A Tiny Slip Ch. 04

The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 23 - Blinded By The Light

Sunday, June 26th. The four State Legislators sat in the office of State Senator Richard Langdon, having a lunch meeting. With him was Sen. Katherine Woodburn, Sen. Jimmy 'Coffin' Cerone, and Rep. Justin Madoff.

Only Senator Cerone's appetite seemed unaffected as he enjoyed his lasagna, having a second helping along with the Caesar salad he'd practically wolfed down. The others did not seem to be hungry, as the news of the previous Wednesday had been enough to ruin their appetites for days.

"I wish I could have your Olympian detachment, Senator Cerone." said Katherine.

"I learned a long time ago that no matter how bad it seems to be, it won't get any better by not eating." said Cerone. "And I daresay not a single vote will be different if I don't eat lunch today."

"I'm not sure how different things are going to be, even after last week's events." said Justin Madoff. Langdon just stared at him.

"Looks like your friend didn't come through, Katherine." said Cerone, relishing his words as much as the garlic bread he was enjoying. "He ended up dead, and now the Iron Crowbar is a hero on a national scale."

"Not really." said Katherine. "He's getting mentions, but the FBI is not letting the story really get out, because they're working on leads all over the place."

"So what is the real damage here?" said Madoff. "To us? To the State Democrats?"

"Too early to tell." said Langdon, drinking his wine a bit too freely, knowing it was not really too early to tell. "The exposure of Westboro isn't really rubbing off on Jack Lewis, nor on us. But God only knows what might come out over the next month or two as Troy and the FBI keep digging."

"The worst damage is that the Iron Crowbar survived the helicopter crash." said Katherine. "He saved the thousands in the church. All of our work to destroy his reputation is totally gone. And now... my colleagues in my District are scared to death that they could become his next targets."

"I have my people working on damage control for anything that might touch us." said Langdon, meaning himself. "We circled the wagons after that escape from Women's Prison, so I think we're going to be okay. Katherine, I don't know if you can say the same thing."

"I've got a few things up my sleeve that can distract the Iron Crowbar, and maybe even get the Media to start hounding him again." said Katherine. "I'll first have them asking him if he knew that church was rigged with bombs, and if so, why did he let them be in mortal danger by going in there. And then... well, I'll just save that part for later."

"Okay," said Langdon, "we've got a meeting with Jack Lewis and his campaign staff in an hour. Let's decide what we need to tell him..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"I'll tell you guys what the big problem is." said SBI Director Jack Lewis. "The Media has suppressed it so far, but SBI Agent Greenwalt, who was a piece of shit in the first place, was one of the gang that attacked Thaddeus Ward and two of the Iron Crowbar's officers at Ward Harvester. Greenwalt and the other attackers were killed by the Iron Crowbar's SWAT teams, saving Ward and the Officers."

Lewis continued: "If it gets out that Greenwalt, an SBI Agent, was part of an attack on the TCPD, and after that botched disaster raid that killed that US Marine... then we've got problems. It will come back to me. It will hurt my candidacy."

"That's true, sir." said SBI Deputy Director Robert Gaston. "But you had nothing to do with any of that, we know that, everyone knows that. The guy was rogue, and that has to be the line we take."

"That won't do the Director any good." said a campaign staffer. "What I think you need to do is begin an investigation of Greenwalt, so that you can say you have no comment while the investigation is going on. That's what the U.S. Department of Justice does to stall investigations into any criminal operations they've committed."

"Sir, you can also bring up where these situations occurred." said the Queen of Opposition Research, who looked haggard and exhausted. "Keep reminding the voters that it Greenwalt died in the Iron Crowbar's County, as a result of his actions. And the lawful raid on that baby killer Guernica was interfered with by the lawless Iron Crowbar."

If she wasn't so good with research, thought Jack Lewis to himself, I'd fire her in a New York minute. But he couldn't do that, so he chose the patient route.

"Well, we can't do that, Queenie." said Lewis. "The Iron Crowbar's popularity is sky-high right now. He has just defeated one of the deepest criminal syndicates not only in this State but in this Nation. Gaston, do you really mean to tell me that we had absolutely nothing on Westboro and what he was doing?"

