The Diapered Detective.

[Bluebird67]

I can see why the police don’t like having a PI nosing around. If either of the Fries is involved, they get to learn in advance what tracks they need to cover; also, any witness she gets to first has a chance to get their story straight before the police interview them.
But if the police don’t put in the resources, how are the victims’ loved ones going to get justice?

Great story!

[willnotwill]

Twenty minutes later, Sue was pulling into the northern district parking lot.    She went in and asked for Childress at the desk.   She didn’t know the desk sergeant and he obviously didn’t know her.   He didn’t buzz her in but picked up the phone to call the detective.    After a brief exchange, he pushed the button and the door buzzed.   “Go on back,” he said.

Sue felt a slight bit of nostalgia for the days when she was part of this operation.    However, she decided that she really did need to keep in better touch with her old colleagues and keep her well know to the newer members of the force as well.   It could only help.

Ronnie greeted her as she headed down the hall and pointed her to the conference room.    He slid a multipage document to her.    “You want coffee while you read through that?”

“Great,” Sue said.

She started reading.    It was as accurate of a transcription as she could tell.    There wasn’t anything she cared to add.    About halfway through Ronnie returned with the coffee.   She finished while he sipped his coffee without conversation.    She signed the document and slid it back to him.

“Murph making any progress?” she asked.

“Haven’t heard yet.    FBI kicked back a model match on the paint and plastic fragments.   2008 Chevy Impala.   Mocha Bronze Metallic.    Lens fragments are from the front right headlamp assembly.”

“That was quick.   Murph running with that?”

“The usual.  Got a BOLO out to the body shops for anybody bringing in a car with that damage.    He’s got guys out canvassing the neighborhood to see if anybody saw it.”

“Let me guess:  nobody saw nothing.”

“Correct, so far.”

“You still working for Mrs. French?”   Ronnie asked.

“No, she pulled the plug after we left this morning.”  Sue felt a small pang of guilt for not disclosing that Fries had picked up the contract.

“Any word from the ME?”

“Not that I’ve heard, but they are backed up these days.   It could take a few more days until they even start the autopsy.”

Sue nodded.   It was always the same story.   Further, if this was categorized as an auto accident, it would not have priority.

“Well, keep me informed if you hear anything.  I’m still curious.   Thanks for the coffee.”

“Sure thing, Susie.   It’s been good to see you again.”

Susie got back in her truck and started the engine.   She didn’t pull out.   She wanted to get her next steps straight in her mind.    Some she could do this evening on the computer.   Others will require personal visits the next day.

She got back to the office and Holly was intensely typing away at the computer.    It was good to have someone who could do this work.   She got an idea.   “Hey, let’s order some pizza for us and your kids.”

Holly thought that this was a great idea.   She’d be able to keep working.    “Get one with just cheese for the kids.   They’re not into toppings yet.”   Sue picked up the phone and called the order in.   The store said it would be ready in twenty minutes.     The restaurant was diagonally down the block.   She’d hop over and retrieve it.

Sue went back and fired up her computer.    The first thing she did was pull up Google maps of the Wyman Park area.    She zoomed in so the various buildings became identified.    When she got the level of detail over the area she wanted she hit print.    She looked at her watch.   Pizza time.   She’d just got to the door when she was met by a man sporting a white apron carrying two pizza boxes.

“Ah, Miss Garrett.    For my special customers, I can deliver,” the man said.

“Thanks, Tony.   She traded him a few bills in exchange for the pizza and brought them inside and set them down on the coffee table in the waiting area.    Holly got up, “I’ll tell the kids the food is here.”   Sue picked up two slices of mushroom pizza and took them back to her office.

She went back through her phone and dug out the photos she took of French’s tax forms and the trust stuff.    She wrapped this up with an explanation and mailed it off to one D.H. Storrow, CPA.   DH was an old friend.    She had provided information on financial clues before.     If there was foul play, follow the money was going to be a key investigatory step.    Love and Money were always motives.

She fired off another email to Sam Chapman.   He also was an old friend.   They had worked together at the BPD.   If she was to say that she had a mentor, Sam would be it.   He had put in his years at the force and retired.   Now he was double dipping as the head of the Johns Hopkins University Campus Security.   She asked if she might have a moment of his time.    She’d follow this up with a phone call tomorrow.

She paused long enough to down both pieces of pizza.   Sue thought about her priorities now.   Meeting with Sam was first.   The rest would likely have to wait until a cause of death was given.    If it was just a tragic accident, albeit one that was covered up, then the next steps would be different than if it was a homicide.

Sue yawned.   It had been a long day, and she only had minimal sleep.   She told Holly she was going upstairs and left the office.

[Shotgun Diplomat]

Please, please tell me that you are going to introduce a character (minor) into this story who goes by Popeye or Doyle. That would really make the reference for "The French Connection" that I have had rattling around in my head for a while now. 

 

[willnotwill]

Sue woke up raring to go.    A quick pass through the bathroom to apply deodorant and brush her teeth was all she could stand.    She decided to diaper up today, it would be a long, and she hoped fruitful day running up billable hours.

She put on a dress.   Sam wouldn’t care, but if the trip to his office paid off, she might need some feminine charms later on.    She noted Holly was already at work at her desk.   She waved at Holly as she passed by.   She picked up the map she’d printed the previous evening and headed out to her truck.

It only took a few minutes to get up to 29^th st.    Hopkins campus security was no longer in Garland Hall, the administration building.    It had been squeezed out to a building off Remington Avenue, just a few blocks where she found French.   She hoped that this would pay off.

“Susie,” Sam called as she walked into the security bullpen.

“Hey, Sam.  How’s it hanging?”

“Can’t complain.  Can’t complain.    Big todo up the street two nights ago.   Glad it wasn’t one of my kids.”   Sam had fully grown into his position.   JHU students were now “his.”

“Don’t think so.    I was the one who found the body.   That’s why I’m here.   I think you might be able to help with this case.”   Sam perked up at the request for help.

“You’re not a cop anymore, Suze.”

“No, but I’m working for a private client on the matter.   Take a look at this.”

She showed him the map.  She’d made an X where she had found the body and drew an arrow where she suspected the car jumped the curb and knocked French over the railing.   She explained how French regularly ran down the trail and then back through the campus.

“I believe I’ve seen him,” Sam said, giving a brief description of French from memory.

“Yes, that sounds like him.   We’re placing the incident some time early Saturday a week.”

“And you’re hoping we have video?    It’s sort of a needle in the haystack.”

“NAP-EFF kicked back a 2008 Impala, Mocha Bronze.”  She pronounced the abbreviation for the National Automotive Paint File without needing to explain it to Sam.

Sam went and dug through a binder and came up with another map.    “We’ve got cameras here, here, and here that might work.”   He tapped black squares on the map.   He wrote down the numbers.   He went up to a man working at a computer.   “Benny, grab me the files for these cameras, a week ago Saturday, midnight to what eight AM?” Sam looked at Sue for confirmation.  Sue nodded.

“Take me a few minutes,” Benny replied.

“Let’s go get coffee,” Sam said.

Sam and Benny walked over to the main campus.    “So how’s life as a PI treating you?”

“Not bad.    Work can be hard to come by at times, but I enjoy it when I get a case like this.   How’s college life treating you?”

“Good.   I like it here.   It gives me something to do and have a command again.   I missed that when I retired.”

The walked over to Levering hall and grabbed coffee.   They sat out on the quad and drank and reminisced.    “You’ll probably need another cup,” Sam said.   “It can take a while to go through all that stuff.”    Sue returned to the building and ordered a large coffee.   It’s a good thing I’ve got the diaper on today.

They returned to the security office, and Benny said the files were ready.   He pointed Sue to a spare computer.    He pointed at a file browser and clicked up the first file.  “Do you know how to use the software?” he asked.   Sue indicated she did.   “OK, if you see something you want a copy of, just note the file name and the time code.”

Sue sat down and started to watch.   There wasn’t much traffic, so she sped up the action four times until a car entered the scene.    She then slowed it down until she ascertained that it wasn’t a bronze Impala.    She knew that there wasn’t a camera pointed in a way that would show the actual hit and run, but she hoped she’d catch the car either coming or going from the scene.    She was about two-thirds of the way through the files marked for the first camera when she saw it.

She backed the video up and watched it again.    It was definitely an Impala coming down San Martin Drive.   She looked at her map.   This would be a camera sitting on the Bloomberg Astronomy building.    She noted the time and continued.     No sense jumping ahead.   The car might return.    The rest of the files went by without note.

The next set of files were taken from the Econ building.    It had a view of Remington. But at a distance.   Sue yawned as she watched a lot of nothing happening.    She drained the last of her coffee, which had grown cold.    She thought about going for another cup, but the wetness in her diaper reminded her that this might not be a good idea.   Then she saw it.    The car was coming south on Remington, away from the scene.   It looked right.   She paused the image and zoomed in on it.    The detail was lousy.    Was the right front fender dented?   She couldn’t tell.  She noted the time.

