The Murdered Football Player Ch. 06

"Let me thank you for tonight, Don." Molly said as she began shifting her position, intending to go down on me. "I think I'm pregnant, and my dream of having your baby is going to come true. And I want to thank you for being the father of my child, Don... I want you to come in my mouth this time, Don. I want to swallow your cum."

"Mmmm, sure baby." I said. I moaned as I felt Molly's mouth descend on my hardening shaft, just relaxing and enjoying the hot pleasure of being fellated by the lovely blonde policewoman, not even worrying about her words of possibly being impregnated by me...

Part 31 - Morning Wrap

When Molly and I walked into MCD together at 6:00am Friday morning, Cindy Ross was already there, drinking coffee at her desk and reading the news online. Her glance at us told her everything, and her facial expression told me everything.

Tanya Perlman was also there, and poured Molly and myself coffee as she said "You were right about the SBI concealing the information that Kip Starnes's girlfriend Abby Winters told them. She told them right away that Jackson raped her, and they actually told her that he didn't and for her not to say anything else about it."

"How did you find out?" I asked.

"Ted Crenshaw found out for me." Tanya said. "Of course the blowjob I gave him helped persuade him. I do have one question: what does your wife say about average penis size?"

"She says that five inches is average." I said. "Why?"

"Pete is five inches." Tanya said, "and of course larger size runs in your family, if you and Todd are any indicator... so I found one of the shorter ones... much shorter one... that is keeping the average where it is, attached to Ted Crenshaw."

"I'll be sure to tell my wife... for her research, of course." I said.

Molly went over to Cindy and asked "Is this the normal conversation around here?"

Cindy replied without looking up: "Sister, this is nothing. Just wait until Hugh gets here. He and Tanya will have a contest to see who can make Martin blush the most."

I love my team, I love my team, I thought to myself as I drank my coffee...

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The 7:00am broadcast was a thing of beauty, and not just because of Bettina's beautiful face:

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News! Channel Two News has learned of another bombshell in the case of the death of Jefferson Jackson! Just hours after the SBI declared the case closed and the death by natural causes, one Tommy--" she named the kid's full name "-- voluntarily confessed to Town & County Police that he had murdered Jackson by spiking the football player's drink at a party. Chief Griswold of the Town & County Police issued a statement that the suspect insisted upon confessing to the crime, and the local police are now investigating further to corroborate the information given by the suspect."

"Channel Two News has learned that the suspect confessed that Jefferson Jackson was having sex with the suspect's fiancee, who has given a statement confirming her affair with Jackson, and that this might have been the motive for the murder of Jackson."

Bettina continued: "Because of irregularities in the suspect's confession, the District Attorney's office is proceeding with caution and asking local police to confirm the suspect's story. District Attorney Gil Krasney has not given a statement yet, but he is expected to later this morning."

"Who the hell leaked all that to her?" the Chief asked as he walked into the room. "Crowbar, that's your next assignment."

"Already solved, sir." I said. Everyone looked at me in amazement, except the one person who was the leak...

"Come to my office." said the Chief. "Ross, Perlman, both of you as well."

-------------------

"So, how did you find out that Jackson raped those women?" the Chief said after we were seated in his office.

"I deduced it more than discovered it, sir." I said. "Jackson's parents mentioned a rift between families, then we had the story of Starnes confronting Jackson in the locker room, accusing him of rape. And despite what Tommy and Candy have allegedly confessed to, I remember seeing something in her eyes haunting her when we talked to them at Lake Ocheekobee Country Club. It fit, and quite frankly is the best and only real reason why Jackson would be singled out for death."

"Interesting." the Chief said. "And that reminds me... in all my years of law enforcement I have never so much as seen, much less been asked to approve an expense from two officers for playing golf. Only you two could actually do that and make it work." He meant me and Cindy Ross. Tanya was not totally successful in suppressing a giggle.

"But did you approve it, sir?" I asked.

"Yeah... but only because I wanted to watch Payroll go ape-shit over it." the Chief replied, a merry grin beneath his twitching mustaches.

"I think you're going to be even happier this morning, Chief... when Jack Lewis gets the news of Tommy's confession. He's going to really go ape-shit, as will Nathan Allen."

