Chapter One floatsom

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

RIP TIDE

by

Robert F. Clifton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright...2014 by Robert F. Clifton

All rights reserved. No part of this book

may be reproduced or transmitted in

any form or by any means without the

written permission from the author

 

 

 

 

The reader is advised that this is a work of fiction and any similarity to places, persons, events or things contained in this book is purely coincidental .

 

R.F. Clifton

 

Dedicated to Cynthia Goldberg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Table Of Contents

 

Chapter One..........Flotsam

Chapter Two..........The Merry Wives

Chapter Three........The Desert Angel

Chapter four...........The Black Dress

Chapter five............Suspect

Chapter Six …..........Independence Day

Chapter Seven........Undercover

Chapter Eight......... Propositioned

Chapter Nine.......... Amalgamated Energy

Chapter Ten........... Private Show

Chapter Eleven....... Trial and Error

Chapter Twelve...... Acid Tongues

Chapter Thirteen.....Squeeze

Chapter fourteen.....Dinner At Eight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

Flotsam

 

Robert Wallace read again the legal papers he held in his hands.

They were the divorce papers ending the marriage of one, Robert Wallace to one, Mary Wagner. He noted that the name, Mary Wagner was

emphasized in the decree stating that she wished to revert to her maiden name. That was fine with him. The property settlement was uncomplicated. The house they had lived in together had been her house. It was only right that she be allowed to keep it, rather than to sell it and split the money. At the same time and in the same way, Robert kept his condominium. Mary did not request or desire alimony. Now, as he folded the document and placed it back in the envelope they were both free. The marriage was over, ending the mistake they both had made together.

He leaned back in the desk chair and thought again of the then, ever present complications that eventually destroyed the marriage.

First of all, just as he had expected, their age difference would be a factor.

He was in his forties, she in her twenties. While he preferred classical music her preference was rock and roll. He, although not quite anti-social did not trust too many people and like most police officers surrounded himself with other law enforcement types. Mary was out going and friendly. Her friends were young women and men who, like her were journalist's and news reporters. It was no secret that Robert Wallace did not like or trust news reporters. At the same time he had to admit that Mary had made every attempt necessary to save the marriage. She had quit the newspaper where she had been a top, investigative, reporter.

Leaving her desired profession she turned to free lance writing, submitting articles and short stories to magazines. Although successful she still longed for the times when she reported a news event, followed it up and put it down on paper. Nonetheless, she had regarded her marriage more important then her line of work. In all, she wanted to be a wife and a mother and when her husband refused to father a child it was the last straw. Mary asked for a divorce. Robert agreed. Now, the marriage was over. Still, they agreed to remain friends.

He opened a drawer and placed the papers inside. Then, he stood up from the cluttered desk and walked between the many cardboard boxes that had been placed on the den floor. The boxes contained what he considered important to him, musical albums and tapes, books on many subjects from American and world history to forensic science and investigative techniques. Somewhere, in some box were a list of unsolved homicide cases from all over the world.

Walking to the glass panel door that opened to the balcony he opened it. When he did a soft, cool breeze entered the room. He took a deep breath, smelling the scent of salt from the ocean carried in the air. From the sixth floor of the building he looked out into the night. In the distance he observed the wave motions of the water as white capped waves rolled gently up and on to the sandy beach leaving a whiten foam as the water retreated again rushing back into the sea. Moonlight illuminated the beach creating what appeared to be a silver strand that extended for miles. A hundred and fifty yards from the waters edge hundreds of people strolled the boardwalk. Merchants hawked their wares, hamburgers, hot dogs, pork roll sandwiches, pop corn, peanuts and the miracle kitchen aids, guaranteed to make the life of the little home maker so much easier. It was the same, year after year. The same people types walking and the same merchants hustling. Wallace closed the door.

At about the same time that Wallace made his observations the fully clad body of a young woman tumbled over and over as the wave action of the ocean tossed her lifeless body like flotsam in the churning water. As the body moved, one high heel shoe came off and sank slowly to the sandy bottom. Her eyes were open as was her mouth. The waterproof wristwatch on her left wrist kept ticking as the lifeless motion of her body activated the self winding Rolex wristwatch allowing it to keep perfect time. Eventually, one large swell created a sizable wave which caught the now half submerged corpse lifting it gently to the surface then carried it to the wet, sandy beach. A second rushing wave moved it again and eventually the deceased woman like a piece of drift wood was deposited on the sands of Nautilus Beach, New Jersey.

The next morning Captain Robert Wallace walked into his office.

He placed the large, white paper bag containing Styrofoam cups of black coffee, stirrers, creamers and a half a dozen doughnuts on his desk then took a seat and waited for the members of the Major Crime Squad to enter, take their traditional office meal and discuss on going investigations. At the same time Wallace reviewed and relayed any new orders or department information relevant to his detectives. Before taking a bite out of a lemon filled doughnut The Captain asked for information on any events that occurred during the previous night. “Anything happen that we should know about?”, he asked looking at those seated in the room.

“I heard when I came in this morning that a body washed up on to the beach”, said Detective McKenna.

“Man or woman?”

“I don't know. All I heard was that the midnight to eight shift district car crew is waiting for a detective and photographer to arrive so they can send the body to the morgue and go home”.

Wallace glanced at his watch noting the time at eight fifteen A.M.

“I can imagine that right about now two patrolmen are bitching and moaning. Alright, sit tight, could be anything, accidental drowning, suicide and if it's a homicide they'll let us know.

At one fifteen P.M. that afternoon the Medical Examiner at the hospital morgue found bruising on the throat and neck of the dead woman. At two P.M. the case of the unidentified victim was officially assigned to the Nautilus Beach Police Departments Major Crime Squad. At two thirty five P.M. Captain Wallace and Sergeant Frank Stiles waited while the morgue attendant pulled back the white sheet covering the woman's body. They gazed upon the now nude body of a Caucasian female. Wallace judged the woman to be in her late teens or early twenties. She had natural, ashen, blond hair and if she had worn it in any particular style it had vanished caused by the time in the salt water. As he gazed upon the body his thoughts were interrupted by a female voice behind him.

“Do you have any questions?”

Wallace turned and saw a woman wearing a white lab coat. She was approximately five feet eight inches tall with jet black hair, dark brown eyes, slender and with an olive complexion and to him, very attractive, For a moment he was lost for words.“I'm sorry. I'm Captain Wallace. I must assume that you are the new Medical Examiner”.

“Yes I am. I am Doctor Wescoat, Emily Wescoat”.

Wallace stuck out his hand in a sign of friendship.

“I don't think shaking hands right at this moment is a very good idea. I still have my gloves on from another examination. I came here just as soon as I heard that you arrived.”

Wallace smiled. “Believe me I completely understand. Doctor I see the bruising on the victims throat. That of course could indicate that the cause of death was strangulation and I'm sure it is. However, I will need to know if drowning could also be the cause of death”.

“ Naturally when I perform a complete autopsy water or the lack of water in the lungs will determine that”.

“Also doctor we would want to know if the victim was involved in any sexual activity, such as intercourse, rape or sexual abuse of any kind”.

“ Actually, I've already conducted an examination and I can tell you The hymen is still intact.”

“Well , until the results of your autopsy are ready I have no other questions. We would like to see her personal effects”.

“Of course. They are in the room next door. I'll have someone show you the way”.

“Thank you doctor, but that won't be necessary. We know where it is”.

“Of course how silly of me. I'm new here, you're not”.

As Wallace stood over the fiberglass box containing the clothes of the young woman in the morgue Stiles removed a notebook and pen from the inside pocket of his blue blazer. The Captain removed a pair of powder blue panties and a matching bra from the container. “ Well, since we now know that sex is not involved we don't need to test these”. Picking up the Rolex wristwatch he whistled. “This baby goes for about seven thousand dollars. It's rose gold.” He moved pantyhose and one black shoe then picked up the still wet black dress. Grains of sand clung to the fabric. He searched for and found a label, “Kalinka” it read.

“Make a note of that dress name. That, along with the Rolex might have some bearing in this case later on”.

“Got it”.

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

Arriving back at headquarters Wallace walked into his office. Stiles followed. Sitting at his desk he looked at the Sergeant and said, “ Read back to me what we did and found at the morgue”.

“Well, we more or less confirmed that the victim was strangled.

We estimate her age to be between eighteen and twenty five years old. At the same time we can assume that sexual activity did not take place during the murder. And, the victim had a very expensive wristwatch”.

“O.K. What was the name of that dress?”, asked Wallace.

Stiles looked at his notepad again. “Kalinka”, he answered.

Wallace leaned forward and pressed the button on the office inter-com. “Carol? Can you come in here please?”

Detective Myers entered the office. “Yes sir?”, she responded.

“What do you know about Kalinka dresses?”

“I know that I'll never own one”

“Why not?”

“Because they're too expensive. They range in price from the hundreds to the thousands of dollars”.

“Really. Very interesting. Right now we have a young female victim who was in possession of a very expensive wristwatch and was wearing a very expensive dress. I have a feeling that one or both of those items could be important in this case. Carol, go to the morgue, gather up all of the victims belongings bring them back here and tag them as evidence. Eventually someone is going to inquire about or claim the body along with her belongings. I don't want possible evidence to be lost”.

“Yes sir. I'm on the way”.

 

 

 

 

Later that day Robert Wallace entered his condo and once again made his way through filled cardboard boxes that still took up room and space on the floor. He took off the light blue sport coat that he wore, walked to the bedroom closet and placed it on a wire hanger. After that he unbuckled his belt and removed the holstered Colt Detective Special revolver and as usual put it on the top shelf of the closet. Walking into the kitchen he opened the freezer door looked inside at the neatly stacked frozen Stouffer Meals, selected a meat loaf dinner, read the heating instructions opened it and placed it in the microwave oven. After entering the time he pushed START, then stood back and waited the required nine and a half minutes. When it was finished he took the meal to the kitchen table and sat down to eat. Just as he was about to take his first bite the telephone on the wall began to ring. Wallace reached back, lifted the receiver placed it to his ear and said, “Hello”.

“Sorry to bother you Captain, but I got all of the belongings of the victim and was turning them over to the Property and Evidence Clerk when I heard a man ask about his missing daughter”.

“And?”

“And I went into the Detective Bureau and stood by while he attempted to make a missing persons report”.

“What do you mean, attempted?”

“When he gave a description of his daughter I realized that he was talking about his daughter”.

“And?”

“ The man is Douglas Harris. The daughter's name is Pauline. What I want to know sir is do you want me to take him to the morgue to see if he can make a positive identification?”

“Good work Carol. Yes, take him to the morgue. If he identifies the girl see if you can make arrangements later to inquire about his daughter”.

“Will do”.

“Wait a minute. Did you safeguard the girls belongings?”

“Yes sir. I even got a receipt”.

Wallace laughed as he replaced the receiver. Turning to his meal he took a fork full of mashed potatoes. “Son of a bitch! The damn things cold.

Damn air conditioner”.

Two days later members of the Major Crime Squad sat quietly waiting for Detective Carol Myers to speak. Wallace looked around the room, then said. “Looks like everyone is here Carol. You can proceed”.

“Thank you Captain. First, I want all of you to know that at this time the parents of the victim are still too distraught over the loss of their daughter and the fact that she was murdered. I was however able to talk to the younger sister and ascertained the following. The victim is known as Pauline Harris. She is a Caucasian female age eighteen. She is also the daughter of Douglas Harris a local attorney and his wife Meridith, a local socialite.

Pauline was born and raised in Nautilus Beach, attended the local schools and graduated from Nautilus Beach High School last year. She enrolled at Rutgers University where her major was Liberal Arts. She was also active in drama. She recently began modeling with the Nautilus Beach Modeling Agency owned by Erica and Derrick Butler”.

“Have you followed up on the modeling agency?”, asked Wallace.

“Not yet sir”.

“Alright proceed”

“Thank you. At the time that the body was discovered she was wearing a Kalinka, black metallic cocktail dress. I researched that particular dress and found that the retail price for that garment is one thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars”.

Myers carefully removed the black dress from a bag marked with the case number. “Here is the dress. Even in this condition once cleaned it would be worth approximately, five or six hundred dollars. And, as you can see, it contains some sand. Quite a bit it seems”.

Wallace looked at the dress being held by Detective Myers. “I wonder what else it contains. Send it to Forensics. Tell them I want a complete microscopic and chemical analysis. In short, every test possible”.

“Yes sir'.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, also found on the body was a Rolex, Rose Gold, self winding wristwatch. I found that the watch was a graduation gift from her parents. And, that's all I have to report at the moment”.

“Does anyone have any questions?”, asked Wallace.

“Yes. Can anyone explain what a metallic dress is?”, asked Tom McKenna.

Myers looked at Captain Wallace. “Go ahead Carol. Right now it looks like you're going to be the lead detective”, he said.

Myers smiled. “A metallic dress or garment is made with a very thin metal strip, such as gold or silver. The wires are then woven into the fabric. Because of the cost of gold, designers are now using copper wire or silver wire. By looking at this dress I'd say that it has mostly copper wire and just a small amount of silver”.

“Is there anything unique?”, asked Wallace.