The last camera she realized was located on the building in which she was currently sitting.   It was looking down 30^th street at Remington.   She decided to skip ahead on this one to the point where she’d seen the car on the previous camera.    Sure enough, it passed through the intersection.    She could only see the left side of the car, but it might contribute something.

She took the note with the times and found Benny.   “Can you put the following time spans on a flash drive for me?”   She fished a drive out of her pocket.   She had hoped this might have netted something.

Benny told her to give him a minute.    She stood there while Benny worked away.   Sam came out.  “Find something?”

“I think so.   It’s pretty poor.”

“Yeah, we’re looking at the campus, not the rest of the neighborhood.”

“I’ll take it over to CS and see if they can do something with it.”

Benny handed her the drive, and Sue bid farewell to Sam and Benny.

It was a beautiful day so she left her truck and hiked over the few blocks to Malone Hall.   Jeremy was her next stop.   She walked into the building and took the stairs up to the second floor.   She walked down the hall until she found the door marked, “Dr. Jeremy Ryan.”   It was her lucky day, he was in.

She knocked on the door frame, and Jeremy looked up.   “Sue,” he cried.  “It’s great to see you.”  She came in and stood opposite him, letting him look her over.   After a second, she set the thumb drive down on the desk.

“I’ve got a favor to ask of you.”

He picked up the drive and pointed at a chair.   “What’s on here.”

“Some videos, from Sam Chapman’s security cameras.   I was hoping you could enhance it some.”

“What’s the target, and what do you need.”

“It’s a brown sedan.    Whatever you can give me would help.   A license plate would be golden.   So would a discernable picture of the driver.   Oh, and there might be some right front damage.”

“OK, I’ll take a look.   How long is the car in the scene.”

“On two of the clips, it’s there for several seconds.    On the last one, we just see it flashing through the intersection.”

“OK, I’ll get the autocorrelator on it and see if we can get something out of the noise.”  Sue had no idea what that meant, but Jeremy was a specialist in image analysis.    He was better than anybody in the BPD or even the state police.

“Thanks, I owe you one.”   Jeremy smiled like he was thinking about how to collect on that debt.

[willnotwill]

Sue returned to the office.   She was amped up over the video and hoped it led somewhere.    I popped into the outer office.    Holly was sitting there with her youngest on her lap, still digging away on the computer.

“Find anything?”

“Nothing that seems to be immediately of note.”    Holly picked up a pad.  “Haven’t learned anything new about Janice.   She shows up occasionally as arm candy on some man at a social event but doesn’t seem to have any relationships currently.     Fries is a bit of a bad boy.   He had a DUI arrest, but it got stetted out.    Appears to play the field a lot.    June seems quiet, haven’t found much on her yet.”

Sue nodded.   Maybe this would lead somewhere.   Maybe not.

“Cami, as I told you before, has family money.   She works for the company foundation pretty much, deciding who to give money away to.    She had been dating French for about six months as near as I could tell.   Longer than most stick with him.    She’s about the only female I’ve seen him with other than Janice.”

“I dug back, looking for ex-girlfriends.   There were two in the past two years that seemed to have been more than one-event stands.    Still digging on them.    The charity seems legit, they are researching how to improve land use from both a societal and ecological standpoint.   The couple in the video are the executive director and their development director, respectively.   They both came to the charity several years ago, and apparently, the relationship bloomed from that.”

“OK, keep it up.    I don’t know where it is going, but it all may be relevant.”

The phone rang.   Holly answered it.  “D.H. Storrow for you.”

“Put it on the speaker.” She paused while Holly punched a button and replaced the handset.   “Hey, D.H., how's it going?”

“Fine.   I got your email.    What did you need to know.”

“Overall impression.”

“Guy has serious money.   I wish I had him as a client.     He seems to be pulling in good money from First Properties.”

“Alas, he can’t use it where he is now.”

“I had a feeling I’d heard that name before when it came on the news earlier today.”

“What about the trust stuff?” Sue asked.

“Well, it’s sort of what it sounds.   The person creates it and puts assets in it.   They can take an income out of it, paying taxes on it, of course, but when some event happens, typically the death of the grantor, what remains goes to the charity.”

“What’s the advantage to the grantor?” Sue asked.

“A few things.   He can take the tax deduction now for the contribution.   The asset in the trust can be bought and sold without worrying about capital gains tax.    It also puts the assets out fo the reach of most creditors or judgments.”

“So French was giving a lot of stuff to charity.”

“Yes, if he followed through on the plan.    He has plenty of money, and the income from the trust would certainly guarantee him a lifestyle even if he put everything in it.    It looks like from that investment summary you sent me, he was going to put a substantial share into it.”

“So, what are the issues.”

“None that I can see on its face.   The problem I see is that this stuff is all dated very recently.   While the trust may have been created, I get the feeling the assets hadn’t been titled to it.”

“And that’s sort of like opening a bank account and not making any deposits, right?”

“Exactly.”

“I know he had an appointment with his personal lawyer scheduled for after he died.   I guess I could inquire with her.”

“Well, there is attorney-client privilege after death, but there may be some things that can help you.   One is that the charity itself might be privy to the information.   They don’t have privilege, but of course, as a private citizen, they’re not obliged to give you the time of day.”

“Sounds iffy,” Sue said.

“The other thing is that if probate is opened, all these details will come out as a matter of public record.”

“How long does that take.”

“It can take up to a year from when it starts.    There’s no minimum time on starting it.   As soon as you have a death certificate, you can get it started.    Generally, whoever holds a valid will can get it rolling.   Usually, this is either the next of kin or an attorney.”

Sue thought out loud, “I’m guessing that’s the attorney in this case.  I  guess I better speak to her.”

“Well, good luck.   Shoot me an email if you have another question.”

Holly hung up the phone.   “You want me to get the lawyer on the phone?”

“Look up the number.   Chelsea Burger is the name.   But I’m not going to call yet.   I’m going to ask Fries to call her first.   French and Fries both had a relationship with her.”

Holly broke into raucous laughter so bad it scared her child at first.    Even Sue was a little scared.   “What?”
 

“French, Fries, Burger.    Do we get ketchup with that?”

Sue giggled as well.   French had warned Fries about that. 

[willnotwill]

The next afternoon Sue was trying to figure out what to do next.   Maybe she should call Murph or Ronnie.   She was wondering if the autopsy had been performed and what was found.   She thought about calling Jeremy and see if he’d gotten anything.    She had done just about anything else she could come up with.   She could help Holly with the social media search.  Then the phone rang.

“Garrett Investigations,” Sue answered.

“Hello, this is Chel Burger.   I’d like to speak to Susan Garrett.”

“This is Sue.”

“Mr. Fries says you’re looking into the death of Mr. French on his behalf.   This is such a tragedy.   Jim was a good friend, in addition to a client.”

“Yes, I’m sorry, I never met him.   I keep hearing good things about him.”

“What can I do to help.”

“I know he had an appointment for you the Monday after he died.   I presume it has something to do with a charitable remainder trust.”

“You know about that?” Chesea signed.    “Well, I guess this is all going to come out in the probate and other filings.    Yes, he created the trust.    Jim was concerned not just with reforming his firm's practices toward responsible development, but he wanted to make a personal commitment.”

“So, the Responsible Land Institute is going to get a big slug of money?”

“Unfortunately, not from the trust.    Jim was coming by that Monday to sign the trust documents so he could send it to his investment advisor to get the securities transferred.   I can’t give you an exact number, but it was a lot.”

“I have what I think are the instructions for that transfer,” I added.   “What happens with the money now?”

“The estate will be probated in accordance with the will.   And before you ask, I don’t feel comfortable discussing this before the probate filing.”

“When will that happen?”

“I’m sitting on the papers now.    I’ll go to the orphan’s court the moment I have the death certificate.”

“Orphans?”

“That’s just what they call it in this state.”

“Oh, OK.   Well, if you hear anything on the death certificate before I do, I’d appreciate a call.”

“Sure thing.”

Holly shouted from the outer office.   “Dr. Ryan called.”  Sue picked up the phone and dialed the number.

“Hey, Jeremey, Susie.  Got anything?”

“Yeah, I think I do.   I’m pretty sure you’re right.   Definitely an Impala.   I have a rough headshot of the driver worked up.    Don’t know how useful it would be.    Definitely, it does look like some damage to the front right bumper, and he’s going to have a broken turn signal.”

“Great work, Jeremy.    I owe you.”

“How about dinner at Charleston?”

Sue stammered a bit at the suggestion.

“There’s one more thing.   Got your pencil ready?”

“Yes.”

Jeremy read out a license plate number.   “I can’t tell what state, but it’s probably a good guess that it’s a Maryland tag.”

“Ok, you’re on for dinner.    What time.”

“I’ll pick you up at your office at seven.   I’ll make the reservation for 7:30.”

Sue was elated.    She looked at her watch.    It was 4:30.    She had some time before she had to get ready for dinner.    She fired up her computer.   In her inbox was an email from Jeremy.   Three images attached confirmed what he had told her over the phone.   She brought up a web browser and visited one of her research sites.   She typed in the license plate number.

