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 12 - Keys To The Kingdom (continued)
I typed it out:
K/[/G P;D,A MBAML .SAFE DE[PS OTBPX MI,BE RPMEP METWP
"Oooh, I see some words!" Cindy said. "And that has to be 'safe deposit box', there."
"I think you're right." I said. "So now, on to the second key. What I realized is that there are only a few punctuation marks, and if you look at your typewriter keyboard, you'll see they are all on the right side. That led me to thinking about the 'right to tight, left is loose' hint. Now the word 'safe' appears to be whole and clean, and you can see some of the word 'deposit'. Those letters are all typed with the left hand on the standard keyboard."
"So what does that mean?" asked Paulina.
"If I leave my left hand in place," I said, "that leaves the right hand. Now to code it, I'd move my fingers one key to the right. Instead of
JKL;
as the home keys, I would have
KL;'
typed out. So, to decode, let's go left, where the home keys are
HJKL
and see what happens..."
Doing so, and not looking at the keys but at the screen, I typed out:
J.P.G OLDMA NBANK ,SAFE DEPOS ITBOX NUMBE RONEO NETWO
"And with just a little re-spacing..." I said as I typed:
J.P. GOLDMAN BANK, SAFE DEPOSIT BOX NUMBER ONE ONE TWO
"Oh my God, you
got
it!" Cindy exclaimed.
"Heh heh heh heh." said the Chief. "No wonder the CIA wanted you to join them."
"That is amazing." said Paulina as she massaged my shoulders with her strong hands. Mmmm, that felt good...
"Thank you." I said. "So, let's do this. Paulina, a warrant, if you please..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
We had some delay getting the warrant. Judge Rodney K. Watts was always patient with me when I explained why I needed a warrant, and in this case he was absolutely fascinated with my demonstration of cryptography in decoding the Sharples message, as well as the explanations behind it. He issued the warrant once I had explained.
J.P. Goldman Bank had just closed, but Selena Steele had been forewarned that we were coming. So we had the bank and the safe deposit box vault to ourselves.
"Tim here regularly drills out our boxes for us." said Selena as we watched the young man prepare his powerful drill and a huge, diamond-tipped bit. "We can replace the lock or even the whole door from inside once it's opened."
"Cool beans." I said. "So who did this box belong to?"
"It was under the name of 'Cy Hart'." said Selena. "He's an attorney from Midtown. He rented the box on behalf of a Dr. Thomas Burris, and the yearly rent was paid from a trust that Mr. Hart maintained for his now-deceased client."
"Cy Hart." I said. "That name sounds familiar, but I'm not sure why."
"My father has hired him several times for legal matters." Cindy said. "That's probably where you heard his name."
I just nodded, saying no more: I had just realized that 'Cy Hart' had been part of my 'dream' while being tortured by Casey B. Walker. (
Author's Note: 'Dream Weaver'
) I had no intention of speaking of that out loud.
A few minutes later, the door was ready. Selena put the bank's lock key into the slot and turned it, and with some tugging the door came open. Putting on latex gloves, I pulled out the box inside. Inside that box were three manila envelopes, stuffed chock-fill of papers and jump drives. I gave Selena a receipt for the contents, then Cindy and I made our goodbyes to Selena, Tim, and Paulina, and took the evidence to Headquarters under two-man control.
Once at Headquarters, I commandeered two of the copy machines that digitized papers from the Administration Department, and brought them to my office. Then Myron, Mary, and I began processing the papers, transferring the data to an encrypted server that had as much security on it as I could possibly put on it. Needless to say, the jump drives were also copied over.
When it was time for me to go to the Council meeting, Cindy took over helping, and she, Myron and Mary completed the job. By the time midnight struck, fifteen hundred pages of data would be in my evidence servers.
Part 13 - Advice of Council
The public part of the Town & County Council meeting being over, they retired into executive session to discuss 'personnel' issues. Mainly one personnel... me.
Chief Moynahan was sitting in one of the chairs against the wall of the private Council Chamber, the room where the redoubtable Bowser had exposed Pastor Raymond K. Westboro as the Consultant of Crime. The Chief was dressed in a 'Duty Dress' jacket. I was sitting next to him, but wearing only my light blue shirt with soft shoulderboards and darker blue pants, looking good but making a distinct point to not 'dress up' for this political body.
"We want to thank you, Chief Moynahan, and you, Commander Troy, for accepting our invitation to come to this meeting tonight." said Mayor Larry P. Vaughan, the People's Choice, his voice connoting a courteousness that fooled no one present. "By the way, were is Captain Ross? We asked her to come, also."
"She's supervising an important mission, Mr. Mayor." I said.
"What does she consider more important?" Kelly Carnes asked acidly. "Sitting in her office, or answering our summons to be here?"
"She's doing her job." I said. "Keeping filthy drugs away from the children of the County. Surely you have no problem with that, Mrs. Carnes?"
"It's an insult to us." Carnes replied. "She should be here now."
"Blame me, not her." I said. "I excused her to her duties."
"And I support that." said Chief Moynahan. "Anything about the Police Department can be asked of me and the Commander. It is more important for Captain Ross to be at her jobbbbbb."
"I disagree." said Carnes. "When you're ordered to be here, you should be here."
"Ordered?" I replied, but not getting angry; I knew that was Kelly Carnes's intent. "You don't
'order'
anyone in the Police Department to do anything."
The Mayor began tapping his gavel. "Yes, you are right, Commander. And we do understand Captain Ross needing to be at her job. Let's move forward. Mr. Cook?"
"Thank you, Mr. Mayor." said Thomas P. Cook. "And the issue of Captain Ross's absence is ironic in the light that if you had a Vice Lieutenant, Captain Ross could delegate to him or her and be here herself. It is the overall situation of the absence of leadership in the Detectives Division, which is leading to the breakdown of the Police Force's ability to do their jobs, that we are here to discuss."
"Chief, or Commander," said the Mayor, why don't you come to the head of the table and the podium, rather than sit behind half of us."
"Consider this delegated to youuuuuu, Mr. Crowbar." said the Chief, per our previous plan, but still making humor out of it. I got myself into a standing position, then went to the podium.
"My first comment in reply," I said, "is that Mr. Cook has been listening to Bettina Wurtzburg too long, and believing the 'False News' that is being narrated. Our Police Force is running just fine, as some perps will find out tonight, Lord willin' and the Creek don't rise. My Detectives in both branches are very capable and do an outstanding job, in ways you and the Public don't really get to see every day. And while we are looking to fill the vacant Lieutenant slots, I am extremely fortunate to have an excellent Captain of Detectives supervising them."