The Eightfold Fence

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 series, Case of the Paper Trail series, Christmas Mystery Theater, The Porno Set Mystery series, The Medical Murder Mystery series.

The Eightfold Fence, Ch. 01-02.

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 4 - Dr. Bonnie Karpathian

"I can hardly believe Dr. Bonnie Karpathian is on this list, either." said Cindy Ross.

"Why is that, dear?" asked Phyllis.

"She's a well-respected Ph.D in Psychology." said Cindy. "She has assisted numerous police agencies in stalking and serial killing cases. She may have been in the room the night Don set the trap for the Corrigan Cell, but that doesn't mean she's our Big Boy. She's bright, vivacious, and her personality brings attention to her... hardly the persona our Big Boy seems to be... he seems to want to hide in the shadows and let others do his dirty work while he thinks about things."

"Yes, you're right about that." Phyllis said. "But it does take a special mindset to do what she does. That goes for my daughter-in-law also, and don't tell her I said that. What I'm trying to say is that Bonnie Karpathian studies killers... serial killers. And one wonders what is going on inside the head of someone who studies serial killers."

"Maybe..." said Cindy, lost in thought herself...

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

Saturday, January 10th. At around 9:00am, I had just finished feeding my baby son Jim when there was a knock on the door. Laura answered it and found Jack Muscone on my doorstep, and she let him in. Jack had stayed in Town after the party the night before.

"Hi Don," he said, "sorry to interrupt your family life, but we just got a call about a murder up in the Lake Amengi-Nunagen area. My boss has authorized you consulting time if you'll come with me. And before you say 'no', there's another reason I want you to come: the murder took place not far from where Michael Burke lives, and your nephew Todd is up there visiting him. They're somehow implicated in this as witnesses, but I have no details."

I sighed. "Well, Laura, I guess I better go get that boy out of trouble." I said, half-jokingly, but Laura knew full well that it could be serious.

"Laura," Jack said, turning to her, "would you mind giving me the number for Dr. Karpathian, so I can ask if she can come with us?"

"I'll call her myself." said Laura. I noticed that my wife went into the other room to make that call while Jack ooh'd and ahh'd over little Jim. Fortunately, Carole and the Burke babies we were keeping were keeping peaceably quiet. A few minutes later Laura came back, and told us to pick up Bonnie Karpathian at the University Psychology Building in ten minutes. As we left, Laura seemed a bit introspective, and had a touch of worry on her lovely face, but she said it was nothing when I asked if everything was okay. She practically shooed me and Jack Muscone out the door. I had no way of knowing the recent conversation with Bonnie that Laura was thinking about.

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

"Hi Laura!" said Bonnie Karpathian a few days before, practically bouncing into Laura's office."

"Hi Bonnie." Laura said. "I've got class to teach in ten minutes, so I'll get straight to the point: what did you want to talk to me about?" Bonnie had asked to speak to Laura the day before.

"I'll be quick, then." Bonnie replied, glad that Laura was rushed so that she might give approval without thinking to Bonnie's request. "I've been doing the research and I'm starting a new book. I published one two years ago about three cases, and this one is going to be primarily about Angela Harlan."

Oops, that got a look of 'WTF!' from Laura, whose eyes had widened at the name. "Okay, so why are you in here asking me about it?" Laura inquired skeptically.

"I want your advice on how to approach your husband and other police officers here about it." Bonnie said. "It was about a year ago now, but it still might be sensitive for them."

"I daresay." said Laura, who then caught herself. "Oh, sorry, I should apologize if that sounded acerbic. The truth is, Bonnie, that Officer Pete Feeley was murdered early last February... on the 3d, if I'm not mistaken..." Laura knew full well what the date was... "I'd suggest you wait until well after that before talking to Don, and especially to Lt. Tanya Perlman, who had Pete's child just a few months ago. That is probably the one area that you don't want to bring up with my husband in the next few weeks."

"I'm glad I asked you, then." said Bonnie. "I'll hold off, or maybe spend a weekend or two in Texas talking to people who knew her there."