She said a prayer while waiting.   The plate could be stolen.   It could also be blocked from her database.    If she struck out, she could turn the number over to Ronnie or Murph.  They wouldn’t be subject to the blocks.  They’d also know if the plate and been reported stolen.

The results came back.   The plate was indeed registered to a 2008 bronze Impala.   The registered owner was a Kevin Tapp on Union Avenue.   She typed Kevin Tapp and the address into another database.    The information came up there.   She clicked on a link, and the address was flagged in Google Maps.   Hampden.    This was a working-class, some would say, redneck neighborhood on the other side of Wyman Park from the Hopkins campus and Charles Village.   Like many areas of the city, it had been going through a resurgence in popularity.

She clicked the street view.    Apparently, the Hampden renewal hadn’t yet met Tapp’s block.    She looked at the other information.    Tapp had a cell phone.  The database showed the number.   It showed three related people and two prior Baltimore addresses. However, he’d lived at the current address for several years.

Red flags appeared on two items in the report.    One signified the presence of a criminal record.   Let it not just be speeding tickets, Sue hoped.   Another item meant the existence of legal records.   Could be he was sued or he sued someone, or he went bankrupt.

Sue scrawled down the name, address, and date of birth.    He was born on August 5, 1980.   She went out to Holly.

“Drop everything.   Get me everything you know about this person, criminal records, legal check, credit check, and social media.    Look for any relationship with our players.   Feel free to follow any leads, friends, or relatives you come across.”  Holly was about to ask a question, but Sue anticipated.   “Yes, you can charge the Fries account for any searches.” Usually, they would stop their searches unless they had a client to pay for services that weren’t already flat rated into their database subscription.

“What are you going to do?” Holly said.

“I’m going to go put on my best.   Jeremy Ryan is picking me up for dinner in an hour.”

“So, that’s how you get those guys to work on your problems.”

“It’s just dinner,” Sue said.  “It’s not like he expects me to sleep with him.   Or did he?”

[willnotwill]

Sue woke up alone the next morning.  Dinner with Jeremy was pleasant.      He just allowed her to buy him dinner.   He did seem to appreciate the short dress and makeup Sue applied.   She rarely wore these in daily life.   To her relief, he had not put any moves on her.   Or was she relieved?   Why shouldn’t they have some fun?   But she realized Jeremy wasn’t exactly her type.    Just what was her type?

She decided to put on the megamax.   Over that, she a shirt and cargo pants, her usual fieldwork attire.   There was likely a long day of fieldwork ahead.   The goal was to find the Impala and Kevin Tapp, if possible.    If she did, she’d turn this all over to the police.    She went downstairs, and Holly was already working.

“What have you got for me?”

“Tapp has quite a record.    He’s got a chain of convictions going back to before he moved to Baltimore from Philly.   Heavy stuff like assault.   I pulled up some news articles on his arrests.   I think he might be an enforcer for the mob or loan sharks or something.”

Sue considered this.   “Any relationship to anybody on the case?”

“Not that I can tell.   It could be that I’ve not found the connection, I’m still digging.   It could be an unrelated attack.   It also could be that someone was paying him.”

“A hitman?” Sue asked.

“Well, I don’t see any murder in his past, but he’s sure roughed up people enough.”

“Anyhow, he’s got the place in Hampden that you knew about.   He’s got parents still up in Philadelphia and a sister out near Eldersburg somewhere.”

“Well, I guess it’s time to see if I can find him.   Sue went back into her office and opened the safe and took out her gun and holster.   She donned the weapon and put a light jacket over the top of that.   She returned to the outer office to give Holly some final instructions to find her putting on her coat.

“Leaving?” Sue asked.

“I’m going with you.”   Sue sighed.   She let her go on one search with her, and now she wants to go all the time.   Sue liked working alone in the field.   She especially didn’t want to drag an inexperienced person along.

“How else am I going to learn?” Holly interrupted Sue’s train of thought.   “Besides, I already have a diaper on.”   Sue admitted that Holly had a point with her first statement.   The second showed determination.

“What about the kids.”

“My sister will pick them up from school if we’re not back in time.   I already called her.”

Sue was resigned.  She was out of reasons to say no.   “Ok, let’s go.”   They climbed into Sue’s truck and headed over toward Hampden.   “You know what the car looks like?” Sue asked.

Holly pulled out a color photo from her pocket.   “I pulled this off one of the used car search websites.   Same model, year, and color.  Sue had to give Holly kudos for that.   It was a much better exemplar than the even cleaned up photo of the actual car that Jeremy had provided.

Sue drove slowly down Union Avenue, and they scanned the parked cars.     They drove around on the neighboring streets.  Sue had to admit that having Holly along sped things up.   She could concentrate on the left side, and Holly would watch the right.    Finally, Sue gave up the search and headed back to Union.    They passed Tapp’s address again.  Sue counted in her head the number of houses to the corner.

She rounded the corner and turned into the alley.   “Let’s see if he has a garage or a parking pad off the alley.”    Sue counted the houses again from the rear.     She stopped just short of Tapp’s house.   There was a garage there.

“Stay here,” Sue said as she got out of the car.   She grabbed the heavy Maglite flashlight from under the seat and walked over to the garage.   It had the old style double swinging doors sporting cracked and dirty glass.   She walked up to it trying to look nonchalant until she got to the point where the house blocked the view of her.   She didn’t want Tapp to be tipped off if he happened to be looking out the back window.   She clicked on the light and carefully peered into the window.

Nothing.    The garage was completely empty.    She returned to the truck.   “Well?” Holly asked.

“Empty.”

“Too bad.”

“Yes, but the garage is completely empty.    It means there probably was a car in there recently.   If people don’t have a car to store in their garage, the garage tends to accumulate all kinds of stuff in storage.”   Sue had already got the truck rolling down the alley.

“What now?”  Holly asked.

“Do you have a picture of Tapp in your pocket?” Sue asked.

Holly pulled out the picture.  It was a mugshot.   “Mug shot from an arrest four years ago.   It’s the most recent photo I could find of any kind.”   Sue studied it carefully.    “OK, come with me.  Keep your eyes open.”

Sue reached behind the seat and pulled out a wad of leaflets.    Holly looked over at what they were.   “The Way to God” was printed in big letters over a road heading off to the horizon.

“Are we going to preach to him?” Holly asked.

“Only if absolutely necessary,” Sue said with a smile.    Holly walked to the end of the block closest to Tapp's place and climbed the steps of the first house.   She stuffed a flyer in the mailbox.    They did this until they reached Tapp's house.    This time Sue rang the bell.   She stood there waiting for an answer.    Nonchalantly she leaned over and looked in the window.   She shrugged, left a brochure, and then went to the next house.    After that one, they crossed over the seat and returned to the truck.

“So, what was that all about?” Holly asked.

“Religious missionary is a good cover in case anybody does come out.”

“Too bad, he didn’t.”

“Yes, and did you notice anything?”

“The house was completely dark?”

“Yes, and there were some of the freebie neighborhood papers piled on the stoop.    Even though Tapp doesn’t likely take the Sun, it appears he hasn’t been around to at least discard those.    And the mailbox was tight when I stuffed in the flyer.   It’s probably all junk mail, but it means he hadn’t emptied it.”

“So, what’s your gut feeling?” Holly asked.

“He’s not been here.   He could be in hiding.”

“So, you’re going to turn it over to Murphy now?”

“Not quite yet.   Let’s go check out that sister.”

They headed out to Liberty Road.   Give me the rundown on the sister.   Holly didn’t disappoint.   Appears she’s a nurse at the hospital.   The husband works for social security.   They seem to have a Green Acres sort of thing going.   They bought a small farm out in the county, hoping to change their lifestyle.

“Yeah, but they’re probably too dependent on their incomes at this point.   Farming isn’t really a part-time job.”

“The wife seems big on growing vegetables.   Lots of stuff on her facebook page about that.   They have some chickens, too.”

Holly called up the Google app on her phone and led them on the way.    The farm was going to be on the right as they approached it.    Sue told Holly she was going to do a drive by and to keep her eyes peeled.     Sue drove as slow as she figured wouldn’t attract attention and continued until she was out of sight in the other direction.   She pulled into a side street and parked.

“Anything?” Sue asked.

“House looks dark, though it’s hard to tell in the daylight.    Didn’t see any cars or a garage.    There’s an old tractor sitting to the left side of the house.   I saw the hen house in the far rear.”

Sue turned the truck around and did another pass, this time she looked carefully at the farm as she went by.    It all confirmed what Holly had said.    They got back to the main road and drove down to a gas station and parked again.

“Let me see your phone,” Sue asked.

Sue took the phone and switched the map display to satellite and then spread her fingers to zoom in on the farm.    Their appraisal was right.   The house did not have a garage.    Out back however, blocked from view by some trees and the house itself, was either a shed or a pole barn.     “I wonder why the tractor is in the yard and not in the pole barn,” Sue said out loud.

