The Murdered Football Player

The order of my stories to read is:

Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, Case of the Executed Evangelist series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10.

The Murdered Football Player, Ch. 01

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, nor cults, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 6 - The Insurmountable Wall

At 6:00am the next morning, Sunday, I walked into the MCD room. Martin Nash had beaten me in, which pleased me greatly. As I poured a cup of coffee, I asked him if anything had developed overnight.

"Toxicology and the preliminary autopsy report." he said, handing me the file folder. "Tanya is over there driving them like racehorses, and she's still there; she didn't go home last night."

"Good." I said as I read the report. "She knows how urgent this is." There was some alcohol in the blood and in the victim's stomach, but hardly enough to even give the kid a buzz, much less kill him. There were no illegal drugs like marijuana, cocaine or ecstasy in his system.

The report also named a prescription drug in the boy's system, which was used to regulate irregular heartbeats. There were also traces of another drug, possibly a residue of a performance-enhancing drug, which was being analyzed further. The level of these drugs were pretty high, as if he had just taken them.

The preliminary autopsy had ruled out any violence or trauma, and there had been no internal bleeding. It appeared that the young man's heart had stopped, perhaps the result of a heart attack, though the effect of the drugs on the heart had not been ruled out.

"Lieutenant, can I ask a question?" Martin said, and I knew what it would be.

"You want to know what the urgency is about?" I replied. I looked around as he nodded, then said "Just between you, me, and these here desktops: this is going to become a very political case because the victim is on the University football team. So we have to get our shit together and get as much data as we possibly can as soon as we can, because when the Chief's phone starts ringing off the hook, it's going to get deep and muddy around here."

Just then Diana Torres, Hugh Hewitt, and Angela Harlan came in. Cindy Ross strode in five minutes later, looking unhappy.

"Why the long face, my friend?" I asked Cindy.

"I realized it last night." she said sulkily. "What's going to happen this morning." I knew exactly what she meant and I just nodded to her.

"What's going to happen?" Angela asked.

"We'll burn that bridge when we get to it." I said. "Meantime Angela, I have to tell you that because your cousin is the football coach at the university, and because our dead man was on the football team, we have to be careful about what you do on this case. My temptation is to keep you off the case, but that is hardly fair to you and there might be ways you can be helpful. But we'll see how things go this morning."

"Yes sir." Angela said. "But I'm a professional; you can trust me no matter who my relatives are."

"I do trust you, we all do." I said. "It's more about appearances than anything else, especially with a rabidly anti-School, anti-Football, and anti-Police Media around here."

"I understand, sir." Angela said.

"I just hope Captain Malone brings in the parents early enough for you to interview them." Cindy said. The others looked quizzically at us.

"Cindy, pour yourself a cup of coffee and don't worry about it until it happens." I said. "And someone turn on the TV; it's almost seven o'clock."

"I'm on it." said Tanya Perlman as she entered the room and headed to the TV. She looked exhausted.

"Cindy, a cup o' joe for our Crime Lab Supervisor. She's done yeoman's work staying up all night to get these reports in." I said. Cindy brought two mugs over, giving one to Tanya as we settled in for our daily dose of Bettina!

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News! Channel Two News has learned that the body of a young University student yesterday morning is that of varsity football player Jefferson Davis Jackson. Jackson was a redshirt Sophomore and slated to be the starting tight end for the University football team in this upcoming season. The University and Athletic Department have released statements of condolences, but no official of the University nor member of the coaching staff would agree to an on-camera interview with Channel Two News as they await the results of an autopsy.

The lovely redhead reporter continued, her face almost a smile as she released the sad details of Jackson's death. "Meanwhile, the Police Department has also not released any new information on the passing of Jeff Jackson after confirming his identity. The Police Department has declined to say whether or not foul play might be involved in the young athlete's untimely death.

"Meanwhile, the office of State Senator Nathan Allen has issued a statement saying that the Town & County Police are incapable of handling this task, and he is demanding that the State Bureau of Investigation take the lead in solving the case."