"Not a peep, sir." said Gaston. "Not even a suspicion. Until he sent that recording to the First Baptist Church that he was behind putting bombs in there, he was considered halfway a saint. If any of us had accused that man of a crime, he'd have hauled our ass into Court and come out with our pensions going to him to compensate him for the slander done to him. How the Iron Crowbar even detected what he was doing, much less stopped him... is beyond me even now, today."

"So what do we say," said Lewis, "when Jared calls us incompetent for not having any idea about Westboro, much less catching him?"

Katherine Woodburn spoke up. "You can say that their former Police Chief Griswold had no idea about Westboro for years, much less other things going on in that County right under his nose. You can say the FBI didn't have a clue about Westboro, either, and if they bring up the Iron Crowbar, you just say he got lucky and figured it out."

"In other words, Jack," said Jimmy 'Coffin' Cerone, "they can't make much political hay out of it, and the Media will protect you, as well."

"Welp..." said Jack Lewis, "according to my sources, the Iron Crowbar is going to be much too busy working with the FBI on this stuff for at least a month. So use that time to make sure we are clean and clear of any problems, that any issues get buried so that they are never found, and get ready to go full throttle with attacks on Jared. Attacking his puppet Griswold is an excellent idea. We also have the Fourth of July coming up; let's make sure we get my appearances then right, as well."

"Think you should be seen at the Town & County Triathlon?" asked Gaston.

"Well... that might not be a bad idea..." said Lewis...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At that same time, Federal Judge K.M. Landis looked upon the two women in his chambers with skepticism... especially the young woman in Goth leather pants and boots.

"Special Agent Speer," he said to Sandra Speer, "who is this young woman so... unusually attired?"

"I'll handle this." Mary Mahoney Milton said quietly to Sandra. She pulled out her TCPD badge. "This goes with my attire, Your Honor."

"And what is your position with the Police Force?" asked Landis.

"Special Assistant to the Police Commander for I.T." said Mary. "That being Police Commander Donald Troy."

"Oh... him." said the Judge. "Quite a feat he pulled last week."

"And that is why we're here, Your Honor." said Sandra Speer. "We are requesting a warrant to make several arrests. Master Technician Mahoney will walk you through the financial transactions leading from Raymond Westboro to these people...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Louise Belfort of the State Housing Authority was walking to her car after having a late lunch with some of her 'friends', the core of her gang that recruited ex-cons. The death of Raymond Westboro had been shocking, and she had just told her group that their operation would be shut down, and they should consider scattering to the Four Winds.

As she reached for the door handle of her car, she felt something on the back of her neck and heard the words "Don't move. FBI." The words came from Special Agent Sandra Speer, who was holding the gun to the back of Belfort's neck.

As the FBI Agents swarmed, arresting members of her gang inside and outside the restaurant, Belfort was handcuffed, and her mouth was taped shut. There would be no cyanide suicides if the Bureau could help it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Watch Captain Lockhart came to the office of the Warden. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes." said the Warden. "Come on in." Lockhart stepped inside----- *WHAM!*

He was on the ground, held down by several burly FBI Agents as his hands were secured behind his back. Tape was also applied to his mouth.

"Thank you for your help, Warden." said FBI Special Agent Martin Nash. The large contingent of well-armed and -armored FBI Agents hauled their large fish away...

Part 24 - The Consultant of Crime Solution

Monday, June 27th, 5:00pm. On the day I was supposed to be deposed and would have to take the Fifth, thus destroying my case against the Consultant of Crime, I instead was part of a large party at the River Valley Country Club, in the large room where the Hot Wives Investment Club met every month.

Believe it or not, a surprisingly large number of members of the First Baptist Church had a funeral for Raymond Westboro. In a public statement to the Press, they blamed me for his death, and for the destruction of their church. This would be akin to blaming The Batman for The Joker murdering some 600 people, but some people would do that. Sheesh.

There were a lot of people present at River Valley Country Club for the party. All of my Detectives, the Police leadership, a bunch of Uniformed Officers, some Fire Department people including Roy Easley, Jack Muscone's FBI team and other FBI people, SBI Deputy Inspector General Frank Soltis, Warren and Ventura from the City Police, Commissioner Robinson and Lt. Hanson from the Campus Police, members of my family, including Dr. P. Harvey Eckhart, and of course Chief Griswold.