"Harummph!" the Chief said. "And that's why I called you in... we have an appointment with District Attorney Krasney at 10:00am sharp... in Judge Folsom's chambers. That means you too, Perlman. You and Ross can head back to MCD; I need a word with Don a moment."

After the ladies left, the Chief said to me "Okay, so who is the leak?"

"Why Chief, it's easy to deduce." I said, smiling. "Jack Lewis can't go ape-shit if Bettina doesn't announce the information to the world... so I daresay the leaker was the person in that room this morning who hates leaks the most."

The Chief's sideways look at me might have been a murder weapon if looks could kill, but his next expression was one of resignation.

"Can't keep a damn thing from you. Get back to MCD and prepare for the meeting with the D.A. You'll need to be well prepared and on your toes for it."

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Theo and Franklin Washington came in at 8:30am, both looking downcast. "The Riordans are out of state right now, attending the University's away game."

"That's okay." I said. "They're both going to invoke the minute we talk to them. But we can force them to do that when they get home."

"Something else about it." Theo said. "We contacted the Nextdoor County Police and asked them to watch for their return and let us know... and their Chief himself got on the phone. He dressed us down like dogs, then said we were to leave the Riordans alone."

"Oh really?" said Chief Griswold as he came into the room. "I know their chief, he's a good man. I think I'll give him a call, and see what's going on."

"No!" I said suddenly, then realized everyone was looking at me. "Sorry, Chief. I just realized why he was like that. If you don't mind, let me handle it Monday."

Part 32 - Sisters, Redux

Just before leaving for our meeting with the Judge and D.A., I strode into Vice and to Teresa Cunt's desk.

"Teresa," I said, "I have tried and I have failed. I don't know how to get Cindy and Molly talking."

"That's because you're a man, and men aren't worth a shit about things like that." Teresa Cunt said, very much enjoying her words. The other Vice detectives in the room were looking at her in utter shock.

"Go to your meeting, Lieutenant. I'll take care of it." Teresa said. I quickly left.

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Cindy and Molly were on opposite sides of MCD as they got their paperwork in order to close the Case of the Murdered Football Player. Teresa came into the room and came up to Molly, who was near the front door, closest to the door to Vice.

"Molly, can I ask you a question?" Teresa asked Molly quietly as she pulled up a chair next to her.

"Sure, go ahead." Molly said, her face a mask of inquiry.

"Molly... if a drunk driver crossed the centerline and wiped Cindy out, how would you feel?" Teresa asked, her eyes boring into Molly's.

"Wha... what? How could you ask something like that." Molly replied, shocked and indignant.

"I'm serious." Teresa said. "If a drunk driver killed your sister, or if she died today, how would you feel? What would you desperately wish you'd have said to her that you didn't say?"

Molly's eyes burned right back into Teresa's, who only nodded when she saw that Molly had seen the light. "Go talk to her now." Teresa said.

Molly nodded and got up and went over to Cindy. "Can we talk?" Molly asked her younger sister. The two blonde tomboy policewomen left by the back door and headed for the conference room.

My work here is done, Teresa thought to herself, and Don owes me a big one.

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District Attorney Gil Krasney was a tall, thin man with a full head of wavy dark brown hair that he kept fairly long and combed straight back. He had a long nose and dark, piercing eyes. He was a good District Attorney that delegated cases well and had his ADAs' backs, but he didn't like losing cases so we had to be on our toes with him. In addition, he was an elected official and very tuned to the political landscape regarding his office and his cases.

Judge Folsom was a middle age man beginning to put on weight and his hair was beginning to gray... what hair he still had left, that is. His face was roundish, showing that weight was going to be a problem for him in the coming years. He was a decent judge, but tended to a bit skeptical and untrusting of the Police.

Also at the meeting this morning were ADAs Paulina Patterson and Franklin Washington, myself, Chief Griswold and SBI Deputy Director Tom Conlan. Director Jack Lewis had made a point to refuse to attend, citing a meeting with the Governor in Midtown at the same time.

"Don't get me wrong, Lieutenant," said Judge Folsom, "I understand that Dr. Searles and Dr. Fredricson will both give affidavits that if the drugs were mixed beforehand, their efficacy diminishes, and that that will make the kid's confession practically worthless. But it's still a confession, and this kid is already begging to plead guilty. So what is it you want me to do?"

