The Murdered Football Player Ch. 01

"Everyone, just how did the Police learn about the existence of this body in the ditch?" I asked loudly.

"I can answer that." a voice called out. It was Mr. Colburn, who was the owner of the farm to the north. He had been standing by the ambulance, watching us. "I saw some lights when I came out of my house up there. I got my binoculars to see what was going on, and I saw car lights and flashlights. I thought it was kids messing around or possibly a drug deal going down, so I called the police. I came down after the first police car came up, to tell them what I saw."

"I appreciate that, sir." I said. "Hicks, Johnson, see anything?"

"No sir." said Hicks. "We were lucky to stumble onto the body. We parked here at the intersection and started looking around, and I just happened to shine my light down into the culvert, and the flash of white skin caught my eye."

"Yes." I said. "Lucky. Very lucky to come across that. Mr. Colburn, I appreciate your help, and you can head home now, if you don't mind. Paramedics, would you go ahead and take the body to the police morgue? Ask them to get fingerprints and start trying to find the body immediately, and report their findings to Detective Nash, who is now in charge of the case, whether he realizes it or not." I looked towards Martin, who did not allow his facial expression to change as he nodded acknowledgment of my assignment.

"Tanya, did your crime lab team get the tire prints off the dirt road?" I asked.

"They're doing it now." she said. I looked over where a woman was laying out the plaster to get the tire impression; she had already taken pictures in infrared as well as visible light. Ah, technology...

Just then a car pulled up. It was Britt Maxwell.

"Torres, keep working with Nash; this'll be excellent practical experience for you." I said as Britt approached us. "And now I want you all to look the other way while Captain Maxwell and I take a little stroll into Coltrane County."

As Britt and I started down the road, I heard Tanya behind me say "Congratulations, Martin! That's a big deal, getting assigned a case like this..."

Part 3 - The First Roadblocks

As we walked down the dirt road, I filled Britt in on the situation, ending with "I wanted you to come with me because we're State-level, and if the Coltrane County Sheriff Department comes up to see what we're doing, we'll need to have our SBI badges."

"They'll still be pissed." Britt said. "They hate our guts, or I should say your guts, meaning the Town & County Police."

"Why is that?" I said as I examined tire tracks along the road.

"They're small, rural, ten thousand people in their county, tops." Britt replied. "They don't have the resources we do..." she paused, then added to tease me, "... and they don't have the Iron Crowbar."

"They have me right now." I said. "Keep watch in that irrigation ditch."

"What are we looking for?" she asked.

"The dead man's clothes." I replied.

We had walked about half a mile, I turned and looked back: the blue lights of our own police cars were barely visible in the distance. I could actually see the road without my flashlight, as the breaking dawn was gathering strength.

I stopped, seeing a lot of tire tracks, some in circular patterns, only one set heading north. I also saw a lot of footprints leading to the ditch. As I looked up, I heard Britt call out "Here's something!"

In the ditch was a red golf/polo shirt, white khaki short pants and tennis shoes. Very casual wear. I quickly looked around for marks and saw some light footprints. I also saw indentations to the side of the wadded clothing in the ditch, which was wet and muddy.

"Britt, who can we call in to come examine and bag these clothes without getting the SBI all involved?" I asked as I descended into the ditch to look at the clothes. I noticed that the clothing was not deeply stained, meaning that they had not been on the body, but thrown separately into the ditch. I also noticed that the deep indentation next to the clothes looked as if a body had been thrown there. There were boot marks around the indentation, as well, though the prints were only partial.

"Maybe call in some Campus Police guys." Britt said. "But except for me, they'd be out of jurisdiction here, also."

"Oh shit." I said as I saw headlights of cars approaching from the South. "Here they come. Not much time." I quickly took pictures and examined the clothing. There was no identification, no wallet. I made it out of the ditch just as two Coltrane County sheriff vehicles pulled up. On seeing us, they turned on their blue lights and shined strong light into our faces.

"And just who might you be?" the Sheriff said, getting out of the first car. He was a bit overweight but not all that much, and his mustache had gray flecking. I knew that from previously meeting him, though; I couldn't really see more than his silhouette right now.