“Not really. I do notice that the copper and silver wires were braided. Other than that, nothing”.

“Very good. Follow up on the modeling agency and as usual give me your written report”.

“Yes sir”.

After the squad left his office Wallace dialed the number for the lab. He waited patiently for someone to answer. When they did he asked for Lieutenant Campo. In a few minutes he heard her voice. “Lieutenant Campo”.

“June? Wally. Are the photos taken of the dead girl found on the beach printed?”

“Yes. You should have a set by now”.

“Maybe so, but I don't have them”.

“Shoot. I'll get a set right to you. In fact, I'm on my way”.

Ten minutes later, June Campo knocked on the open office door. “That was quick”, he said.

“Sorry about that Captain. It seems you can't get good help these days”.

Wallace smiled. “Have a seat. There are a few things I want to talk to you about”.

Lieutenant Campo sat down from across the desk.

Wallace looked at the black and white photographs, looking, studying them. “This is New Hampshire and the beach, right?”

“Yes sir”.

“And here, on the left side of the body is the rock jetty?”

“Yes it is”.

“Did anyone measure the distance from the body in relation to its position with the jetty?”

“Yes sir. It was exactly thirty seven feet nine inches”.

Wallace smiled as he wrote down the facts. “Excellent. What I want to talk to you about is the cocktail dress we're sending to you for an examination. I want you personally to do the analysis. I know that your people are good, but I also know that you're the best. I don't want to chance loosing a case as the result of a mistake either in the lab or in court. I hope you don't mind”.

“How can I say no? You out rank me and at the same time you compliment me. No problem Captain. I'll see to it”.

“Thanks June”.

“You're welcome.”

After Lieutenant Campo left his office Wallace placed official report paper in his typewriter and began to compose his account of the investigation up to and including the morning briefing. As he sat mentally recalling the events of the investigation his thoughts were interrupted by the ringing telephone on his desk. Lifting the receiver he placed it to his ear then said, “Major Crime Squad, Captain Wallace”.

“Good morning Captain. I am Erica Butler. The talk on the street is that one of our models, Pauline Harris was murdered and that you are directly responsible for the investigation into her death. Is that correct?”

“Yes it is”.

“Excellent. What I am calling about is the fact that Pauline was wearing a very expensive dress. A dress that was provided for her in keeping with her modeling assignment. I was wondering just when the dress will be returned to us”.

“That's hard to say. Right now the dress and other items in the case are now evidence. You could be looking at a year or more”.

“Really?”

“Yes, I'm afraid so”.

“What you don't know is that the dress belongs to someone who

loaned it to our agency and will want it back”.

“And what you don't seem to understand is that the wheels of justice turn very slowly”.

“Please Captain, don't be rude”.

“I didn't know that I was. If so I apologize. However, let me advise you in this matter. If you have a lawyer have him talk with the county prosecutor. Now, unless you have any further questions I'll say good by.

Incidentally, one of our officers will be arriving to ask you and your husband a few questions”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

The Merry Wives

 

Detective Carol Myers took a seat from across the desk of Captain Wallace. Once comfortable she opened a small, blue cover notebook and began to report. “ First, I want you to know that Erica Butler is a bitch and I'm speaking nicely”.

“I got the same opinion when I spoke with her on the telephone”, said Wallace.

“Any way, between her interrupting me about the designer dress and her threats to sue you, the police department and the City of Nautilus Beach I did manage to get her to answer a few questions. First, the Nautilus Beach Modeling Agency is owned and operated by Derrick Butler, her husband and herself. Primarily their function is to supply models along with a fashion show for the wives and daughters attending conventions here in town. The fashion show last about two hours. Each model is paid two hundred dollars an hour, or four hundred dollars per show or day. Of that four hundred dollars the agency takes twenty per cent from the model or eighty dollars. The client pays such expenses such as the room, seating, decorations and so forth. The minimum fee for a fashion show with five models is five thousand dollars”.

“Interesting”, said Wallace.

“Wait it gets even better. The five models are all local house wives.

All, financially established in their marriages. It appears that all of them work as models as a side job, or activity. For instance, Mary Ann Bell, is married to Harvey Bell, C.E.O. of the Regional Bank here in town. Charlotte Devine is Married to Doctor James Devine a dentist. Hilda Speck is married to Doctor Howard Speck, physician. Martha Hanes is married to John Hanes, stock broker and Amanda Wells is married to Harry Wells. Lawyer. At the same time all of these women are involved in local society, garden clubs, benefits and charities. In short, none of them need to work at any job or profession let alone model”.

“Are they really attractive enough to be models?”, asked Wallace.

“Oh yes. Each woman is captivating in their own way. For instance. Mary Ann Bell was second runner up in the Miss New Jersey Pageant.

She was offered a position with a top agency using photographer models.

“How old are these women?

“Between thirty two and thirty six. Interesting that you brought up their age Captain. It appears that longevity is very short in the profession. So much so, that Erica Butler did say that conventioneers are now requesting teenage models for the fashion shows because more and more of their younger daughters are attending the conventions. Actually, that is why Pauline Harris was hired”.

“Just Pauline?”

“It's my understanding that Pauline was the third young woman hired. Two others quit”.

“Do we know why?”

“Not yet”.

“Do we know who they are?”

“Again, not yet.

“O.K. what about the Butlers?”

“Both came out of Philadelphia. We're checking with the police there. Also we will be contacting N.C.I. C. ( National Crime Information Center).

“Alright stay on it. If you need anything let me know. Meanwhile Myers, good work”.

“Thanks Cap.”

After Myers left the office Wallace made written notes on the yellow blue lined paper tablet on his desk, notes that he would transcribe later in an official report. As he did the telephone rang and he answered it. “Major Crime Squad, Captain Wallace”.

“Hello Captain. This is Doctor Wescoat. I thought you would like to know the results of the autopsy so far on Pauline Harris”.

“Of course. At the moment I want to know if she drowned”.

“The answer to that is, no. I did not find any water or any signs of water in her lungs”.

 

“Then I assume the cause of death was strangulation”.

“Yes, but there's more and I do believe that what I found in addition might be beneficial to your investigation.”

Wallace hesitated before speaking, then said, “ May I suggest that we get together this evening and discuss your findings over dinner?”

“Excuse me Captain, but I'm under the opinion that you are a married man”.

“Who told you that?”

“I have my sources”.

“Then contact you sources and let them know that I'm divorced”.

“Really?”

“Tell you what, if you accept my dinner invitation I'll bring my divorce papers for you to read. Is it a date?”

Wallace listened to the laugh in her voice. “Let's call it a dinner engagement instead of a date”.

“Then you accept?”

“Yes”.

“Excellent. Now, what time should I arrive at you residence and where do you prefer to dine?”

“Let's meet at seven o'clock at the Chelsea Apartments and I'll leave the restaurant up to you”.

“Seven o'clock it is. See you then”.

“Good by”.

At seven thirty eight P.M. Wallace escorted Doctor Emily Wescoat through the open door of the Beachcomber Restaurant held open by the doorman, Jimmy Collins. “Good evening Captain, said Jimmy as he tipped his hat to the Doctor”.

“Hello Jimmy. I'll see you on the way out”.

“Yes sir. Enjoy your dinner”.

The couple walked up to the Maitre d's stand. “Captain Wallace. How good to see you again sir. It's been a while. Your table is ready and I hope you and the lady enjoy your dinner”.

After they were seated and had ordered drinks Doctor Wescoat peered over the top of the menu she held in her hands and said, “It appears that you are well known here”.

Wallace smiled. “Here, there and everywhere. I was born and raised in this town and I have always enjoyed fine dining. As a result I'm known in most restaurants, doughnut shops and hot dog stands. So, before we order let's discuss your findings with the autopsy”.

Emily placed the menu on the table then, looking at Wallace said, “We both know that Pauline Harris was strangled. We easily came to that conclusion by the contusions on her neck and throat. My examination found definite signs of asphyxiation. There was pin point hemorrhages

in the skin known as petechiae. This can be found in the conjunctiva of the eyes and deep internal organs. Petechiae can also be found in any case of asphyxiation, hanging, drowning, profound depressant drug intoxication.

I have already informed you that I found no signs of drowning as the cause of death, even though the victim had been submerged in water.”

“You mention drugs, are you finished with the toxicology exam?”, asked Wallace.

“Yes. There are no signs of narcotics or alcohol.”

“What's next?”

“As you know in strangulation cases the assailant uses the pressure of the thumbs. The fingers therefore complete the full hand grasp. I found ligature abrasions about the neck”.

“Is that it?”

“No. I want to examine the hyoid bone and larynx”.

“What's stopping you?”

“Right now you are. I suggest that you have someone photograph the bruises on the throat. Once that is done I can surgically removed the larynx and hyoid”.

“Photographs were taken”.

“Yes, I know. I was there. Nonetheless, no close up photo's were taken”.

“Do you believe that the hyoid bone is fractured?”

“I don't know and won't know until I see it”.

“Anything else?'

“Yes. I found traces of skin cells under her fingernails”.

“I examined her fingernails myself. I didn't see anything”.

“I said traces of skin cells. One can only see them under a microscope.”

“Son of a bitch”.

“I hope you are not referring to me”.

“Of course not. I'm referring to myself for missing it'.

“Don't blame yourself. As I mentioned the cells are microscopic. Which brings me to another problem”.

“That being?”

“That being that I made two slides. Two slides that in all probability will be used as evidence in court if and when you make an arrest. I have naturally used fixation to preserve the tissue however, we're talking about very thin, glass that can be damaged. My question is do I give them to you, the prosecutor or hang on to them where I know they are safe?”

“I really don't know doctor”

“Emily, and I intend to call you Robert, unless we're in public”.

“That's a deal. Now, let's order dinner and while we eat you can tell me all about yourself”.

“Since you are the home town boy what do you recommend?”

“Are you in the mood for meat or fish or both?”

“Fish”

“Then I suggest the Crab Au Gratin”.

“Sounds good”.

“Wine?”

“If you want it”.

“You're very accommodating”.

“And, that's about as much accommodating as I'm going to get this evening”.

“Wallace laughed as he signaled the waiter.

After taking a sip of white wine Wallace said. So, Emily, tell me all about yourself leaving out the fact that you're a pathologist at the local hospital”.

“Well, I'll start by saying I was born and raised in Waterloo, Iowa.

After graduation from high school I enrolled at Miami of Florida University. Studied pre med, then medicine, graduated, was offered a professorship to teach medicine there but turned it down”.

“Why?'

“ Bad pay. The only benefit was a reduced price given to faculty members for football games. I took a position at the Veterans Hospital in Wilmington, Delaware. There, I got interested in pathology so I went back to school so to say and caught up with what I needed to know about that branch of medicine. One thing led to another and when I saw an ad placed for a position here in town I applied for it. And, here I am”.

“And, that's it. Nothing more?”

“What else do you want to know?”

“Mother and father?”

“Both dead”

“Brothers and sisters”.

“I'm the only child”

“Husbands, fiance' and or boyfriends?”

“No husbands, no boy friends and fiance' killed in Korea”.

“I'm sorry”.

“So am I, but life goes on”.

“And, what do you think of life here on the island of Nautilus Beach?”

“Too crowded with tourist types. Most of all there is a complete lack of the arts. I miss concerts, dance and fine art museums”.

“Son of a bitch!”

“There you go again. You use that expression quite often”.

“Sorry. I was just thinking that I feel exactly the same when it comes to the arts here. I usually travel to Philadelphia or New York in order to see or hear something artistic. And, to find someone with the same outlook is great”.

“Then, I assume I'll have to do the same”.

“Perhaps I can introduce you to the concerts held in Hopewell”.

“Perhaps”

“Well. At least you didn't say no. What are some of your other interests?”

“Let's see. Walks in the woods in Autumn when the leaves on the trees are turning and there is just a hint of cold in the air. At times solitude alone with my thoughts, ideas, plans. A good book, trying new recipes. Things like that.”

“Interesting”.

“Really? I've always considered my lifestyle to be rather boring”.

“ On the contrary I would say that you lead a very full filling lifestyle”.

“And you base your opinion on what?”

“The fact that my lifestyle is practically the same”.

“Let's talk about you. How long have you been a police officer?”

“Fifteen years”.

“Then. I assume you enjoy it”.

“Everyday”.

“No adversity?”

“Oh yeah, politicians, news reporters, lawyers, the corruption in everyday life and the mistakes I've made and continue to make with my life”.

“Such as?”

“Such as getting shot”

“Oh dear. How bad was it?'

“Not too bad. The shot hit me in the hip. I can still walk”.

“Any complications?”

“The doctors seem to think that the pain I experience from time to time closely resembles sciatica”.

“Do you take any medication for it?”

“Two aspirin. If it's really annoying, two aspirins and a shot of whiskey.”

“I get the impression that you are very sure of yourself”.

“If you mean by that that I'm secure in my profession and life then you are correct”.

“That's exactly what I mean”.

“Then thank you for the complement”.

“You are quite welcome. Let's get back to the autopsy. I might need your help before I proceed”.

“In what way?'

“In order to remove and examine the hyoid correctly the larynx as well as the tongue must be removed. Should this information reach the parents of the victim I would need you to explain why the procedure is necessary”.

