The Saga Continues Ch. 04

"Combat veterans have that kinship," I said, "like we Police Officers do."

"That's true." said Teresa. "Anyway, I've been going to Ladies Auxiliary meetings with Cindy fairly steadily. I asked Mrs. Myrtle L. James if she remembered much about Tammy Cochran, and I got my ear talked off for an hour. But it was worth listening to."

"What did you learn?" I asked.

"J.G. McGill was like a Boss Hogg in the County, and he was really, really bitter about the merger." said Teresa. "Most people thought it was about his own power, but Mrs. James and a few others believed it was about racial issues. She explained that while the County and Town were separated, the Town was slowly being politically taken over by the Liberals and the Blacks, while the rural County remained mostly white and in control of Whites."

"So J.G. was a racist?" I mused.

"Not overtly, according to Mrs. James and a few of the other women, like Mrs. Williams." said Teresa. "But J.G. McGill definitely was what you would today call a 'White Nationalist'. He liked things the old-school way, and was not a proponent of change.

"The funny thing is," Teresa continued, "the merger probably did more harm to blacks creating a political stronghold out of the Town, as the equal-representation Town Assembly carved out black districts but kept them in the minority, and the Town & County Council extended over the County, and diluted Reginald B.F. Lewis's influence, and killed the possibility of another black being elected to the Council."

"Just another piece to the puzzle." I said. "That's interesting, but it doesn't seem to add much to the Tammy Cochran murder case."

"Well, sir," said Teresa, "one other tidbit I got was that after the merger, J.G. McGill and Thomas P. Cook quietly did some land swaps. The land J.G. McGill owned near Crown Chemicals was sold to Northwest Properties Management, which is Thomas P. Cook's main real estate company. NPM never sold that land, but rented it out; first to BigAgraFoods, who farmed it then let the lease go; then to smaller farming concerns similar to Harmon Biller's cooperative farm in Coltrane County. (Author's note: 'Case of the Paper Trail'.) Dora Ellis was the operator of one of those cooperatives."

"Then there was the sale of the land just north of McGill's home, near the Nextdoor County line." said Teresa. "It was deeded over to the County, and McGill was essentially paid for it with tax write-offs and other tax breaks. It's not clear what the status of that land is, now. Private property held by the County, or public property."

I made a mental note to check that out. I then asked Teresa "Did you tell Cindy or Theo about this?"

"Not yet." said Teresa. "I wanted you to hear it first."

"Go ahead and tell them." I said.

"There is one other thing I need to tell you, between Clan Troy members." said Teresa. "Did you know that Cindy is taking accounting classes at night at the University?"

"Yes, I knew. Several people told Laura, who told me." I said, which was true. "No big deal; she's running a gym, she has real estate holdings, and she's going to inherit her father's massive self-help empire one day, which she'll either have to run or sell. Either way, she needs to know a lot."

"She's trying to apply it to Police work, too." said Teresa. "She's been working with Sonali, Purvis, and Mary Milton in Vice, having them lead her through all the labyrinth of finances in the drug world. Tough stuff. We never really replaced Julie Newton's accounting abilities, either, but Cindy is picking it up fast."

"True." I said, then continued as if it were an afterthought: "If Cindy keeps this up... she could run the Police Department's budget as Deputy Commander." Teresa about broke her neck whirling to look at me. I just glanced sideways at her...

Then Carole came up to us. "Trr-ee-sa, what is that around your neck?"

"That's my Clan Troy necklace, sweetie." Teresa said, showing my daughter the icon of Clan Troy on the gold necklace.

"If it's Clan Troy, do I get one, Daddy?" Carole asked, looking hopefully up at me.

"When you're twelve years old, Carole." I said. "Per Japanese tradition."

"Okay." said Carole, who then moved out smartly to get her share of the ice cream being served...

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

Sunday, November 5th. Guy Fawkes Day. Please to remember...

We had a birthday party for Ross McAlister Troy, now age 3, at The Cabin. Boy! these kids were growing up fast! I thought to myself. Molly and her mother Maggie Ross were there, as were Cindy... and Callie.

Maggie had been shocked to learn some months earlier that the sweet, pretty blonde she had met was indeed her daughter's beloved girlfriend. But because Callie had made a point to get to know Maggie beforehand, on her own, things went much better than Cindy had expected... and feared.