"Don't accept the guilty plea, Your Honor." I said. "If the District Attorney will ask for a psychological evaluation, and let the psychologists try to break the hypnosis I think the kid was put under, as well as do that for his fiancee, we might can get to the truth."

"Krasney?" the Judge said.

"Lieutenant, you said you do think this kid administered part of the drugs, is that right?" D.A. Krasney asked me, pointedly.

"Yes, sir, but I can't prove it." I said.

"You don't need to, the kid confessed to it." Krasney said.

"Yes sir, but we're getting circular here: he also 'confessed' to mixing the drugs beforehand, and therefore that should not have killed Jackson." I replied. "What I can't prove is what happened: that the kid, wittingly or not, on his own or under hypnotic suggestion, administered the first part of the drug in the punch; and that Janet Riordan administered the second drug, likewise on her own or under suggestion."

"And she's technically already lawyered up, and she and her husband very likely will do so again when we bring them in under the material witness warrants, and I can't even make a case for a criminal arrest warrant based upon what we have... or more accurately, don't have." added Paulina Patterson.

"Krasney, if you're willing to ask for the psychological eval, I'll back that up." the Judge said, a technical victory for the ol' Iron Crowbar.

"With respect, Your Honor," said Krasney, "if the psychologists do find that Tommy was acting under hypnosis, or that his girlfriend was likewise giving her statement under such hypnosis, it'll probably shred the case altogether and no one will pay for Jackson's death."

"Likewise with respect, Your Honor," I said, "it's the same circle: the confession he gave will be shredded at trial, even if a Grand Jury or the D.A. brings charges. And if we put Kip Starnes' girlfriend Abby Winters on the stand, she'll testify under oath that Jackson forcibly raped her, which will cast doubt on Tommy and Candy's statements to this point. At least with the psychologists, we might find out the truth..."

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It was early afternoon when I got back to Headquarters. It warmed my heart to see Cindy and Molly sitting side-by-side, discussing something... and I could tell they'd both had some emotional moments in the last few hours.

"How did you do it?" I asked Teresa in the Vice room. She just gave me what passed for a smile for her.

"Girl power." she said. "You wouldn't understand."

"Well, just one last thing to do to keep them close." I said.

"What's that?" Teresa asked.

"Alcohol, to cement it. Let's take them to the Cop Bar tonight."

"No argument from me on that." Teresa said. "I need some 'cementing' myself."

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The 6:00pm news was chock-full of good stuff from the lovely Bettina:

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News! Channel Two News has learned that the District Attorney's office has called for a psychological evaluation of young Tommy--" she named our confession wannabee. "The District Attorney is not satisfied that he is of sound enough mind to rationally confess to the murder of Jefferson Jackson."

"Meanwhile, the State Bureau of Investigation has formally closed the Jackson investigation, brushing off questions that they withheld information from local law enforcement concerning the case. Director Jack Lewis was especially harsh in his statement that the Town & County Police, especially Chief Griswold, were more harmful than helpful in the investigation.

"Chief Griswold replied by a formal statement that he had never seen such incompetence as the SBI's handling of the case, citing a laundry list of problems including the failure to run samples and failure to make available important information. Chief Griswold even went so far as to suggest the Governor ask for Director Lewis's resignation from the SBI."

"Oooo-wee!" I exclaimed as we crowded around the MCD television to watch. Everyone laughed, more at me than at the TV.

"And speaking of the SBI," Bettina continued "while the Governor has given no comment on the status of Director Jack Lewis, he has issued a statement on the SBI Reserve program. The Governor expressed his strong confidence in the program and his happiness with the results of it so far, and he says that the call-up model might be used more widely, especially if cuts are made to the current numbers of full-time agents. The Governor was quick to say that the Narcotics Task Force would not be reduced, compromised, nor affected in any way by the Reserve Program or agent cutbacks."

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"And then... Cindy gets on the sled and starts down, but it starts spinning... she's just flying down the hill, all arms and legs and spinning out of control all the way down..." Molly said between laughs, with Cindy beside her laughing hard. They were both heavily intoxicated already. "And then she crashes at the bottom... we all go running down to see if she's alright, and she just gets up and says 'Can I do it again?'"

