This story is part of an ongoing series.
The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.
Part 16 - Red Crowbar, White Mountains
"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the lovely redheaded reporterette at 7:00am, Monday, May 8th, from in front of City Hall. "Channel Two News has learned that a complaint has been filed against the Town & County Police and Commander Donald Troy!"
Bettina went on, smiling with pleasure as she reported: "Citizens for Police Accountability spokesmen Jay Swenson and Ken Eidex have filed a complaint with the Town & County Inspector General's Office and the State Office of Ethics and Review, claiming that Commander Troy harassed and threatened a receptionist at BodyCore Technologies!"
Bettina continued, now frowning a bit: "Police Press Relations Officer, Captain 'Brick' Briscoe, stated that the receptionist lied to Police, a felony charge, and has been issued a summons to appear in Court. Inspector General Horace S. Wellman, whose brother is the University President and employer of Commander Troy's wife, issued a statement asserting that he has already examined the evidence and reports of the situation, and finds that the receptionist did commit a crime. The receptionist has been fired from her job, while the Inspector General says that no further investigation of Commander Troy is warranted."
"SBI Inspector Britt Maxwell, a close friend of Commander Troy and supporter of Governor Val Jared, has also refused to investigate the issue, citing Inspector General Wellman's findings. CFPA Spokesman Jay Swenson issued a counter-statement, saying, and I quote: 'It is clear that the political friends of Commander Donald Troy are circling the wagons around him, and protecting him from being held accountable for harassment of citizens.'. Mr. Swenson declined to say whether they will take further action, such as a lawsuit. Meanwhile, Commander Troy has refused to respond to repeated requests from Channel Two News for comment on this matter."
Captain Cindy Ross was beet red with anger as the Detectives and a number of Uniformed Officers listened in MCD. "Good God." she said, unable to trust herself to say more.
"I thought they outlawed lynchings decades ago." said Jerome Davis. "I guess the Media gets an exception?"
"That's exactly what that was." said Captain Teresa Croyle, a 'Teresa Cunt' look on her otherwise pretty face. "A lynching of the TCPD, Commander Troy... and the truth."
"Where
is
Commander Troy?" asked Detective Theo Washington.
"In the Chief's conference room.." said his partner, Detective Joanne Warner. "And I'm glad it's not me in there, right now." That earned Joanne a glare from the Green Crowbar...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I was at the far end of the conference table from the door, where I usually sat. The Chief was at the near end. To his left was Sheriff Allgood. To the Sheriff's left and my right was Captain Briscoe. To the Chief's right was District Attorney Gil Krasney. I had taken aspirin to quell the flare-up of pain in my back. It wasn't working.
"Chase, Lynch & Berry got to this girl pretty quickly." said Krasney. "They're representing her at no cost unless and until she wins a lawsuit. They've already contacted me with a deal that she won't sue the County in exchange for charges against her being dropped, and Commander Troy apologizes for intimidating her."
"They won't sue the County, eh? Did their offer include not suing Commander Troy, especially if he were to apologize?" asked Sheriff Allgood, seeing right through the legal firm's ruse.
"Er, they didn't say that." said Krasney, looking almost guilty, as if he himself were the one caught in the trick. "Look, guys: with the Courts full of real cases, I really don't want to waste time pursuing a Class E felony that we may not win, because she was doing what she was told."
"What I want," said Chief Moynahan, "is to get this tamped down. The Media will stop talking about it in a couple of days; they'll find something else to whine about and move on. But if we take this girl to Court, the story crops back up. And if they file a lawsuit, the story crops back up. So I am going to suggest taking that deal, but insisting that there not be a lawsuit against the Commander as well as the County." All eyes went to me.
"I will not apologize." I said clearly. "And there had better never,
ever
be an apology issued on my behalf. I will publicly humiliate anyone who attempts to do so."
"Commander," said the Chief, staring me down, putting on his most authoritative Cavalry Officer's voice, "even if you think you did no wrong, you need to think about what's in the best interest of this Police Force."
"With all due respect, Chief," I replied, my eyes boring right back into his, "I
am
acting in the best interest of the Force. Even if I wanted to, if I were to offer an apology, or one was offered on my behalf, they'll use that against us. They
will
file the lawsuit, and say the apology is an admission of guilt. And they would win. No sir, I will not apologize. It's up to the D.A. to decide to pursue or not pursue the charges, and to deal with Chase, Lynch & Berry as he sees fit, provided he does not try to issue a policy on my behalf."
"I have to agree with Commander Troy on this one." said Sheriff Daniel Allgood. "An apology
would
be construed as guilt. And I just spent a weekend coaxing the Inspector General to act quickly on the complaint. An apology would just shred all that and stab the Inspector General in the back."
"So how do we get the Media off our backs?" asked Chief Moynahan. I did not understand why this man was suddenly so worried about the Media.