"Bit early to be saying that, isn't he?" Martin Nash said indignantly. I put my fingers over my mouth in a "hush" sign; I wanted to hear more of Bettina.

The redhead reporterette continued: "In other news, citizens of Coltrane County are mourning the death of their beloved Sheriff --" Bettina said, naming the dirty asshole who was anything but beloved. "His death is being ruled a heart attack by the Coltrane County Medical Examiner's office, despite information from sources to Channel Two News that the Sheriff may have been injected with a drug that stopped his heart.

"The Coltrane County Sheriff's Department also denied that there was a confrontation with Town & County Police at the border of the counties at the time the body of Jeff Jackson was found, saying that they were then and are now prepared to assist the SBI in any investigation within or pertaining to Coltrane County. This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News; as always, we will break in with any new developments as we learn them."

"They'll work with the SBI but not us." Martin Nash said. He was beginning to understand how the politics worked and how Bettina nuanced her words.

"Yep." I said. "The Media is helping this State Senator and the SBI lay the groundwork for-- " I didn't get a chance to finish. Captain Harold Malone had entered the MCD room, a rare occurrence.

"The parents are here." Malone said. "They're waiting in the front lobby."

"Martin, you're with me." I said. We followed Captain Malone into the lobby, where a couple in their early 50s awaited us. The woman had been crying and was red-eyed. She had reddish-blonde hair, dyed, was of medium build, decent figure. The man looked fairly distinguished, letting some gray hair mix with his darker brown-black hair. He was tall, about 5'10", and had been an athlete in the past though his body was beginning to show the signs of age.

"This is Doug and Roberta Jackson." Captain Malone said, then introduced me and Detective Nash. "I've asked Don here to speak with you."

"Do you know what happened to our son?" Roberta Jackson said, her voice nearly breaking.

"Why don't we go in here?" I said, leading the way to Interrogation-A from the lobby side. I asked the Jacksons to be seated and Nash and I took seats on the "police side" of the table. Captain Malone sat by Mrs. Jackson.

"First of all, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, I want to say how sorry I am for your loss." I said. "I know this is a shocking and terrible time for you, and I'm also sorry that in order to find out what happened to your son, we're going to have to ask some questions that might be painful."

"We understand." said Mr. Jackson. "How can we help?"

"First of all, did Jeff have any medical problems?"

"Yes, he did." said Mr. Jackson. "When he was about 13 and tried out for Junior High football, the doctors thought he might have a valve issue with his heart. We did a bunch of tests and they monitored him, and there seemed to be no real issue. They also said he'd grow out of it, and he did. We continued having him checked regularly, but he played football in junior high and high school with no problems.

Mr. Jackson continued: "Then when he was offered the football scholarship to the University, they ran more tests. Jeff didn't have the valve problem anymore, but he did have occurrences of a slightly irregular heartbeat, which led to blood pressure swings. In addition, the doctors thought he might have early signs of Type II diabetes, but they thought his athletic regimen and diet would keep that under control. He's been taking medicine to keep his heartbeat and blood pressure stable, and he's had no problems." He named the medications Jeff had been taking, and Martin and I both wrote them down.

"Thank you, sir." I said. "Did Jeff do a lot of partying? Did he stay out very late at night?"

"Sure, he did his fair share," said Mr. Jackson, "but he never stayed out really late, and he never drove drunk or anything."

"Do either of you know of anyone that might want to hurt Jeff in any way?" I asked. The question was routine, but I noticed the parents glance at each other.

"Anything? If you know something, I really need to know about it." I said, trying to sound smooth and friendly but commanding at the same time.

"Well, let me say it this way." Mr. Jackson said. "He didn't have any real enemies that we knew of, but... last year around Christmas we heard from some friends whose son also was in school here that Jeff started dating this girl, and her ex-boyfriend was ticked off about it. I didn't get all the details, but there might have been some confrontation over it."

"Do you know the girl's name or the ex-boyfriend's?" I asked. Both parents shook their heads no.

"Who was the friend and the friend's son, from whom you learned this?" I asked.

