This story is part of an ongoing series.
The chronological order of my stories is 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 18 - Custodial Engineering
10:05am, Sunday, November 17th. We landed at the State Capitol Office Building helipad in Midtown. Detectives Nell Bell and Steve Ruger were there with a Midtown Police van.
"Where to?" Ruger asked as he got behind the wheel of the van. Nell Bell had allowed me to ride shotgun.
"The office of Prodder, Ryder & Reems." I said. "Darryl Dawson's cell is pinging from there. I am hoping he really is there."
"We have units at his apartment home." said Nell Bell. "Your warrant allows us to search the place. They'll go in if we arrest Dawson at his office, or they'll go in looking for him at his home..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Arriving at the office complex, we clambered out of the van. "There's his car." said Nell Bell, pointing at a vehicle, one of two in expensive models in the otherwise empty lot. We rushed for the front door. Nell put in the code, and we rushed inside, and to the offices of Prodder, Ryder & Reems, P.C. Nell entered the he manufacturers code, but it no longer opened the door to the suite.
"And people wonder why I carry a crowbar." I said, producing the useful tool. Everyone else had their guns drawn as I fit the end in the crack between the doors and applied pressure..
*SNAP!*
The door flew open, and Ruger and Roark quickly went in to clear the office, followed by Julia and Nell. I came in last, and walked up to the office door of Darryl Dawson.
"No one else here." whispered Steve Ruger as they all came up to me. I motioned for them to hold back, then I slowly pushed open the door to the office, holding my crowbar, my weapon still holstered. I saw that Darryl was sitting in is chair behind the desk, looking out the window, seemingly lost in contemplation.
"Darryl Dawson?" I said from the doorway.
"Who wants to know--- oh, I wasn't expecting
you.
" Dawson said. "A long way from home... and your jurisdiction... aren't you, Mr. Iron Crowbar?"
I came on inside the office... and saw that Dawson was not alone. "Well, look who's here!" said Gwen Munson, who was sitting on the sofa to my left and Dawson's right. She had initially been hidden from view.
"And how
did
you get in here?" Dawson said as he turned around in his chair. "I changed the codes."
I held up the red crowbar. "Who needs codes?" I replied. "And yes, I'm Donald Troy... Inspector Donald Troy of the SBI. So I'm well within jurisdiction."
"And breaking and entering." snarled Gwen Munson.
"Legally serving a warrant." I replied, holding up the folded piece of paper. "You see, Mr. Dawson, it seems that the killer took a shower after murdering Beverly... to wash her blood off. And in doing so, some DNA was left behind." I reached into my trenchcoat and pulled out the DNA test kit. "We can eliminate you as a suspect, if you'll just provide me with a sample now."
Dawson looked skeptically at me. "Don't you need a warrant for that?" he said.
"What do you think this is?" I asked, holding up the document again. "This warrant authorizes me to take a DNA cheek swab as well as other physical characteristics. It also allows me to search this place of business and your home for physical evidence, such as the clothes you and Beverly were wearing when you killed her."
"Is my client under arrest?" asked Gwen as Julia Rodriguez and Steve Ruger came into the office, weapons drawn but pointing at the floor. "And yes,
Inspector
Troy, you may consider Mr. Dawson to be my client."
"His arrest status depends on his level of cooperation." I replied. "Detective Rodriguez, take the DNA sample, if you will."
"With pleasure, sir." said Julia as she holstered her weapon and put on latex gloves. She approached Dawson with the DNA testing kit. "Open your mouth, please, Mr. Dawson?"
"Hand it here. I'll do it." said Dawson. He took the long Q-tip and swabbed inside his own cheek, then gave the swab back. Julia secured it in the plastic tube, sealed it, and made the evidence notations, which I countersigned.
"So, shall we go to Police Headquarters?" I said. "
Town & County Police Headquarters?
"
"What?!" gasped Gwen Munson. "How about Midtown PD Headquarters, if anywhere at all?"