“Why can't you do it?”

“I've learned from experience that in many cases the pathologist is viewed as someone who takes great delight in dissecting the human body.

Case in point, think about how many families refuse an autopsy being conducted on loved one's that die accidentally or for unknown reasons”.

“How about taking the position of what they don't know won't hurt them?

“It doesn’t always work that way, The loved one's attend the inquest or trial. The pathologist is questioned on the procedures they preformed and when they hear for the first time what was done they take the view that the body was mutilated. I've seen it time after time”.

“Pauline Harris father is a lawyer. I'm sure that he is aware of the pathologist role in this investigation. I haven't met him yet, but if the subject arises I will explain what was necessary on the medical end of the investigation”.

“Thank you Robert”

“You're welcome. However, I have a question”.

“And, that is?”

“What happens if you find that the hyoid is not fractured?”

“Then, I look for what is known as cardiac arrhythmia. That's caused by pressure on the carotid artery nerve ganglion, causing cardiac arrest.”

“Interesting”.

“Do you really think so? Either way my examination should prove that strangulation was the cause of death. Now, if you don't mind let's eat. I'm hungry and the crab dish looks inviting”.

“Bon appetite”.

“And I'll have just a bit more wine”.

 

The next morning, as usual Wallace met with his staff. When no one offered any new information in relation to the Harris case he decided to move on with what information and evidence he had. Looking at those seated in his office he said, “ I want the women that are models for The Nautilus Beach modeling Agency interviewed. I want it done discreetly and in their homes if possible, not at headquarters”.

“Why the kid glove approach Cap?”, asked Stiles.

“Because we're dealing with high society types. I don't need to listen to a lot of horseshit from politicians or the news media saying how we are labeling these prominent housewives as suspects in a homicide investigation. At the same time bring one in and their lawyer will be sitting next to her in five minutes time. When that happens we get nothing. The others will do the same, fall back on their attorney's who will answer the door when you ring the bell. I want the interview and questioning done in their homes where they should be relaxed and not feel threatened. Be careful. Don't press any issues. At this time we and make that I, want to know about the two teenage women that were hired as models but quit. I want to know their names, address and most important where they are now and why they left. Myers is the lead investigator in this case. She'll co-ordinate who interviews which woman. If you run into any problems let me know. Incidentally Carol is their anything back on the Butlers yet?”

“No”

“Not even N.C.I.S.?”

“No sir”.

“Son of a bitch. Alright, all of you, get moving.”

Approximately a half an hour after the detectives left Captain Wallace looked up to see a well dressed man standing at the office door.

“Can I help you?”, asked Wallace.

“I'm looking for a Captain Wallace”, said the man.

“You found him. I'm Captain Wallace. What can I do for you?”

“Captain, I am Douglas Harris. I'd like to talk to you about my daughter”.

“Of course sir. Please come in and at this time may I offer you my condolences on the death of your daughter Pauline”.

“Thank you”.

“May I ask how your wife is doing at this time?”

“Not well. Not well at all”.

“That's understandable. Please relay my sympathy. Now, what can I do for you?”

“You can tell me who murdered my daughter”.

“Mr. Harris I have been informed that you are an attorney and I'm sure you know that cases like this take time. Right now your daughters case is just a little over seventy two hours old, but I can assure you that we are working diligently. As a matter of fact detectives are out in the field right now questioning possible witnesses relating to the investigation”.

“Is there anything that I can do?”

Wallace leaned back in the high back , black leather chair. “Yes sir. You can fill me in on certain things about your daughter. Her likes and dislikes, hobbies, boyfriends and girlfriends. Tell me who she associated with and how she became a model working for The Nautilus Beach Modeling Agency”.

“Pauline was a typical teenage girl. She liked romance novels and movies, rock and roll music, cheeseburgers and french fries dipped in apple vinegar. Her best friend would be, I'd have to say her sister, Alison.”

“And, how old is Alison??”,asked Wallace.

“Sixteen”.

“Go on”.

“Pauline had no steady boyfriend. She dated occasionally, but never got involved in any serious romance or fling. I believe that her real ambition was to be an actress. In case you didn't know, her minor at Rutgers was drama”.

“I see”.

“I also believe that she saw modeling as a stepping stone to acting. You know how young people are. They read about the success of some actor or actress who got their start in show business by modeling and they think that it's the quick way to get what they want. Anyway, her mother and I talked to her until we were blue in the face about not getting involved in modeling, but what could we do? Pauline was eighteen, legally

able to do what she wanted. And, she did”.

“Not to change the subject Mr. Harris, but we are in possession of

your daughters wristwatch. At this time it has no bearing on the case. I will have photo's taken of it and then return it to you. Just give me a day or two”.

“Take your time Captain. The watch was a present on her graduation day from high school. I'm sure her sister would like to have it”.

“I'm sure”

“My next question is when can we have her body? Funeral arrangements have to be made”.

“I think the medical examiner is still conducting postmortem tests. I'll see what I can do to speed things on their way”.

“I see. Then an autopsy is being conducted?”

“Yes sir”.

“I understand, but please don't let this information reach the ears of my wife and daughter”.

“I'll do my best Mr. Harris”.

“Thank you Captain”.

“You're welcome sir”.

When Douglas Harris left the office Wallace reached for the telephone on his desk. He lifted the receiver, dialed a number and listened to the ring tone on the other end of the line. “Morgue, Doctor Wescoat”.

“Doctor. Captain Wallace. I just spoke to Pauline Harris father. He is aware of the autopsy, but wants the fact that one is being conducted quiet. At the same time he wants his daughters body. When can you release it?”

“I'll stay late and remove the hyoid and examine it. I should be able to release her body tomorrow or the next day. It depends if I find anything that requires further study”.

“Then, I'll wait to hear from you”.

“Fine. In the mean time find out what mortuary I should contact”

“I will do just that. Thanks”.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, but you won't want to hear it”.

“Good by Captain”.

“Good by Doctor”.

At three thirty in the afternoon Detective Tom McKenna was the first investigator to return to headquarters. When he did he entered the Captain's office.

Wallace looked up from the paper files he was working on and asked, “How did you make out?”

“I met with Amanda Wells. She was very co-operative. According to her all of the women involved in modeling do so more or less as a hobby. They have known each other for years, went to school together, attend the same church and belonged to the same sorority. According to Mrs. Wells, Erica Butler is the boss. She sets up the fashion shows with the clients request. Most of the business is with conventions that come to town. It seems that Derrick Butler, is the go-for. He drives the models to the show, carries in all of the fashions they are going to exhibit and runs errands.

I asked Mrs. Wells about the teenagers that were hired by the Butler's. What we heard she substantiated. There was an increase of requests by clients for younger models and teenage fashions.

When asked who these young women were Mrs. Wells could only remember two young women, Angela Rodman and Pauline Harris. Naturally ,she knew about the Harris murder, but here's the best part.

According to her Angela Rodman is a singer known as “The Desert Angel” and she's working at the Timbuktu Dinner Club on Sebastian Island, right

across the bridge”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

The Desert Angel

 

When they had entered the Timbuktu Dinner Club Wallace had asked to speak to the manager. When he met the man he identified himself and the detective with him and requested to meet with Angela Rodman, the Desert Angel, the headline singer at the club. Now ,seated at a table next to the dance floor Captain Wallace and Detective Myers dined on lamb kebabs and hummus as they waited for Angela Rodman to appear, finish her set and become available to answer some questions.

Like many entertainers appearing where food is served The Desert Angel waited until all dishes and silverware was removed from patrons tables. That way she was assured busboys and the noise they created clearing tables did not interfere with her music and the attention of the paying customers.

With the room near absolute quiet a deep, male voice came over the sound system. “Ladies and Gentlemen. The Timbuktu Dinner Club is proud to present for your entertainment, Miss Angela Rodman, The Desert Angel.”

A man at a piano began to play. As Wallace listened he was impressed with the talent of Angela Rodman. She had a beautiful voice and her act had elegance, so much so that she received a standing ovation from the diners, including Robert Wallace. The only thing lacking was a live orchestra.

Twenty minutes later, a waiter appeared at their table and Wallace was told that Miss Rodman would see them in her dressing room. Captain Wallace and Detective Myers followed the waiter down a narrow, dark, hallway. Then, they stopped in front of a wooden door which had gray paint peeling off of one panel. The waiter knocked, was told to enter then showed the police officers into the dressing room.

Angela Rodman was now dressed in blue jeans and a gray sweatshirt. She sat barefooted at her dressing table, smiled and said, “You must be Captain Wallace”.

“That I am and may I introduce Detective Carol Myers”.

“Hi. Now, what do you want to talk to me about?”

“I'll get right to the point. I'm sure that you are aware of the murder of Pauline Harris”.

“Only what I read in the newspapers”.

“Our information is that Pauline occasionally modeled for the Nautilus Beach Model Agency and that you were also modeling with them about the same time”.

“Yes, I was”.

“What can you tell us about Pauline?”

“Not too much. She was attractive, intelligent, but still a kid”.

“What do you mean by that?”, asked Myers.

“You know, naive, too trusting”.

“Anything else?”, asked Wallace.

“No. I can't remember even having a long conversation with her. We would see each other when Derrick picked us up or when we changed back stage for the show. We weren’t even friends, just acquaintances, two people on the job. That's all”.

“We have information that there was another young woman hired and working about the same time you and Pauline were together. Do you know who she is?”

“Sure. That would be Patricia Baker. Her and I were hired about the same time. We worked maybe three conventions and she up and quit”.

“Do you know why she quit?”

“Not really. I do remember that when she did ,her parting words to me was, “Watch your ass”.

“Do you happen to know where Miss Baker is right now?”

“The last I heard she was a black jack dealer at one of the casino's in Las Vegas”.

Myers wrote that piece of information in her notebook then asked, “When was the last time you saw Pauline Harris?”

“I don't really know. I do remember that she was having an argument of some kind with Derrick”.

“Do the models have a problem with Derrick?

“Not really. Erica is the boss, so much so that she has him doing menial tasks. I got the impression that he resented what he had become and tried to exert his manhood at the girls to project a macho image”.

“Did he do that with the older models?”

“Not that I know of. As I recall they got along fine with him”.

“Interesting. One more question. Why did you leave the agency?”

“Money. Modeling paid me maybe two hundred dollars a show. I had to kick back to Erica. There aren't too many conventions that want fashion shows, so that means work wasn't steady. As a singer I make three hundred dollars a night. I sing five nights a week. Do the math”.

“And, may I say you are an excellent vocalist. Thank you for your co-operation. Carol do you have any other questions?”

“No sir”.

“Fine, now on the way out I'll pay the dinner bill”.

On the drive back to Nautilus Beach Wallace looked at Carol and said,

“ Follow up on Patricia Baker. Start with the Nevada Gaming Control or Commission. See if you can find out where she's working. If you have any problem with them then contact the Las Vegas P.D.”

“Now, or first thing in the morning?”

“Morning is fine, just remember the time difference”.

Wallace walked into his condo. Tossed the unmarked radio car keys on top of his desk and saw the blinking red light of his telephone answering machine. He pushed the PLAY button. When he did he heard the voice of Doctor Wescoat. “Sorry I missed you. Anyway I checked the hyoid. It is fractured. Just wanted you to know. Oh, and by the way I can release the body to the parents just as soon as you tell me where they want it. Bye”. He waited for the second message to play. When it did he heard, “I'm sorry. I forgot to give you my number. It's 609-243 0809. Bye.”

Removing his holstered revolver he placed it on top of the desk then dialed Emily Wescoat's telephone number. He listened to her phone ring four times and then she answered. “Hello”.

“Hello yourself. I'm just returning your call”.

“Then you know about my findings in relation to the hyoid bone”

“Yes and as far as what mortuary the Harris family wants the body sent to I'm afraid that will have to wait until tomorrow morning. I could call them this evening, but I still think it can wait. I'm sure the body is refrigerated”.

“Certainly. Anything else?

“How did you get my telephone number here at my home?”

“I had to call the Assistant Prosecutor, Theodore Watkins. Remember our conversation about the slides I made of the skin tissue I found under Pauline's fingernails?”

“Yes”.

“Well, it seems that I, as the County Medical Examiner should keep them as evidence, safe guard them until further orders. At the same time I informed him about my findings regarding the hyoid. He suggested that I inform you right a way. I asked for and he gave me your number. I hope that you're not upset about me calling”.

“Not at all. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you called”.

“Were you engaged in business or pleasure?”.

“Business. Had to interview a possible witness”.

“I see. Well, I'll wait for your call in the morning”.

“Bye”.

“Good bye”.

The next morning Wallace got out of the unmarked car in the headquarters parking lot. When he did he entered a steady downpour of summer rain. Occasional lightning raced across the slate covered sky and the sounds of thunder followed each strike. Clutching the traditional white paper bag containing coffee and doughnuts he began to run towards the automatic doors of the building. He soon realized that running was a mistake as he feet splashed water from large puddles that had accumulated on the asphalt parking lot surface drenching the lower part of his trousers. At the same time his shoes, socks and feet were wet. “Son of a bitch!”, he said out loud.