“You think?”   Holly said, realizing the implication.

“One way to find out.”    The drove over and parked just around the curve from the house.

“Don’t you need a warrant or something?” Holly asked.

“Police need warrants.  I’m not one anymore.  Stay here.   If I’m not back in ten minutes, call 911.”

“OK,” Holly said.

Sue chose her plan of approach.   If she skirted across the field, she might escape the notice of anybody looking out of the house.   Once at the tree line, she could make her way up to the shed-barn under cover.

She got out of the car.   She unzipped her jacket to make sure she could get to the gun quickly if necessary.   She also took the flashlight.   She made her way across the field, ducking down behind an old stone wall that separated the property she was on from the sister’s.  She looked back at the truck.   Holly was watching with binoculars.    She drew in a breath and let it out and hopped over the fence and swiftly made her way to the trees.

She got there and leaned against the trunk of the nearest keeping it between her and the house and waited a minute.   She looked around the tree.   Nothing.    She moved from tree to tree until she was at the structure.  It was a large shed.   It appeared to be of relatively recent construction.    It had doors.   They were shut but the hasp was open, and there was apparently no lock.   There were no windows.

Again she planned her approach.    She’d quickly move along the side of the shed and then duck in the door and close it behind her.    She again took a deep breath and made her move.   As the door closed, she was plunged into darkness.   She listened for a second but heard nothing.   She closed her eyes and reopened them.   Her eyes had adapted to the dark, but there was just too little light to see anything.  The room smelled of musty straw.

She clicked on her flashlight.   She swung it up, and she saw it.    Sitting there was a 2008 Impala.   She was looking at the rear end of it.    She slid over to the right side wall and moved forward.   She played her light on the front fender and advanced until she saw the damage.   Positive ID, she thought to herself.    Now to report back to Holly.

She took one step back and then felt something crash into her from behind.   She was propelled into the side of the shed.    She was pinned.   She tried to reach for her gun but her head was then slammed into the side of the building dazing her.   She felt rough hands pulling her backward, and then the gun was yanked from her holster.    She was then thrown to the floor.

She heard a click and the room was illuminated with a single overhead bulb.   She looked up and saw Kevin Tapp standing over her.   He had a shotgun trained on her and had her gun in his other hand.

[willnotwill]

“Who are you, a cop?” Tapp demanded.

“I’m not a cop,” Sue said, trying to regain her composure.

“Who are you then?” he said, jabbing the shotgun into her ribs.

Sue thought hard.    She had several options.   She could try to figure out how to get past this guy without being shot.   He was bigger than she expected and he had two guns, including hers.   The flashlight had rolled under the Impala.   Sue could see it’s beam shining.   She doubted she could reach it.   There were some farm utensils on the wall, but still, nothing that would likely work against a gun.

Her other option was to prolong things and hope Holly not only followed instructions and called 911, but the county cops got here quickly.   She painstakingly gathered her self up in a sitting position.    “I’m a private investigator.”

“Private investigator?  What are you investigating?”   Tapp shouted.   Sue let him stew on that for a second.   He rephrased the question.   “Who are you working for?”

Sue thought about the answer to this.   Why not tell the truth.   She didn’t think this guy would know who Fries was.

“Robert Fries hired me.”

“Who the fuck is Robert Fries?” he said.   Good, it was working.    “What does it have to do with this place?”

“He’s trying to figure out who is interfering with his business.”  This was also true to a certain extent.   The death of French certainly was an interference.     Sue racked her brain for information.   “My information led me to research William Goode.”    That was Tapp’s sister’s husband.   She was fortunate that she remembered that name.

“Are you Goode?”  she asked.   She knew it wasn’t, but perhaps if Tapp was diverted into thinking that she was poking around the brother-in-law and not looking for her, she might just be run off the property rather than harmed.

Tapp took a step back to think about it.     He lowered the shotgun a bit and took a look at Sue’s gun.   “Nice piece,” he said.    He pointed it at her.   “I’m going to teach you dicks not to come sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”   Sue didn’t like the sound of that.

Tapp kept her gun trained on her but he set the shotgun against the wall and advanced on her.   He placed the barrel right to her forehead.  “Now be a good little girl and take those pants off.”

Shit, Sue thought to her self.   The lesson of the day was likely going to be rape.    She paused for a second.    Surely the ten minutes had expired.    She had to prolong this.

“Now, bitch.    Otherwise, I can just shoot you and take them off myself.    Makes no difference to me.”

Sue slowly unbuttoned her pants.   Tapp was actually licking his lips.   He was getting off on this.   She slowly kicked off one shoe and then the other.     He looked at her.    He seemed to not be annoyed by her pace.   He wanted to prolong this.     Sue slowly wriggled out of her pants and then pulled them up to cover herself in false modesty.

“That’s nice,” he said.   He kept the pistol trained on her and reached down and unfastened his own pants.   He unzipped his fly and yanked them away just long enough to free his own enormous cock.  He was already aroused to a full erection.

[kerry]

I've become confused, Will. I was under the impression (from Ch 1) that Sue is incontinent and wears diapers whenever out of the office, where she wears some sort of pullup. The last two chapters—and especially this one—seem to have left that characteristic behind, making her diaper wearing a choice. 

[willnotwill]

I'm not sure why you get that.   She alternates between protective underwear (brand unspecified) and other diapers depending on what she's doing that day.   Holly is the one who is optionally wearing diapers.   

 

[willnotwill]

During this interaction, Sue caught something out of the corner of her eye.   She had mixed feelings about what it was.    She dared not look in that direction but kept her eyes on Tapp, shifting purposefully from his eyes to his cock and back.

“Yeah, girl, you’re gonna get a lesson like you’ve never had before.”

Tapp advanced on her.   He was using his left hand to wave his cock back and forth while the right held the gun.    He was leaning against her now with he gun jammed into her temple.  Sue needed a small diversion.    What?   Shit, think of something.

Shit.   Yes.   She hoped she could.    She felt Tapp's dive into her diaper.   He’d be ripping it off next.    She bore down and pushed a large mass of feces out into the diaper.   It was digusting, but she wriggled a bit to make sure it would smear all over.

Suddenly, Tapp’s nose wriggled.   He pulled back a bit abruptly.   He had yanked his hand out of the diaper rather than ripping it off.   It was covered in Sue’s feces.    He took another step and shook his hand as if that would fling off all off.  “Shit, you’re as crazy as that other bitch.”

The last word was cut off by a gunshot.    Tapp fell to his side exposing what Sue both hated and wanted to see.    Holly was standing there, holding Tapp’s shotgun.

Sue quickly reached for her gun and pried it from Tapp’s hand.    Then she reached up and jabbed her fingers in Tapp’s neck.

“Is he?” Holly asked.

“Dead? Yes.   I thought I told you to call 911.”

“I did, but I saw Tapp enter the shed and thought you might need help.”   Holly slid down the wall and was now sitting on the floor opposite Holly.  Tapp lay dead between them.

“Are you OK?” Sue asked.

“I think so.   I’m still in shock.”   She smiled.   “I used the diaper.”

“Me, too,” Sue admitted.

They heard the sirens approach.    “I told them you were in the shed.”     

“Put the guns over there near the door,” Sue said, handing Holly her pistol.   Holly obliged and then returned to sit next to Sue.

“Police Department,” they heard being barked from outside.

“I’m the one who called,” Holly yelled.  “We’re inside, and we’re OK now.”

“We’re unarmed,” Sue added.

The doors of the shed flung open, and then two uniformed officers swung around with their pistols out in front of them.

“The guns are on the floor there,” Sue said, holding her hands up.   Holly already had hers raised.

They noticed Tapp on the floor.   One officer secured the weapons.   “You want to tell me what is going on here?”  the apparent senior one asked.

“Tapp was holding the pistol to Ms. Garrett’s head and getting ready to rape her.    I got him with the shotgun.”

One of the other cops had rolled Tapp over at this point.    His cock was still exposed.

“Do you mind if I put my pants back on?” Sue asked.

“Ok, ok,” he said.    Sue crawled over and retrieved her pants, and pulled them back on.

“Why don’t you come outside and start from the beginning.”

[willnotwill]

Sue and Holly repeated their stories several times.   First to the officer that had initially asked.   Then to the uniformed lieutenant that arrived.   Then to a detective.    The latter told them that they needed to come to his station for further interviews.    Holly, having just killed a man, would get a ride in a police car.     Sue indicated she would follow in her truck.    A parade of police cars and Sue’s truck left the farm and made their way to the county police station.

On the way, she picked up her phone and called her lawyer.   She got his voice mail, and she left a message for him.    Things should be OK, but Holly had killed a man.

It was brighter and newer, and perhaps even cleaner than many of the city stations, Sue thought as she arrived there.   Holly and she were taken to separate interview rooms.   Sue sat alone for about thirty minutes until a female officer entered the room.

“Hi.  I’m detective Loomis.  I’ll be handling one aspect of this case.     I understand that the dead man was attacking you when he was shot.   I’m with the sexual assault task force.”