A deputy got out of the first car, also. He was young, clean shaven, just a bit too fresh-faced, but I knew he was no green rookie. Two other deputies got out of the second car but stayed behind the opened doors, in combat preparatory stances.

"We're SBI, Sheriff." I said in my most commanding voice. Britt and I held up our SBI badges with our left hands, keeping our right hands free if we had to draw guns. With Coltrane County Law Enforcement, one was best advised to be prepared for anything.

The Sheriff and Deputy took their hands off their holstered guns but the other two behind them did not relax their stances nor come out from behind their car doors.

"We're investigating a murder that took place up the road, just across the County line. It looks like these are the dead man's clothes." I said.

"Is that right?" the Sheriff said laconically. "And you did not have the courtesy to call me before coming into my county, eh?"

"We just found the body, didn't even have time to call you." I said.

"Sheriff, do you mind if we have a closer look at those clothes?" Britt asked.

"Why yes, I do mind." said the Sheriff, his voice a whisper but with a foreboding menace behind it. "Deputy Strait, call in for our own forensics team to come out at eight o'clock." Deputy Strait went to the car and got on the radio.

"Come on, Sheriff, you know time is of the essence--" Britt started, but I tapped her shoulder to hush her up. The Sheriff had squared up, a feigned look of indignation on his face.

"You fucking bitch, you don't tell me to 'come on' in my county, do you fucking understand me? I just said that MY people will examine this evidence, and I'll do it on my own goddamned time, you hear me, bitch?" he said, his voice a harsh rasp. He went over and looked in the ditch as the morning light grew stronger. I noticed him looking over the ground.

"Sheriff, is there any reason why you would not want to help us solve a murder? I asked.

"You think you State people can just walk into my county without telling me and do whatever the goddamn hell you please? Huh?" I noticed that the Sheriff was pacing in a way to deliberately trample over the footprints on the road, totally destroying them as evidence.

"Don't answer him, Captain." I said. "Let's get out of here." I turned and began walking back up the road, north to home. Thankfully, Britt came right along with me.

"Hey! Did I say you could fucking leave?" the Sheriff roared. I stopped and looked back, my hand hovering over my gun.

"What are you going to do, Sheriff? Shoot us in the back?" I asked, my voice cold and confrontational.

"I goddamn well might." the Sheriff said, his hand going for his gun.

"Before you do something stupid," I said, my voice stopping him, "you better understand that there are several cars of police just over the county line. They will hear the shots and come right on in here to find out what the shots were about. And if they find us dead they'll blow your asses away without bothering to say a word. They'll chase you into town and kill you in front of everyone that might be there watching. It's your call, Sheriff, if you want to die today."

After a long second of silence, pregnant with tension, I said "C'mon, Captain, let's go."

We turned and began walking north again. The Sheriff did not try to stop us, but I knew they were following in their cars at a distance. We made it back to our side of the county line, where the forensics teams were wrapping up, mostly taking photographs of markings as the light got better.

To everyone's shock, the Coltrane County Sheriff had his three deputies stand side-by-side in a row, three feet inside the county line on his side, holding shotguns at "port arms". The Sheriff stood by them with his arms crossed.

"Make damn sure you don't cross the County line, shitheads." the Sheriff said when we looked over at them. My guys looked over at me with "What the hell?" looks.

I went to my SUV and placed a cellphone call to Hugh Hewitt, telling him to assemble four of his "better trained" guys, meaning the new officers we were going to make into a SWAT team as soon as the politicians let us. I told him to have them come wearing "heavy gear", meaning full bulletproof riot gear, and to bring loaded shotguns.

They got there within fifteen minutes, and I had them stand off with the Coltrane County deputies, standing on the edge of County Road 2, facing the enemy deputies with my guys' shotguns at "port arms". I gave my guys orders, well within the hearing of everyone, that if the Coltrane County deputies even pointed their guns across the county line, that our guys were to blow them away, to kill them without a second thought nor the least compunction.

"My guys are wearing bulletproof gear, Sheriff." I said. "Yours are looking mighty puny in their bare shirts. And by the way, Sheriff... your lack of cooperation will be made known to the SBI and the FBI as well. I think a State audit of every aspect of your County, from the Water Works to the dogcatcher records, is in order, whaddya say?"

