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, racism, 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.
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Part 1 – Prologue
“What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice and everything nice;
That’s what little girls are made of.
What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails and puppy-dog tails;
That’s what little boys are made of.”
— attributed to Robert Southey, English poet and historian.
“This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!” shouted the redheaded MILF reporterette at 7:00am, Thursday, July 2nd, from near the entrance to the Fairgrounds, with Police Headquarters and the Crime Lab/Morgue buildings in the background. “The Town & County Police has made a huge drug bust!”
Bettina began: “Police raided a building near Al Sharpton Elementary School on the southwest side of Town, and arrested eight persons believed to be members of the Block House Boyz gang that was once led by Jacquez Wilson. Those arrested are alleged to have been cutting and packaging heroin and fentanyl into small bags, called ‘dime bags’, for sale on the streets. Police confiscated ten kilos of highly purified heroin, colloquially called ‘China White’, as well as quantities of fentanyl, with a street value in the millions of dollars.”
Bettina: “Vice Lieutenant Micah Rudistan issued a statement praising his Vice Squad and their supporting teams of Officers for the takedown, and also the new Intelligence Division for developing the information leading to the busts from what he described as ‘numerous anonymous tips’. Chief Sean Moynahan also issued a statement praising the work of all the Officers involved.”
Bettina: “In other news, the Police Union’s lawsuit against Police Commander Donald Troy was dismissed with prejudice by Superior Court Judge Patrick R. Folsom, who stated in his ruling that the Union was not following the protools outlined in the Collective Bargaining Agreement in their grievance against Commander Troy. He also cited over 150 ‘Friend of the Court’ briefs filed by Police Officers stating that the Union was not acting in their interests in attempting to get Commander Troy fired. Commander Troy still may face a Board of Inquest over his actions in the McCombs incident.”
Bettina: “In State news, candidate for Governor and current Lieutenant Governor Sharon Marshall will attend the Independence Day Triathlon here in our Town & County on Saturday, July 4th. Town Assemblywoman Stacey Jacobs, who narrowly lost her bid to unseat Malinda Adams as the Democrat nominee for Adams’s Council seat, issued a statement saying, quote, ‘It’s not surprising that the racist, illegitimate Mayor Daniel Allgood would invite the racist, White Nationalist Lieutenant Governor Sharon Marshall to attend a celebration of a day of White Supremacy that is offensive to People of Color’, close quote.”
Bettina: “In a related story, Democrat nominee for Governor Hoyt Stenson canceled his expected appearance at the Police Chiefs Association picnic and fireworks show in Midtown, and he did not cite a reason for backing out. In a related story, the Stenson Campaign did not send anyone to a meeting with the Marshall Campaign and the State League of Women Voters, who sponsors State-level debates, leaving a series of three debates in limbo with regard to time and place.”
Bettina: “Democrat Candidate for Lieutenant Governor Corey Coons will attend a ‘Black Lives Matter’ rally in The City on Saturday. His opponent, Ruby Russell, will attend a State Republican rally in Pottsville, hosted by State House Minority Leader Wilson Hammonds and State Senator Cain Mitchell…”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Well, let’s go find the real Bettina’s body.” Captain Tanya P. Muscone said as we drank coffee in the Chief’s Conference Room. Teresa Croyle was not with us, but Paulina Patterson was. “Katherine Woodburn has to have disposed of it somewhere, and put that doppelgänger in Bettina’s place.”
“It was definitely a refreshing channnnnge.” drawled Chief Moynahan.
“It sure was.” said Deputy Chief Cindy Ross, looking at me. I said nothing, and just stared at her, so she changed the subject:
“Congratulations to you and the Vice Squad, Tanya!” said Cindy. “That was a great bust!”
“Thanks!” Tanya said happily with her cherubic grin. “But it truly was a team effort, and I didn’t have much to do with it. Lieutenant Rudistan led the whole thing, Joan Laurer led the physical raid, and we ambushed the perps really good. Not a shot fired, and they all just put their hands up and surrendered.”
“You got ‘a lot’ (air quotes) of anonymous tips?” Paulina Patterson asked.
“Yes.” said Tanya. “From what Mary Milton was telling me, we got two separate calls on our ‘hot tip’ line, then several C.I.s confirmed it when our guys contacted them. We pretty much cleaned up what was left of Jacquez Wilson’s gang.”
“I wish all our busts were that easy.” I said.
“What do you mean, Mr. Crowbarrrr?” asked the Chief.
“I’m not trying to diminish what Vice and the Police Force did in any way,” I said, “but isn’t it amazing how quickly and completely the Block House Boyz were taken out?”
“Ahhhh… you heard what I heard, Crowbar, didn’t you?” growled Sheriff Griswold.
“Though probably from different sources, Sheriff.” I replied.
“What did y’all hear?” Cindy asked.
The Sheriff indicated for me to do the talking, so I said: “Again, not to diminish what the TCPD did… but I got word that KXTC itself was the source of the anonymous tips and the C.I.s getting word of that facility. And before you ask: the reason why was to cover their asses.”
Your Iron Crowbar: “Word was getting around the Black Community as well as the Underworld that Lester Holder and Burt West set up Jacquez Wilson to be killed, that they guided him into that standoff, and it went wrong for Holder when the explosives in the building went off early and killed him, too. Add to it those two guys who basically committed ‘suicide-by-cop’ during the abduction of Gunddottar, and the gang was wondering if the Media misled and set them up, too. Ergo, the Block House Boyz were getting pissed.”
Cindy said “I got word from my Media source that Martin Nash and Lindsey Black were trying to leak it to the Media and the Black Community that someone, whose name won’t be mentioned but his initials are (I)ron (C)rowbar, fired missiles at the building, or otherwise somehow caused the explosives to go off early. But the National Media left Town and the locals didn’t seem interested. But she… my source… didn’t say anything about this business involving KXTC.”
I said “Priya’s with KFXU, so she may not hear what KXTC is doing as quickly as she used to. Also, after Karina White burst Nash’s bubble with the ‘official’ (air quotes) report saying the explosives went off early, and maybe because of the radio transmissions from the KXTC camera in the Block House, Nash and Black gave up and went home.”
Me: “Anyhoo, the new story is that KXTC set up Jacquez Wilson, and word was that his gang was going to retaliate with a hit on KXTC reporters. So someone puts out word where we could find the rest of the gang, and hey, presto! we clean them up completely. That’s not a complaint, just the facts. I just don’t want KXTC to think we’re Agencies of the Weak-Minded, and that we weren’t aware that we were doing their cleanup for them.”
Tanya said “I have another question. I get it that Corey Coons will appear at a ‘Black Lives Matter’ rally on Saturday; after all, he’s running his whole race on race, pun not intended. But why did Stacey Jacobs come out with that pure racist hate speech about July 4th?”
I said “I think that’s what you’re going to hear from the Media going forward: patriotism is racism. If you love America, you’re a racist. If you support the Constitution, especially out loud, you’re a racist. Salute the Flag, you’re a racist. And July 4th? A day for racists to celebrate white slave owners.”
I continued: “Look at what happened with the NFL A worthless slug that was about to get cut because he was not good enough to play quarterback anymore starts playing the race card, wearing socks depicting Police Officers literally as Pigs. That saved him for one more season, then he got cut anyway. But then… blacks started kneeling for the National Anthem in protest.”
Your Iron Crowbar: “Hey, they can protest all they want for the other 23 hours and 58 minutes of the day, but for the two minutes of the National Anthem, show some respect, huh? But no, that’s when they want to disrespect the Flag and our Nation with their Identity Politics protest. And now… the NFL itself plays the so-called ‘Black National Anthem’ before games. There’s only ONE National Anthem, people, and I find the whole term and concept of a ‘Black National Anthem’ to be racist and offensive!”
“Strong letter to follow.” said Cindy Ross.
“He’s right, though.” said Paulina. “And it extends to the Justice System. According to these race baiters, the Constitution was written by white slave owners, and it permitted slavery and counted blacks as three-fifths of a person. So the Constitution is racist, even though it was fixed and slavery outlawed. And since the Constitution is racist, then the Justice System under it is racist.”
“Strong letter to follow.” Cindy said again, trying to lighten the mood, which was getting tense.
I said “My question for Our Sheriff is: why isn’t Hoyt Stenson’s Campaign at least negotiating debates with Sharon Marshall?”