"Sure." Laura said. "Do you have a grant for this?"

"Right now I'm using money from the grant from the FBI on the LaSalle serial killings in New Orleans a couple of years ago." Bonnie replied. "I've put in for a grant to the DOJ for the Harlan cases, since it's about a law enforcement officer gone horribly bad."

Laura asked for the details, said she'd help Bonnie get the grant, then excused herself to her class. "Come to me before you talk to Don or any of the local police on this one. Wounds are still fresh and nerves are raw over it."

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

"So, Bonnie," said Jack Muscone as he drove north-by-northwest towards Lake Amengi-Nunagen, the elevations climbing gradually but steadily as we went, "you've been studying the Harlan case? Anything new?" I was riding shotgun, enjoying being able to watch out the window without having the duties of driving. Bonnie was in the backseat, wearing a pantsuit and sensible shoes. I could smell her perfume, and it smelled good. But these were words I did not really want to hear.

"No, I'm not going to go there for another few months." Bonnie said. "I've been researching other cases for background before I start on that one."

"I for one appreciate that." I said rather quietly. Bonnie nodded, and while Jack's facial expression did not change, I think he may have realized he'd stepped in the proverbial dog poop on that one.

"So what do you have on this case we're going to see?" asked Bonnie, to change the subject.

"Nothing, really." Muscone said. "Dead girl, prostitute from the City. A woman in the car with Don's nephew and family recognized the girl's car, then identified the body. The murder occurred on Federal lands, so my boss called me in when he heard that Michael Burke was involved.

"Not to mention my nephew Todd, of course." I said.

"That's where he wanted you to come consult with us." said Jack. "Anyway, I'm missing my double cheeseburger for lunch, but maybe you'll get this solved before dinnertime." I smiled briefly. The mention of Angela Harlan had weighed down my soul, and I was still a bit morose. Jack and Bonnie talked about serial killers and their patterns, and I made sure to listen and learn as much as I could from that.

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

It was overcast and not too cold yet, but that would change as the front came in, I realized. I had on my trenchcoat over civilian clothes as well as my Tilley hat and... of course... the red crowbar. I was also armed with my service weapon, as I had a Federal Firearms Permit to do so.

"Hi, Commander Troy!" Todd said brightly as we entered the Forestry Service offices not far from the murder scene. The passengers of Michael Burke's SUV had been 'invited' to stay there until we arrived. I saw relief on Jeanine's beautiful face at the sight of me, something akin to dislike on Michael Burke's features, and a look of wonderment from a very tall blonde woman in her mid- to upper-thirties.

I was introduced to Cherie as a couple of FBI agents came up to brief Jack Muscone, who called me over to hear it.

"The woman's name is Nicole Stanton, and she went by the name 'Dawn Starrett'." said one agent. "She was identified by the blonde woman in the other room, there, who said they were both from the City and had come up together upon Michael Burke's... 'invitation'." I did not fail to notice the sarcasm in the agent's voice.

"Miss Stanton's identity was confirmed by her fingerprints, also." continued the agent. "She's 28 years old, and was a very high class call girl in the City. Cherie Ward, the blonde woman with Michael Burke's group there, is also a very high class escort. It might interest you to know, Agent Muscone, that Henry Wargrave is suspected of hiring these girls and others of their class for his most special guests, for... entertainment... but also to obtain secrets for him."

"Let me ask this." I said. "Did Cherie Ward tell you all that?"

"No, she's as nervous as a pig at a bacon factory right now." said the other agent. "She only told us that she knew the girl, they'd been hired to come up to Burke's cabin, they came in separate cars, and Nicole left that evening while Cherie stayed overnight. She wouldn't talk about anything else. Then the young man, Burke's son from what I understand, confirmed that Miss Stanton had left right after dinner, while Miss Ward stayed the night. The black haired woman is a lawyer, by the way, and she says she's the younger man's wife."

"She is." I said. "I happen to know them personally. So, anything else before we go to the crime scene?"

"Yes, we better get on out there so they can take the body away." Jack Muscone said.

