The chronological order of my stories is as follows:
Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, The Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series, Teresa's Summer Race, The Trilogy series, Dark Side Of The Force series, Caught In The Act series, Case of the Murdered Bride series, The Credit Card Caper series, The Hot Wives Investment Club series.
Seriously Inconvenienced, Ch. 1-2.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, extreme 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 or racist 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 6 - Jailbreak
At 10:00am Saturday morning, November 15th, I was reading the early edition of the
Town & County Examiner
, the local newspaper. The headline is large letters said "SBI-TCPD FEUD HEATS UP!".
There were three items of interest. First, the Governor had publicly come out in support of the Town & County Police, saying the SBI was wrong in going into the County without giving notice. Furthermore, the Governor had suspended the
entire
Narcotics Task Force until the SBI's Internal Conduct and Review Board could conduct an investigation into the matter. Chief Griswold had not been fully correct: Inspector Brittany M. Maxwell had
not
recused herself, and was personally leading the investigation.
Second, Sheriff-Elect Daniel Allgood had issued a statement supporting the TCPD, saying their actions had been correct and even restrained in light of coming under the criminally unlawful gunfire of the SBI. Of course, and by way of contrast, State-Senator-Elect Katherine Woodburn condemned the TCPD in the strongest terms, and especially called for an investigation of Police Commander Donald Troy as the instigator of the Police's interference with the SBI's work.
At least the newspaper had taken malicious delight in calling out their former owner Woodburn for being incorrect about the jurisdiction: she said the SBI had jurisdiction, but everyone else and their mothers knew that they didn't, and it was soon to come out that the SBI had not even obtained a legal warrant for the raid, while the TCPD had ADA Jenna Stiles's rock-solid, ironclad warrants authorizing their actions. The paper pointed these things out in explicit and copious detail.
For the first two items of interest, I noted that the Elections being over was causing some people to come out and say and do things they would not ordinarily do. The Governor was openly reining in the SBI, politicians were speaking out more directly now (especially Katherine Woodburn), and the battle over the SBI in the Legislature was heating up even more with this botched drug raid added to the inflammatory, volatile mixture.
The third item of interest was what was
not
discussed: the robbery of the Second National Bank. It was as if it didn't happen; the Media had lost all interest in it. Not even a perfunctory report of Luisa Gomez's progress in the hospital.
Then the phone rang...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Hi Don, thanks for coming over." FBI Special Agent in Charge Jack Muscone said as I entered his makeshift office in the FBI offices off Courthouse Square. "I thought it might be better for you to come here rather than for me to cause a sensation by going to your Headquarters."
"I think you're getting mighty comfortable in these offices here in Town, instead of your normal City location." I said, needling Jack. "Or is it really
just
the double-cheeseburgers at the Cop Bar?"
"Stop that. You're making me hungry." said Jack. "By the way, congratulations on your new son. We're all happy for you and Molly."
"Thanks." I said. I took a cigar out of my pocket and presented it to Muscone. "So, what brings me here?"
"Just a commendation for whipping Dick Ferrell's ass even better than I did that time at the Fairgrounds." Muscone said, unable to hide his enjoyment of that.
"Funny thing, I thought of you and that incident as I beat him down." I said. "I had to make sure to keep up the high standard you set."
"I just wish I could have been there to help." Muscone said. "I really, really hate that bastard; he's fucked up so many things in this State, it's a wonder he's not dead already, and by that I mean at the hands of Law Enforcement at any given level."
"If he comes into this County again like he did the last two times," I said, "I doubt I will restrain myself any further. So, what did you really want to talk to me about?"
"Some serious stuff." said Muscone, his countenance turning to match the importance of what I was about to hear. "First, Remember that white supremacist Tommy Gunn from your Black Badge gang? I found out this morning that he has been broken out of prison."
"Hmm, should I tell our morgue to expect a new guest?" I asked, somewhat flippantly I admit.
"Maybe not." said Muscone. "As you know, we have FBI teams like mine all over the country. Our team in Atlanta has been working on the 'Superior Bloodlines' group for a while. They think the group is headquartered somewhere in Tennessee, which is in their, the Atlanta FBI Team's, region.
Muscone continued: "They also think that the Superior Bloodlines team and the Black Badge gang you broke up are not cut entirely from the same cloth. Tommy Gunn might have been working with the Black Badge gang here, but was also part of the Bloodlines group, and they, meaning the Bloodlines group, might not want to kill him but have him continue to work with them."