“Har.” barked Sheriff Griswold. “I’ll just say this: I want all of you to watch Hoyt Stenson’s press conferences, public statements and speeches, and make observations and deductions. Having seen my wife in the early and later stages of Dementia, I’m seeing a man in the early stages of Dementia.”
“That explains why he’s hiding in his basement, avoiding public appearances and debates.” said Tanya. “Does the Media know about this?”
“Oh yes.” said Griswold. “And they’re going to protect him as much as they can—”
*BRING!* *BRING!* *BRING!* *BRING!*
It was my personal cellphone, and the caller was my wife Laura. I listened to her, then said “Okay, thanks for calling… I love you, too. See you tonight.” As I disconnected, I looked up at everyone.
“That was Laura at the Hospital.” I said. “She was calling to report on Inga Gunddottar. Sepsis has not set in, and they’ve upgraded her to ‘critical’. She’s still in an induced coma, she will have more surgery next week, and she has a long ways to go. But ‘critical’ is a damn sight better than ‘grave’.”
“Oh, that’s awesome news.” Tanya said. “Every day she doesn’t get worse is a win.” Cindy and I nodded vigorously in agreement.
“How’s Jerome Davis doing?” Cindy asked Tanya.
“He’s doing his job pretty well.” said Tanya. “But he leaves here, goes to the Hospital, and stays there all night. I’ve talked to him, the Chief has talked to him, Father Romano has talked to him, and we tell him there nothing he can do at the Hospital. She’s not going to wake up out of the induced coma until they bring her out of it, and people will be fighting for a phone to call him if and when that happens.”
“I’ll talk to him, then.” I said. “Possibly with a little more authority in my voice…”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Righteousness exalteth a Nation; but sin is a reproach to any People.”
—- Proverbs 14:34.
“Tell me again why we could not just have used the BOW Enterprises plane?” Teresa asked Todd.
It was the same Thursday, July 2nd, and they were sitting in the terminal at Dallas-Ft. Worth Airport (DFW), waiting for a connecting flight to Lake Charles Regional Airport (LCH) in southwest Louisiana. She noticed a large plane coming into the terminal at the Gate next to theirs.
Todd replied “First of all, I left the plane available for Teddy Franklin’s use while he sets up our businesses near your hometown. He’s also having to fly to Washington, D.C., as well as to meet the executives of the Midwest & Pacific Railroad to coordinate things.”
“So why not charter us a plane?” Teresa asked.
“And that’s the second reason we’re not flying the BOW plane, nor a charter.” Todd said. “I told you before we’re doing a lot of cost-cutting. It’s much, much cheaper to fly commercial than fly our plane down there, what with all the fuel and housing expenses. And it’s hard to justify a personal trip to take it off our taxes. And honey, I did splurge for first class.”
“True.” said Teresa. “And that makes sense. I’m mostly concerned about security issues, being a near-paranoid cop and all—”
She stopped talking as she saw two boys at the window, overlooking the tarmac and the planes at the gate. “Wow!” one of the boys said. “There’s Army guys there, and a hearse!” She got up and went over to them, and saw what they did; an Army Honor Guard was taking a Flag-draped coffin off the back of the big plane.
Teresa instinctively came to attention, and exhibited her beautiful singing voice as she began singing the Battle Hymn of the Republic:
“Mine eyes have seen the Glory of the coming of the Lord,
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He has loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword,
His Truth is marching on…”
People heard her singing and got up to see what was going on, and soon almost everyone at those Gates were standing respectfully. Two Army Enlisted men in camo uniforms came to the window, came to attention, and saluted. And as the coffin was loaded into the hearse, which then drove away down the tarmac, many people there joined Teresa in the chorus:
“Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His Truth is marching on!”
As everyone went back to their seats, the two enlisted soldiers came over to Teresa and said “Thank you, ma’am.”
“It was my honor. And I appreciate your service.” Teresa replied. She saw the unit patches on their uniforms. “503d Military Police Battalion, I see. Airborne unit.”
“Yes ma’am.” said one of the soldiers. “We’re headed back to Fort Bragg, North Carolina. If I may ask, how did you know our unit?”
“Your unit patch.” Teresa said. “My boss and I are Police Officers, and he was a Captain in a Reserve MP unit, and a Paratrooper, so we talked about MP units as well as the Airborne units…”
Part 2 – Mirror Image
9:05am, Thursday, July 2nd. My assistant Helena buzzed me to tell me that Captain Muscone and State Crime Lab Chief Chemist Christina Cho wanted to see me. I had them come in.
Christina was wearing a white dress and cork-high-heel white sandals, and she was looking mighty tasty. I remembered that ‘tradition’ that the Best Man and Maid of Honor would have sex, and as we’d been in those roles in Jack and Tanya’s wedding, my little crowbar was hoping that tradition would come true. But I digress.
“So what can I do for you?” I asked after offers of coffee or water had been politely refused.
“Sir,” Tanya said, “the State Crime Lab analyzed some of the drugs we confiscated
last night, including samples ranging from the bricks of pure ‘China white’, to the already packaged dime bags. This is to show it was what we thought it was, and also sometimes we can tell specific batches if there are enough unique ‘markers’ in the samples.”
“And that’s the case here?” I asked.
“Yes, Commander.” Christina said. “We found something very unusual in the small packages, and then in the batches of bulk heroin. It had been cut with mostly starch, but there was some sugar, plain old table sugar, in there. We analyzed it more closely, and we found this.” She extended a file folder with papers to me, and I examined them.
“Ohh, I see what you’re saying.” I said. “The sugar is L-dextrose… well, I should say L-glucose. That is interesting. And I see why you came to me with it.”
“Someone clue me in.” said Tanya. “On what that is, and why it’s a BFD.”
I said “Sugars, like glucose, have isomers that are mirror-images of one another, but can’t be turned to be identical. D-glucose is what occurs in Nature, for whatever reason God and the Universe decided. L-glucose is not natural, but can be made synthetically.”
“Like some potassium isotopes are radioactive?” asked Tanya.
“Not quite.” I said. “Isotopes are at the atomic level. Isomers are variants in chemical structures.” I held up my hands, then put them together as I said “Our hands are mirror-image isomers like that; mirror images of each other, and they can’t be turned in a way to line up identically.” Tanya nodded as she put her hands together the same way.
I continued: “And the reason it’s important is because the L-sugar doesn’t occur naturally; therefore, it was probably introduced somewhere in the line of this batch of drug’s pathway to our County, and on purpose so it could be traced. And that suggests we’ve stumbled onto a Government operation. I’ll explain more fully later, but listen as I make a phone call.”
I got out my Police iPhone and called FBI Special Agent In Charge Jack Muscone. “Hi Jack.” I said. “I’m going to put you on speaker. I’m here with your lovely wife and her lovely Maid of Honor.”
“Hi ladies.” Jack’s voice said through the speaker. “What’s up?”
I said “Jack, will you do me a favor? Call Dwight Stevens of the DEA, and tell him Commander Troy wants to know if he uses sugar in his coffee.”
“Whaa?” said Jack. “Ask if he uses sugar in his coffee, you said?”
“Exactly that.” I said. “And ask him that way. And after he uses a lot of words he did not learn in my daddy’s household, tell him that Commander Troy is ready to help him with his case if he wants that help…”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
9:30am. My assistant Helena was again called upon to admit visitors to my office. They were FBI Special Agent In Charge Jack Muscone and DEA Supervisory Special Agent Dwight Stevens. Muscone was wearing his ubiquitous FBI suit and tie. Stevens was dressed more casually, like an engineer on a construction site or something.
“Yeah,” said Jack as they sat down at my bidding, “I didn’t learn any new words, but I heard some old ones.”
“Okay,” said Stevens, “how much do you know, and when did you know it?”
I handed him the file folder. “As you may have heard, our Vice Squad made a big bust of a stash house last night. The State Crime Lab analyzed some of it, and found some small amount of sugar was mixed in with the starch they were cutting the drugs with. The sugar was not naturally-occurring D-glucose, but L-glucose. They came to me, and I subsequently came to you.”
“Why us?” asked Muscone.
“Just as our Universe is positive-matter, with virtually no antimatter in existence,” I said, “when our earth was created, for whatever reason the D-sugar became dominant and then exclusive. Animals, including humans, can and do process D-sugars as food. L-sugars cannot be chemically processed by our bodies, which were made to process D-sugars, but L-sugar tastes exactly like D-sugar, and it can be synthetically created.”