"I'm taking him back to the jurisdiction where the murder took place." I said. "You get a free helicopter ride out of it, Mr. Dawson. Ms. Munson will have to follow in her vehicle. Perhaps Detectives Bell and Ruger will give you a ride..."
Part 19 - Legal Maneuvers
12:30pm, Sunday, November 17th. Darryl Dawson had been taken through full booking and was sitting in Interrogation-1. Next to him was his attorney, Gwen Munson. On the other side of the table was Your Iron Crowbar and ADA Paulina Patterson. You get one guess who the Uniformed Presence was, and that guess had better be 'Lieutenant Micah Rudistan'.
"I don't understand why this could not have been done in Midtown." snarled Gwen Munson. "And to have taken my client through full booking while I was driving up here? That's dirty pool, and you know it."
Gwen had driven herself to my County, and very fast. I was surprised that she was not stopped in Coltrane County, especially since I notified Deputy Strait to be on the lookout for her vehicle violating speeding laws in his county.
"I know nothing of the kind." I said witheringly. "As an SBI Inspector, I have the right to act on behalf of a jurisdiction to bring a wanted suspect to that jurisdiction for them, and that's exactly what I did. Furthermore to this subject, your client is now under arrest for suspicion of the murder in the first degree of Beverly DeAngelo, a human being."
Gwen replied: "I guess we'll see if all that crap you're spewing holds up when I make my motions to dismiss the charges."
"I guess we will... especially once the DNA tests come back." I replied. Having already read Dawson his considerable rights from the card, I said "You're in a world of hurt, Dawson."
"Pul-eeze!" said Gwen Munson. "Stop your intimidation tactics. You don't have crap on my client. Not a damn thing!"
"And there it is. The whine about 'intimidation'." I replied. "You tend to use that when you know your client is totally busted. So, Mr. Dawson... why don't I tell you what you did last Thursday night, and you just fill in the gaps where I go astray."
I could almost feel Cindy's vibe of happiness as she watched in the Monitor Room. I began: "You came up to my Town & County in a car rented in the name of MegaTech Industries. You arrived in the early evening and was given the key to Suite 802...
as MegaTech's, and specifically Elliot Sanders's legal counsel while he was in this State.
"
"So what?" snarled Gwen Munson.
"Interrupt me again, and we'll go back to 'Don't speak until spoken to.'." I said severely to Munson, my eyes boring right through her. She could not hold my stare, and when her eyes dropped in capitulation, I continued:
"As is MegaTech events custom for any events in this State, you were given the room next to Elliot Sanders, in this case Suite 802." I said. "You wore a sweater with a hoodie, you had a device that scrambled the video feed in the elevator, and the videocamera in the hallway was sabotaged, so there was no clear recording of you when you entered the facility. But I do have video footage of a man in a hoodie sweater and bringing a big gym bag into the hotel. Fortunately, I don't need that to prove my case."
Your Iron Crowbar: "You stayed in the room until around 11:00pm, when there was a knock on the door. You opened the door to admit your confederate, who texted Beryl Angel to come up to Suite 802. You hid in the back bedroom, and your confederate let Beryl into the room and had her begin undressing. A moment later, you sprang out of the bedroom, surprising Beryl, who had no chance to run. You forced her to her knees, slit open her throat, and dropped her dead on the floor."
"Who is this confederate? Or are you making her up?" Gwen asked. Both Paulina and I looked wide-eyed at her slip.
"Her?" Paulina asked, pouncing hard. "
So you know it's a woman?
"
"Him or her. Whatever." Gwen said, trying to backtrack, though her face had turned deep red. "And it doesn't matter. This is all pure fantasy. And I insist that you stop badgering my client with this garbage."
"If you think it's fantasy," I said, "then it shouldn't bother you that I speak of it. But this is a formal Police interrogation, and your client is required to listen to it. It might also serve his best interests to hear it."