Sue breathed a little easier.   She recounted the story.   When she got to the part where she pooped to create the distraction, the detective laughed.

“What?” Sue said in surprise.

“Sorry.  Everybody talks about pooping themselves in a rape situation.   I think this is the first time I actually heard about it happening.”    Sue admitted it was a little funny.   She regaled the detective with Tapp’s reaction to finding he’d stuffed his hand in a pile of shit.

“Did you say you were wearing a diaper?” the detective asked.

Sue sighed.   “Yes.   I was an officer in the BPD.   You probably saw that.   I was severely injured in an L-O-D auto accident.  I’ve been incontinent,” she paused. “Of urine only.   Since.”

“Speaking about that.   Unless you need to collect some evidence from my diaper, can I please change it now.   I’m not accustomed to spending time sitting in my own feces.”

“Oh, sorry.    Yes.  Please do.”

“My bag is in the truck.”

“Sure.   Just don’t go anywhere.”

Sue went and got her diaper bag and found a ladies' room.   She used just every wipe in the package cleaning herself up.    She washed up and looked in her bag.   There was an unopened pack of wipes.   She took that and a spare diaper and set about trying to get them to Holly.

She reentered the lobby and saw her attorney standing there.   She waved him over.   She gave him the nickel summary.

“So you’re OK?” the lawyer asked.   Sue didn’t know if he was referring to her state after nearly being raped and possibly killed or her legal situation.   She decided it was probably the latter.

“I’m worried about Holly.   She saved my life.   This should be justifiable.”

“The police have no option than to refer it to the state’s attorney,” the lawyer said.   “I know the one they’re likely to call out here.   I’ll talk to him.  I should have Holly turned loose in a few hours.”

Sue handed the diaper and the wipes to the attorney.  “Get these to Holly when you get a chance.   She’s sitting in a wet, or perhaps worse, diaper now.”

“Her, too?” the lawyer said.   He knew about Sue’s incontinence.

“Just do it.”

Just then, she saw Ronnie and Murph walk in.    Murph was talking to the desk sergeant.   Ronnie came over to Sue.    “Are you OK?” Ronnie asked.

“I’m fine.   I’m concerned about Holly.   She saved my life.”

“I hear the one she killed was the one who killed French.”

“That’s the theory.”

“Murph’s hopping mad.    He wants to have you locked up, with good reason.”

“I’d thought he’d be happy that the case was resolved.”

“It may not be.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s going to tell you, I’m sure.    Look, I’m going to go see what I can find out about Holly.”

“My lawyer’s with her now.   See if they can let her out of the room long enough to change her diaper.   I don’t know now which one of us is going to get turned loose first.    I’d wait around for her, but I don’t know what Murph has in mind.”

“I’ll make sure she gets home if she gets turned loose before you.”

A BPD officer and Murph approached.   The BPD officer pointed at an empty interview room and told him the tapes were off.

Murph just pointed at the room.   Sue swallowed and entered the room.   Murph slammed the door shut behind them.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing?” he yelled at her.

“Following an investigatory lead.”  Sue stuck to her guns.

“This was my case you blew up.    You screwed the pooch on this one.   If we don’t find Tapp’s murderer, it will be on your head.   I ought to have you locked up.”

“On what charge?”

“I’ll find something.  We’ll start with B&E on the Tapp farmhouse.    You’re lucky your partner doesn’t end up with Murder-two on this.”

“Tapp was holding a gun on me and in the process of raping me,” Sue pointed out.  “And I didn’t break in.   The door was open.   And it wasn’t the house, but a shed.”

They stared at each other for a long time.

“You should have called me,” Murph said to break the silence.

“And you would have called me back?”  Sue said.

“Now, I have to figure out if I unravel this mess.”

More silence.    “What aren’t you telling me,” Sue said.   “You don’t think Tapp murdered French?”

Murph sighed and plopped down in the chair.   “No.  At least not alone.”

“What aren’t you telling me.”

“This will take a while,” he said.

“I got time, apparently.”

“The autopsy came down this morning.   Yes, Tapp’s car ran into French.   It crushed him against the guardrail pretty much destroying his legs.    That was the obvious injury the ME saw when he picked up the body.”

“But that’s not what killed him?” Sue said, incredulously.

“Possibly not.   There are some perimortem head injuries.   Something hit him, or he hit something with a cylindrical profile a couple of inches in diameter.    Nobody can figure out what that would have been in the area involved.    It’s too small to be a street light or fireplug.    It’s the wrong shape to be either the guardrail or the signposts in that area.   Nobody’s quite sure how he ended up down the hill from being pinned to the guardrail, either.   The mechanics are just wrong.”

“So you think someone else may have hit him in the head with something and through him down the ravine after Tapp ran him down?   Who, how?”

“Fuck I know.    Maybe Colonel Mustard did it in the Conservatory with a lead pipe.”  Murph was quoting game pieces from the Clue board game.

“I would have loved to have sweated Tapp a bit on the subject,” he said again with the irritation returning in his voice.

“He wouldn’t have talked, I think.   He’s got a long history of enforcer-type busts.    I don’t think you putting him under the hot lights would have broken him.”

“Who are you working for on this?” Murph asked.

Sue thought about it for a second.    She didn’t have privilege in this matter.   Sometimes when she was contracted with an attorney, she fell under that attorney-client shield.   “Fries.   He just seemed genuinely concerned about finding out what happened to French.   I told him there was likely to be friction with my investigation and the police.”

“That’s for sure.    Tell me all you know.”

Sue gave him the whole gist of the investigation as it led to the discovery of Tapp’s identity.   She said that Holly had been doing social media dives on everybody even tangentially related to the case, but hadn’t found anything.

“So, I guess I can’t get you to get your nose out of this investigation?” Murph finally said with a smile.

“No.”

“What’s your next move.”

“Follow the money.   I’ve been trying to pry some details out of French’s lawyer about who might benefit from him being dead.   Fries is pretty adamant that other than the loss of a sharp mind for their firm.”

“OK, you call me the minute you uncover something.    And no going out and shooting suspects.”

“I didn’t shoot the suspect.”

“You’re responsible for your girl.”

Another period of silence followed.     Then Murph stood.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Sue left the interview room.    She saw the detective she was talking to earlier standing at the desk.   “Do you know what happened to my partner?”

“Your cop friend took her home a half an hour ago.”

That was good.   She told Murph she’d be in touch and went out to the truck.

She dialed Holly’s cell on the way out but got voice mail.    She called the office and got the same.   She guessed at the timeline.   They’re probably were still en route.

She got to the office and went inside.   Both Ronnie and Holly were sitting there.    There was a bottle between them, and they each had glasses.

“Is that my Bourbon?” Sue asked.

“Holly needed it,” Ronnie said.  “Want some?”

Sue collapsed into the remaining chair.   “Definitely.”

“They kicked Holly loose.   Your attorney spent twenty minutes with the DA and they decided that it was a good shoot.”   Ronnie was using cop terms.   Cops termed the use of their guns as either “good” in that they were justified, or bad, meaning they screwed up.    Usually, that meant some internal disciplinary action, but very rarely, at least in Baltimore, the officer could face criminal charges.

“How are you holding up?” Sue asked Holly.

“Once they turned me loose and I was in Ronnie’s car, I broke down.   I think I’m OK now, but the alcohol is helping.  I am starving however.  We decided to wait for you to come back.   We knew when I checked the messages, you were also on your way back.

“How about I swing by that Italian place down the street and get something,” Ronnie said, pronouncing it EYE-Talian.

“Anything other than pizza,” Sue said.   We had that the other night.

Ronnie left to get the food.

Sue turned to Holly.   “So, how are you, really?”

“I’m surprisingly OK.   I don’t know what I’d have done if I hadn’t been able to get that shot off.   I think having to watch you get raped or killed would have bothered me much more.”

“OK, well, if you want to take some time, don’t worry about the office.”

“Thanks.    I do want to ask one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Can I get a gun?”

Sue thought about this.   “I guess you might need one.   It’s not exactly easy.  There’s no exception in the state gun laws for PIs.    We’ll need to get you a carry-wear permit.   That will take more justification that you just having your license.   It was easy for me as I came out of law enforcement, but I think we can make a good case for you.    You’ll need to take a course.  In fact, I’d want you to have a better course than just what the state requires.”

“OK.”

“Where are the kids?”

“My sister took them to her place.    I thought I might need the space tonight.”

Just then, Ronnie showed up with a large bag.   He started setting out food.    Salad.   Lasagna.   Spaghetti with meatballs.  Sausage and peppers.   “And,” he said, holding up the last item.  “Leave the gun.”

“And take the cannoli,” both women completed.   They burst into laughter over the much used Godfather line.   Holly grabbed some plates and they all dug into the food.   After some good-natured discussion over dinner, unrelated to the day's event.   Holly excused herself to get some much-needed sleep.

Ronnie and Sue finished their cannoli.   Ronnie refilled his glass and held the bottle toward Sue.  She held out her glass.