"And let's have Todd Burke come with us, please." I said.

"Uh, that's not normal." said the agent.

"It's all right." said Muscone. "You're going to find that the Iron Crowbar here is not a normal man, either."

"This is the Iron Crowbar from the University Town?" said one of the agents, his eyes widening. I held my face to neutral, but inside was very pleased that my reputation was growing.

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

The woman had been very beautiful in life, but now her body was lying on it's back, mud streaked all over her, and her throat slit open. Other stab wounds covered her body. Her fingernails were scratched and had already been scraped for possible DNA evidence.

"Sexual assault?" I asked as I looked around the body, kneeling down next to it. Bonnie Karpathian was kneeling on the other side.

"Coroner doesn't think so." said an agent. "He did a full rape kit, but doesn't expect much. He also says it's hard to tell with working girls sometimes, so he'll have to do more work at the autopsy."

"So the car was found there, where it is now?" I asked. The Forestry Service agent who'd first found the body said it was. I had him tell me everything he'd seen at the time. The woman had been lying on her back, eyes staring sightlessly upward. She was cold and rigid when he checked for a pulse. There had been no knife or gun anywhere. The woman's purse was in the car, her ID and apparently everything else intact.

"No gun in her purse, even though she has a carry permit?" I asked as I looked through the car, seeing that it had already been thoroughly searched. I then said more loudly "Anyone find a gun in her purse or in the car?" No one had, nor had anyone taken a note of finding any such thing.

"What about car keys?" I asked a moment later. One of the FBI agents said that no car keys had been found in the car, nor anywhere around the body nor the crime scene.

"Interesting. Okay, so the car came down this road, then pulled off to the side here." I said, walking away from the group. "Todd, walk with me." Todd eagerly did so.

Once we were about 100 feet away, as I looked on the ground for clues, I asked Todd "Okay, so what can you tell me that you haven't told them?"

"We're telling them that Cherie slept with my dad while Jeanine and I slept together." Todd said. "But in reality we'd swapped and I had Cherie while Jeanine was with my dad. We also didn't tell them that Cherie and I knew each other several years ago, when I was working clubs while in school."

"To your knowledge, is she more than a prostitute?" I asked. Todd knew better than to question where I was going with that inquiry. He knew that I knew far more than I let on.

"No sir." my nephew said. "Not as far as I ever knew. We'd have breakfast after working in our respective clubs, go home and fuck. Not much else there, and of course over time I didn't have much contact with her anymore."

We were making our way back to the group. "One more question, Todd." I said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Was the deceased woman angry when she left your dad's house?"

"Didn't seem to be." Todd replied.

"You know," the Forestry Service agent said, who Todd had said was the one that stopped their car when they came down the road, "you two look a lot alike, except for the hair color."

"I'll take that as a compliment." I said, not revealing that Todd was my sister's son, and impressed at the man's visual acuity. Todd was grinning mischievously as I asked the Forestry Service agent "Tell me what

you

saw at this crime scene."

"I got here after the first call was made." he said. "Ambulance was already here, and they said the woman was dead already. I heard one EMT say she was 'already in rigor', which I guess means she'd been dead awhile."

"Coroner thinks the time of death was about 9:00pm last evening," said one FBI agent, "about an hour after she left Mr. Burke's cabin. But he's not holding hard to that, as the cold may have thrown off the natural rigor process." I nodded, taking in one more full sweep of the crime scenes, and also of everyone who was there that had attended the scene.

"Okay, Jack, I'm done here." I said. "By the way, who is doing the autopsy?"

"We're bringing in a coroner from the City." said one agent. I winced and he asked "What's wrong with that?"

"Only that if you'd brought someone in from somewhere else, no one in the City would know about this yet." I said. "But when that guy comes up here from your office, someone will know and the news will be all over the criminal underworld of the City. So we have lost the element of surprise."

"But Agent Muscone came from there." said the agent, seemingly offended. "So they'll know anyway."