“As such,” I continued, “L-sugar would be a great substitute for D-sugar for diabetics, or just for those wanting to lose weight. And some years ago, BigAgraFoods and BigPharmaCorp did research and development of foods with L-sugars. They discontinued the projects after it was determined that making L-sugars were too expensive to make to be economically feasible.”
Me: “But the Government has the money to have BigPharmaCorp or someone else make them a batch or two of L-sugars, and the L-sugar could be used to trace the path drugs were taking, from a little bit in otherwise pure bricks, to the sugar being part of the cutting agent. Soooo, Mr. Stevens, have we stumbled onto a DEA operation?”
“Yes, you have.” said Dwight Stevens. “And I appreciate you coming to me about this first. And kudos to your Crime Lab for catching it; most crime labs wouldn’t be looking for this.”
Muscone said “Dwight, tell him the details of it, before he goes off finding out for himself.”
“Okay.” said Dwight. “Here’s the full story, Don, and I know you have the clearance, so just verbally agree before this here witness Mr. Muscone that you won’t talk out of turn about it.”
“Scout’s Honor.” I said, making the Boy Scout sign with my right hand. I’m an Eagle Scout; I can do that and mean it.
Dwight Stevens started: “Good enough. The project is called ‘Operation CHICAGO SPICE’, because Chicago has the L-Train, and someone got cute about the name. It’s exactly as you said: we had the idea to put some L-sugars into drug shipments into the United States. We had people in Mexico that could put L-glucose in their shipments over the border, and some people in Miami adding other, more complex sugars into their incoming shipments.”
Stevens: “It was kind of like the ‘Fast & Furious’ operation with guns, but we didn’t provide drugs, just added the L-sugars at the sources. All this was, was to trace the path of the drugs. Unlike radioactive particles, which could be detected, the sugars were untraceable unless one really knew what to look for. We weren’t really trying to make busts, at least not originally. ”
Stevens: “The project began four years ago, and I was vetted for it and put on the team almost three years ago. And in the early going, the project went very well. We were able to trace some major pipelines into the USA, and where the drugs were going. We learned a lot about the operations the cartels set up and how they ran their businesses.”
Stevens: “Of course, one problem would be that eventually the sugars would branch out, like tree branches or blood vessels, and there would be so many traces around that the information would become less and less useful. And we also had to use different chemicals, as we can’t tell one batch of dextrose from another if it was from two different sources. But we got good information for a good while.’
Stevens: “The party stopped a few months ago, when we we found this huge batch of pure heroin with L-glucose in St. Louis, then another one in Kansas City. We looked for where those batches came from, and they didn’t match up with any previous known batches we’d marked with the L-sugars. So we thought we might have a whole new pipeline. But then someone figured out that this was a whole new batch of L-sugar, and not part of the original project.”
Stevens: “So, we figured that someone else had independently had the same idea we had, and inadvertently stepped on our toes by running their operation. But it was ‘no joy’ on finding out who had done that. And then we realized that someone might’ve found out about our program, and put these batches out to fuck up our whole project… which succeeded. We were going to wind it down anyway, but that made us go ahead and wrap it up even faster.”
I nodded. “Will what we found help you in any way?” I asked.
Stevens said “Sure. It’s a data point, if nothing else. I’ll send it to the analysts, and they’ll run it against the existing data.”
I said “I’d appreciate it if you could share any findings about this with us. The Block House Boyz are finished as an organization, but I’d love to know where they were getting their China White and their fentanyl from, and maybe this would help.”
Stevens said “Sure, I’ll send whatever we find to you. I can tell you what you probably know already, that since Marcie Harper’s operation was taken down,” (Author’s note: ‘Schoolhouse Rock’.) “most of the drugs come up the River to Midtown from Southport, then by whatever means up the highways to here. The City also has pipelines into it, but most of the product stays there, to meet the needs of the City’s addicts.”
“Why does the River traffic stop at Midtown?” Jack Muscone asked.
Stevens said “The River is navigable up to the northwestern edge of Midtown. The State Line River is very navigable up to Randolph Heights, which is across the State Line River from Benning County in this State, and then river shipping suddenly can’t go further north.”
I said “A professor with the University’s Geology Department was telling me about the meteor strike that formed Lake Reservoir, and he also told me that there was a major fault line that ran through Midtown and roughly northwest across the State west of us. About 400,000 years ago that fault line moved, a lot. If the San Andreas fault moved as much, the professor said, San Francisco and Los Angeles would be utterly destroyed.”
Jack emitted a low whistle. “Wow, that must’ve re-routed some rivers.” he said.
I replied “And more. It created waterfalls at the fault line, which is why Midtown was settled and populated, and there’s a waterfall at Randolph Heights. It also damaged the land that is now Benning County, making it virtually unusable for growing crops. But ships can’t climb the waterfalls, and the rivers above the fault line aren’t navigable, anyway.”
“Fascinating stuff.” said Jack Muscone. “But back to the lines in the here and now: drug lines. I agree with Don that this might be an opportunity to learn about how drugs are being distributed through the State, and especially up to our children here at the University. Who are the DEA’s people in Southport?”
“Juan Alberto Morales is our team leader down there.” said Dwight Stevens. “Good Agent, and a good guy.”
I said “Jack, this might be something we can have Tim Jenkins work with me on, as well.”
“How’s he doing since he was wounded?” Dwight Stevens asked. (Author’s note: ‘Woman In Love’, Ch. 03-04.)
“Physically, he’s just about fully recovered.” Jack Muscone said. “He’s agreed to stay with the FBI, and he’s on our equivalent of desk duty down in Southport again. And I agree, Don, this would be something he could work on with us, if Dwight and the DEA agree.”
“Absolutely.” said Stevens.
“And here’s something Jenkins can work on.” I said. “One reason I called you when I saw the Crime Lab report, is because the cutting agents the Block House Boyz were using had a lot of L-sugar in it. I can see where the pre-cut pure China White had some of the L-sugar from your previous operation, but for them to have fresh sugar with the L-sugar in it? That’s new and different.. and a starting point for us to look into.”
“I see what you’re saying.” said Muscone. “What did the Block House Boyz know, and when did they know it?…”
Part 3 – Cajun Country
The heat and humidity of the Louisiana summer hit them like a blast wave as they disembarked from the aircraft at Lake Charles Airport. “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto.” Todd quipped. He was wearing a suit and tie, and was paying the price for that choice of clothing now.
“I’m about to melt like the Wicked Witch.” Teresa replied. She was wearing a green dress, which was much cooler than Todd’s suit. “Let’s go get our luggage.”
After retrieving their luggage from Baggage Claim, they headed to the main entrance, and the parking lots beyond. As always, Teresa was looking around warily. Suddenly, she pulled Todd back behind a column near the entrance.
“Whaa?” Todd gasped, surprised. “What is it?” Teresa pointed for him to look through the glass of the entrance foyer, and he saw what she had seen. Outside the entrance/exit to the building, several people were holding placards with names. One young man was holding one with the name ‘Burke’ on it.
Teresa said “You said you rented a car, right?”
Todd said “Yes. Did your family send a car anyway?”
Teresa said “Even if they did… I told them that my husband was coming with me, but I never told them your last name. They only know my name, ‘Croyle’!”
“We could get Airport Security to check the guy out.” said Todd. “Or do the Iron Crowbar thing, and walk into the trap.”
“Do you see me carrying a crowbar?” Teresa replied. “And now you know why I don’t. Yeah, let’s get security— oh, wait.”
She was seeing the back of a dark-haired man come up to the young man. She could not see the man’s face, nor anything but the long, black hair of the back of the head of the woman that was with him. They began walking in the other direction, giving Teresa no chance to see their faces.
“False alarm.” Teresa said. “There’s another Burke in the Bayou, I guess. Coincidences do exist.”
“You can always have one coincidence.” said Todd as they went out toward the rental car area. “I wonder who that ‘Burke’ is, though he’s probably not related to me.”
“I dunno.” Teresa said. “As prolific as your father was with women around the country, maybe he left you a brother here in Cajun Country. His hair color was the same as yours.”
“Yeah, it was…” Todd said thoughtfully.
“Like uncle, like nephew.” Teresa said with as much of a grin as anyone was going to get from her. “Reverie time.”