“So, do you miss it?” Ronnie asked.

“Miss what?”

“Being a cop?”

“I don’t know.   No, I don’t think I do.   I like doing what I’m doing, even despite what almost happened today.   But I could have gotten shot on the job.   Hell, I almost died in that car crash on the job.”

“I’ve really missed having you around after you left the force.    You know I visited you in the hospital when you were unconscious, and then you know I was there after you came out of it.   I was so sad you never came back to work.”

“You missed a fellow cop?” Sue said.

“I missed my friend.”    He set his glass down and moved close to her.   He took her free hand in his.   She set her glass down, and he took that hand.   They stared in each other’s eyes for a minute.    And then they kissed.

[willnotwill]

Sue led Ronnie up to her bedroom.    She took her time removing his clothes.   They had known each other for a long time, but this was the first time they’d ever been close to being intimate.   At least, that’s what Sue thought.     She got his pants off.    Briefs.    She always figured him to be a boxer man.

Ronnie pulled her shirt off over her head.    He reached down and went to unfasten her pants.   He paused.   “Yes,” said Sue.   This was the second time she had her pants off today, she mused.    She got them down.

“You take yours off, and I’ll take mine off,” she said snapping the waistband of his briefs.    Sue went and got an underpad and spread it out on the bed.    She then yanked the diaper down without untaping it,  lowering it down as if it were regular underwear.    She kicked it aside.   She took Ronnie’s hands and walked backward to the bed.   She got down on the bed.

“How does this work?” Ronnie said.

“Don’t you know?” Sue said with a smile.

“I mean with your…” he paused not knowing the words.

“Oh, that.   My control isn’t that bad.   Besides, if I did leak, that’s what the pad is for.   Some guys, I hear, even get off on it.”

Ronnie’s confidence was bolstered, and he came over and entered her.    Sue hadn’t had sex in a long time.   In fact, she didn’t ever think she had had sex like this.    After it was over, Ronnie plopped on his back next to her.   They laid their silent for a moment, listening to their own breathing.  Sue then rolled out of bed and grabbed a new diaper, and put it on.

She got back into bed and snuggled up to Ronnie.   He placed his hand on her diapered crotch and stroked her softly.   “When you’re ready,” Sue said.  “You can take that off me.”

And an hour later, he did.    Then after she rediapered, they fell asleep.    Early in the morning, she got up and started the coffeemaker.   She brought Ronnie a cup who was now sitting up in the bed.

“So what happens today,” he said.

“Well, I’m going to see Fries.   I owe them a status update.   I also want to quiz them again as to what French was doing with his financials.   The lawyer won’t give me anything more until the probate gets underway.    Fries also said he’d open up their books to me.”

“Sounds like a plan.   I have to get home and shaved and showered and back to work.   I’ve got court this afternoon.”

They finished their coffee.    They kissed once more, and Ronnie got dressed and left.   Sue headed for the shower.

[kerry]

11 hours ago, willnotwill said:

I'm not sure why you get that.   She alternates between protective underwear (brand unspecified) and other diapers depending on what she's doing that day.   Holly is the one who is optionally wearing diapers.   

 

OK. I misinterpreted the rape scene. When he stripped off her pants and did not immediately react to the diaper (which should be a Megamax, I believe), I assumed she was not wearing one. And when she covered herself with her hands "in false modesty," that seemed to cinch it: there is no way anyone's hands could cover up a full sized diaper. ?

[willnotwill]

Probably should have made that clearer.  She was hiding her diaper not the fact she wasn't wearing anything.

Sue felt she owed Fries a status report so she arranged to meet him that morning.   She gave him the dump about her locating Tapp and his death.    He seemed happy to hear that, but then she gave the information about the additional injuries and the police concerns that she did agree with.

“So now what do you do?” Fries said.

“Follow the money.    My assistant is chasing the disgruntled love interest, though that doesn’t seem to be an issue.”

“OK, what do you need.”

“Can you explain the financial arrangements between First Properties and French?”

“We’re pretty much a two-man operation.  Jim and I would find properties to buy.   Jim would negotiate the purchase.   I’d do my magic developing it, and then Jim would sell it.”

“So, you don’t hold a lot of real estate?”

“Not unless it is in progress.   We’re sort of like those house flippers you see on TV, except on a much larger scale.”

“So, what are you going to do now that French is gone?”

“We still have several projects we own that need to be completed.   That’s my area.    I’m not entirely incapable of closing a deal, so I can do it if I have to.   I’m looking at some new HBS grads to see if I can find another person to fill that role.”

“And how was the profit split?”

Fries smiled and picked up the phone.  “June, can you bring in a copy of the master operating agreement for Ms. Garrett.”    After expenses, which include saving some money to finance future acquisitions and paying some bonuses to key employees, it gets split 50-50 between Jim and me.”   June entered and handed Fries the paper.

“It’s all laid out here.  You can keep that copy.   If you think that I had Jim killed to get a bigger piece of the pie, let me lay it out for you.   It doesn’t work that way.   His share goes to his heirs.   Further, even if it did revert to me.   I’d dare say, I’d pull in more with Jim in the mix and taking half than I would take all of it without Jim.”

Sue stewed over that a second.  She’d have to run everything by DH for a second look, but it appeared that Fries was right.   Now what?

“I need to look at French personally.   Could I go through his office?”

“Sure thing, if it would help.   June?”

June took Sue back to French’s office.   Sue sat down at French’s meticulously clean desk.   She opened the center drawer.     It held the keyboard and mouse.   The front flipped down to be useable.     She looked on the left side and found nothing unusual in the drawer there.   Sam on the right.

She swiveled around and examined the neat row of files on the top.   They contained the same sorts of information she found on project files that were in his house.   “By the way, I found a few of these kind of files in French’s desk at home and one in his briefcase.”

“Mr. Fries will need those back,” June said.

“I’ll retrieve them for you.   I still have a key, and I’ll need to go back there anyway.”

“If you told me what you were looking for, I might be able to help.”

Sue was pulling opened the file drawer in the credenza and scanning through the tabs of the folder.   These all seemed to be more development plans.

“I’m looking for any clue as to French’s personal finance.    I found some things in his files at home, but others seem to be missing.”

“Like what?”

“Like a will.”

“I’m sure Ms. Burger has that.”

“But wouldn’t French have kept his own copy.”

“Well, he did have an appointment with Ms. Burger on that Monday.   It might have been in his briefcase.”

“I looked in it, but all I found was one of these development files.”

“Did you look in the top?”

“Top?”

June disappeared into the outer office and returned with a briefcase.   “This one’s mine, but it’s similar to Jim’s.”    She opened it up.    She pushed a button on the edge of the lid, and an accordion-pleated section opened up.   “This is an interesting feature of this case.   She shut the lid and stood it upright and opened it.   It only opened a few inches but Sue could see what she was looking at through the top was the accordion section of the lid.

“This is to allow you to pull files out while it’s vertical, while not dumping out the contents in the main section.”

Sue took it and tried opening it while it was vertical.   She closed it and did it while it was flat.   She saw how this worked.

“Thanks, I’ll look there.”

She continued to look through French’s office, not finding anything productive.   She picked up her copy of the operating agreement and headed out.

She drove back to her office.   Holly was back in the outer office.    She went to her desk to retrieve the key to French’s place when the phone rang.   Holly called back, “Detective Murphy for you?”

“Yeah, Murph?” Sue said into the phone, plopping down into her chair.

“Have anything for me?” he said.

“Doing a dive on the money.   Spent the morning going over First Properties.   I didn’t find anything.   My gut tells me they were in better shape with French than without him.   I’m trying to dive into French’s personal finances.   I still have a key that his sister gave me.   I’m going over there to look at the files again.”

“OK, what about the personal relationship angle.”

“Holly has been digging through French and just everybody out.   She’s got some interconnections, but nothing really substantial.”

“I’d like to get all that.”

“I’ll have her package it up for you.   You want to talk to her now.”   Sue put the phone on hold and called out to Holly.   “Murph wants to talk to you.   Give him anything he asks for.”

“Sure thing, Sue.”

[junyour]

I have been following this story and have enjoyed it so far.  I think you have another piece of dl literature to your credit.

Please, keep up the great work.

 

[willnotwill]

Thank you.   The word count on this thing (as finished) seems to be just short of a novel.    This one I might have to polish up and publish.

Anyhow, enjoy the remaining chapters.

 

Sue headed out again.   She wasn’t concerned about entering French’s apartment now.   French was dead.   Presumably, only Janice had the other key.   She went straight to French’s office and opened up the briefcase.    She felt for the release on the lid file and found it.   It flipped down.   She reached inside and found a single file folder.

“Will” read the tab.

She opened it up.    The first thing in it was a will dated two years earlier.    The second was a will dated a few weeks ago.    She wondered which one was current.   She’d have to pry that information out of Burger.   She dialed the lawyer and got voice mail.   She asked for a callback as soon as possible.