We all laughed at the story of six-year-old Cindy's fearless sledding down the mountain. Cindy and Molly had taken the back table on the patio of the Irish Pub, a.k.a. the Cop Bar, joined by Teresa, Tanya and Angela. I was very happy to see the bonding between the sisters: they had truly found a way to make amends earlier, and I'd bought Teresa a beer for her role in it.

Hugh, Martin, Sandra Speer, Daniel Allgood and Theo Washington were at the table nearest the entrance to the building. Laura, Britt Morgan, Melina and Gayle Roberts were at a table near the front of the deck, partially obscured by the building and large, heavy shrubbery.

I was sitting alone at the table nearest the locked gate where steps led down towards the parking lot, wearing my Tilley hat with full-brim, and somewhat disappointed that no one noticed the body armor I was wearing beneath my shirt and sportscoat. I was watching Jack Muscone, who had just gotten back into town, trying to compete with Ben Crenshaw and Pete Feeley for Tanya's attention. With great amusement I watched as Crenshaw and then Muscone capitulate. Muscone came over to me and sat in the chair to my left. I noticed that Jack was wearing light body armor under his clothes, as well.

"Don, I just don't know what she sees in that guy." Jack said.

"She likes your dick, Jack, but she's in love with Pete." I said. "And if there is one thing I've learned about life, it is to never, ever question the course of true love."

"Yeah, good point." Jack said.

"So where've you been, Jack?" I asked. "The State has just about torn itself apart, especially the SBI, and you weren't here to watch the fun."

"I know, I miss all the good parties." Jack said. "I was in Miami. I was having to look into that mess about the Venezuelan diplomat getting shot in that gang-war drug-shooting. The guy was part of it, but the Venezuelans are raising holy hell about it anyway."

"Just call him a spy... like the Chinese diplomat killed in San Francisco some months ago." I said. "The Red Chinese government clammed up as soon as the State Department came out with that."

"Yeah, I know, I was there--" Jack said, then stopped himself as if he'd said too much. "What do you know about that?" he asked in a way of distracting me.

"Just what I read in the papers and on the police blogs." I said. "Similar M.O. to Dr. Benjamin Mays, too. Did you check that one out, too?"

"You're starting to know too much again." said Jack. "Keep it up and we're going to force you to join the FBI just to slap a confidentiality agreement onto you."

"Heh!" I said. "Speaking of that, there may be a way I can help you guys out from time to time--"

*RATTA TATTA RATTA TATTA TATTA*

Splinters sprayed from the building above the door line as machine gun bullets plowed into the walls. Everyone hit the ground, some screaming. I turned as I went down, seeing a car with three thugs at the far end of the parking lot firing out of the windows of the car.

It was a surreal moment for me... the screams seemed to fade to a near quietness. I could see very clearly the men firing, the bursts of light from their guns. I was on my feet, over the fence, my gun out and firing back at them, walking towards them in this seemingly unfeeling alternate universe.

The car pulled out and screeched off, but I could see that my shots shattered the back window and passenger side front and back windows as they pulled away. Damn good shooting, I thought, even for myself.

The noise and light and smells came back to me all at once as Jack Muscone ran up to me, gun drawn. I stopped him, saying "they're gone", and heard him ask if I was all right.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I said. A large number of cops were surrounding me now. My shirt was ripped in two places where bullets had penetrated; my armor had held, I had not even felt the impacts when they happened, but the pain growing in my chest was about to amend that.

But the pain was held by by something else I'd seen just as I was jumping the gate to go after the perps. Literally everything was imprinted on my memory, and I had noticed that Cindy had tackled Molly and laid down on top of her; hopefully whatever problems they had were now past them and they would be good friends as well as sisters going forward.

"Jesus, Don, are you okay?," someone said, "you could've been killed going after them like that." I realized that it was my wife Laura, and she was trying to see if I was injured. Her quick examination showed that no blood had been drawn.

Pete Feeley came up and gave me my hat, which had come off my head... a bullet had gone through the top, right next to the Airborne wings I had affixed to the hat.