Fearful that the torrent of rain would cause the paper bag to disintegrate he unbuttoned his blazer and placed the bag and its contents next to his body keeping it dry. Then, with water soaking his hair and dripping down his face he finally made it into the building. Just as he did a flash of lightning and an extreme clap of thunder occurred and he turned back to see that the lobby lights had gone off. “Dirty bastard! Now I've got to walk up three flights of stairs. You won't get my ass on an elevator during an electric storm”, he said aloud.

Out of breath caused by all of the years that he had smoked he entered his office and placed the now, damp bag on his desk. Taking off the wet blazer he then made his way to the men's room on the third floor. Once there he took paper towel after paper towel from the dispenser on the wall and dried his head, face and hands. After combing his hair he walked back to his office listening to the squishing sound his wet shoes and feet made as he crossed the tile floor. “Hell of a way to start a morning”, he muttered to himself.

When he entered his office he found the squad members already eating doughnuts and drinking coffee. Frank Stiles looked at Wallace and said, “Cap. It looks like you were shot at and missed, then shit at and hit”.

“Damn storm. I got a wet ass. How come none of you are wet?”

“Probably because we sat in our cars until the rain let up”, said Myers.

“No one likes a smart ass woman”, said Wallace with a laugh.

“Is there anything new on the case?”, asked Sergeant Stiles.

“Yes, but first let me hear what Charlotte Deviny had to say. You did interview her didn't you?”

“Yes sir. While you were drying off down the hall I compared notes with Tom. Basically she had the same thing to say as Mrs. Bell. All of the women are friends, church goers and are known in local society. Nothing new”.

“Then, while I was drying off I assume Carol told you about Angela Rodman”.

“Yep, she sure did”.

“Alright, bring your reports up to date and submit them. Carol, make sure you call Vegas. Make the call about one this afternoon”.

At nine fifteen a.m. Wallace dialed the number of Douglas Harris legal office.

“Harris and Martin. How may I help you?”, asked a woman who answered the telephone.

“This is Captain Wallace of the Nautilus Beach Police Department. I'd like to speak to Mr. Harris, please”.

“One moment please”.

There was a short wait then Harris came on line. “Captain, how can I help you?”

“I received word that the Medical Examiner is finished with her tests and is ready to release the body to you. Could you tell me which undertaker you are going to use?”

“Certainly, Jeffries and Keys. May I ask if there is anything new in your investigation?”

“Yes, we're making progress. Cases like this take time. I hope you understand”.

“I'm sorry, but her death is constantly on our minds. We're anxious for answers and the arrest of whoever did this”.

“Rest assure that we want the same thing Mr. Harris”.

“Thank you for calling. Good day”.

Wallace pushed the button on the telephone cradle, listened for the disconnect, then the dial tone and then dialed the number for the hospital morgue.

“Doctor Wescoat”.

“Good morning'.

“How are you?”

“Wet”

“Why?”

“I got caught in the rain”.

“Wasn't that a wicked storm this morning? I sat in my car for ten minutes until it passed”.

“I'm not that smart. Anyway I'm calling to let you know that you can notify Jeffries and Keys mortuary that they can pick up the body of Pauline Harris. I just got off the telephone with her father”.

“How is your investigation going?”

“We're chipping away at it, little by little hoping something turns up that gives us a major breakthrough”.

“Well, at least today is Friday. You can take a break from working on it. What are your plans for the weekend?”

“I've got about ten, full, cardboard boxes filled to the top with things that need to be put on shelves, in drawers or finally discarded and thrown away. Hopefully I'll get that done in the next two days”.

“I'd love to see that”.

“See what?”

“You, being domestic”.

“Well, in that case then you always have a standing invitation”.

“Where is your condo?'

“The Albany Arms, sixth floor number 665. They tried to give me 666, but I wouldn't go for it”.

“They probably thought it was appropriate”.

“I'm sure. So, what are you doing this weekend?”

“Oh let's see, laundry, vacuuming, scrubbing the shower, lot's of fun things. Then, of course I might visit you”.

“You have to be definite”.

“Why?”

“If I know that you're definitely showing up I'll dust and vacuum the rugs. Plus, I'll need to shave”.

“You're too much. I think I'll keep you guessing. Got to go now. Bye”.

“Bye”.

At one thirty in the afternoon Detective Myers walked into the Captains office. “I just got off of the telephone with the Nevada Casino Control. Patricia Baker is a black jack dealer at a place called, Dangerous Dan McGrew's Casino, “ she said.

“Sounds like a sawdust casino”, Wallace replied.

“What's a sawdust casino?”

“That's the name they give the small, low operating casino's. They seldom have entertainment, hotel rooms or eating facilities. You go their just to gamble, play cards or slots. Maybe one or two of them might have a bar”.

“Anyway, that's where Patricia Baker is working”.

“Good. Have you ever been to Las Vegas?”, asked Wallace as he bent over and opened the safe that was on the floor adjacent to his desk.

“No sir”.

Wallace reached inside the safe and removed an envelope. Taking a credit card from the yellow wrapper he handed it to Myers, closed the safe door, and spun the dial. “Well, you're going there now. Go back to your desk, call the airlines and make reservations for a round trip between Philadelphia and Vegas. I suggest that you book a flight with stop overs, unless you want to spend a lot of hours in a sitting position. Then, reserve a hotel room where ever you want to stay. You're allowed three meals a day. Anything else you pay for out of your own pocket. So, don't get carried away. If you want to gamble use your own money. Now, and most important I'm assigning you there for three days. That should be more than enough time to find Miss Baker and question her. Should you decide that you like it there ,and believe me you will like it there and want to spend more time, say two or three more days, call me. Those extra days you pay for with your own money or credit card and when you come back you fill out a vacation card for the days used and I'll sign it. Understand?”

“Yes sir”.

“One more thing. You fly week days. I'm not paying weekend rates at hotels. See you when you get back”.

“Thanks Cap”.

“For what, more work?”

Twenty minutes later Tom McKenna knocked on the open door. “Can I talk to you Captain?”, he asked.

“Sure, what about?”

“I don't think it's a good idea to send Myers to Vegas by herself”.

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, she's a woman. She'll be in a strange town where there are probably a lot of weirdo's”.

“There are weirdo's in every town. I bet you think you should go with her”.

“Yes sir.

“Very well, you can go with her all the way to the airport. Drive her up there and pick her up on the day she comes back. In case you haven't noticed Myers is a big girl. She's also a police officer. If she can't protect herself from weirdo's then she has no business on the force. But, hey, I'll give you E for effort. Nice try. Now, get back to work”.

Myers came back with her itinerary typed including her flight, airline, flight numbers, and hotel reservations. “I decided to stay at Caeser's, if that's alright with you”, she said.

“Fine, no problem. Find Patricia Baker. Question her on what she knows about the Butlers and their operation and have fun. I mean it. Have a nice time And, get receipts”

Wallace spent Saturday unpacking the accumulation of cardboard boxes that he packed and brought with him when he left Mary's house. He finally placed the books on the walnut shelves that were built into the wall of his combination living room, office and den. While he worked the stereo played songs by Mantovani and he had to make two trips on the elevator taking the now empty boxes to the trash dumpsters behind the building.

At ten thirty that morning he stopped, poured himself a cup of coffee and walked to the glass panel folding doors. He opened them and looked out at the white, sandy beach. People had already arrived, opening beach umbrellas and beach chairs, placing them in an on the sand.

Others simply spread blankets or beach towels to sit or lay on. The sun was still rising. Two seagulls glided slowly over the shoreline searching for a meal. A few bicycle riders were on the boardwalk riding in violation of the city ordinance that called for riders to be off of the walk by ten a.m.

Wallace closed the doors, turned and looked at the rug that needed

vacuuming. He wished that Esmeralda was still working for him. He had to let her go when he got married. Now, his former maid was working for someone else making it necessary to find another woman to clean his condo and do his grocery shopping. Right now he wasn't in the mood to look for and interview anyone .. Eventually he would get around to it. Besides, it was summer which meant that most good maids were working the hotels for the season. After labor day the lay offs would begin. He figured he could wait until then. At least he had kept the same woman who did his laundry, in particular, his shirts.

He walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer door. Peering inside he saw that there were only two items, a package of Stouffer's Cream Dried Beef and a small pizza. He wasn't in the mood to eat either.

“Guess I'll have to go out”, he said aloud as he closed the freezer door.

Going out, meant getting changed and dressed. Going out meant either eating at a restaurant or shopping for groceries. He wasn't in the mood to do either. Instead he walked back into the den, sat down at his desk and after picking up the telephone directory turned to the yellow pages and after finding the ad that read “Sonny's, Best Subs In Town, we Deliver, he picked up the receiver and dialed the number.

“Sonny's Subs. Is this a delivery?”, asked a guy who answered the phone.

“Yes”

“Your name and address please.”

“Robert Wallace. Albany Arms Condominiums, unit 665”

“And your telephone number?”

Wallace gave his number.

“Very good Mr. Wallace what would you like to order?”

“I want a whole, Italian sub made with provolone cheese and a Tasty Kake lemon pie”.

“That's it? Would you like a soft drink to go along with the sandwich?”

“Sounds good. Send me a liter of Pepsi”.

“That's one whole Italian sub with provolone cheese, a Tasty Kake lemon pie and a liter of Pepsi Cola. That will be ten dollars and forty five cents. Our man should be there in about forty or forty five minutes”.

“Thank you”, he said. He then placed the receiver back on the cradle, got up from the desk and walked into his bedroom. There he took fifteen dollars out of his wallet and put the money in his pocket. As he did he looked at the still, unmade bed. He decided to leave it that way, after all he was going to climb into it later that evening anyway. Besides leaving it as is allowed the bedding to air out. He hated to make the bed. He always left that chore for the maid. Oh, how he missed her.

Back in the den he took a seat in his recliner; picked up the remote, turned on the television and channel surfed. He went through every channel twice and in disgust turned it off. There wasn't anything on of interest to him. Besides, it was the weekend, daytime and summer all when put together didn't allow for too much entertainment. On top of that the Phiilles were playing on the west coast which meant their game wouldn't be on until eleven pm.

He needed something to occupy his mind. If he didn't he knew what would happen. The homicide case would enter his thoughts. His mind would spin recalling what he knew then reminding him of what he didn't know. Question after question would form in his psyche, questions that would continue to obsess as he tried to find answers. Through experience he knew that investigating a homicide was like doing a jigsaw puzzle. You first had to find and identify the pieces then put those pieces together so that they fit, then when they all came together you had the complete picture. Right now he only had a couple of pieces that were the beginning of the border. He needed more. He couldn't get impatient. If that happened he could possibly make mistakes, overlook something. At the same time he was the unit commander. He had to lead, make assignments, use the qualifications of his detectives, listen to them, weigh their opinions and if they're right act on them. Most of all he had to be right. To be wrong meant loosing their respect.

Comfortable in the recliner he dozed off. How long he had been asleep he didn't know, but he woke with a start when his telephone rang.

Still, half asleep he said, “Hello”.

“Captain, this is George. The sandwich delivery man is here.”

“Send him up”, Wallace said to the doorman.

When the doorbell rang Wallace opened it, handed the deliveryman fifteen dollars told him to keep the change then took the sandwich and bottle of Pepsi into the kitchen. There after unwrapping the sub he placed one half on a paper plate and then re-wrapped the remaining half placing it in the refrigerator for later. He then placed three ice cubes in a tall glass, open the soft drink bottle and poured the beverage slowly, allowing for the foam caused by the carbonation to dissipate.

When he finally sat down to eat it was then that he realized that he forgot to order potato chips “son of a bitch”, he muttered aloud.

The next morning, Wallace got out of bed walked into the kitchen and pushed the button on the coffee maker. While the brew dripped slowly into the Pyrex pot he shaved then showered, got dressed and walked barefoot back into the kitchen. Fortunately he had two pieces of stale bread and he put them in the toaster. That along with the coffee would be his breakfast.

He walked to the front door of his condo opened it, bent down and picked up the Sunday paper then carried it back into the kitchen. As usual he started by reading the sports section first. Local news would be read next, world news last. He only read the world news in order to see who the United States was at war with currently.

Out of boredom he decided to vacuum the rugs in the living room and bedroom and when he was finished made the bed. Satisfied that he got the place looking at least liveable he poured himself another cup of coffee and walked back into the den. When he did the telephone rang.

“Hello?”

“Captain, you have a Doctor Wescoat to see you”.

Taken by complete surprise Wallace waited a few seconds before responding to the doorman. Finally, he said, “Send her up”.

Five minutes later he heard her approach the door. He opened it and saw her standing there in front of him. “Surprise”, she said.

“And, a very pleasant one indeed. Come in”.

“I hope you don't mind, but I brought lunch”, she said holding up a wicker picnic basket”.

“Mind? Hell no. In fact, I was just about ready to flip a coin to see if I ate the submarine sandwich in the refrigerator for lunch or dinner. Then he stood silently looking at her. She stood in the foyer wearing white shorts, a baby blue blouse and white sandals. Her hair was pulled back and tied with a white ribbon and he could detect the aroma of her shampoo.

“Suddenly self conscious she asked, “Something wrong?”