“Naah.” Todd said. “Maybe just me being as paranoid as you usually are. I just had a fleeting thought that that was the brother I do know about… Benny Black.”
“Hmph!” Teresa said. “So who was the black-haired beauty with him?” Todd merely shrugged his shoulders in response…
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As they drove east-by-southeast out of the populated areas, unerringly guided by the Siri program in Todd’s iPhone, Teresa watched the landscape. “We are definitely on the bayou now.” she said.
“Yeah.” Todd said. “It’s awesome, isn’t it?”
“Gives me a new meaning, really the old meaning, for the word ‘diversity’.” Teresa replied.
Todd chuckled. “So tell me again who we’re going to meet?” he asked.
Teresa started: “My mother’s parents were Charles and Clara Belvedere. His father began a confectionary business, which supplied the Army with candies during World War Two that were distributed in the solders’s food rations.”
Teresa: “The business began floundering after the War, and my grandfather Charles took it over. He made it into a chocolate and cookie company. He also had three daughters: Clarissa, the oldest, who we’re going to visit now; Dora Clara, the middle child; and Sarah Lenora, who eloped with an Army Officer that served in combat in Viet Nam.”
“Your parents.” Todd said.
“The same ones.” Teresa said, then continued: “Dora Clara married a man named Edward Bessemer, who had started a cookie company. He not only married my aunt, he merged his company with my grandfather’s, and together they created Bessemer cookies, which are still very popular today. Unfortunately, Edward died in a workplace accident. Legend has it that he slipped off a catwalk into a huge vat of flour, and suffocated before they could dig him out.”
“Ouch.” lamented Todd. “Horrible way to go.”
“Yes.” said Teresa. “With Edward dead, and Charles Belvedere not having any male sons, and having sons-in-law he either didn’t know or didn’t like, he sold his company to what is now BigAgraFoods for about $250 million in today’s money. Upon his death, the money was divided equally into three trusts for each of his daughters, amounting to about $75 million each.”
Teresa: “You know that Sarah had disappeared, so her share was untouched, and by the time we learned that I was the heir to it, it was worth over $120 million, of which I put $100 million in trust for the Hospital, and the remainder in trusts for the boys.” (Author’s note: ‘Centuries’, Ch. 03.) Todd nodded.
Teresa went on: “Clarissa, the oldest child, inherited the family home, which we’re headed to now. I understand that it’s a very stately old plantation home from a long-bygone era. She married a man named Esterson, and has two children: Colin Esterson, and Jen Esterson Sakai. Jen married and subsequently divorced a Japanese man.”
“I’ve heard the name ‘Colin Esterson’ before.” said Todd. “Not sure where, though. Anyhoo, sorry to interrupt; keep going.”
Teresa kept going: “Dora Clara died of cancer, leaving behind two daughters. The older daughter, Tessa, had two girls at a young age, and they are now teenagers. Tessa and her husband died in a plane or car crash, I’m not sure which. The younger daughter, also named Clara, is married to a Republican Louisiana State Senator, and they have no kids.”
Teresa finished up: “We’ll meet Aunt Clarissa and her kids, for sure. I’m not sure if the others are going to be there, or if they will join us over the weekend. I’m sure they’ll inundate me with a lot of family history, and they will want to hear mine, so I hope you won’t be bored. And I need not say that until we get to know them, we should not share too much about ourselves.”
“I agree.” said Todd. “Let’s not mention to this Jen Sakai that I speak Japanese at all, much less fluently, until Mariko-san and her family have a chance to check her husband out…”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Two old oak trees with gnarly trunks stood in front as sentinels. The old home was raised on piles of brick, cement, and wood columns, allowing flood waters to flow underneath, and there were two floors of living space. Porches wrapped around both floors, making the house look bigger than it was.
“Just about what I imagined.” said Teresa as they parked in front and got out of the car.
“What did you think would be different?” asked Todd.
“I dunno, I guess I expected moss to be hanging from the trees and the house.” Teresa said. “And I guess I thought it would look swampier than it does.”
They went to the front door and Teresa rang the doorbell. It was answered by a tall older man in semi-formal attire. ‘Ye-ezzz?’ he intoned.
“Hi, I’m Teresa Croyle and this is my husband Todd.” Teresa said. “We’re expected.”
“Yezzz. Please come in.” said the butler. He led them through the hallway and to a sunlit room in the left rear of the house, and announced “Mr. and Mrs. Croyle, by appointment, madam.”
“Thank you, Charles.” said a woman past middle age but not all that elderly-looking. “Some lemonade for our guests.” she said as she got up out of her chair in the far corner of the room. In the face, she looked a lot like what Teresa might look like in her older age, and one could see they were related. She had once had an hourglass figure like Teresa’a, but she had put on weight, especially around her hips, derriere, and thighs.
She came up to Teresa and Todd, using a cane to assist her in walking. “Ah, Teresa.” she said, taking Teresa’s hand. “It is so good to finally meet you. You are even lovelier than your photos. And… oh my, what a handsome young man you are! I’m Clarissa Belvedere Esterson.”
“I’m Todd Burke, Teresa’s husband.” said Todd, giving the older woman his most winning smile as he took her hand in a formal ‘old school’ handshake.
“Please, come in. Do sit down.” Clarissa. “And dispensing with formalities, do call me ‘Aunt Clarissa’, if you like.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” said Teresa, following the woman into the room, and sitting on the sofa next to the corner chair into which Clarissa plopped down.
“You had a pleasant flight down?” she asked.
“Yes ma’am.” said Teresa. “I did want to ask you… you didn’t send anyone to pick us up at the airport, did you?’
“Why no.” said Clarissa, looking surprised. “You said in your email that your husband had arranged all of your transportation.”
“He did.” Teresa said. “I just asked because someone had a sign with the name ‘Burke’ on it. It was probably for someone else with the name ‘Burke’.”
“Likely.” said Clarissa. The butler brought three lemonades. “Please try our lemonade. I hope it’s not too sweet.”
Teresa tried it. “Mmm, it’s just right. Very good.” she said truthfully.
“We have ‘medicinal’ things you can mix with your lemonade, if you like.” said Clarissa. “Charles makes an excellent mint julep, as well.”
“This is wonderful, just like this.” Teresa said, sipping some more of her lemonade.
“The rest of the family will be arriving this afternoon, to meet you.” said Clarissa. “And we’ll be having dinner. We haven’t had a really big family dinner here in quite some time, and I for one am delighted to be adding a newfound member.”
Clarissa rang a little bell, then said: “I am sure you have many questions about us, as I have for you, but I am sure you’re tired from your trip and want to get some rest. Charles, would you please show Teresa and Todd up to their room and fetch their luggage for them?”
“I’ve already taken the liberty of taking their luggage to their room, ma’am.” said Charles. “If you will please follow me.” They followed the butler upstairs to their room. It was not large, but comfortable enough, and ornately decorated. The window faced the backyard, and the view was spectacular as Teresa looked out.
“Oh wow, you can see water back there.” Teresa said. “We must be closer to the swamps than it looks from the front.”
“Yes, it’s neat.” Todd said. Then he noticed Teresa going around the room, using her ink-pen bug detector as they talked. The room was not bugged, she finally determined.
“What did you think of your aunt?” Todd asked.
“She seems to be very nice, in that old-school matriarch-of-the-manor Southern style.” said Teresa. “But she seemed… a little nervous. What did you think?”
“The nerves may have been meeting a relative that she never knew she had, for the first time.” said Todd. “You were a little nervous, too.”
“Yeah.” Teresa said. “I’m not really tired, but I could definitely use a shower. Care to join me?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” said Todd with his mischievous grin…
Part 4 – Working The Case
2:00pm, Thursday, July 2nd. FBI Special Agent Tim Jenkins and DEA Special Agent Juan Morales had been flown up in an FBI plane, and were now having a late lunch with Jack Muscone, me, Cindy Ross, and Dwight Stevens in the ‘Command Room’ at the Cop Bar.
“Yeah, I feel good.” said Tim Jenkins when asked. “I’m still taking it easy, though. Right now I’d come in third in a race with this pregnant lady.” We all laughed at that.
As we finished our lunches, Dwight Stevens said “I talked with our DEA Special Agent In Charge, Rutherford Lyndon. He says that since Project CHICAGO SPICE is being shut down, he’s okay with anyone in the TCPD that already has a security clearance working on it with us. My question is: what exactly is it you want to do, Don?”