Sue closed the briefcase and made one last search of the office.   She then looked around the apartment, in closets, and behind pictures.    Did French have a safe?   At least one to protect documents from fire, if not theft.   She hunted and didn’t find it.   Perhaps he had a safe deposit box in some bank.    She made a mental note to ask both Burger and June about that.

She scanned the apartment.   Something still bothered her.   It had been nagging at her since she first saw it, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.   She scanned through it again and decided to head back to her office.   She would go over these two wills line by line and find out what the changes were.

When she entered the office, she found a message from Holly saying she was running down to to Fayette street to take Murph a copy of her social medial dives  She had just sat down at her desk, when her phone rang.   “This is Candace Burger.”

“Oh, hi.   I’ve got a couple of questions for you if you are able to answer.”

“Sure, I was just about to call you anyhow.   We got the death certificate.   I was just down at the court filing Mr. French’s will.”

“Which will is that?”

“What do you mean.”

“I have two from his files on my desk in front of me.   One’s dated two years ago, the other this month.”

There was a long pause from the lawyer.   “The older one.   I drafted a new one for him but like the trust funding, I don’t think he got to it before his death.”

“So does it need to be filed or notarized or something to be effective?”

“Well, it needs to be proved.    You say you have it in front of you?”

“Yes.”

“Is it signed?”

Sue flipped to the last page.   “Yes, it has what appears to be French’s signature on it.”

“I assume it’s typed?”

“Yes.”

“Are there any witness signatures on it?”

Sue looked at the document.   There were.   She recognized the names.   They were the husband and wife that were from the Urban Institute charity.   She described all this to the lawyer.   Then she thought of something.

“I think I might have more.”    She woke up her computer and dug through some of the stuff that Holly had found until she found the pictures from the party in French’s apartment with Cami and the two charity officers.     One was French holding up a document and smiling.   She zoomed the image.

Yes, it was the signature page that was sitting in front of her.

“Hello?” the lawyer said.

“I have a photo dated last Thursday showing French signing this will.”

“That’s gravy.   You are in possession of a very important document.   Do you have a safe?”

“Yes.  I’ll lock it up immediately.  Are you coming to get it?”

“Tomorrow.   I have to go stop the one I already filed.    It won’t be a problem but it will be less problematic if I do it now.   I can probably get them to just give the filing back as if it never happened if I get to them quickly.”

“One thing.   Can you tell me what changed?”

“I guess you can figure it out yourself if you read it.    The will cover the stuff not in the trust, we call it a pour-over provision.    The old one split equally between his mother and his sister.   The new one creates a special trust for the care of his mother and leaves a moderate amount to his sister, but the bulk will go into the trust for the urban institute.”

“OK, do what you have to do.”

“The plot thickens,” Sue said to herself.   Two people were greatly disadvantaged from the charitable trust if it had been created, and this will:  French’s mother and sister.    French’s mother was in the final throws of Alzheimers.  It’s unlikely she’d have needed or wanted the money and she wasn’t in any condition to do anything about it.

Janice on the other had stood a lot to gain.    Sue dug through the new will and found that French had left her a cool million, but she had guessed French’s estate, just from looking at the totals on that investment account to be worth twenty times that.   Maybe more.    So Janice lost nine million when this will was signed.   No, nineteen million.   Janice was almost certain to inherit the mother’s share when she died or if she predeceased French.

She picked up her phone and called Murph.    His voice came on the line and she tried to interrupt him when she realized it was only voice mail.   She waited for the beep.

“Murph, Sue Garrett.   Found something, listen carefully.   French was working on changing his will when he died.   Everybody thought that it didn’t get done before the murder.    It did.  I have found the signed new will and confirmed it with French’s attorney. It is valid.    It cuts Janice French out of the bulk of the estate.”

She was about to call Holly when her eyes fell on the picture of French smiling back at her on the computer screen.   She looked at it again.   She flipped through the photos in that set.   She got out her phone and flipped through to the pictures she had taken of French’s apartment.  There was a difference.

The thing that had always bothered her she realized was that everything in French’s life from his files to his clothes to his apartment was all perfectly orderly.   She looked at the photo on her phone.   The living room sported a sofa and two matching chairs.   Between them was a coffee table.    The coffee table wasn’t aligned with the other furniture.    In a house of precision and order, this was out of place.   Why?  

Further, looking at the photo from the party, the table was properly placed.   Someone had moved it.    She flipped back and forth from her phone to the computer screen comparing the scenes.   There was something else different.

Adjacent to the entry door was an umbrella stand.   On her phone, the stand contained a couple of umbrellas and what appeared to be a walking stick.    On the computer, those items were there but there was something else.   It was clearly the handle of a baseball bat.   She put her hand to her mouth.   A cylindrical object about two inches in diameter.   That was how the weapon was described.    It was gone.

Sue picked up her phone and redialed Murph’s number.    His voice came on the line and she recognized it as the voice mail again.   She hung up.   She dialed Holly’s number.   She got voice mail as well.    “Holly, if you’re still with Murph.   Tell him to call me ASAP.   I think I know what the murder weapon is.”   She redialed Murph and left a similar message.

What to do now.    What had happened to the bat?   Had one of the party-goers swung it at French and then taken it.   It would seem unlikely.    Janice had access to the apartment.   And what was the significance of the table being moved?    She had to go back and take a closer look.   She’d look to see if she could find the bat, but she also needed to look carefully at the table.

She got back to the truck and forced herself to obey the speed limit on the way up.   Her heart was pounding.    It was the excitement she’d felt as a cop when she was on the cusp of apprehending a criminal.   She got to the Carlisle.   She went up to the apartment and searched everywhere that a bat could be.   No dice.   She grabbed the keys to the Cayenne and went down to the garage.   Nothing there either.   She went back to the apartment.

If it was the murder weapon and they didn’t just leave it in the umbrella stand afterward, why would it still be around?   The murderer would have taken it with them and disposed of it.   Then what.   Maybe the forensics guys could make something out of the photography.  She’d seen stranger science in the courtroom.

She diverted her attention to the coffee table.   Indeed it was way off-center with respect to the other furniture.    She carefully slid it away expecting to find something under it.   Nothing.    In fact, there were indentations from the bottom of the table in the carpeting.   If the table had been elsewhere, shouldn’t there be similar indentations from the previous location?

She leaned over and brushed the carpet over the indention with her hand.   She restored the nap partially.    The murderer could have taken the effort to do so, but it seemed unlikely.   Sue sat down on the coffee table and thought.    If the table hadn’t been moved.   Then it hit her.  She stood up and looked carefully at the chairs and sofa.    Behind the sofa were two tell-tale indentations.    The sofa was what had been moved.   She pulled the sofa back and saw something on the rug.

She thought she might find a bloodstain, but that’s not what she saw.   It wasn’t really a stain at all.   It was the opposite.   This area of carpet was cleaner than the surrounding area.   Someone had cleaned up a spot there and must have realized that the now much brighter area of the carpet stood out and moved the sofa to cover it.

Sue moved the coffee table back to its original position, carefully matching the indentations.   She took out her phone and snapped a picture of the bright area.    She knew that all the evidence was not going to be removed by such cleaning.   Blood left markers that could be seen even without the visible stain.   Further, the blood had probably seeped down into the carpet backing, the padding, and perhaps also the subfloor.    The mobile unit guys would have no problem finding evidence now given a place to look.

She moved the sofa back over the stain, again using the indentations as a guide.   She snapped a photo of the sofa in that position.   She then went behind the sofa and got down on her hands and knees, and aimed her phone to catch the indentations caused by the sofa when in the original position.

She heard the door open.  Still on her knees, she saw Janice French enter the apartment.   “Oh, hi, Janice,” Sue said.    She hoped Janet didn’t know what she was doing.    “I lost an earring.   The last time I had, it was on my last visit here, so I was hoping I could find it.”

It was a lame ruse. In fact, Sue rarely wore anything other than simple studs in her ears.   Dangly things were problematic when you were in police situations.

It was then that she noticed Janice was starting to swing a baseball bat toward her.   Shit, she thought.    

[Guilend]

This has really gotten my attention. Keep up the good work. 

[willnotwill]

Janice didn’t swing it at her head, fortunately.    The blow was targeted at her hands and knocked the phone across the room.   Janice smashed the phone with an overhead chop.

Sue sat there rubbing her hand.    She hoped that Janice hadn’t broken it.   The woman advanced on her again.   Sue had to think again.   Janice was bringing the bat back again.

“It won’t work to kill me.    Jim’s new will be probated tomorrow.  Seriously, one million should be enough for anyone.”

“That will was never signed.   The orders for the transfers to the trust never happened,” Janice said smugly.   “The old will was filed with the court already.”

“Burger’s undoing that now.  I found the will in Jim’s briefcase.    It’s been signed.   Burger says it’s valid.”

“Where is it.”

“I’m not telling you.”

Janice advanced on her swinging the bat like Sammy Sosa.    Sue tried to deflect the blow but a good amount of it caught her in the side of the head.   It hurt like hell and she now knew what people meant when they talked about seeing stars.    She tried to get away from the woman.