“Wrong? Hell no. I'm just suddenly realizing what an attractive woman you are. As a matter of fact, this is the first time that I realized that you have legs. Usually I see you in a long, white lab coat, no make up, long pants, long hair and wearing tennis shoes”.

“Well, then I'm glad I decided to shave my legs. Will you take this basket or show me the way to the kitchen?”

“Oh. I'm sorry. Here let me take it. Is there anything that should be kept cold?”

“Yes, I made fried chicken, potato salad, lettuce and tomatoes and there is a thermos of ice tea”.

“Emily, you saved my life”, he said as he walked into the kitchen.

“Really? Not to change the subject, but you have a lovely view of the ocean, beach and boardwalk”, she said as she stood looking out through the glass panel door.

“Yeah, I like it. Actually that's why I chose this unit”, he answered.

“I'm surprised that you live in a condo”.

“Why?”

“I've always found them too expensive either to rent or to buy”.

“That right? I guess that it depends on one's finances”.

“Forgive me if I seem forward, but how does a police officer, even a Captain of Police maintain a condominium on a city salary?”

“ I found it easy when my father and mother died leaving me the entire building'.

“Oh, I'm so sorry. I spoke out of turn”.

“Hey don't worry about it. It's not something I go around crowing about. However, I have a nice income. Every month the rents are paid to one of my accounts, rendering me somewhat independent financially.

Emily stood slowly looking around. This is very nice. Small, compact, furnished in a way that a man would like. Lots of leather, chair, couch, desk and end tables black”.

“They're ebony”.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“So, other than coming to my rescue and keeping me from starving to death along with checking out my living arrangements why are you here?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I'm extremely interested in the Pauline Harris murder?”

“Sure. Doc Edwards was the pathologist here for years. He was also my best friend .Often he would get caught up in my investigations.

“Then your not upset with me coming here?”

“Of course not”.

“Then, how is your investigation going?”

“Slow, but that's to be expected. Myers flies out to Vegas tomorrow. Hopefully she'll come up with something. At the same time June Campo is working on a physical piece of evidence between the two I might get an additional lead. I'm not too worried. I have an excellent team”.

“Is the current pathologist part of your team?”

“That depends”.

“On what?”

“Your ability to testify in court. Doctor Bell, your predecessor couldn't cut it. She was deathly afraid of the trial environment. That's why she left”.

“You haven't shown me the rest of your place. Where's the bedrooms?”

“Bedroom”

“Just one?”

“That's all I need. If a woman stays the night she usually sleeps with me. If a guy spends the night the couch opens up into a double bed”.

“You think of everything, don't you?”

“I try. Anyway the bedroom is down the hall to your right. The master bath is right off of the bedroom.”

“You're not going to show me?”

“Nope. I don't want to get any ideas”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

The Black Dress

 

Arriving at headquarters on Monday morning Captain Wallace met with and asked Sergeant Stiles if Tom Mckenna had picked up Detective Myers and was on his way to the Philadelphia International Airport. Once that was confirmed he opened the white paper bag, handed Stiles a coffee than sat back in his office chair and ate a lemon filled doughnut. Between bites the two men discussed the Pauline Harris homicide case.

“Have you studied the photographs taken at the beach?”, asked Wallace.

“Yeah, what about them?”

“According to Lieutenant Campo the body was found slightly over thirty nine feet from the jetty”.

“So, that's where the body washed up”.

“Agreed, however, did it wash up on the incoming tide, or the outgoing tide?”

“Hmmmn. You got a point there Cap”.

“Exactly. Off hand I'd say Pauline Harris body was tossed into the ocean on the left side of the New Hampshire Ave. jetty on the outgoing tide. The question is how far from the left hand side of the jetty” Three feet or three miles? Then of course, if I'm wrong the body could have been dumped in the ocean from either a pier or a boat during the incoming tide.

In either case in that location in the inlet both tides, high and low rip through that body of water at a rapid rate. When we were kids we would run and jump off of Captain Stan's docks, swim out into the out going current and ride the rip tide all the way to Verona Ave. As I recall, that rip tide flowing between Nautilus Beach and Sabastian Island moves at eight feet per second. Unfortunately, I don't know how fast the incoming tide travels. Anyway it's just another thing we have to think about”.

“How come you never rode the incoming tide Cap?”

“One day someone reported that schools of sharks followed the commercial fishing trawlers as they came up the inlet heading for the docks. It seems that the fishermen were in the habit of tossing what they considered trash fish over the side. Evidently the sharks just followed,

eating all the way. How true it is, I don't know. Back when I was a kid I wasn't taking any chances.

I do know one thing. The rip tides that travel from Sabastian Inlet out into the ocean are capable of carrying a human body miles out to sea. I remember when as a member of the scuba team we dived for three days around the rock breakwater looking for the body of a nine year old boy that slipped off of the rocks and drowned. On the fourth day a fishing party boat found his body two miles out in the ocean.”

Wallace reached for the telephone, dialed three numbers and then waited for June Campo to answer. When she did Wallace asked, “Lieutenant, do you have any results analyzing the black dress?”

“Yes and no. I can tell you that at sometime the dress had a snag. There was a pull and there is evidence of a run in the material. Off hand I think it might have happened when the body hit some thing , maybe the jetty. The rocks there are covered with barnacles. At the same time I found what appears to be a strange organism that is contained in the dress material. Right now, I can't identify it. The cells are odd shaped and don't appear to have come from an animal donor, such as a human. That means it has to be vegetable. My background is in chemistry, not biology. I made several slides. Now, I can send them to the State Police lab in Trenton or hand carry them to a friend of mine who is a marine biologist. It's up to you”.

“Well, we both know the body had been in water. You know how I feel about the State Police. Show them to your friend, however, advise him or her that they may have to appear in court”.

After he spoke to June Campo Wallace dialed the number for the morgue. When Emily Wescoat answered Wallace said, “Good morning.

I forgot to ask you a couple of important questions”.

“About what?”, she asked.

“The time of Pauline Harris death”.

“As I recall it was approximately nine or ten pm., June nineteen.”

“And from the appearance of her body can you estimate how long it had been in the water?”

“About ten hours”.

“Excellent, thank you”.

“Was my information helpful?”

“Yep, another piece to the puzzle. Talk with you later”.

“Bye”.

Opening one of the desk drawers, Wallace removed a copy of the Farmers Almanac, looked up phases of the moon and wrote down, “Full Moon, June 18, 1978”. Afterward he leaned back in the high back office chair deep in thought. “A full moon would cause a higher than usual tide. .At the same time a lower than usual tide should also occur. Which tide carried the body?” His thoughts were interrupted when Tom Mckenna walked into the office. Wallace looked at him and asked, “Did she get off alright?”

“I guess so. I dropped her off in front of the door leading to the concourse she wanted. Last time I saw her she was talking to a skycap”.

“Good, now tomorrow instead of coming in I want you to go directly to the Jeffry and Keys mortuary. Attend the viewing. I want you to see if the Butlers show up. Also any of the house wives that model for them. Follow up by going to the cemetery. Be alert look for anyone out of place.

“What do you mean out of place?”, asked Mckenna.

“Some type of killers get a thrill out of watching and seeing grief on the faces of their victims friends and family. Or, they show up to see their victim for the last time and to use their appearance there as part of an alibi. Use your eyes, scan those in attendance”.

“Got it. Anything else?”

“Yeah, dress appropriately. That means coat and tie”.

“Yes sir”.

“Good, I'll make a professional out of you yet”, said Wallace with a smile.

 

His conversation with McKenna was interrupted by the ringing telephone on his desk. With Myers out of the office no one now was screening his calls. He picked up the receiver, “Major Crime Squad, Captain Wallace”.

“Captain, this is Erica Butler. I hope that we can get off with a cordial and amiable conversation this morning”.

“So do I. Is it Miss or Mrs. Butler?”

“It's Mrs. Butler”.

“Fine, and what can I do for you Mrs. Butler”?

“I'm calling again about the dress Pauline was wearing when she died”.

“I think that I have explained the situation to you in this matter before. The dress is evidence. How long will it take until the County Prosecutor releases it? I have no idea. It may take years”.

“I understand that Captain. You see, when we decided to place the Kalinka dress in our fashion show we automatically assume responsibility for it. Therefore, to protect ourselves we naturally insure items such as these. At this time we are considering the fact that the dress is more or less lost. As a result we wish to submit a claim to the insurance company.

It is my understanding that the insurance company wants or needs a full report from you before our claim can be settled. I'm hoping, no, make that I'm requesting that you submit the necessary reports to me and I can then send them on to the underwriter”.

“Right church, wrong pew Mrs. Butler. Once again I refer you to the County Prosecutor”.

“But, it is my understanding that you are the investigating authority”.

“True, but so is he. At any time he can send in his own investigators and at all times he can review investigations and or evidence. I can tell you this. He is aware of the dress as evidence and probably won't welcome anything hindering or tampering with it as evidence, be it rightful owners or insurance companies”.

“And that's it? I'm to be subjugated to a law suit by the designer because no one will give me a simple report”.

“Sorry. Now you're talking a bout a civil matter. That's called a tort.

Have your attorney talk to the prosecutor. Maybe something can be resolved. Nonetheless, there's nothing I can do for you”.

“CLICK!”

“Miserable bitch”, he said to himself as he replaced the receiver.

Wallace spent the rest of the working day reviewing reports on other cases. Although the Harris murder case was at the top of the list there were other criminal matters needing the attention of the Major Crime Squad. Most of them were larcenies and most of the victims were men who for one reason or another took a prostitute to their hotel room only to wake up the next morning out several thousand dollars. The hookers working Nautilus Beach were after new prey. Those wearing Rolex wrist watches. And, although there weren't a lot of cases there were three that had been transferred from the Vice Squad to Captain Wallace's unit. This because each of the stolen watches were valued at ten thousand dollars or more.

At the end of the working day Wallace drove into the parking lot of the ACME market, parked and went inside. Pushing the cart he went to the frozen food aisle and there selected seven, different, Mrs. Stouffer's meals along with three Hungry Man dinners, two turkey and one Salisbury steak. Next, he picked up a pound of coffee, a quart of milk and finished shopping by selecting a loaf of white bread. After paying his bill he waited patiently while an old man with white hair slowly, but deliberately packed his groceries in brown, paper bags.

Arriving home he walked into the kitchen set the groceries on the table and then opening the freezer door placed the ten meals inside. He stood there for a moment trying to determine which one he wanted to have for dinner that night. He decided on the Hungry Man Salisbury steak.

The telephone rang and he answered on the kitchen phone. “Hello?”

“Robert. This is Emily. I need a favor”.

“Such as?”

“The fourth of July is coming up. I'm off naturally, so I would like to go to the beach”.

“So, that's easy, go”.

“It's not so easy. The town will be packed and parking will be a problem”.

“What do you need?”

“I was wondering if I could park in the condo's garage.”

“No”.

“That's what I thought”.

“Let me explain. Parking spaces are allotted to residents. If friends and relatives begin parking in those spots then there will be problems, problems the condo association doesn't want or need”.

“I understand. Thanks anyway”.

“Wait a minute. Don't give up so easily. How about this? I pick you up at your place. Drive you here. You go to the beach, come back here, shower and dress and I'll drive you home”.

“Oh, that's too much. I can't ask you to do that”.

“You're not asking, I'm offering”.

“Well, it's a few days away. Let me think about it”.

“Suit yourself. Anything else new?”

“No not really”.

“Then what's really on your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“The fourth is a week away. Either you're someone who likes to plan ahead or you're someone who needs company and wants to talk.”

“Are you the listening type?”

“Sometimes. Depends on who is doing the talking”.How about this? I jump in the shower, change into comfortable clothes instead of a suit and tie pick you up and we go some place for dinner?”

“What kind of place?”

“What are you in the mood for?”

“I mean how should I dress?”

“Casual, real casual. The place I have in mind is off the beaten path. There are candles on the table but they're stuck in old wine bottles. The waiter is eighty years old takes your order and never writes anything down. He brags about how good his memory is and if he does make a mistake you never mention it”.

Emily laughed. “Really, you know of such a place?”

“Certainly, been going there for years. It's called Chara's. She's the owner and the cook”.

“If the waiter is eighty years old how old is she?”

“I don't know, forty, forty five. She's the waiters daughter”.

“What kind of place is this?”

“A nice, little Greek restaurant. You like seafood. Tonight you can have fish like you've never had before in your life. Psari sto fourno. That's red mullet in a tomato sauce. What do you say?”

“And you say I can wear jeans?”

“Why not? That's what I'm wearing”.

“Fine, what time?”

“How about six. I'll call ahead and let Chara know that we're coming. That way she'll have the dish ready on time.”

Later, Emily and Robert sat at the table sipping strong, Greek coffee.

“If I don't stop going out to dine with you I'll put on twenty pounds”, said Emily.

“Did you enjoy the meal?”

“Oh yes. I'm not much of a coffee drinker and this cup is very strong.

“Don't drink it then”.

“Thank you. Now, is there anything new on your investigation?

“It's too soon to tell. I sent a detective to Las Vegas to chase down a possible lead. I haven't heard anything yet, but she only got there today.