“A couple of things.” I replied. “We never got a firm grip on where Jacquez Wilson was getting his supply of product from. I’d like to establish that pipeline, maybe shut it down from the source end, but definitely keep anyone else from tapping into it and bringing drugs into my County.”
Your Iron Crowbar: “And second… I’ve got my hackles up a little bit about those big drug shipments being found in St. Louis and Kansas City. And so I want to help you start peeking into some things, to find out where the perps got those supplies.”
“You’ve got a suspicion about something?” asked Jack Muscone.
I said “I’ll put it this way: when the TCPD is done with drugs that are in evidence, we take them under at least two-man control to the facility at the State Crime Lab, and they incinerate the stuff. They also use two-man control, and we get official notification back that the materials are destroyed.”
I continued: “Most other Police Departments do the same thing, or similar. But there was a situation in Chicago where some enterprising Officers sent notification that the drugs submitted for destruction were indeed burned… and then those drugs ended up on the streets again. The Officers were selling the drugs to a major supplier and enhancing their retirement incomes very nicely.”
“So I’m not making accusations,” I said, “but my questions are: how does the DEA dispose of its no-longer-needed drugs stashes? Did Operation CHICAGO SPICE have quantities of L-sugar laced product still in a vault somewhere? And was that leftover product destroyed?”
“I don’t know, but I can check.” said Dwight Stevens.
“But do it quietly.” I said. “If perps stole those drugs and sold them in St. Louis and Kansas City, there was likely insider help, and you don’t want to tip them off.”
“That’s a good point.” Juan Morales said. “Commander, do you think that’s the case here? That some of our supply meant for the project was stolen and sold?”
I said “I need to eliminate it as a possibility. If that’s what happened, then there’s some mess and dirty people you can clean up. If not, then we move on with other ideas.”
“Don is so often right the first time,” said Jack Muscone, “that you DEA guys should really look into it.”
“Or you FBI guys can do it for us.” said Dwight Stevens. “It might be better if you do, rather than us investigating ourselves.” Jack nodded in agreement.
“And I have one other question.” I said. “DEA Agent Kevin Pitts. Good? Bad? Clean? Dirty?”
Juan Alberto Morales said “He’s a good Agent, as far as I know. Clean record. He’s had some good busts.”
Dwight Stevens said “I agree. No complaints about him that I know of. You can look him up on our database with your FBI account, if you like.”
“I do like, and I already have.” I said. “And yes, his record is good. But he’s also had a few set-ups that didn’t go perfectly. No big deal; nobody’s perfect, and drug deals don’t go down right nor smoothly, sometimes. But would it be unfair to say Pitts is… ‘ambitious’? That he has his eyes on citations on the wall? Maybe things to get noticed, leading to promotions?”
“In fairness, most Agents do.” said Dwight Stevens. “And I don’t say that as a negative. Some want to move up the ladder, while some don’t mind sitting back and serving their entire careers on the lowest rungs. Pitts? Yeah, he wants to move ahead, and with the added advantage of being black, he likely will get opportunities, and soon.”
“Opportunities with whom?” Cindy said quietly and cryptically at me. I just nodded in her direction; she’d realized what my ‘citations on the wall’ comment truly referred to…
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
3:30pm, Thursday, July 2nd. Captain Tanya P. Muscone came to my office. “I’ve asked Jerome Davis and Joanne Warner to work on it with Penny Scott, who had a clearance in the Military that we reconstituted for her. It’ll give Jerome something to do, to take his mind off Inga for a while.”
“Good.” I said. “They’re Federal Consultants, so the DEA won’t have an issue with them. But let me ask you this: how is Jerome? Really?”
“He’s okay. Really.” Tanya said reassuringly. “When he’s at work, his head is in the game.”
I nodded. “Good. But I still may have him talk to Laura.”
“Why?” asked Tanya. “I mean… you think there’s a problem with Jerome?”
I said “I’m concerned about him spending literally every moment of his free time at the Hospital, when he can’t do anything for Inga, and they won’t bring her out of her induced coma without letting us know first. If and when Inga recovers, it’s going to be long and hard for her… mentally, as well as physically.”
“And she’ll need his support.” said Tanya.
“True.” I said. “And that’s why I don’t want Jerome exhausting himself now, and not be fully there when the time comes that she needs him the most.”
Tanya said “I get that… but I think there’s something more going on in that red head of yours about it. So spill it.”
“You Angels know me too well, at times.” I said. “But yes, I’m also worried that… well, when Inga wake up, she may not remember what happened to her… or she may remember every bit of it. Cindy doesn’t remember anything, but Jenna Stiles does. She’s been tough, and she puts on a good outward appearance, but she still has nightmares about what happened to her, and she still talks to the psychologists.”
I continued: “The bottom line is that Jerome needs to continue living his life, because he may find that things between him and Inga will have changed, permanently and for the worse for their relationship.”
Tanya nodded. “I’m not trying to shirk my own duty, but I’m going to leave that up to you. So… what do you want my guys to concentrate on in this sugar drug case?”
I said “The State Crime Labs here and in Southport are running all the drug samples that they, we, and the Southport PD have in evidence, for L-sugars. Make that Penny Scott’s priority. I want Joanne Warner working with Tim Jenkins on those St. Louis and Kansas City busts. And Jerome can supervise both of them, and look for any crossover correlations.”
Tanya said “You think Tim will work better with Joanne than Callie Carrington?” I saw the wicked gleam in her eye, and a red crowbar was waved in her general direction.
“I’m sure it will be fine… as long as Tim does not try to steal Joanne’s dog Leo.” I replied…
Part 5 – On The Bayou
“Jambalaya and a crawfish pie and fillet gumbo
Cause tonight I’m gonna see my ma cher amio
Pick guitar, fill fruit jar, and be gay-o
Son of a gun, we’ll have big fun on the bayou.”
—- Hank Williams, Sr., ‘Jambalaya (On The Bayou)’
Todd and Teresa dressed nicely for dinner; Todd in a suit and tie that was cooler than the suit he’d worn on the trip, and Teresa in her clingy, shimmering green dress and beige high heel sandals that made her legs look like Todd’s net worth.
At 4:30pm, they’d gone downstairs, and found that Clarissa’s great-nieces, Beatrice and Eugenia Windham, had arrived home from their Prep School. The teen girls’s eyes lit up upon seeing Todd as he was introduced to them.
“My aunt on my father’s side was named Beatrice.” said Teresa. “She took care of me after my father… was unable to. So that’s a name I like.”
“Oh, cool! And it’s great having a new cousin.” Beatrice said to Teresa, though still glancing over at Todd a lot.
“And we need some new relatives around here.” said Eugenia, also looking at Todd flirtatiously. “Except for Grandma Clarissa, the old ones are boring, and full of themselves.”
“You two need to go up to your room and get ready for dinner.” said Clarissa. “It’s semi-formal, for our guests. Run along now.”
As the girls went up, Clarissa said “Beatrice is 16, and Genia is 14 now. Their mother Tessa was my sister Dora’s older daughter. Tessa and her husband Weston Windham died in a plane crash four years ago, and I took guardianship of them. They’re good girls, and I’ve tried to avoid the mistakes I made raising my children Colin and Jen by not spoiling Beatrice and Genia.”
“Windham.” said Teresa. “I used to know someone named Easton Windham. Did Weston Windham have a relative named Easton?”
“Not that I recall.” said Clarissa, seeming to think about it. “But I never really got to know him that well, nor my niece Tessa, for that matter.” Teresa nodded silently, not revealing that ‘Easton Windham’ was the name of her first husband… (Author’s note: ‘Teresa’s Christmas Story’.)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
At 5:30pm local time, more family arrived, and Clarissa introduced them: “This is my son, Colin Esterson, and his wife Wendy.”
Colin was 5’8″ tall, slender, with raven-black hair that had a natural wave to it. He also had what looked like a perma-sneer on his face, as if he believed he was better than everyone else and always wanted to be showing it. He was wearing a suit and tie that fit him fairly well. Wendy was dark haired and tall for a woman, almost as tall as her husband, and very thin… ‘willowy’ was the word that came to Teresa’s mind. She was wearing a blue blouse, flower-print skirt that went down to her ankles, and a matching light jacket.