"We need to issue some kind of statement, Chief." said Captain Briscoe. "The Media were not the only ones that could not get in touch with Commander Troy this weekend; neither could I. Where
were
you, Commander?"
I was incensed at being asked that so disrespectfully by a subordinate, and said "I was out of Town,
Captain
, on personal business. I informed my boss, the Chief, that I would be out of the jurisdiction, and I had no obligation to inform any
subordinate
Officer of my actions. I have nothing more to say about it." I don't know if it was the fire behind my eyes or my crowbar tapping in my hand, but Captain Briscoe said nothing more.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
But I do have an obligation to tell my readers where I was. After my meeting with Todd on Saturday, I went to City Airport and caught a flight to Boston, Massachusetts. Renting a Ford Mustang GT with a fast, powerful motor, I drove north, into New Hampshire.
It was evening as I arrived at my destination, a large mansion in the foothills of the White Mountains. I gave my name at the gate, and somewhat to my surprise I was admitted. Driving to the front of the house, I could see in the dimming light that the lawn and bushes were beautifully manicured. The garages were to one side, and in a shocking contrast to the peaceful serenity of the rest of the scene, an ambulance was parked there.
A butler, a tall slender man of my own height, but far more advanced in age, admitted me into the hallway, then led me through a couple of halls to a large room in the back left corner of the house. As I entered, I saw to my left a wall that was a huge lattice of windows, not unlike the Cabin's back wall, with a view of Mt. Washington in the far distance. On the back wall were five large paintings of several men, the leftmost being a man in the uniform of a Confederate General, the others becoming progressively more modern. On a long shelf below the paintings were several porcelain urns, that held the ashes of most of these ancestors.
It was easy to see the others were descended from that General, and they were all antecedents of the man who had risen from his chair behind his desk.
"Ah, Commander Troy," said Wallace Bedford, "I must admit that I am surprised and humbled that you have visited me here in my home." He did not sound very humbled.
"I apologize for the intrusion, Mr. Bedford," I replied, "and I will take up as little of your immensely valuable time as possible. I need to speak with a James Rutledge, formerly of my Town & County, whose last known address was here. Or perhaps his wife can speak with me."
"May I ask what it is about?" said Bedford, his polite formality and friendliness belying his deep hatred of my mission to talk to Rutledge.
"I want to ask him a few questions regarding the death of his son ten years ago." I said. "We are reviewing that case, and some new information has come up that might be of value to him as well as to us in solving his son's murder."
"Ah, that makes sense, in many ways." Bedford said cryptically. "Unfortunately, Commander, Mrs. Rutledge left her husband years ago, and I have no idea where she is. As to Mr. Rutledge, it is unfortunate that you traveled such a long way for nothing, but I am afraid that I will be unable to make him available to you."
I knew exactly what that meant: Bedford was going to openly stymie my attempts to find or talk to Rutledge. "That is too bad, Mr. Bedford, as my mission was about family. I can see that you value family very much." I glanced towards the paintings.
"Yes, I do." said Bedford, looking fondly at the portraits of his ancestors. "I'm sure you recognize the great man at left, the Confederate General. He was a founding member of the Ku Klux Klan, as well. It's an honor to be a descendant of that great man, and I feel deeply the responsibility of upholding his legacy."
"I see." I said. "You have a son, do you not?" I knew he did.
A flicker of pain crossed Bedford's features as he said "Yes. And I'm sure you know how gravely ill he is."
"Sick enough to have needed a transplant nearly a year and a half ago." I replied. "A liver... that disappeared from City Hospital instead of going to its rightful recipient."
"One which wasn't adequate, and had to be thrown out." said Bedford. "Fortunately, another arrived at the same time, from Florida, and has given my son time until a cure is hopefully found."
"So the one from City Hospital," I said, my mind reeling with shock, "it was just thrown away, unused?"
"Commander, you have children." said Bedford. "Wouldn't you do anything for them?"
"I wouldn't steal the only chance a little girl had to live to save them." I said. "Especially since there was another way for your son."
"That's the problem with you, Commander. You just don't understand the place of the 'little people'." said Bedford. "You could have been one of us, one of the Elites in this world. You have no idea what you truly gave up when you refused to join the CIA out of college. We would have groomed you for true greatness. And you would've learned that people like that little girl are worthless, totally worthless compared to what we are doing for the greater good of all!"
"I think I'm all the more glad I refused." I replied, trying hard to control the indignation welling up inside me. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Bedford. I'll show myself out."
"I'm sure you didn't come in here now without having some kind of backup plan, and I was caught unawares and unprepared to stop you." said Bedford. "Therefore, you may go in peace. But do not come back again without invitation, unless you want your children to grow up without a father."
I just looked back at Wallace Bedford and said "
Au revoir
, Mr. Bedford.
Au revoir.