"No I didn't, I came from somewhere else... and Don is right." said Muscone, then brought the agent back to the lure: "It's not a big deal, but something we'll think about for the future. Don, anything you can tell us?"

"Naw, this ground has been trampled on like a horse stampede at a rodeo." I said. "I do think your forensics guys did a good job on the body and the car, so if there's anything to be gotten from the physical evidence, we'll get it. I do wonder how the woman was waylaid and brought here... she should've turned the other way onto this road after leaving the Burke's cabin."

"Yeah, the agents were talking about that." Jack said.

"Oh..." I said, as if it had just come to me. "There are two things we should be looking for. A gun or other weapon that the woman owned, and the keys to this car. In the meantime... there's something I'm missing here. The picture is not complete for me yet."

"All the same, any speculation?" asked Jack. He knew I hated to speculate, but he was almost desperate for ideas. So I threw him a couple of lines.

"Perp might have been in the car when she got into it." I said. "Soon as she pulls out, he makes her turn left instead of right, then pull over to the side of the road whereupon he butchers her." I did not mention the obvious: that Todd had sent the woman out at that hour, and he or anyone else in the house could've taken a gun from the woman's purse. She was a prostitute; I strongly suspected she had been armed.

"Very possible." Jack said. "Or she heads back to the town, someone waves her down, then either asks or makes her go back along this way. "Bonnie, anything you can tell us?"

"No sir." said Bonnie. "I'll research and see if there have been any other killings up here and if there are any similar patterns. But serial killers tend to leave some sort of sign of their work; they

want

us to know it's them. This looks to be pretty simple, clean, and by someone who does not care to be identified... and had no problem with his victim being quickly identified."

"Good points. Okay, you guys can clean this up." called out Jack Muscone. "Take the body all the way to the City for the autopsy. Impound the car, transport it to the City also..."

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

Back at the Forestry Service building, I said "Have the Burkes and/or Cherie Ward been read their rights?"

"Not yet, they're just being treated as witnesses, so far." said one agent. "But we may arrest the blonde woman if she isn't more forthcoming with us. She didn't want to talk to us at all, then the other woman, the lawyer, intervened on her behalf."

I then asked to speak to Cherie alone. That got a bunch of protests from FBI agents. Jeanine had told Cherie to trust me, so that wasn't the issue, but other agents weren't having any of it.

"What are you going to ask her?" one agent thundered. Another said "I want to be there to hear anything she says. She's not answering our questions, and I think we ought to arrest her."

"Guys, this is my case now." said Muscone, cutting off debate. "Don, you'll need to tell us what she tells you, but go ahead." That got an even more vociferous argument from the agents, some of who were being openly insubordinate as they bitterly said that Jack was out of order and they'd be taking it to a higher level. I'm not sure they realized just how high a level Jack (and myself, if need be) could take it.

Then one agent said to go ahead and let me, and I could see the crafty smile on his face. Knowing what was up his sleeve, I knew I was prepared.

Alone in the room with Cherie, I studied her. She was tall, nearly six feet, very beautiful with a mane of blonde hair, a toned, fit body with large breasts that had needed only some artificial enhancement, and smoking hot legs. Her face looked somewhat familiar to me; I'm sure I'd seen her more than once. She looked like a scared rabbit, though.

I turned on my device that would neutralize any bugs that were listening in, wishing I could see Mr. Crafty Agent's face when he got nothing from the bugs. "Cherie, I'm Commander Troy, consulting with the FBI on the death of your friend. I'm also related to your friend Todd, so I want you to trust me so I can protect you. You're more than just a call girl, aren't you?"

"Not really." she said, but her eyes welled up with more fear.

"Just between us and nobody else, you're a confidential informant for someone in the City, aren't you?" I asked. Cherie said nothing, but looked scared to death.

"And for... Captain Susan Wexler, if I don't miss my guess." I said. Cherie's eyes told me that I was right, even though she said nothing. But then I realized that there was something else. And then I realized where I knew her from. The night of Senator Nathan Allen's oh-so-unfortunate heart attack and death. I decided not to pursue this any further.