And to my utter shock, Teresa Croyle was there. She was in a wheelchair, being pushed around by either Todd or Cindy, her right arm in a sling and her shoulder immobilized. But she was there.

"Sure you're okay?" I asked her. "You were just in surgery a few days ago."

"And you're going to be in surgery within a year, with that back of yours." Teresa predicted. "But I'm fine. You didn't really think I'd miss this, did you?"

"Remind me to never bet against you, on anything." I said.


"Especially next year's Police Boxing Matches." Teresa replied. I just laughed. Cindy did not. Her ice blue eyes flashed fire.

And the food! My goodness, was that food good and in large quantities. Plenty of beef, including prime rib (!), chicken, and fish, vegetables, rice, potatoes, bread, salads, and other trimmings. And it was all consumed, too.

The Country Club had set up round tables for everyone to sit at, and those were towards the back of the room (if the stage is considered to be the front of the room). I was at the table near the stage, with family: Laura, my mom Phyllis, Todd, Teresa, Cindy, Dr. P. Harvey Eckhart, Molly, Chief Griswold, and of course the kids. I'd asked Paulina to bring Tasha, but she said she might be late, and indeed she slipped in and sat at a back table towards the end of lunch.

"Commander, I have a question." said Joanne Warner, who'd brought up a chair and was holding Ross as she asked. "Did Pastor Westboro ever give you an answer to your question about Jesus and Judas?"

I smiled. "Yes. Yes he did. On the helicopter before he bit down on the cyanide capsule."

"What was his answer?" asked Joanne. "I'm kind of stumped by it."

"His answer was the same as my own thesis." I said. "Let me ask this: Before Jesus could rise from the dead, what did He have to do?"

Joanne looked blank, so I said "He had to die, of course."

Joanne still looked blank. Cindy said "Not much gets by you, Commander." Chief Griswold grunted a laugh.

"He had to die," I continued, after giving Cindy the appropriate withering look, "and not just in a quiet private way... it had to be a public death, such as an execution. Remember that there were many people claiming to be the Messiah in those days. I would add that in Matthew 4, where Satan tempted Jesus, Satan asked Jesus to jump from a building, saying Angels would save Him. So Jesus could not commit suicide, is my thesis from that."

"I never thought of that." said Joanne.

"Let me go further." I said. "Jesus needed to be publicly executed, so He got the Authorities's attention by going to the Temple and overthrowing the moneychangers' tables. And that did get their attention: they were after Him with the intent to kill from that moment on."

"So," I continued, "they went after Him, but as I said, there were plenty of imposter Messiahs at the time. So Iscariot goes to those Authorities, says he'll give them Jesus. And if you think about it, Jesus needed for that to happen. And that is why they put on the act at the Last Supper, then the so-called betrayal. Jesus asked Iscariot to betray Him, and Iscariot did, and the sequence of events played out. I also surmise the Authorities figured it out too late, and retaliated by executing Iscariot by hanging instead of him committing suicide."

"But the Bible doesn't say that." said Joanne.

"The Bible, written hundreds of years later," I said, "was written by the Catholic Church with a deep bias against Jews. They called Iscariot 'Judas', to paste him to the Jews... the German for 'Jews' is 'Juden', so you can see the connection. So the Bible's human authors had intent to make the Jews the bad guys in the execution of Jesus Christ. And my thesis is that they twisted what happened. I certainly don't know if my theory is more correct, but it all comes down to religious belief anyway."

Joanne had a lot to think about, I could tell...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After everyone had eaten, I took a chair to the stage and brought in a bag of stuff. People began migrating themselves and their chairs towards the front. And finally... her patience no longer able to handle it after all these years... Cindy stood up.

*DING!* *DING!* *DING!* *DING!* *DING!* *DING!* *DING!* *DING!*

As the musical sound of spoon ringing glass echoed through the room, a loud acclaim started up... and then the applause began. At first it was a smattering, and before I knew it, the entire room was giving me a standing ovation that just kept on going.