"Go fuck yourself, Mr. Iron Crowbar... yeah, I know who the fuck you are." the Sheriff said. "And bring your auditors on, they won't find jack shit wrong in my county. They know better."

The Sheriff did not remove his deputies until the last of my team had packed up and left for home.

Part 4 - It's In The Bag

I was in the MCD room by 7:00am, drinking a delicious and nutritious Carnation chocolate milkshake and watching the morning news. No way I'd miss a day without seeing the lovely Bettina!

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" said the lovely redhead reporter, standing on County Road 2 not far from where the crime scene was. "Channel Two News has learned that a dead body was found in a culvert just down the road from our position here. The victim is described as a young white male. He was found without any clothes, and he had no ID on him. Police say that there was no blood or signs of violence, but that foul play has not yet been ruled out at this early stage of the investigation..."

The rest of Bettina's report was inconsequential, but my attention was arrested by something else Bettina said: "Let's go straight to the national desk and Priya Ajmani, with an update on the drug shootout in Miami!"

"Thank you, Bettina!" said the gorgeous Indian woman. "This is Priya Ajmani, KXTC Channel Two News! The FBI has updated us on the shootout in Miami a couple of weeks ago that left six people dead and two seriously wounded. One of those killed was a junior diplomat from the Venezuelan delegation, who was attending the OAS diplomatic conference. The Venezuelan Government has accused the United States of lax security, but the State Department has reiterated that the diplomat had left the security zones around the hotel and conference center, and was associating at two o'clock in the morning with well-known drug runners. A quantity of drugs as well as guns and other weapons was found at the scene. It appears that there was a falling out between the gangs making the deal, and in the exchange of gunfire the Venezuelan diplomat was shot a total of eight times..."

As I wondered to myself if the Miami Police would bother checking the calibers of the bullets that struck the sleazebag Venezuelan diplomat, I saw the Chief walk down the hall and into his office. I followed him to report on the situation here at home, making sure to bring along a cup of coffee for him.

"So you lined up four of our guys right up against theirs, eh?" the Chief said after I'd finished my report, smiling as he sat down and drank his coffee. "Shit, their sheriff down there is a real idiot and a dickhead, too. He's on the take, dirty as hell. You're lucky that he didn't shoot you in the back when you walked away from him. So you watched him stepping on footprint evidence on purpose, eh?"

"Yes sir," I said, "and I don't know how we're going to get those clothes now."

"Well," the Chief said, "we may can simply formally request the evidence from their evidence team, but their guys aren't Detective Perlman or her team. They're so bad that it'll be useless, you won't find anything but their contamination."

"Yeah, I know." I said, frustrated. "And how to investigate that spot without bringing in the SBI, that's what I don't know how to do."

"I'll be honest with you, kid," Chief Griswold said, unconsciously calling me 'kid' whenever he had something to teach me, "a case that straddles a county line like this almost has to have the SBI brought in, especially when dealing with a piece of shit like that bozo in Coltrane County."

"So who can we bring in that we can halfway trust?" I asked. "Ted Crenshaw? Carter Fischer?"

"I'd say Ted Orosco if he wasn't in Midtown." the Chief said, "but I'll tell you what, let me work up through some channels to see what I can do about it."

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At 9:00am, Martin Nash came into the Chief's office with me to give his first report.

"First of all, the M.E. found skin under the victim's fingernails, and some bodily fluids from around and just inside the tip of his penis." Martin Nash said. "Tanya-- Detective Perlman is very excited about the possibility of DNA evidence of the woman she believes he was having sex with when he died."

"That's good news." I said. "Any idea of who he is?"

"Not yet. Fingerprints turned up negative." Nash said. "Not surprising: he's young, probably hasn't been arrested or anything like that. No missing persons reports have been filed with us, the University Police or the State for this area, nor the FBI. I've talked with Captain Maxwell, and she's got her people working to see if the guy comes up as a University student."

"Did you contact the Athletic Department?" I asked.

"I placed a call, but there's no one there nor in the coaches' offices. Captain Maxwell said she'd handle contacting them from this point on."

"Any ideas about what happened, Crowbar?" the Chief asked.