"Wow, Chief of Police." Callie said to Molly. "When?"

"January 2d. And it's official." said Molly.

"Can't believe my old buddy Chief Malden finally retired." said Griswold.

"He must've seen how much fun you're having in retirement, Chief." said Cindy.

"That's what I mean." growled Griswold, shaking his head. "He's retiring even after I told him not to!" That made me laugh.

"Now you're going to have to share the fish in Lake Reservoir with Chief Malden, sir." I said.

"Harumph." said Chief Griswold grumpily. "That man is almost as bad a fisherman as you are, Crowbar." That brought the house down; even Laura broke down laughing.

"I'll stick to being a fisher of criminals." I said. "Fisher..." I went into a reverie.

"Uh oh." said Callie with her beautiful smile. "I've seen that look before. And criminals get busted not long after we see it."

Part 19 - A War Hero Goes Home

Tuesday, November 7th. It was Election Day, though we had no elections in our Town & County. And the Council was not meeting tonight.

"What's the Commander working on?" asked Joanne Warner in MCD. He stayed in his office all day yesterday, and all day today so far."

"Probably staying out of our way, so we'll work on this case without him." said Theo. That got Joanne looking at the whiteboards.

"We're missing something." she said. "There's got to be something we overlooked."

"I'll be darned if I know what it is." said Captain Ross, coming into MCD with several folders full of papers. "I've gone through the McGill's finances for the last fourteen years. Judge McGill's were pretty easy, and she and her tax preparers had every 'i' dotted and 't' crossed, everything accounted for... to... the... penny."

"What about Mr. McGill, ma'am?" asked Joanne.

"His stuff is more complex." Cindy said. "But everything seems to be in order. He used real estate tax law to his advantage numerous times. I could follow that, as I've been doing the same things in real estate myself. All aboveboard. I don't see anything out of the ordinary or crossing the lines."

"Commander Troy said something about him selling that parcel of land where the pond and the clearing were." said Theo Washington. "Anything to that financially?"

"I'm going to refer that one to the City Attorney." said Cindy. "J.G. McGill was paid almost double the going rate at the time for it, though in tax write-offs and breaks, but it's totally unclear if it's public land now or if the County owns it as private land."

Cindy continued: "Nothing unusual in the finances of Benny Cochran or Tommy McGill, either. Both just making their livings."

"Ma'am," said Theo, "do you think the Commander knows what happened in this case?"

Cindy grunted. "If he had a provable case, he wouldn't be fooling around; he'd be getting warrants and making arrests. He's not going to let perps get away. So no, I don't think he's solved it. But does he have an idea of what happened, and maybe is working something? That's far more likely."

"Ma'am, I know he wants us to get better and better," said Joanne, "but sometimes I wish he'd let us know what he's thinking, so we can see it and learn from it."

"Welcome to my world, Detective Warner." Cindy said. "Welcome to my world." Joanne grinned. Cindy did not.

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

Tuesday evening, November 7th. I got a call on my Police iPhone that I did not want to get. I thanked the caller for the information, then disconnected.

"What is it?" Laura asked, looking up at me as we sat in the greatroom, her on the sofa against the wall, me in the hardback rocking chair next to it and next to the window.

"That was Nurse Jones." I said. "Mr. Davis is beginning to become bloated, and he's not waking up. It looks like he's shutting down." Laura just nodded. Bowser came up to me and hopped onto my lap, seeming to know that I needed to pet a dog right now, and I availed myself of his canine generosity...

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

2:05am, Wednesday, November 8th. The Death Cat was observed as he walked down the hall of the hospice wing of University Hospital. The nurses at their station glanced at each other, and then went back to their work.

The Death Cat came into Mr. Davis's room, hopped up onto the bedside table, sat down and just watched. The old man opened his eyes and looked up. "Hello, kitty." he said, feeling the Death Cat waiting with him. He felt no pain, just the fullness of his life welling inside him.

A few moments later, Mr. Davis turned his head toward the window. Everything seemed black, except for the moonlight, which was drained of color. He realized he was in a meadow in the dark of night, and he felt young again. He was in his Army fatigues, and a plane of 1944 vintage was in front of him. Then he saw the two soldiers from his unit.

"Come on, Davis!" growled the Sergeant. "Time's a-wastin!"