The head of our lab said that she found something imbedded in the fabric of the dress the victim wore. Right now she can't identify it so she's taking it to a professor friend of hers. Hopefully the professor can tell us something. Other than that, we're just treading water”.

“I wonder what it is?”

“You wonder what is?”

“Whatever your lab person found in the dress”.

“Don't know. I do know that there was a pull in the dress fabric. A couple of threads are missing”.

“Oh well. As they say, time will tell. Meanwhile thank you for dinner, company and conversation. You're very perceptive, identifying my need for human contact”.

“Perceptive? Not really. Simply the same need. Talking with you gives me the opportunity to get away from the investigation. That way the questions I have building up in my mind are blocked for awhile and I can concentrate on other matters. A sort of an escape if you will”.

“What other matters?”

“For instance, why does a very attractive woman who is also a medical doctor wish to associate with a cop?”

“Does me associating with you create a problem?'

“No, I'm just curious”.

“The answer is simple. I'm new here in town. I have no real friends. We met in a mutual way, Pauline's murder. I like you. I find you and your work not only interesting, but fascinating. At the same time you interest me from what I have heard about you. How your reputation as a homicide investigator and an honest police officer is known all over town.

At the same time you are a gentleman. I've been with you in both professional and social environments and you've never made a pass at me or attempted to get me in bed. Right now I trust that it is because of your professionalism. If not, then maybe you don't find me attractive enough”.

“You're very attractive. Not only physical but mentally. And, don't be too trusting. I might be setting you up. Now, since we're done eating, let's be on our way”.

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

At one p.m. the next day Captain Wallace accepted a collect call from Detective Carol Myers. “Carol? How's it going?”, he asked.

“So far, not too well. Right now it's ten o'clock in the morning and the temperature outside is already near a hundred degrees”.

“You're in the desert in late June. That's to be expected. What about Patricia Baker?”

“The casino operates twenty four hours a day. I was there an hour ago. I spoke with one of the pit bosses and was told that she had quit there last month. She moved on to another casino, but the guy didn't know which one. He suggested that I talk to the manger who should know were she went. But, he doesn't come in until about five. I'll go back there and talk to him. When I have something I'll call you. Is it alright to call you at home?”

“Certainly. Other than being too hot, how do you like Vegas?”

“Fine. I won ten dollars playing the penny slots”.

“O.K. high roller talk to you later. Bye”.

Wallace hung up the telephone then looked up to see Lieutenant Campo and a distinguished older man standing in the doorway of his office. “Are you busy?”, asked Campo.

“ No, come in. come in”.

“Captain Wallace, allow me to introduce to you Doctor Harvey Anderson. Doctor Anderson is the head of the Marine Biology Studies at

Sylvester University”.

“My pleasure Doctor. Please have a seat”, said Wallace shaking the man's hand.

After the professor and lieutenant were seated June Campo said, “I took the slides I had prepared from what I found in the black dress to Doctor Anderson. He examined them under a microscope. Now, I'll let him tell you what he found”.

“Captain, what June found was bethenic algae . It is also known as Blue-Green algae. It is also called cyanobacteria, which are tiny organisms found naturally in all types of water. These so called, algae blooms appear as a thick mat or foamy scum. Very intense blooms have the ability to change the color of water to blue, green, orange or red. It may even give off an offensive odor. In this case the color is blue-green.

Not all blue- green algae grows on the surface of the water. Some adhere to aquatic plants and some grow on the bottom. At the same time

algae blooms can appear year-round, but they are more abundant in summer or fall.”

“Interesting Doctor. Can you tell me exactly where these samples you examined came from?”, asked Wallace.

“Precisely? No. But if I had to pick a location it would be Great Bay”.

“And you base your choice on what?”

“Based on the fact that algae and in particular, blue-green algae needs photosynthesis in order to grow. The great majority of Great Bay is only five feet deep with the exception of course of the deep channel created for the Inland Waterway.

“So the blue-green algae collected in large amounts in Great Bay adhered to the dress as the body floated in the water?”

“Possibly, but if I was to guess I would have to say by the amount of organisms found in the dress material the specimens were collected from the muddy bottom of the Bay”.

“Sorry to be a bother, but why the bottom of the bay?”

“Once again it because of the depth of the water. Let's assume your victim weighed between one hundred and ten to one hundred and twenty pounds. At the same time keep in mind that the victim now is dead weight. Dropped or tossed over the side of a dock or boat the body would naturally sink. At a depth of only five feet the body strikes the muddy bottom which is covered with blue-green algea which then adheres to the dress fabric”.

“I see. At the same time it makes sense. Great Bay is north of here.

If the killer planned to drop the body in the waters of Great Bay then it is possible that the intention was for the body to eventually wash out to sea on the out going rip tide. The killer had to select Great Bay due to the fact that he or she could be seen in any of the surrounding communities. You can't walk to Great Bay. You can only get there by boat”.

“Exactly, and as a marine biologist let me say that your theory of using the out going tide as a delivery system to get rid of the body makes sense. At times the current is running at forty eight feet a minute. I personally have conducted experiments while studying the geographical influences of tidal range. However, I won't bore you with those details. I hope that what I have found is beneficial in your investigation”.

“Doctor, your contribution is extremely helpful. I hope that if and when the time comes when we make an arrest that you will be available in court”.

“No problem Captain. You see I'm a bit of a ham. Sitting in the witness chair and ex halting the merits of marine biology is some thing I look forward to”.

“Thanks again. Lieutenant, I could kiss you”.

“Try that and I'll file a sexual harassment suit against you”, said Campo with a laugh.

“Alright, how about a letter of commendation?”

“That, I'll take. Thanks Cap”.

When Doctor Anderson and Lieutenant Campo left his office Wallace called the police department paint shop. He ordered that a empty, fifty gallon drum be painted a bright, yellow and delivered to the city docks the next day. Next he called the commander of the police boat informing him of his need to travel north, to Great Bay.

At three sixteen in the afternoon of the next day Robert Wallace stood holding on to the steel, now painted bright yellow drum. As he did he watched the surface of the water waiting for the now high tide to change.

“How long before the tide starts going out Cap?”, asked Stiles.

“Soon now. We're about a mile north of the Sabastian Island Bridge and there is an hours difference between ocean tide and bay tides.

“I hope that McKenna is on the jetty”,said Stiles.

“He had better be. He has to let me know what happens”, Wallace answered.

Ten minutes later the Captain noticed a change in the tide. The stern of the boat that had been facing north on the incoming and then ebb tide slowly began to turn. When the Pacemaker police boat turned completely and strained at the anchor, Wallace dropped the yellow drum over the side. He then shouted to the police officer on the bow who then pulled in the anchor and the helmsman began following the drum as it floated south towards the ocean.

Wallace then climbed up the ladder to the flying bridge and watched as the bright yellow drum raced towards the Sabastian Island Bridge. As he expected when they neared the narrow channel the divided Sabastian Island and Nautilus Beach the current increased creating a rip tide. He held his breath as the drum struck the ice breaker in front of the bridge then bounced off and continued its way south towards the beaches and the bathers.

The drum entered the section of the waterway known as the Inlet. It sped pass Captain Stan's waterfront restaurant. When it did it then approached the first of the rock jetty's built years ago to protect the neighborhood from beach erosion. Picking up a pair of binoculars Wallace looked towards the New Hampshire Avenue jetty expecting to see Tom McKenna standing there. He was.

As the fifty gallon drum neared the jetty Wallace held his breath as he watched the steel container veer suddenly to the east, caught in a small whirlpool. He breathed easier when he saw the drum spin out then caught up in the current swing around the jetty. The ever present wave action of the open ocean then slowly, but deliberately pushed the yellow cylinder up and on to the beach.

Using the portable radio Wallace spoke to Mckenna. “Tom, mark where that drum landed. I'll be there in awhile. Don't let it move or have anyone touch it”.

“Yes sir”, came the reply.

“Good job Cap”, said Stiles.

“Not really, just a theory. The drum is a lot lighter then Pauline Harris.

But, it does support my concept that the killer tried to dispose of her body by having it float out to sea on the outgoing tide. Thanks to Doctor Anderson we know approximately where the body was placed in the water. So Sergeant, what we have now is where and why. What we need to know next is, why and who”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

Suspects

 

Captain Robert Wallace looked again at the notes in his small, brown covered tablet. Looking at Tom McKenna he said, “ When we measured the distance of the drum from the jetty my reading was fifty seven feet, eight inches. What did you get?”

McKenna glanced at his notes and said, “ Fifty eight feet, even”.

“From where to where?”

“From the jetty to the end of the drum”.

“That's the difference. I measured from the jetty to the side of the drum. Alright, close enough. The main thing in the experiment was to see if the rip tide would carry an object such as a dead body out to sea, or deposit it on the beach. Of course there was and is a difference in weight. We now know that as a result of the extension put on to the end of the jetty two years ago influences a rip tide as it passes by.”

“Why is this so important Cap?”, asked McKenna.

“Right now it's telling us that who ever placed the body of Pauline Harris in the waters of Great Bay, knows the area, is familiar with the tides that effect the waters around Nautilus Beach and either owns or has access to a boat”.

“Anyone can rent a row boat and motor for twenty dollars”.

“True, but not at night. The Medical Examiner estimates the time of death at between nine and ten P.M. on June the nineteenth. So, it wasn't a rental boat that was used.”

“I see. Are you ready to hear about the funeral?”,asked McKenna.

“Yes, how was it?”

“Sad, Mrs. Harris is taking her daughters death very hard”.

"That's to be expected”.

“None of the housewives on the list showed”.

“What about the Butlers?”

“Nope. The only one familiar to us was Angela Rodman. She was there.”

“That's understandable. They knew each other. Anything else?”

“Nope”.

“O.K. type up your report”.

At two twenty eight that afternoon Wallace accepted a call from Carol Myers. “How's it going?”, he asked.

“I finally found Patricia Baker. What she told me is very interesting”.

“Such as?”

“Such as Derrick Butler is also known as Daniel Barns, and Dominic

DeSilvio. Pat Baker knew him in Philadelphia as Desilvio. She met him again in Nautilus Beach when she filled out an application to model for the Butler's. She modeled at two conventions and didn't like kicking back to Erica Butler. The straw that broke the camel's back so to speak was when Butler, Barns, Desilvio, tried to get her to turn tricks with convention customers. She up and quit and headed for Vegas”.

“So Derrick Butler is a pimp”, said Wallace.

“Looks that way”.

“Good job. Anything else?”

“Yes sir. If you don't mind I think I'll spend a couple of more days here.”.

“No problem. Let me know when you're coming back and your flight number. Have a nice time. Bye”.

Wallace called for Sergeant Stiles. When Frank Stiles entered the office the Captain said, “Frank run the names Donald Barns and Dominic Desilvio through N.C.I.C. Myers had sent in Derrick Butler and nothing came back. Also check with the Philadelphia P.D. same thing, same names. And oh, Myers is staying awhile longer in Vegas”.

“Did she find anything?”

“Yep. Seems Mr. Butler isn't his real name and managing models isn't his only profession. Seems that at one time or another he was or is, a pimp. He tried to get Patricia Baker to turn tricks with conventioneers after the fashion shows”.

“Hey, that opens a new ballgame”.

“Yeah, if he propositioned one model, did he proposition others?”

“Could be. I think we'd better talk to Angela Rodman again Cap”.

“I think you're right. When was the last time you and Emma went out to dinner?”

“It's been a while”.

Wallace stood up, then reached back and removed his wallet from his back pocket. Opening it he took out a fifty, twenty and five dollar bill then handed it to Stiles. “Here, take your wife to the Timbuktu tonight. Have dinner and question our Miss Rodman about what she knows about

Butler or Desilvio, or whatever the hell his name is and whether or not she was proposition to become a prostitute”.

“Hey Cap. I can't take your money”.

“Right now you have to. It's a pain in the ass to have to sit and try to figure out what the police department owes Sergeant Stiles for meals incurred during an investigation. And, at the same time what Sergeant Stiles owes the department for funds spent on Emma Stiles during the same investigation. Take the money, get me the answers, have a nice dinner with your wife and I'll figure out who owes what and who later”.

“Thanks Cap”.

“No problem. Now, send those names to N.C.I.C.”

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

Later that evening Sergeant Frank Stiles, always the gentleman stood as Angela Rodman approached his table. Then, at the table he introduced the singer to his wife, Emma.

“I want to thank you for taking time to answer a few questions Miss Rodman and just so my wife doesn’t become a witness in a homicide investigation please excuse her while she goes and powders her nose so to speak”.

“Before I go dear, let me say just how much I enjoyed your singing. You have a beautiful voice”, said Emma Stiles.

“Thank you”, said Angela.

Then, alone at the table Stiles said, “I only have a few questions to ask you”.

“I thought I answered all the questions the police wanted the other day. I don't appreciate having my boss coming to me before or after a show to tell me the police want to see me”.

“Believe me Miss Rodman we wouldn't be talking to you unless we had to. Right now we believe you can answer one or two questions”.

“About what?”

“About Derrick Butler”.

“What about him?”

“I'll come right to the point. Did he ever directly or indirectly suggest that you prostitute yourself with customers of his related to the fashion shows for conventioneers?”