Mr. Jackson gave me the names, but then said "Our friend's son is no longer here at school, and the whole family moved away to California this past Spring. They never gave us a way to contact them and we've fallen completely out of touch with them." He gave me the last phone number he had, which was in his cell phone.

"Thank you, Mr. Jackson." I said. "I just have one more line of questioning, and please don't misunderstand where I'm going with it: your son's full name was Jefferson Davis Jackson. Was he named after the president of the Confederacy?"

Mr. Jackson hesitated and then said "Yes sir, he was."

"The reason I ask is that of course there are black athletes on his team, and if they knew his full name they might not like it. Do you know if Jeff ever had any problems over that, if anyone ever gave him a hard time about his name?"

"I never heard of any problem." said Mr. Jackson, "And I don't think Jeff ever really advertised his full name, though certainly he nor we were ever ashamed about it."

"Certainly, sir," I said, "but I have to ask just in case it might have been an issue and caused someone to want to cause him trouble."

"I understand," said Mr. Jackson, "but again, Jeff never said anything about any trouble with ni- *ahem* er, with other players."

"Thank you both." I said. "Detective Nash is the lead investigator into your son's death. Detective Nash, do you have any questions?"

"Just one, and let me also say how sorry I am for your loss." Nash said. "Did Jeff have a serious girlfriend, or did he date a lot?" Excellent, I thought to myself: Nash had picked up on that.

His mother spoke up for the first time: "Jeff was very popular with girls. He never had one single girlfriend while in high school, but several girls were always coming over to see him or go to parties with him. If he had a serious girlfriend in college, he never said anything to me." Mr. Jackson also shook his head.

"Thank you ma'am." Nash said.

"Lieutenant, I asked earlier if you have any idea what happened to my son." Mrs. Jackson said, her eyes boring into me. "Do you?"

"Not yet, ma'am." I said. "There was no violence to his body and no illegal drugs in his system. He may have just had a heart attack, but we can't totally rule out foul play at this time."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Captain Malone said, endeavoring to bring the interviews to an end. "I'll let you guys get back to work now, and I'll take the parents over to the 'other' building." I knew what he meant: the parents had to go identify the body.

"Certainly." I said. "Again, I'm sorry for your loss, and we'll let you know more as soon as we find out anything."

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

8:30am Sunday morning is not a time I wanted to be in action, driving to the University's athletic dorm with Martin Nash. But necessity dictated fast movement.

"We've got to act quickly." I said. "You weren't here when we once interrogated a football player named Tony. He was supplying PEDs to the team at the time, which he bought from my nephew Ned and my sister Elizabeth. I want to talk with him and see if he knows anything about where Jeff Jackson was Friday night."

"Think he'll tell you?" Martin asked.

"If we frame the questions in the right way."

"So you're a Campus Police cop now?" Martin asked. He had noticed that I had clipped my Campus Police badge very prominently to the lapel of my sportscoat.

"Yep, I'm legitimate Law Enforcement on campus. You, not so much, so you'll just be my bodyguard."

"As if you need one." Martin said as we pulled into the parking lot of the athlete's dorm. I flashed my badge as we went by the front desk, where some punk kid was on duty. We went down the hall to the far end stairs and ascended to the third floor. Coming out of the stairwell, there was a study room to the left. Three doors down to the right, I stopped and knocked. The door was opened by a teen athlete, who was Tony's roommate. Tony was in bed, just waking up.

"Get up, Tony." I commanded. "Let's go talk."

"Wha-- what the fuck!" Tony said as he woke up. When he saw who I was, he got angry. "You said you were going to stay the fuck away from me!"

"And I have." I said. "Now put on a pair of pants and let's go talk in the study room at the end of the hall."

"I don't have anything to say to you." Tony sneered.

"You do if you want to play football this year." I said. "I just want to talk, Tony. Down the hall. Let's go."

"Shit." Tony said. "Cal, call the coach and tell them this fucking cop is bugging me."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Cal." I said. "I just want to talk to this guy, not get him in trouble. You call the coach, and I'll be forced to arrest both of you."

"Wait until I get back before calling, Cal." Tony said. Much wiser, I thought to myself.