"Sarge!" said Davis. "Where are we jumping to?"

"We're not jumping this time, Davis!" his buddy Strait said happily, his mannerisms and seeming eager happiness just like his great-nephew in Coltrane County. "This plane is taking us Home!"

Davis climbed aboard, followed by Sarge and Strait. All of the men of his unit were there, and greeted him enthusiastically. He was the last of them to board this plane for this ride Home.

The plane began rolling, bumping over the uneven ground of the meadow, picking up speed then finally lifting off the ground. As they rode into the dark of the night, a Light above them began shining. It grew brighter and brighter as the plane approached, taking these heroes Home...

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

His duty once again done, the Death Cat hopped off the bedside table and exited the room as the nurses opened the door in response to the heart monitor's monotone alarm.

Part 20 - Duty and Diligence

I was sleeping fitfully, when I thought I heard Bowser growl. I opened my eyes, seeing only the bluish-gray of moonlight, devoid of color, lighting up everything.

I was in bed alone; Laura was not sleeping beside me. I got up and looked around. Carole's room was empty, neither my daughter nor her dog in their normal beds. I thought I heard Bowser growl again, this time downstairs. I went down to look.

Going into the living room, I saw bluish light streaming into the window. It could not be moonlight; this window faced north. I went over and looked out, and a chill ran down my spine. In the middle of the driveway a man was standing, perfectly still. He was wearing a suit and black tie, and his head was devoid of features.

It was the Slender Man.

I rushed to the door to run out, but the door wouldn't open. When I ran back and looked out the window again, the driveway was empty. The Slender Man was no longer visible.

"Laura!" I began calling out. "Where are you?" I began looking around, frantically searching for her. "Laura!"

Suddenly I was sitting up in my bed. Laura had just turned on the bedside lamp, having heard me scream out her name. "What is it, darling?" she asked. "You okay?"

I tried to wake up, get my senses back together. "I... I must've been dreaming. You weren't here, and I was looking for you..." I was bathed in sweat, I realized. Laura was already getting up. Bloodwork was about to be taken.

After Laura took blood, I looked around the house. Carole was sleeping peacefully in her bed. In the basket at the foot of the bed, the redoubtable Bowser was sitting up, looking at me, either wondering what the hell was wrong with me or letting me know he was on guard duty. I looked outside the bedroom window at the driveway. Just my Police SUV sitting there...

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

At 5:30am, Wednesday, November 8th, I went to the Station, still a bit rattled from my dream earlier that night. As usual, I went to the Duty Desk from behind and found the Sergeant and Patrolman alert and doing their work.

"Sir!" said the Duty Desk Sergeant when I came up. "The Hospital called a few hours ago. They asked us to tell you that Mr. Davis died in his sleep."

I nodded my head sadly. "Okay. Thanks."

"Sir, who was Mr. Davis?" asked the Patrol Officer.

"He was a soldier in World War 2." I said. "Jumped behind the lines on D-Day, set up the landing zones for the Paratroopers." The Duty Desk Officers nodded in understanding.

I went down to my office and did my usual morning routine of reading emails and duty logs. Then I walked down the hallway to the gym. In the gym was Cindy Ross and several Officers, and my Captain of Detectives was leading them in martial arts forms.

I then walked down to Courthouse Square. The Boy Scouts had been raising the flag at 6:30am or 7:00am, depending on when sunrise happened, every day for several years. I admired their diligence and tenacity.

They were preparing to raise the flag when I came up, wearing my Duty Dress jacket and a tie with my normal uniform, which was not incorrect.

"Hi guys." I said as I came up to them. "I have a favor to ask you." I told them that Mr. Davis had died, and told them of his exploits and heroism in World War 2, and that I would appreciate it if they brought the American Flag to half-staff today.

I was then surprised to see University ROTC Cadets marching along College Avenue and across the Square up to the flagpole. Several TCPD Officers, whose duty was to monitor Courthouse Square and the statue of President Jefferson overnight, also came up. And to my even greater surprise, Captain Teresa Croyle came up to me, wearing her Duty Dress jacket over her uniform.

"I heard about Mr. Davis, sir." she said. I didn't ask how or why.

The Boy Scouts raised the flag as the bugler sounded Reveille. They did it correctly, raising the flag to the top of the staff, then back halfway down. They would correctly bring it to the top then back down when the flag was lowered in the late afternoon, as well. All the rest of us saluted, remembering Mr. Davis and his comrades in battle who made raising this Flag every day possible to this day...