“Listen Sergeant, I really don't want to get involved in any police matter, particularly with Derrick Butler”.

“What if I was to tell you that Patricia Baker, a friend of yours who modeled at the same time as you has told us that Butler asked her to turn tricks with conventioneers?”

Angela sat quietly for a moment then said, “ Yes, he asked me to do that. He told me how much I could make a night charging three to five hundred dollars with each customer. All he wanted was half. He considered that his fee for setting me up with whoever wanted me”.

“And then what?”

“What do you mean and then what? I told him to go to hell and I left the agency for good. Here I am and I hope I never see or hear of the Butler's again for the rest of my life”.

“How about Erica Butler, did she approach you or any of the other girls?”

“She never approached me. Remember younger girls my age were just being hired for the agency. To my knowledge Erica spent most of her time with the older models”.

“Alright Miss Rodman thank you for your co-operation. Hopefully we won't need to talk to you in the future. Now, I'll get out of your hair, pick up my wife and go home”.

At ten o'clock that evening Wallace answered the ringing telephone on his desk. “Hello?”

“Cap, Stiles here. Just got home a little while ago. I questioned Angela. She was a little reluctant at first, but then she opened up. Seems that Butler tried the same thing as he did with the Baker girl. He even quoted an asking price for each trick”.

“How much?”

“Between three and five hundred”.

“The girls on the street and getting forty a throw”.

“Yeah but look at them”.

“You have a point. Go ahead”.

“Anyway, she refused to do it and quit the agency”.

“Anything else?”

“I asked about Erica Butler trying to see if she was involved. Evidently

she isn't. Not at that stage anyway. And, that's about it”.

“Sounds good. Give me a written report in the morning. Did Emma enjoy herself?”

“Yeah, hell I might even get lucky tonight”

“Then don't waste time talking to me, Bye”.

The next morning Captain Wallace, Sergeant Stiles and Detective McKenna sat around the commander's desk drinking coffee and eating doughnuts. As they did they discussed the Harris case going over and over the physical evidence they had, the information gathered from witnesses and then, their suppositions.

“If Derrick Butler or whatever the hell his name is, operates as a pimp then what about Erica Butler”, asked Stiles.

“What about her?”, asked McKenna,

“Well, for one thing does she know that her old man is trying to recruit young women to put in his stable”, Tom McKenna answered.

“Good question Tom. I think that it's about time we started looking into the background of Erica Butler. Speaking of background is there anything from N.C.I.C. on Desilvio, Frank?”,asked Wallace.

“Can I use your telephone? I'll call Communications and see if anything came in on their computer”.

“Be my guest”.

Stiles dialed the number then speaking to someone in the Communications Bureau asked about any information coming in from the National Crime Information Center. He waited while a check was made of all incoming correspondence. Finally, he was told that a report had come into the Bureau from the F.B.I..”Read it to me please, I'm in sort of a hurry”, Stiles said.

“ Dominic Desilvio, a.k.a Donald Barns, a.k.a Derrick Butler. W.M. age 39, D.O.B. 3/20/39 place of birth, Baltimore Maryland. Arrested

5/31/57 larceny, 12/15/58 bookmaking, 6/10/60 pandering. Arresting authorities, Baltimore Maryland Police Department.

9/02/62 pandering. Arresting authority, Philadelphia Pennsylvania Police Department. Do you want the convictions and sentences?”, asked the communication clerk?”

“No, print it and send it down to me”, said Stiles. Turning to Wallace Frank Stiles read aloud the information he had written down. “Looks like the boy has a record”, he added.

“Well, at least we know Angela Rodman and Patricia Baker are telling us the truth. Alright, Tom I want you to swing by the office of the modeling agency. Get the license plate number of the vehicles there. Then, do a look up with Motor Vehicle. That should give us a home address of the Butler's.

It appears they might be in deeper in this case then we thought. Frank, send out a look up on Erica Butler, state, federal and Philadelphia”, said Wallace.

“I'm way ahead of you Cap. Myers was working on Erica before you sent her to Vegas. As I recall she found an article in Fashion Magazine titled, Erica Butler, Style. Seems to me Myers said that Erica Butler's maiden name was Erica Lippmann. She was born and raised in Philadelphia, went to Temple University where she studied fashion design and business. She didn't graduate or gain a degree. Here's the interesting part. She never mentions her marriage or Derrick Butler”.

“With his record it's not surprising. Frank, check in I.D. and see if he registered as a criminal. If not. We got him by the balls. Either way we'll get to him sooner or later”.

“Failing to register is just a violation of a city ordinance”, said McKenna.

“True, but it's enough to hold him for awhile”.

“O.K. I'll get going. Both vehicles should be there now. I'll be back after lunch”.

“Anything more from Myers?”, asked Stiles.

“No and I don't expect anything. Right now she's on vacation and doesn’t have to check in”.

At two thirty two pm, Detective Thomas Mckenna walked into the Captains office holding two sheets of paper in his hand. Wallace looked up from the paper work he was doing and said, “What did you find?”

“The van they use for transporting models, equipment and clothing is registered to the Nautilus Beach Modeling Agency. However, a 1976, light blue Mercedes-Benz 350 two door is registered to one, Erica Butler. According to the tag information she lives at 1400 Bay Avenue, Nautilus Beach, New Jersey. Nothing shows on Derrick Butler as far as being co-owner of the automobile”.

“Very good. Now, go to the tax office and have them look up any and all information they have on that property”.

“Such as?”

“Such as the value, the taxes being paid, if there is a mortgage and if so, who holds the paper?”

“What happens if they won't give that information to me?”

“Then, you threaten to arrest the bastards for obstruction of justice. Then tell them that they will have to appear in front of a grand jury to explain there actions”.

“Do you think that will work?'

“It works every time for me. Of course ,you have to be convincing”.

When McKenna left Wallace returned to the hand written notes that he had made. Then, with the information that McKenna had obtained he added the make and model of Erica Butler's automobile and her home address. Next to the address he added several question marks. “Bay Avenue is one of the most expensive real estate sections in the city. The properties were only second to the beach front and boardwalk. Either the model agency was bringing in more funds then what meets the eye or money is coming from some other source. But, what is it?”, he asked himself mentally.

His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing telephone, He answered it, spoke briefly with Detective Myers and wrote down her airline, arrival time, flight number and hung up.

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

Two days later in the morning, Captain Wallace looked at Detective Myers as she walked into his office. Sergeant Stiles and Detective McKenna were seated drinking coffee. “Welcome home. Your tea and muffin is in the bag. How come you're came back so soon? I thought you wanted to stay a couple of more days out there?”, asked Wallace.

“I couldn't afford it. I got hooked on the slot machines”, answered Myers.

“Were you a good girl?”, asked Stiles.

Myers took a sip of tea and then smiled. “Someone said I was perfect”.

“Alright, we'll bring you up to date later. Right now I want to go over what Tom found by checking the tax records of Erica and Derrick Butler. Tom, you can tell us what you found”, said Wallace.

“Yes sir. The house they live in is located at 1400 Bay Avenue. It is

valued by the city at two hundred and eighty thousand dollars. Taxes paid each year in the last two years by the Butler's is eight hundred and forty dollars. The property is mortgaged and the lender is Mariner Trust of Nautilus Beach”.

“Really?, That's somewhat unusual. Most mortgages are held by banks”, said Stiles.

“True, but trust companies, can and do handle mortgages. They also deal in stocks and bonds, real property and such things as the purchasing and selling of yachts and money management”, offered Wallace.

“John Hanes is the C.E.O. and owner of Mariner Trust”, said Myers.

“Where does he live?”, asked Stiles.

“Bayview Ave”, Myers answered.

“While we're at it, give me the addresses of the models”, said Wallace.

Myers open the folder and read, “Mary Ann Bell resides at 1480 Bay Ave. Charlotte Deviny lives at 1502 Bay Ave. Hilda peck has a home at 1322 Bayview Ave. Martha and John Hanes place is located at 1340 Bayview Ave. And, Amanda Wells lives at Unit 222 in the Ocean Shore Condominiums”,

“Hmmm. All, with the exception of Amanda Wells live in either the same neighborhood or in close proximity of each other. At the same time both Bay and Bayview Avenues are high price areas”, said Stiles.

“True, although interesting it's not too unusual. Each one of those women are married to professional men, doctor, dentist, lawyer, stock broker and banker. Actually, one could say that John Hanes is more then a broker. Nothing unusual if one considers their income”, said Wallace.

“Again, what I find slightly out of the ordinary is that Mariner Trust holds the mortgage on the Butler's property”, said Stiles.

“O.K. Frank. You and Myers go to the tax office and check each one of the properties Carol mentioned. See if you can find out if Mariner Trust holds other mortgages we might by interested it”.

“Yes sir”.

“And, I'll tell you something else that's interesting”.

“What's that Cap?”. Asked McKenna.

“All those homes, with the exception of the Ocean Shore Condominiums are waterfront properties. Each home has a dock. Now, the question is, which dock has a boat tied up to it. Tom, that's your job. Check it out”.

“On the way”.

“While each of you are busy, I'll be with the County Prosecutor. I'm going to try to get Mr. James Elroy to look into the corporation of Mariner Trust”.

“What Are you looking for?”, asked Stiles.

“First, is it incorporated in New Jersey, if not where? Then, who are the C.E.O. and board of directors, if any?”

“That should prove interesting”, said Myers.

“Why?”

“You never ask the prosecutor to get involved in your cases”.

“True, but this is more or less a menial task. Let him use his investigators. Better them then me sending one of you to Trenton or Wilmington”.

“Why Wilmington?”, asked Myers.

“Because it's quicker, and cheaper. A smart business man would more than likely choose Delaware to incorporate his business. Now, let's get moving”.

After convincing James Elroy to look into the business firm of John Hanes, Wallace drove into the parking lot of the hospital. He walked down the stairs that led to the morgue then walked through the double doors and into the room. He stopped when he heard the sound of an electric saw and saw Doctor Wescoat about to remove the cranial cap from a male corpse on a gurney. Emily stopped when she saw him. “I'll be with you in a minute”, she said through the mask that covered the lower part of her face.

“Take your time. I'll be just outside the door”.

Ten minutes later Emily opened one of the double doors looked at him and said, “Do you mean to tell me what you saw bothers you?”

“It sure as hell does. It's the cracking sound that's made when the cap is removed. It gets me every time”.

“Oh, poor you. The big brave policeman is afraid of dead people”.

“Yeah, well let me tell you something. I’m not afraid of seeing a dead body. I use to call Doctor Edwards Doctor Frankenstein. I might just start referring to you the same way”.

“What brings you here, Robert?”

“Hunger. Thought maybe we could go to lunch”.

“Sorry. I'm really busy, unless you want to eat here”.

“In the morgue?”

“No, of course not. The hospital cafeteria”.

“Better than a sandwich from a machine”.

“Alright, give me a minute while I get out of this lab coat and wash my hands”.

“How about the guy on the gurney?”

“He's not going anywhere, I'll finish with him after lunch.”

When Emily was ready they rode the elevator to the floor where the hospital cafeteria was located. Since it was just after twelve o'clock the place was busy and Robert and Emily joined the line of patrons who moved slowly pass soups, salads, cold cut platters, sandwiches, hot food and desserts.

Emily chose a garden salad along with a cup of coffee. Wallace took the cold cut platter and coffee.

After paying they both stood for a moment trying to find an empty table. Finally they found one back in the corner of the room. They walked to it, set down their trays then removed Styrofoam cups that had been left

by the last persons to use the table. Emily picked them up and walked a short distance to the trash can.

Finally seated they began to eat. Between bites they talked.

“So tell me, what really brought you here today?”, asked Emily.

“You mean besides wanting to take you to lunch?'

“Yes”.

“It's almost the fourth of July. Have you decided on my offer to pick you up so you can go to the beach?”

“I don't know, It seems that I might impose on you by doing that”.

“Nonsense. If you recall the conversation I offered to pick you up”.

“Yes, after I asked to park in the condo garage”.

“Emily will you please make a decision”.

“What if it rains?”

“Then, we can stand at the double doors in my living room that look down on the beach and boardwalk and pity all the poor bastards that had a lousy fourth of July”.

“Your impossible”,said Emily with a laugh.

“Then, it's decided. I'll pick you up”.

“Only if I can bring lunch”.

“I thought that you would stay for dinner. I enjoy playing chef once in awhile”.

“Just as long as you don't expect me to stay for breakfast”.

“Do I look like a cad? I do want to know if you want something other than seafood”.

“Since you are the chef, you decide”.

 

Arriving back at headquarters Wallace waited until the squad members entered his office and sat down. Then, he spoke. “The good news is Elroy will look into the Mariner Trust Corporation. That means none of you have to do it. The other good news is the fourth of July is near and we're all off for a long weekend unless, there's a killing and let's hope there isn't. Alright Frank, let's start with you”.

“I did some checking on the addresses. As a result I did find one, strange, interesting fact”.

“And?”,asked Wallace.