"No sir." I said. "I'm eagerly awaiting the toxicology report. Detective Perlman said she'd try to have a preliminary report by noon. Alcohol poisoning, drugs, something party-related is my first thought. Martin, any ideas?"

"Totally agree with you." Martin Nash said. "I think identifying the guy is going to be the toughest part. Once we have that, we'll find out if he overdosed at a party or something."

"So why dump the body in a ditch on County Road 2?" the Chief asked astutely.

"More than that, Chief..." I said. "Why was the body moved into our County after being dumped in Coltrane County?"

"What?" said the Chief. Martin Nash peered at me also.

"The body was dumped in the ditch in Coltrane County and the victim's clothes thrown in the ditch with him." I said. "I believe someone then moved the body into our County, leaving the clothes behind. There were a ton of tracks leading up the dirt road to the spot the clothes were found... but only one set of tracks coming on up across the County line."

"Why in the fuck would someone want to do that?" the Chief said.

I shrugged. "No idea yet."

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At noon the Chief called me into his office.

"I have Deputy Strait of Coltrane County on the line." he said. "He's on speaker. Go ahead, Deputy Strait!"

"Chief, I was wondering if you could send your Lieutenant Crowbar guy down to our town of Buford?" said Deputy Strait.

"And why?" asked the Chief.

"We'd like his help to investigate a serious incident. Our sheriff was found dead in the seat of his car a few minutes ago."

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I had Cindy Ross and Hugh Hewitt come with me, both wearing their heavier bulletproof vests, as my bodyguards. I also wore my light body armor under my uniform shirt. I was carrying my blue crowbar while Cindy had a police baton and Hugh kept his hands free and ready to employ his holstered guns.

"Sheriff Strait," I said, giving the deputy the title as if he were in charge now, "what happened here?" I was looking at the body of the Sheriff, sitting in the driver seat of his car as if he were ready to pull out of the parking lot. He was wearing his sunglasses and had his seat belt on.

"First, Lieutenant," said Strait, very wisely, "I want to tell you how sorry I am about what happened this morning. We deputies were just following orders."

"I'm sure." I said. "I hope that you or whoever the next sheriff is won't be such an asshole."

"Yessir, I agree with you." Strait said. He reminded me of Officer Pete Feeley: young, eager to please, maybe too much so, and desiring to be something he was not ready to be.

"Who found him?" I asked.

"I did." said Strait.

"What did he do and where did he go from the time you guys left the county line this morning until you found the body?" I asked.

"We came back here, and he was in his office all morning." Strait said. "I know he called our State Representative and State Senator to complain about you, and then he closed the door and made a lot more calls, but I don't know who to. Then he said he was going to go out, didn't say where, and went to his car. I looked out a few minutes later and he was still sitting there, so I went to see if he needed anything."

I had my magnifying glass out as Strait talked. It was rectangular instead of circular. I examined the dead Sheriff's neck at the collar-line of his shirt, and saw what I expected to see.

"Strait, take a look at this." I said. Strait looked with the magnifying glass. "See that tiny red speck on his neck, here on the back left side just at the shirt collar line? I think that's where a syringe needle was stuck into his neck, and he was injected with something. You guys!" I said, pointing to the other deputies. "Come look at this. Ross, Hewitt, you take a look too."

As everyone took turns examining the tiny red dot with the glass, I said "Sheriff Strait, I'd suggest that you tell your medical examiner to do a full toxicology workup on the body. Better yet, you may want to call in the SBI or FBI and ask them to assist with the forensics."

"Yessir, but what happened?" Strait asked.

"I think when your Sheriff got into the car, someone very quickly came up to him, put a gun to his temple and told him not to move, then injected him with the drug. It's fast acting, and the perp may have stayed a few seconds holding the Sheriff at gunpoint before running away. I'd suggest you have your guys canvas the area and see if any unusual persons were seen in the parking lot or at the car window when the Sheriff got in."

"Could the perp have been in the car, waiting for him?" Cindy asked.

"Maybe," I said, "but you'd think the perp would then have the Sheriff drive off a ways before injecting him. Also, there is a plexiglass shield between the front and back seats, so if the Sheriff was injected through the window in the middle of the plexiglass, I'd expect the injection to take place on the right side of the neck instead of where it is at on the left side."