“Nice to meet you.” Colin said politely, his voice sounding nasally and condescending, as he shook hands with Todd and Teresa. Teresa noticed his grip was weak. Todd had his charming smile etched on his face, but Teresa knew her husband well enough to know that he did not think much of Teresa’s cousin Colin.
Just a moment later, another woman came in. She had dark red hair, a decently shaped body, though not as fine nor as fit as Teresa’s, and her face looked like a cross between Colin and Clarissa’s.
“I’m Jen, Jen Sakai.” she said, introducing herself. “I’m Colin’s sister.”
“Nice to meet you.” Teresa said. “I’m Teresa, and this is my husband Todd.” As Jen shook Todd’s hand, Teresa made the observation that Jen had looked her over more than looking Todd over. I’ll bet she’s a lesbian, Teresa thought to herself.
Charles the Butler made and served adult beverages, and just as everyone sat down and chatted, there was another arrival. A dark-haired man strode in with a woman that bore a strong resemblance to Teresa, and also Clarissa.
“This is my niece, Clara Bessemer Edwards, Dora Clara’s younger daughter.” Clarissa said. “And her husband, State Senator Robert Edwards.”
“Call me ‘Bobby’, please. Very nice to meet you.” said Edwards, with the manners and voice of a practiced politician. He was beginning to get portly, and had a face full of life under his dark brown hair. Clara shared Teresa’s dirty blonde/light brown hair in both color and style, and her body was a shapely hourglass figure like Teresa’s, though only because she exercised hard to keep it that way.
“Yes, it is so nice to finally meet you, ma cousine.” said Clara. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Just the good things, I hope.” said Teresa. “I must confess that I know very little about any of you, and I hope to remedy that with our visit.”
“I thought you were going to be delayed in your arrival, Bobby.” said Colin Esterson, and his voice connoted that he’d have been happier if Sen. Edwards had indeed been delayed.
“I was able to get away early.” said Edwards with studied politeness and a false joviality that did not fool Teresa (who was used to Rudistan). “I didn’t want our new family members to be subjected to stories that might unduly influence them.”
“But Cousin Teresa is a cop, Uncle Bobby.” said Beatrice. “It’ll be hard to unduly influence her!” Everyone laughed politely. Teresa wondered if Beatrice was just ‘stirring the pot’ with that comment, as Beatrice’s eyes glinted like Tanya Muscone’s did whenever Tanya was stirring up trouble…
As everyone sipped their pre-dinner drinks, with Clarissa and Teresa having Scotch on the rocks, Todd having bourbon and water, and everyone else having more exotic mixed drinks, Teresa asked Jen “Your surname is Sakai? Japanese?”
“Oh, yes.” said Jen, seemingly taken aback for a split instant. “I’m divorced now, but my husband is Japanese. We lived in Houston, and we split up after he wanted to return to Japan and I wanted to stay here in the United States. I moved back home shortly afterwards.”
“Ah.” said Teresa. “Did you visit Japan?”
“Yes, I went with my husband on business trips there.” said Jen. “Tokyo is a bit too big for my tastes, though. I always felt like it was… crushing me, you know what I mean?”
“I think so.” said Teresa. “I’d love to visit Japan, maybe the country outside of Tokyo. Like Mount Fuji.”
“Yes, you can see Fujisan from Tokyo, on a clear day.” Jen said. “But outside Tokyo, you really have to know your Japanese to get around, if you’re not part of a tour group. And those are very limited in the places they go.”
Just then, Clara Edwards came up to Teresa, all but interrupting the conversation with Jen. “So my niece Beatrice said your aunt was named Beatrice?”
“Yes.” Teresa said. “And it’s funny… I always thought she was my mother’s sister, at least that’s what she told me. But she wasn’t… she was my father’s sister. I knew she and my father didn’t like each other, but I never understood why she told me that fib.”
“Yes,” said Clara, “families, especially families like ours, families with old money and history… they can have some deep, dark stories. But I’m glad to get to meet you, the cousin I never knew I had.”
Meanwhile, Robert Edwards was talking to Todd. “So you’re the CEO of BOW Enterprises.” Robert said. Todd managed to keep the surprise off his face; neither he nor Teresa had told anyone that fact, nor his last name before they arrived.
Robert went on: “Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you, and your exciting new technology company. We should talk before you go home. Louisiana is a great place for dynamic new companies like yours. Maybe if you’re planning to start a new branch or factory, you’ll consider us.”
“I just expanded,” said Todd, “so I’m not quite ready to expand again. But when the time comes, I’ll check things out down here. I guess I’ll have to learn French, though.”
“Ah, you can get by without it.” said Edwards. “I think Aunt Clarissa is the only one here who speaks French fluently.”
“Is Republican Senator Edwards trying to goad you into building another air-polluting plant here?” said a voice. It was Colin Esterson, coming up to them with his wife Wendy. He was keeping his face fairly passive, though the perma-sneer never left. By way of contrast, Wendy’s face betrayed her hatred for Edwards.
“You mean new business and job opportunities for the People of Louisiana, don’t you Colin?” Edwards fired back, pretending a joviality he clearly did not feel.
“My company won a national Conservation award this past year,” Todd said politely, “and we clean up as we go. And what do you do, Mr. Esterson?”
“I am a Founding Member and the Operations Officer of the Global Climate Change Trust,” said Colin Esterson importantly, “an organization dedicated to the global implementation of Climate Change rules set in place by the Kyoto Protocols. We are a brokerage of carbon credits both nationally and worldwide.”
“An organization dedicated to the redistribution of wealth into his own pockets via the inducement of guilt, a.k.a. shaming of free enterprises businesses.” replied Edwards, his voice mocking and goading.
“You know,” Todd said, the merest hint of mockery in his eyes behind his ‘business’ smile, “I’ve never understood how those carbon offsets work. How does me buying one actually reduce carbon emissions?”
“There’s a difference between ‘carbon credits’ and ‘carbon offsets’.” Esterson said, his voice becoming condescending, as if he were lecturing a pathetically dumb child. “And how carbon credits work, per the Kyoto protocols, is that polluting nations and businesses pay for the credits in recognition of their contribution to pollution and the destruction of the earth’s environment, and the money is used to help developing nations develop in ways that are responsible, and cognizant of the Environment.”
Todd said, his voice slightly more skeptical: “So a company can buy these carbon offsets, or credits, and go right on polluting. I’m just not sure I see how these carbon credits actually stop the pollution, nor actually reduce the carbon levels.”
“They don’t.” said Robert Edwards. “All it is, is a scheme for the redistribution of wealth from productive nations into the pockets of parasites… and their own pockets, of course.:” replied Edwards.
Wendy Esterson was staring daggers at Edwards. “Evil Capitalists are always making excuses for their destruction of the environment and consumption of the world’s resources.”
“And evil Socialists are always creating schemes like the fraud of Climate Change to redistribute wealth into their own pockets.” fired back Edwards with practiced smoothness.
“Ahem!” said a voice. Clarissa Belvedere Esterson came up and took Todd by the arm. “Dinner is ready. And we have one rule here: absolutely no discussion of politics at the dinner table.”
“An excellent rule.” Todd said as he allowed Clarissa to lead him away from the others…
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*CHIME!*
It was my personal iPhone, and an email came in as I was wrapping up the day’s business with Cindy Ross in my office.
“It’s an email from Teresa.” I said. The email read: “Uncle Don, we arrived safely and we’re at my aunt’s house. Todd asked me to ask you to do a check on Colin Esterson of the Global Climate Change Trust, and Louisiana State Senator Robert Edwards. And I’d like to ask you to run a check on Jen Esterson Sakai, and maybe her ex-husband. Have a good weekend, Love Teresa and Todd.”
After I read the text out loud, Cindy said “I know for a fact that Teresa ran checks on her family, so why does she want you to?”
I said “First, she may not have known some of their full names. Second, once she and Todd got down there, they may have gotten their hackles up over something. Todd’s related to us, and he has the Vibe to some extent. And I trust Teresa’s instincts completely. Ergooooo, it’s no big deal. I’ll see what I can find.” I turned to my computer and began typing, with a very curious Green Crowbar watching…
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Clarissa sat at the head of the table. Being a widow, she had no one sitting at the other end of the table, and so she had Teresa sitting at the other end, and Todd to her (Clarissa’s) immediate left. To Clarissa’s right was her son Colin Esterson, as heir apparent, and Wendy was to Colin’s right.