It is a 'human trait' that people appreciate being recognized for a job well done, and I have to admit that I very much enjoyed that ovation. I sat for a moment and absorbed it, then I stood up to acknowledge it, and it just got louder and more prolonged.

Finally, I sat back down and reached into my bag to bring out something as the applause died off and everyone took their seats in a big semi-circle around me.

"Okay, where to start..." I said.

"At the beginning!" yelled Tanya Perlman, who was sitting up and to my right, along with Teresa. Everyone laughed, but I just smiled wryly.

"Actually," I said, "not the Consultant's beginnings... so I'll start at the time I caught on." After a pause, I began:

"There was, about a year and half ago, an unfortunate plane crash at County Airport. It appeared that several FBI Agents were killed in that crash. The good news is that it was all a ruse, a staged theater play, and it was designed to flush out who we thought was the Consultant at that time, the late Henry R. Wargrave. As part of that Federal Government operation, the bodies aboard were those of already-deceased persons."

"Unfortunately, the Enemy saw through the ruse, and rather egotistically let us know that he'd seen through it. But in doing so, he made a tiny slip... a tiny, tiny slip. And it cost him the Game, and his life."

With that, I held up a slip of paper. It was framed, and had a black cloth background. The words on the tiny slip of paper said "DEER me, Mr. Holmes, DEER me."

"Yes." I said. "It was this 'tiny slip', literally as well as figuratively, that brought down Raymond Westboro."

As my prize artifact was passed around for viewing, I said "Now the author of this Government plan considered it a failure, but I kept telling the author as well as the FBI that this was the most successful Federal plan since General Washington crossed the Delaware and took Trenton. It revealed the Truth.

"What happened is that two deer were cremated and the human bodies meant for cremation were taken for the plane crash." I said. "I was called into the Frank Freeman Funeral Home to investigate, as the family of one of those deceased persons had noticed the strangeness of the ashes, and the Funeral Home had noticed their crematory had been used overnight."

"So when I saw this note on a map in Cpt. Ross's office," I said, "I realized instantly that not only was the true Consultant of Crime not Henry Wargrave, I knew who he was! You see, in order to have seen through the ruse, and also to have known how it had been done, he had to have been there, at the Funeral Home."

"I discounted the Funeral Home people, though I checked them out just in case, but they weren't the ones. I discounted the Lawson family as being the farming family and country folk that they were. There was only one person left at the Funeral Home, and that was the person who had gone to the Funeral Home with the family... their pastor, Raymond Westboro."

There were murmurs through the room as the first pieces of the puzzle fell into place for them. I said "So now I had a very strong idea who the real Enemy was. And it was a perfect place to be... pastor of a church, hearing many things from his Church's members as well as other clergy, able to travel on sabbaticals on occasion, connections to Jonas Oldeeds which now had a more sinister reason than just being fellow Men of the Cloth."

I went on: "At that time, a book was left on my desk. There was highlighted a passage from the Conan Doyle stories that 'they set fire to our rooms last night'. And indeed, the Cabin, with me and my family in it, was set on fire. And thanks to one Cindy Ross and her intuition, we escaped with our lives." There were more murmurs as I smiled at Cindy, who smiled back.

"And what this showed me," I said, "was that there were competing forces at work. Wargrave had left a picture of my wife in the book, as a threat to her. That ticked off the Consultant. He had a bad habit of seeing mistakes of his minions as treason, and from that moment on he was throwing Wargrave under the bus, feeding him to the FBI dogs."

"So I knew who the man was," I said, "I could see what he was doing, but at the time I had no proof at all to bring him to trial. Therefore, I set about getting that proof, as quietly as I could, knowing that if he figured it out too soon, he'd try to kill me and my family, and perhaps other Police Officers and FBI friends, as well. I knew he'd stop at nothing: he'd already burned down the Cabin, and I was getting ideas he was responsible for other deaths, as well."

"I did let the FBI know that there was someone besides Wargrave at the helm of this Ship of Evil. And I also set a trap for the rogue CIA group by giving some information at a gathering where the Consultant was among eight possible suspects. Captain Ross and I called it the 'Eightfold Fence'. It was the Consultant that passed along the information to the rogue cell, but fortunately they ran into a truck driven by Takaki Taichi-sama before they could come kill me."