In the study room, Tony and I sat at one small round table while Martin Nash stood guard at the door.

"Tony, you know Jeff Jackson was found dead Friday night." I said.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Do you know what he was doing that night? Did he go to a party or anything?" I asked.

"I have no idea." Tony said. "I didn't hang out with the guy. And why are you bugging me about it? You said you'd leave my ass alone last time you dragged me to your police station."

"Yes, I did, Tony," I said, "and this isn't about that. You're not in trouble, here, bud. But there appeared to be PED residues in Jackson's system when he was found dead, and last I heard you were the go-to guy for PEDs around here."

"Look, man," Tony said, sounding a bit desperate. "After all that shit went down with Big Alex and my supplier, I stopped doing or spreading that PED shit. I walked away cold; someone else handles that, and I don't know who it is, and don't wanna know. I really don't know anything about any of this."

"How about a name of someone who

can

tell me about Jeff Jackson and his whereabouts Friday night. I don't really care about the PEDs, I just want to find out what happened to your teammate." I said.

"You might want to talk to Teddy Franklin." Tony said, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper. "He's the H-back in our multiple sets, and he practiced and worked out with Jeff a lot. I think they partied a lot together, too, shared women and all that."

"What's his room number?"

"He doesn't live in this dorm." Tony said. "He lives in the Old Dorm. He's in ROTC as well as on the football team, so he was in front of the line to get one of the big rooms there." Tony gave me the room number.

"Thanks." I said. "Just one more question... did your supplier, Ned, did he ever come back and visit you?"

Tony didn't speak for a second, then realized that it would be better to tell me. With a sigh he said "Yeah. Just two weeks ago. I was walking back to the locker room after practice and he came up to me. He was wearing the same golf shirt and athletic pants that our trainers wear, looked as if he were one of 'em. He told me to keep walking and he walked with me.

"He said he was pissed and that I still owed him his money. I got my hackles up and told him that he wasn't getting any money from me, that I didn't have it, and that my football buddies would rip his ass apart if something happened to me. He told me to calm down and then said that all he wanted me to do was to take him to see Coach Harlan and introduce him, and that all of my debt would be forgiven, every dime, and that I'd never see him again."

"What did you do?" I asked.

"Took him to see Coach Harlan in the Coach's office. I left them alone. Coach later asked how I knew the guy and I told him the kid had paid me to introduce them. I don't know if the coach believed me, but he said that he didn't want to see that kid again and that I was to report it if I saw him again on campus."

Just then there was a banging on the door. One of the assistant coaches was at the door, in the company of the punk who had been at the front desk.

"Let him in, Martin." I said.

"Hey, what's going on here?" the coach asked. "Cops can't talk to our guys without talking to us first--"

As I stood up, the coach stared at me, gaping. "Don? My God, Don is that you?"

"How are you, Coach?" I said, offering my hand, but that wasn't enough. The Coach grabbed me in a bear hug as if I were his long-lost son. I hugged him back.

"How the hell are you, son? Haven't seen you since you graduated and got your commission!"

"Martin, this is Coach Marshall, Erskine "Iron Man" Marshall." I said, introducing Martin Nash to him. "He's the weight training coach, and was in that same job at my school when I was there. He volunteered to weight train the ROTC cadets as his contribution to the military services, and my God! did he torture us for a year, getting us ready for camp!"

"Yeah, I was the 'Iron Man', and now this guy is the 'Iron Crowbar', go figure. Yeah, I heard about that, Don. Been meaning to get in touch with you, but we're so busy." Coach Marshall said. He was almost a "Mr. Clean" lookalike, with his bald head and well-built body, but he was older, was not very tall, and his blue eyes were piercing.

"Right back at you." I said. "I can't seem to get past the Campus Police station when I visit campus."

"Or the Psychology Department, so I've heard." Marshall said, laughing. "Martin, I'm sure you know that this guy is one hell of a cop. I knew he was going to be one hell of an officer, too. If Tony here would work out as hard as Don did, Tony would be a Heisman Trophy candidate-- hey, Tony's not in any trouble here, is he?"