To Todd’s left was Clara Edwards, and Robert was to her left. Jen Sakai was down the table to Robert’s left, and Beatrice and Eugenia were down the table to Wendy’s right. They probably should have been on the other side, but Teresa had noticed Robert Edwards glancing at the teen girls in a rather inappropriate way, and subsequently observed that Beatrice and Eugenia stayed well away from him.
Dinner was a three-course French meal. “We will be having a Cajun dinner tomorrow night, as part of a tour we’ve arranged for you.” Clarissa said. “And on July 4th, you’ll be my guests at the Lake Charles picnic. Plenty of gumbo choices, crawfish, but also hamburgers and hotdogs. And a great fireworks show.”
“Sounds wonderful.” said Teresa.
“So how are Genia and I related to you?” Beatrice asked Teresa, who noticed a sight scowl on Clarissa’s face. Children are to be seen and not heard, the matriarch believed.
Nevertheless, Teresa answered: “My mother and your grandmother were sisters, so that makes you my second cousins, or ‘first cousins once removed’.”
“Why did you become a cop… er, a Police Officer?” asked Eugenia.
Teresa said “My sister Alexis was killed in a car crash one Christmas Eve, when she was 18 and I was 16. A policewoman helped me that night, and I after that I thought of becoming one myself. And it worked out.”
“I daresay.” said Robert Edwards. “Medal of Valor, Police Cross, six Purple Hearts for being wounded in the line of duty. Quite an impressive record.” Seeing her look at him, he said “Oh yes, we had you and your husband checked out, back when Aunt Clarissa was asked to donate a DNA sample to prove your family relationship. And I’m sure you had us checked out, as well.”
“Maybe not to that extent.” Teresa replied, politely but firmly. “But just to see who you all were.”
“When I heard that my sister Sarah’s heir had been found,” said Clarissa, “I was more than happy to help prove the blood kin relationship. It was a very pleasant surprise to finally learn about my sister Sarah and her family, and while I was saddened to hear of her passing, I am very glad to have her daughter here as my guest.”
“I was glad to learn the truth about my mother and her family, as well.” Teresa said.
“Which was the greater shock?” Colin Esterson asked, and rather rudely. “Learning that you had a family? Or that you were one of the richest heiresses in the world?”
“Colin!” Clarissa said sharply, a scowl on her face. “That is very inappropriate.”
“It’s okay, ma’am.” said Teresa, affixing her eyes on Colin, letting him know without speaking that she was most very aware that he’d done that as a probe of her. “And to answer the question: I was surprised by both, but not shocked.”
“All that money did not shock you?” said Wendy Esterson skeptically.
“No. It was a surprise, and a pleasant one.” Teresa said. “It allowed me to fulfill a dream of mine, and fund University Hospital to research rare diseases.”
“You gave them a nice endowment, then.” said Robert Edwards.
“Indeed.” Teresa said. “I gave them all of it.” She was strangely inwardly pleased to hear the gasps at the table.
“You gave it away? All of it?” Colin Esterson gasped.
“I did set up trusts for Todd’s boys, whom I adopted when we were married.” Teresa replied. “But yes, I put most of it in charitable trusts for the Hospital.”
“That was… truly generous.” Jen Sakai said, her voice sounding stunned, and not pleasantly so.
“You gave it to a hospital?” Wendy Esterson said. “To rich doctors?”
“Just imagine what that money could’ve done to help the Environment, and combat Climate Change.” said Colin Esterson. His mother Clarissa looked at him most disapprovingly.
Teresa said politely but firmly “You have your causes, and I have mine. I’ve watched too many young children die of cancer and other rare diseases that have no cure, and I had cancer myself. So I was happy to provide an endowment that will go to funding research for cures.”
“That is a very noble cause.” said Clarissa firmly, her eyes sweeping around the table to make sure no one dared to say anything to the contrary.
“You had cancer?” Beatrice said. “Our grandmother died of cancer.”
“Yes, I heard.” said Teresa. “I had ovarian cancer, but it was caught in the very early stages… when I was shot in the hip.” (Author’s note: ‘Teresa’s Christmas Ordeal’, Ch. 02.)
“Leading to one of those six Purple Orders.” Todd said. Beatrice and Eugenia’s eyes had widened at that, and they wanted to hear more.
“Not at the dinner table, young ladies.” chided Clarissa. “Yes, cancer has been the bane of many in this family. I’m glad you were able to overcome it, Teresa.”
“I have one question for you.” said Jen Sakai. “Is it true that your boss is the Iron Crowbar?”
Teresa smiled, what was a smile for her, and said “Yes it is.” Beatrice and Eugenia’ eyes widened again.
“And he’s Todd’s uncle as well, is he not?” asked Clara Edwards.
“Yes, he’s my mother’s brother.” said Todd. “You guys really did check up on us.”
Jen Sakai said “I happened to hear about it from news reports, and other places.”
“Wow, the Iron Crowbar!” exclaimed Beatrice. “Is he really ten feet tall?” Todd burst out laughing at that, and Teresa looked up, a little bit stunned, remembering the words Amy had asked her when they first met at the Saskia Warehouse. (Author’s note: ‘Teresa’s Christmas Story Redux’.)
Teresa said “You know, you are not the first person that has asked me that. And no, Commander Troy is not ten feet tall… but he may seem to be that way to the criminals that dare to oppose him.”
“What’s he like?” asked Eugenia. “Is he like The Batman?” Todd laughed heartily again.
Teresa said “Well, he did major in Chemistry like Bruce Wayne did in the comics. And he solves mysteries even better than Batman does. And he’s probably just as scary to the bad guys. But to us, he’s just a big ol’ teddy bear.”
Todd whimpered yet another laugh. “I’m sorry, everyone.” he said. “If you knew Uncle Don, you’d know why I’m laughing.”
“Perhaps we can all meet the Iron Crowbar one day.” said Clarissa, glancing across the table at Teresa, who just slightly nodded back.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
There was a knock on my door, which opened to reveal Cindy Ross. Terry Halston of Intel came in after her.
“There’s something I thought I should show you, sir, ma’am.” said Halston. He expertly used the remote to bring up internal Police Channel 2 on the monitor. The DVR playback showed the national Fox Cable news.
“And that will do it for the Panel.” said the host. “Finally tonight, from our Fox affiliate in Dallas.” A video played, taken by someone at DFW Airport with their smartphone. A woman was singing, and we recognized her immediately as Teresa. The video showed the Flag-draped coffin being taken off the airplane by a military Honor Guard, then panned to show everyone standing respectfully. Then everyone could be heard singing the chorus as the hearse was loaded and then drove away.
The Fox host said “The woman that began the singing was identified as Commander Teresa Croyle of the Town & County Police Department. The deceased soldier was identified as Sergeant Benjamin E. Myers of the 75th Ranger Regiment, who was killed in Afghanistan as he covered his soldiers’s retreat when they were ambushed. He was being returned to The City for burial. An Army spokesperson informed Fox News that Sergeant Myers will be posthumously awarded the Silver Star for his heroism…”
“Wow.” I said when it was over. “Thanks for showing us that.” We talked with Halston about it for a minute, then he was excused and left the office.
Cindy said “Did you find out any more about Teresa’s family members?”
“Yes.” I said. “And some ‘strangenesses’ may be coming out. I’ve sent a message to Takaki Nagamasa, asking about Jen Esterson Sakai’s Japanese husband, Hideo Sakai. And Interpol has some very interesting things to say about Colin and Wendy Esterson. I sent Todd an email…”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
After the sun set, the temperatures dropped considerably, so Clarissa had everyone go out to the large patio behind the house. Tiki torches were lighted around the enclosed, well-manicured back yard, which was also lit by spotlights from the corners of the house high above them. Electric bug zappers helped the torches repel bugs, and occasionally one heard the *ZZZT!* of a flying insect crisply meeting its destiny.
The butler Charles brought a box of fine cigars around. Robert Edwards took one, but Todd declined. “They’re Dominican, some of the finest in the world that we can legally import into the United States.” Robert said.
“Thanks, but I don’t smoke.” said Todd.
