eyes peeled for any problems. Let Coach Richmond know, as well."

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

It was early evening before I got back to the hotel. Carole was now wearing a Wildcat red No. 10 jersey, and had two pennants. "The other one is for Marie." Carole said.

"What about Jim?" I asked.

"He can get his own when you bring him to a game." Carole said. Four years old and figuring that stuff out already. But at least she had a good heart to want to get Marie a pennant, I thought.

"So what happened?" Laura asked.

"I'll tell you later, when we're alone." I said. "Right now, I want to get some supper. And Laura, we might want to consider driving on home now rather than waiting..."

To be continued.