“If you kill me, you’ll have to dispose of the body yourself.   Tapp’s dead.”

Janice paused for a second.   Sue’s mind raced.   Her phone was across the room and probably non-functional.    Jim’s phone was in the bedroom, but it might be dead now.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.   We were at his sister’s farm.   We saw the Impala.   The police have it.”

“You killed him!”

“No, my partner did.   He was about to kill me after he was done raping me.”

Sue thought that might engender some sympathy in the woman.   At least temporarily.   Anything Sue could do to delay things gave her options as to find out how to turn the tables on this situation.   Maybe she could get a door between her and Janice.  Lock herself into the bathroom or something.    She started to move toward the bedroom.

“Serves you right.   You’ve ruined everything.”   Janice took another swing.    Sue raised her arm.  She heard a crack.  She knew it was broken.    Janice was rearing back for another blow.   Sue was supporting herself on her good arm.  The broken one hurt like hell.   She prepared to roll when the next blow came.

She did, and she heard the bat thud loudly into the floor next to her.   She was up against the wall now.   She’d not be able to use that maneuver again.    She braced herself for the next swing of the bat.

As the swing started, she closed her eyes.   She heard a crash but felt nothing.  She opened her eyes.   It had been Ronnie.   He was sitting on top of Janice pinning her to the floor next to her.   With his knee in her back and one hand holding her head to the floor, he used the other to wrestle the bat away and slid it across the room.

Two uniforms then came through the door with guns drawn looking at the scene.  “I’m Detective Childress,” Ronnie announced.    “Take this woman into custody.”

One of the officers holstered his weapon and removed a pair of handcuffs from his belt.   Janice was crying now.   Sue wasn't sure if it was pain from being pinned by Ronnie’s bulk or that she realized she’d lost everything.    The officer put the cuff on one wrist and pulled Janice’s arm back while Ronnie adjusted his position to draw her other arm close enough to snap the cuff on that wrist.   He got up and lifted Janice up and the second officer now holstered his weapon.

The two uniforms grabbed Janice from each side and led her from the room.    “Are you OK?” Ronnie asked Sue.

“My arm’s broken.   I might have a concussion.   That girl has quite a swing.”

Ronnie called to the uniforms to call an ambulance and one picked up the radio microphone from his shirt and called it in.   They left.   Sue moved to a sitting position, supporting her bad arm as best she could.

“I’m lucky you came.   How did you know?”

“Murph called.   He got your phone message.    Holly was still with them.  When you didn’t answer your phone, they put it together.   Holly knew how to track your phone with hers.   They called me and I rolled the uniforms.   I was fortunately in my car and got here even faster.”

That’s twice this week Holly has saved my life.  She’s a good assistant.”

“You should consider making her your partner after this.”

“You’ve got a good point.”

The paramedics knocked on the open door.   “Over here,” Ronnie said.

They examined Sue and agreed with the fracture diagnosis.   They splinted and slinged her arm.   They did a vital signs check including checking her pupils.    “It doesn’t look too bad,” one said.  “But you should come to the hospital and be checked out.   You’ll need that arm set, anyway.”  He turned to his partner.   “Go bring up the stretcher.”

Sue protested, “I can walk.  Help me up.”

Ronnie and the paramedic helped her stand.   Just then, Murph and Holly hustled through the door.   “Where’s French?” Murph said.

“On her way to Northern District with the uniforms.    I’ll hold her on the assault of Sue until you get the murder indictment.”

“Well, at least you didn’t kill the suspect this time,” Murph said to Sue with a smile.

“That was Holly last time.    And thanks again for the quick thinking, Holly.   You saved my life again, I think.”

Holly smiled.   “Are you OK?”

“Nothing that won’t heal.    I’m going to the hospital to be patched up.”  She reached in her pocket and handed Holly the truck keys.  “I assume you came over with Murph?”   Holly nodded.  “You can take the truck.”

Ronnie leaned in close to Sue.   “I’ve got to go book French.    I’ll catch up with you if I don’t make it to the hospital before you’re released.”

“Get me another bottle of bourbon.   We nearly finished the one the other night and I’m going to need a drink when I get home.”

“Sure thing, Susie.”

Sue was still at the hospital when Ronnie got there.   They had put her arm in a cast and sent her for X-rays and an MRI to make sure there was no latent injury from the blow to the head.   They had done about everything they could do for her medically when she made a request of the nurse.  “Do you have a spare adult diaper?   The one I’ve got on is soaked and my bag is still in my truck.”   The nurse retrieved her one and left her alone to change.

She got officially discharged, but Murph and Ronnie then took her to a borrowed conference room.    A recorder was set up and Sue went over her version of today’s events.

Murph told her the bat was on the way to forensics to see if they could positively identify it as the murder weapon.   Janice hadn’t confessed to anything.   Ronnie said that she had done nothing but cry since she was apprehended.

“Do you think you’ll have enough to make the murder charge stick?”

“Well, we’ll see what the forensics bring.   I’ll have them pull up that carpet and check it.   I suspect we’ll find French’s blood there.    We’ll check over Tapp’s car, and Janice's, and the Cayenne to see if they can find any more evidence.”

“Do you have a theory?” Sue said.

“Yeah, we digged deeper into the GPS watch thing.   While the uploaded data from the watch gives a pretty good map of the way the wearer ran, the live beacon function that you guys used to find the body only logs a few key things, mostly just the current location.   We downloaded the stored data in his watch.   He hadn’t come down the trail but rather San Martin drive that night.   Probably in a car.”

Sue thought about that.   They had just assumed French had followed his normal run down the trail and then back through the Hopkins campus when they found his location indication right there at the trailhead on Remington.

“Here’s a piece of Tapp’s history that we have that Holly wasn’t able to dig up.    Tapp was arrested in Bryn Mawr a while back.”

“That’s where Janice went to college,” Sue said.

“That we know.   What we also know is that Janice was involved in an assault while she was there.”

“I thought it was just disorderly conduct.”

“The family had money.   They hired a good lawyer and also paid off the victim pretty well fro what we can tell.”

“What happened?”

“She beat up one of her rivals with a field hockey stick.    Tapp was there.   French and him had a relationship at the time.”

“Holy shit,” Sue said.

“Indeed.”

“Anyhow, I think I’ll be able to put enough pieces together to make a compelling case for the state's attorney.   If not, Ronnie has her on first-degree assault.   That’s good for twenty-five years.”

Once the official reporting was done.  “I’ve got a request,” Sue said to the two men.

“Fire away,” Murph responded.

“Holly needs a wear and carry permit.   I  think we might have enough justification now.”

“Sure, no problem.   I know a guy on the permit review board.    I can grease the process.   Let me know when she has her training certificate.   I’ll get her fingerprinted and squared away.”

Murph left and Ronnie said he’d drive Sue home.    “Did you get the bourbon?” she asked.

Ronnie picked up a brown paper sack from the seat.

“Good, let’s take it up the bedroom.”

“Are you in any kind of condition to do that?”

“Just be careful around my arm.”

The next day Sue started some changes in the office.    They got a good infusion of cash from Fries.   He came through with the bonus as he had proposed.    Sue decided to redo the office from the haphazard storefront that she had been operating out of.    She left a small waiting area and receptionist’s desk, but the rest of the space was divided into two offices.   One for her and one for her new partner, Holly.

The firm got a new name.   No longer Garrett Investigations.   Holly suggested “The Diapered Detectives,” but they quickly dismissed that ideaThey thought about using their names but wanted to keep it short.   S and H for Sue and Holly they decide sounded like they should be issuing green stamps.   They joked about French, Fries, and Burger.     G and A, their last initials, worked OK.   They got business cards and a website.    People tended to call the firm “ganda” rather than separating out G and A but they decided they could live with that.

They had moved into their respective new offices one morning.    Sue’s arm had just been removed from the cast and she carried several packages into Holly’s office.   “Some presents for you.”

“And it’s not even my birthday,” Holly said.

Sue slid the first one over.   It was an envelope.   “You got me a card?”

“Open it.”

Holly opened it and found her newly issued wear and carry permit.

“Guess what the next one is,” Sue said, pushing over the second package.

Holly tore that one open to reveal a box containing a new Sig P229 automatic.   “Nice,” she said.

She then took the largest one and tore it open.    It was a bag of Megamax diapers.    “Some for your very own.   We’ve got a lot of fieldwork coming up with our new clients.”

[kerry]

This was a very enjoyable and well-written story! Thanks for writing and posting it. ?

[junyour]

Wonderful story.  And I think that the ending leaves room for a sequel or two. But that is just a boys dreaming, I suppose.

[Shotgun Diplomat]

That was a great read, thanks Will. I like how you have left the ending open to maybe exploring their stories further through vignettes. 

[herezulo]

Great story! You did an excellent job making the mystery interesting and exciting. Thanks for sharing it with us!

[willnotwill]

Thank you for all the kind words.    Yes, the Diapered Detective agency is really ripe for a sequel.

 

[Panther Cub]

I hope so!