“I’ll try one.” said Teresa, who had no problem smoking a cigar to go along with her Scotch, neat. She took one from the box and sniffed it, per custom. “Mmm, nice. Jen, would you like one?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” said Jen Sakai. As Charles moved along, Jen quietly said “I like cigars, but Mother frowns on me having them. Thanks for giving me the cover.”
“My pleasure. I thought you might like one.” said Teresa. She puffed on her cigar, finding it to be mild and of excellent taste. “Mmm, these are good.” she said.
She heard Todd’s cellphone chime, and saw him look over at her as he read it. “Excuse me a second.” she said to Jen, and went over to Todd, who’d walked into the yard to give himself some space as he read the email. “Everything okay?” she asked her husband.
“Yes.” said Todd loudly, keeping his back to the others. Then he said quietly, barely moving his mouth, “Like I said before: don’t tell Jen Sakai about our Japanese connections, nor that I speak Japanese fluently.”
“Sure, but why?” Teresa asked.
“We’ll talk later, but here’s the email I got from Mariko-san.” Todd said. He handed Teresa his cell, and she read the email, which said: “Beware Jen Sakai. Her former husband Sakai Hideo is a spy for the Red Chinese.”
“O-kayyy.” Teresa said quietly. “I’ll confine our conversation to cigars, then.” They returned to the group.
“Everything okay?” asked Clara Edwards as they came up to her and Robert.
“Fine.” said Todd with his winning smile. “I was just checking in on the kids. They’re staying with my uncle while we’re here…”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Young ladies,” said Clarissa Belvedere Esterson as she came up to Beatrice and Eugenia talking with Teresa, “it’s getting towards your bedtimes.”
“Aw, Grandma Clarissa,” said Beatrice, “tomorrow’s not a school day; we’re out for the July 4th holiday.”
“Even so,” said Clarissa, “it’s been a long day, and young ladies need their rest. Off to bed with you.” The girls sadly said goodnight to everyone, and went inside the house.
“I must apologize for the girls bothering you.” said Clarissa to Teresa as she sat down on the wicker sofa next to Teresa. “Children should be seen and not heard.”
“Please don’t apologize.” said Teresa. “They’re a joy to talk with. And very smart, too, if I don’t miss my guess.”
“Yes, they are.” said Clarissa. “Beatrice wants to go to Tulane, and she knows she has to get the grades to be admitted there, so she studies. Eugenia is naturally very smart, but her goal… and that may be too strong a term… is to go to LSU and find a good husband.”
“Their parents’s deaths must’ve been hard on them.” Teresa said. “I’m glad they had you to take them in.”
“Yes, and that is its own story.” said Clarissa. “Their mother Tessa essentially eloped… like your mother did, but we’ll talk about that tomorrow. Tessa and Clara did not get along well growing up. When Tessa and her husband were killed four years ago in that plane crash, Clara would not bring the girls into her home, even though she and Robert are childless. That’s not a complaint, as I love the girls and they’ve become the center of my life. So… you adopted your husband’s boys?”
“Yes.” said Teresa. “Todd sowed a few wild oats in his younger days, but he took responsibility for his kids, and he’s a good father. He was married before, but his wife died. And one of the kids is actually his brother’s son, and after his brother died Todd took him in, too. Little Jack can be a brat, but he says he’s going to be President of the United States one day. At least he has a goal.”
“Heh heh. Ye-es.” said Clarissa. “Well, my dear, they’re waiting for me to go to bed, so they can leave and go up when they wish. Feel free to stay up as long as you like . But don’t go outside the fenced-in yard areas, back or front. There are dangerous creatures out there… and not all of them are animals, but human. We have good security here, as I’m sure your experienced eye has noticed, but outside the grounds they can’t help you.”
“Yes ma’am.” said Teresa, getting up as Clarissa did. She had indeed noticed the fences, the videocameras in various places, and realized the enclosed space in the unattached garage was very likely the security room that controlled it. She also noticed that Charles was armed and probably part of that security.
Everyone said goodnight to Clarissa, then Teresa said to Todd that as the guests, they should go inside, as well. They did so, and the others followed in short order.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Soooo… what do you think of your new family?” Todd asked Teresa as she again swept the room for bugs, finding none.
“They’re… very interesting.” Teresa said. “Don and your grandmother would have had a field day making observations and deductions about them.”
“We don’t need to be the Iron Crowbar to make a few deductions of our own.” Todd said. “For example, you didn’t tell them my name, but they knew it, or at least Robert Edwards did. So while your aunt denied having sent a car to pick us up at the airport, it doesn’t mean one wasn’t sent for us.”
“I’d agree with that,” Teresa said, “except that someone did respond to the placard. But you’re right… they knew a lot about us. They even knew who my boss was, and that he’s your uncle.”
“Harumph.” Todd snorted. “My mother says that the whole world knows who the Iron Crowbar is. If they were researching us in a way I think they’re capable of, his name would come up quickly.”
“True.” said Teresa as she looked out the window over the backyard, then stepped out onto the balcony. The lights had been turned off, and Teresa could see droplets of light in the distance. The moonlight was strong, and she could make out the slight differences between the water and the land.
Coming back inside, she said quietly “I feel like I’m in one of those movies on the Hallmark Mysteries Channel. All the family tension, and then a dead body shows up.”
“Well, I sure hope not.” said Todd. “But if there was, whose dead body would it be? There’s no love lost between Robert Edwards and the Estersons, Colin and Wendy. And I don’t think it’s just their political differences.”
Teresa said “There’s also a problem between the Edwards and the kids, Beatrice and Eugenia Windham. Particularly Robert. If I had a daughter and he looked at her the way he looks at them, I’d be borrowing Don’s crowbar for a minute, and making good use of it.”
Todd said “What about Jen Sakai?”
Teresa said “I noticed something very strange about her. When she introduced herself, she did so as Colin’s sister, not as Clarissa’s daughter. And Aunt Clarissa, ever the stickler for form and decorum, did not introduce Jen to us at all, though she introduced Colin and Wendy. And then there’s that email that Mariko sent you. Did you hear back from Uncle Don yet?”
“I just did, and I’m reading it now.” Todd said as he read the email on his smartphone. “He says he’s checking into some things and hopes to hear something overnight, and that Nagamasa or Mariko might email me about Jen Sakai and her husband. He says to be guarded in conversations with Colin and Wendy Esterson, as well.”
“Okay, then.” Teresa replied. “Why don’t you get ready for bed, while I finish this Scotch on the balcony.”
“I’m surprised you’re not looped, what with the Scotch and the cigar you had earlier.” Todd teased with a bright smile.
“I can smoke and drink your sweet ass under the table, and you know it.” Teresa said, giving it right back. She went onto the balcony, hearing the night sounds of the bayou, especially the frogs. She was a bit surprised how loud the sounds of the night were.
And then she heard a voice. It was from Jen Sakai’s room, next to hers, to her right as she looked out the backyard. She turned and went in, putting one finger over her mouth in a ‘hush’ sign, and the other hand beckoning Todd to come over. When he did not move quickly, she waved him over more urgently.
“Listen.” she said into his ear as she led him onto the balcony. Todd listened, and nodded in acknowledgement of what Teresa had wanted him to hear: Jen Sakai was talking to someone in Japanese!”
“Hai.” Jen said, and I’ll translate the rest to English: “Yes, the CEO of BOW Enterprises. He is here, at my mother’s house! Yes, he would have immense knowledge of his company’s technologies. Yes, he would know a lot about the Mutanix… or the company would give you that knowledge in exchange for him if he were a hostage!…”
When it was apparent Jen had disconnected her call, Todd and Teresa went into their room and closed the doors to the balcony. “Did you understand any of that?” Todd asked.
Teresa said “Mariko has taught me some basic phrases, but that was too fast for me. I did catch some words like your name, ‘BOW Enterprises’, and ‘Mutanix’.”
Todd told Teresa what he’d heard, and Teresa said “Should we go back home? You’ll be much safer there.”
Todd thought about it, then said “Let’s stay. You’re just getting to know your family.”
“One of whom may be arranging your kidnapping.” Teresa replied.
Todd grinned. “Now I know how Uncle Don feels about walking right into traps. If Jen is that bad, we need to bust her and her criminal confederates. I’ll contact some people, get some support down here. One thing you can do is ask your Aunt Clarissa about what she does for security… for her, for this place, for the teenage girls.”
“All right.” said Teresa. “But don’t let the dead body in our Mystery Channel movie be yours…”
To be continued.