"That's interesting." I said. "And Harold Malone moseyed down to Alabama after getting exposed here. I always thought that Gunn was Malone's 'boy'. Any chance of a connection there?"
"Our Atlanta team is working on that, too." Muscone replied. "I've had them keeping an eye on Malone since he went down there. So far, nothing out of Malone at all, except that his wife got Auburn football season tickets by pulling some strings that should not be legally pulled."
"Don't ask me to investigate that." I said. "I've got enough problems being a Wildcat in this Town. Investigating SEC football is not my idea of fun." Muscone laughed.
"No, and that would be a waste of FBI resources, as more powerful forces are at work there." Malone said, the merest hint of sarcasm in his voice. "But I'm waiting for your next question."
I thought a moment, then it hit me. "Oh, Jack King and the Black Badge gang. Something about them?"
"Yep." Jack Muscone said. "After we learned of Gunn's disappearance, some FBI agents up near the Federal Supermax prison where King was incarcerated went up to see him-"
"
Was
incarcerated?" I asked, catching on to Jack's slip immediately.
"Not much gets by you." Jack said drily. "Here's what went down: our guys went up there, and when the prison guards brought the prisoner into the interrogation room, our agents could see immediately that it was not Jack King. Guy didn't even look all that much like King, just enough plastic surgery to bear a resemblance. Fooled the guards at the prison who weren't paying attention, though."
"Hoo boy." I said. "They may have been well paid to not notice. But I'm not surprised. Conrad King wasn't going to let his son rot in Supermax for too long. I suspect Jack King is no longer within the friendly confines of the United States of America."
"Probably not. Nor Canada." Muscone said. "We think he may have slipped out to France on a fake passport. Meanwhile, the guy still in the cell didn't have a thing to say. Said his name was John Doe and he was from this here Town that we're sitting in right now. I'm not supposed to mention this, but Homeland Security did some extracurricular interrogation on him, but he did not break. Whatever brainwashing he got, it's sticking pretty good."
"Any idea what the guy looked like before being made up to look like King?" I asked as certain ideas formed in my mind.
"Ah, now
that
is the Iron Crowbar thinking pattern that I've been expecting to hear." Jack said, giving what was for him was a grin. "We had a doctor do some x-rays and thermal imaging. Here's a computer makeup of what we think he looked like before."
I took the image that Muscone handed to me across the desk. I found myself looking into the face of a man that looked very much like 'Gruff', one of my assailants on the day that the Reverend Jonas Oldeeds was obliterated. And of course that meant that the man bore a striking resemblance to one Dr. P. Harvey Eckhart, founder and leader of 'The Vision'.
"He looks like Gruff, but he's not him." I said. "I can tell a couple of slight differences here and there. It's not Eckhart either, obviously."
"So Don," Jack said, "tell me why we have at least two P. Harvey Eckharts, not to mention the original, showing up around these here parts." I could tell that Jack was putting the question to me not only to gather information, but to test my loyalties. And I knew how to pass the test both ways.
I said "I know that Eckhart had several guys made up to look like him some years ago, when Eckhart feared being assassinated. I think he was having some trouble with you guys in the FBI, as well. My guess would be that Gruff and this guy are two of those people."
"So do you think Eckhart's involved in the prison escapes?" Jack asked, trying to hide that he was peering hard at me, and failing.
"Doesn't sound like the type of stuff Eckhart likes to get into, but who knows?" I said, truly unsure.
"What
does
Eckhart like to get into?" Jack asked. Now I knew for sure I was being played.
"Eckhart's into a much softer game, and for money." I said, not telling the full truth, but not lying either. "As far as I can tell, Eckhart doesn't get into criminal enterprises or activities. He runs his worldwide self-help cult, which is a pretty formidable operation in its own right, and leaves the crimes to other folks, like our billionaire buddy, Henry R. Wargrave." I threw in Wargrave's name to take this conversation away from P. Harvey Eckhart.
"Yeah, Wargrave." Jack Muscone said. "You think he's behind the crap going on in your County these past few days and weeks?"
"To some degree, yes." I said. "But I'm not sure why. By the way, do you know where he is?"
"He's in the City." said Muscone. "We've been keeping tabs on him, especially since the night you waxed Corrigan and his cell. But he's slick. At least four times we think we knew where he was, only to see him on TV in New York City or Los Angeles giving a speech or something. My boss is a patient man, but Wargrave is embarrassing us. I did go see him, though."