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

I called the U.S. Army's number for the people that did funerals, as I had for Teresa's father and a few other occasions. I'd called the week before to advise them of Mr. Davis's impending death and who he was, and they said they'd get ready and send a team after he passed away.

Today I learned that they were going to send elements of the 82d Airborne Division's Chorus as well as a pallbearer team. And then I was asked some interesting questions, which I answered.

I called the Coltrane County Sheriff's Office, and left a message for Deputy Strait. And then I made some more calls, and some arrangements. Laura called me later that morning and confirmed the arrangements.

Teresa Croyle knocked on the door and peeked in. "Come on in." I said. "It was nice of you to come to the Flag-raising this morning."

"It was my honor." Teresa said. She then peered hard at me and said "So, Commander, another Slender Man dream, eh?"

My eyes widened with shock. "How... did you know that?" I asked, totally stunned.

"I told you, sir," Teresa said, "it's the legend. The Slender Man is after you, and he's going to come for you."

"You are not making me feel any better today." I said. Teresa just shrugged. And then I realized it: "What, do you have Slender Man dreams, too?"

"No sir." said Teresa. "And I have no way to explain this, but I just sense it when you do. Like I sense Amy's presence through Buddy, but that's a good thing. The Slender Man... not so much. Not a good thing at all..."

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

10:00am, Wednesday, November 8th. Joanne Warner was looking at the whiteboards yet again. Theo was at his desk, getting paperwork done. Jermaine Davis and Teddy Parker were putting in case notes of the home invasion and armed robbery they were investigating.

"You know, guys," said Joanne, "I think I understand what the Commander was talking about."

"About specifically what?" asked Teddy Parker.

"He said that Judge McGill retired right after Tammy Cochran disappeared, and that he considered that important." Joanne said. "I think I understand why."

Everyone brought chairs over to the whiteboards, and Joanne began lecturing: "Judge McGill was by all accounts a very powerful judge in all the State, and especially in this region. So why would she give all that up? If her son had murdered Tammy, one would think she'd retain that power to help envelop Tommy in legal hoops to protect him. She could find ways to obstruct any investigation into him. Or just the opposite: she could throw him under the bus if the authorities came close to Tommy."

"Same for her husband, wouldn't you say?" asked Theo.

"That's part of what I'm thinking." Joanne said. "If it's her son that's guilty, and that came out, then she's humiliated, but probably not included in the suspicion. But if her husband was the guilty party, then she might even be considered an accomplice. So, she retires and walks away with her pension, still has clout, and the other shoe never dropped."

"Yeah, I think I see what you're getting at." said Jerome. "Though it seems a bit of a finesse. It does show that she did not intend to throw her husband to the dogs."

"Exactly." said Joanne. "And maybe it shows she believed her husband committed the crime."

"I'm having a problem matching this up with Dinah Cochran." said Teddy Parker. "If the theory that she was behind Dinah's harsh sentence is true, why would she do that? Retire, I mean."

"I don't think it's related." said Joanne. "And by that I mean the reasons can be totally unrelated. It's still confusing, though, and there are a lot of questions still to be answered."

Joanne then continued: "Alternatively, if her husband or her son did it, either might've expected her to use her power as a judge to protect them. She wasn't going to put them in jail, but she had integrity enough to resign so that that option was not available to Tammy's killer."

"I like that idea much better." said Jerome Davis.

"But she's been doing everything she can to stop us from re-investigating this case." said Theo. "That doesn't strike me as overly honest."

"Unless..." Joanne said, thinking about it, then getting it, "unless... well, you know how the Commander sometimes talks of someone 'protesting too much'?" She made air quotes as she said the last words. "We gotta ask, why is Judge McGill so blatantly trying to stop us, when she has to know that we're not going to stop, that her actions actually are getting our hackles up, and you know Commander Troy is not going to be intimidated by her and all her king's horses and men combined."

"So she wants us to keep digging?" asked Teddy, "when it might mean we find something on her son, or her husband?"

"Or..." said Joanne thoughtfully, "... maybe there's something else for us to find out, here... not the murder; it's unlikely we'll ever get a Court case on that, unless someone confesses, but maybe there's something else here..."