“Mary Ann and Harvey Bell have a home that is also mortgaged with Mariner Trust. What's strange and interesting is that Harvey Bell is the C.E.O. of the Regional Bank here in town. It seems to me that a guy that heads a bank wouldn't have too much trouble getting a mortgage with his own lending institution. Why then go to Mariner Trust?”

“Interesting. Appears we will have to dig deeper. O.K. Tom, what did you find?”

“I checked each address. Only one on the water had a boat, Derrick and Erica Butler. It's called the, “Model Life”. It's an Egg Harbor make, cabin cruiser I'd say about twenty seven or thirty feet long, flying bridge, outriggers, the whole package”.

“My ,oh my. It does get interesting doesn’t it?”, said Wallace

“Well, at least, we have now have suspects”, said McKenna.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

Independence Day

 

Robert Wallace sat in his favorite chair staring at the lithe and graceful body of Emily Wescoat as she stood before him in his living room

She was attired in a white bikini with matching sandals. Thinking that she might be offended with his staring he stood, diverting his eyes from her.

“You be careful on the beach. Your so fair that you could burn very easily. Many people make the mistake of disregarding the sun. Make sure that you're not one of them”.

“I brought lotion, but I can't reach my back. Would you put it on me Robert?”

“Sure”. He took the bottle of sun tan lotion from her and when she turned around he stood behind her. Placing a small amount of the liquid in his hand he first rubbed her shoulders. As he did he caught the pleasant aroma of the scented soap she used. Using more lotion he applied it down to where the bikini bra strap crossed her back.

“I don't know how much you paid for this bathing suit, but I'm sure it was expensive. I don't want to get this greasy stuff on the material”, he said as he spread the last of the lotion in his hand on her lower back.

“I thank you”.

“There you go, all finished'.

“Why don't you come with me?”, she asked.

“I'm not much of a beach goer anymore. When I was a kid I lived on the beach. I did two things, body surfed and chased girls. Now, I'd rather sit in my air conditioned living room listening to quality music while reading a good book. Besides, didn't you see the movie, Jaws?”

“Yes, but I don't intend to go into the water”.

“Why not?”

“I don't know how to swim. Remember, I'm from Iowa”.

“I could teach you”.

“I bet you could teach me a lot of things. That's why I'm leaving now for the beach. I should be back in about two hours. After I shower and dress we'll have lunch. Everything is in your refrigerator. Bye”.

After Emily left Wallace walked into his kitchen. There he washed and dried his hands, picked up the unread Sunday morning edition of the Nautilus beach Press and carried it to his favorite chair. As usual, he started by reading the sports page first. In disgust he mumbled under his breath a few profanities as glaring headlines announced, “Phillies Lose Again!” tossing the sports section on the floor he then read the world news. President Nixon finally made a speech since resigning in 1974. The Northern Territory of Australia becomes self-governing. “Same old bullshit!”, he thought to himself. He deposited the World news on top of the sports section. Now all that was left to read were the cartoons, society pages and the want ads. He always saved the cartoons for last. He never read the want ads so he opened up the society page and read.

He saw the always present engagement and wedding pictures, birthdays and charity events and was about to add this section of the newspaper to those piled on the floor when he spotted, Fire Cracker Boat Parade Tonight. The annual Fourth of July Boat Parade will be held this evening starting at eight pm. in Garwood Basin. Thirty five boats of various size, each one decorated with a patriotic theme in honor of Independence Day will compete for the honor of being the best in the parade. The judging will be conducted by Martha and John Hanes, last years winners with their boat, U Owe Me.

“Son of a bitch!”, he said aloud.

He got up out of his chair quickly and took the news paper with him to the desk. There, he cut out the article, saving it for the case file at headquarters. Then he sat and thought. “Why wasn't the Hanes boat mentioned in McKenna's report? He had found the Butlers Egg Harbor cabin cruiser. How in the hell could he have missed the U Owe Me?”.

His first thought was to call McKenna at home, but it being a holiday he decided against it. “Let the young guy enjoy his days off. My questions can wait until tomorrow”,he thought to himself.

Reaching for the telephone on the desk he dialed the number.

“Hello?”, said Mary, now Mary Wagner again.

“Hello yourself. I'm calling asking for a favor”, said Robert.

“I thought we agreed that I didn't have to pay you alimony”.

“Very funny. What I need is any information that might be in the archives of your paper in relation to John and Martha Hanes and Derrick and Erica Butler

“Such as?”

“I really don't know. At this point I'll take everything that has been written and collected”.

“How soon do you need it?”

“No rush. Yesterday would be fine”.

“So the great investigator and enemy of the free press needs and wants a favor”.

“Sadly, I must admit it”.

“Very well. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, not at the moment”.

“I'll get back to you, bye”.

Just as Wallace hung up the telephone Emily walked into the condo.

“Well, did you enjoy the beach?”, he asked.

“Yes and no. the beach is crowded. You were right about the sun. I felt the heat of it on my skin and the water was cold”.

“So you went into the water”.

“Up to my ankles”.

“Normally, the ocean temperature doesn’t reach seventy until about mid-July. That's two weeks away. As far as being crowded. It's the fourth of July weekend. Most of Philadelphia is spread out all along the Jersey coastline”.

“ Well, if you don't mind I'm going to use your shower. I'm afraid I left a bit of sand on the red rug in the lobby when I came in”.

“No problem. The door man has a Bissel sweeper. He also has a mop for the tile in the foyer when it rains”.

“I won't be long. Then, we'll have lunch. I'm hungry”.

“Take your time. I've got to put down some notes. A couple of things have come up”.

“About the Harris case?”

“Yes”.

“Can you tell me about it?”

“Sure, after you shower and dress.”.

 

The next day Captain Wallace sat watching Tom McKenna as the detective read the newspaper article about the Hanes and their boat. When he was finished the young man looked at Wallace and said, “Cap, there was no boat at their dock on the day I checked all of the properties”.

“Then, the U Owe Me wasn't behind the home of John and Martha Hanes?”

“Not when I checked”.

“Alright, what I want you to do now is check all the boat works in the area. Those here on the island and those on the mainland. It's possible that they put their yacht in one of them for repairs or maintenance. At the same time John Hanes is a sports fisherman. He's won both the Tuna Tournament and the Marlin Tournament a couple of times over the years.

It's strange that his boat isn't at his dock in the middle of summer”.

“I'll tell you what's strange. Now, instead of one boat in this case, now there's two”, said Sergeant Stiles'.

“True, but which one took Pauline to Great Bay?”, asked Wallace.

“I don't know Cap, but where do we go from here?”

“We keep digging. Let's focus on the Butler's and then Martha and John Hanes”.

“We got enough right now to lean on Derrick”, said Myers.

“True, but it's a city ordinance violation. He'd get thirty days in the County jail at the most”,Wallace replied.

“I say if nothing else we bring him in and question him about what he knows of Pauline Harris. After all, she was one of his models”, said Stiles.

“ I'll go along with that Frank. However, you do the questioning. I'll observe. What I really want to know is what this guy is like. I want to be able to evaluate him.”

“And, after you do that, then what?”

 

“Then I have two things in mind”.

Forty eight hours later Captain Wallace sat in a dark room looking through a glass window into an interrogation room. He waited patiently for Sergeant Stiles and Detective Myers along with Derrick Butler to enter and sit down. Then, when the questioning began he would begin his observation of the man. Primarily he was interested in Butler's demeanor while he was being questioned by the police. Would he be calm and collected or rattled? Would he answer questions quickly, or search his mind for answers as he attempted to confuse and at the same time try to satisfy the inquirers?” Wallace removed the ball point pen from his shirt pocket and placed it next to the yellow, blue lined tablet on the table in front of him. He watched as Butler took a seat.

Wallace took a good look at the man as he entered the room. He was about five feet six inches tall, weighed about one hundred and forty pounds and had either a nice tan or was olive complected. His jet black hair was well oiled and combed straight back.

Even though it was July and hot and humid, Butler was attired in a powder blue blazer, dark blue shirt with an open collar, white pants, socks and shoes. A gold like chain hung around his neck and he wore a pinky ring.

Stiles opened by saying, “Mr. Butler, I want to thank you for taking time out of your busy day and for agreeing to meet with us. First, I want to apologize for the fact that we are more or less forced to use this room for our meeting. As you probably know by reading the newspapers and watching television that the Pauline Harris case is the talk of the town. For us to meet in the Major Crime Squad offices would expose you to the scrutiny of the press. That is something we do not want to do. As a matter of fact what we really want to know from you is what you can tell us about Pauline Harris”.

Butler smiled, “I understand Sergeant. I have no problem coming here and answering any questions you may have”.

“Excellent. Now, we know that Pauline Harris worked for you as a fashion model at your agency. Did she work full time or part time?”,asked Stiles.

“Sergeant, we are a small agency. Most of our business is in relation to convention business here on the island. As a result all of our models work part time”.

“I see. At the same time, and we got this information from Pauline's family that she, and again, this is their opinion, not ours, that she was the youngest model working for your agency. Is that true?”

“Yes. Over time our clients began to express a desire for younger models”.

“Could you explain what you mean by young?”

“Sure, in the eighteen to twenty age bracket”.

“Then, I take it that your other models are older”.

“Yes'.

“How much older?”

“ From thirty to forty years old”.

“Really? I don't think I can ever remember seeing a fashion model at those ages”, said Myers.

“It depends on the fashion. Younger girls for younger styles. Older, mature women for more mellow styles”, answered Butler.

“Then, you do have older models”, said Myers.

“Of course, but allow me to mention that depending on the fashions and the desires of the clients we can bring in professional models from say, New York and Philadelphia of course now we're talking about a much larger fee incurred by the models.”

“How much of a larger fee?”, asked Stiles.

“A top notch model can demand two thousand a day”.

“And, what do you pay your local models?”, asked Myers.

“The majority of the time our models receive between two hundred and four hundred dollars a day”.

“Who decides on what Fashion to display?”, asked Myers.

“The client most often dictates what they want to see. One time it could be cruise and beach wear. Another time it might be cocktail or evening wear.”

“I see and who decides on which designs are to be shown?”, asked Myers.

“Usually, my wife, Erica. There are quite a few men who are aware of current designs and designers. Unfortunately, I'm not one of them. Speaking of designs, I'm afraid I have to bring up the subject of the Kalinka dress. Right now it looks like we're going to have to pay almost fifteen hundred dollars, just because our model was wearing it when she was murdered”.

“That is unfortunate. We have been in touch with Mrs. Butler and as far as I know the matter has been referred to the County Prosecutor”, said Stiles.

“What can you tell us about Pauline Harris?”, asked Myers.

“Not too much. She was a nice girl, young as you know, attractive, the college girl type. That was what we were looking for when we hired her”.

“Then you wanted her to model fashions for the campus co-ed”, said Myers.

“Exactly. She was the ideal college girl. Blond, blue eyes, happy, perky. It's a shame what happened to her. I believe that she might have transformed into one of the top models in our agency”.

“Do you remember her having any problems, such as arguments with other models or being bothered by male observers during the shows?”, asked Stiles.

“No, as a matter of fact, congeniality and compatibility are required with all our models. And, one of my responsibilities is the safe guarding of the reputation and physical well being of all our ladies.”

“Well, Mr. Butler, unless Detective Myers has any further questions I want to thank you for coming in. However, should you remember anything that might help us in our investigation please contact us. Carol, any questions?”

“No Sergeant”.

“Then, thanks again”, said Stiles as he shook hands with Derrick Butler.

After Butler left, Wallace walked into the interrogation room and sat down at the table with Stiles and Myers. “Well, what do you think?', asked Stiles.

“ First of all, he's a bullshit artist. I noticed that phoney brass necklace he wants everyone to think that it's gold. At the same time the diamond pinky ring is a zircon. I found him well spoken, but many con artists have mastered the art of conversation. At this time we already know from witnesses that he is the errand boy in the agency. However, I did pick up on one thing”, said Wallace.

“What's that Cap?”, asked Myers.

“The fact that he considers himself to be responsible for the reputation and physical well being of all his ladies”.

“That's the same job as any pimp”, said Stiles.

“Exactly”.

When Wallace returned to his office he found a large manila envelope on his desk. Picking it up and recognizing Mary's handwriting he took a seat and opened the package then removed several xerox copies of news articles.

The first thing he picked up was a black and white copy of a photo showing John Hanes and his wife accepting a large trophy. Wallace looked at the date and saw July 20, 1975. The caption read, “John and Martha Hanes winners of the Nautilus Beach Tuna Tournament accept the winning prize for catching a 320 lb. Blue fin tuna on their boat the, U Owe Me.”

Wallace looked at the calendar on his desk. “This year the tournament will run from Friday, July 21, to Sunday the 23rd.That could be why Mckenna couldn't find the Hane's boat. It might be getting fitted out for the contest”, he thought to himself as he selected another news article.

This one was date February 9, 1972. It read, “Local Broker Acquitted in Insider Trading Case”.

Leaning back in his chair Captain Wallace read, “Newark, N.J.

Judge Ronald Bingham showed skepticism in the governments case against local Stock Broker John Hanes tossing out two insider trader counts, leaving only a conspiracy charge to go to the jury. After four hours of deliberation the jury found John Hanes of Nautilus Beach, N.J. not guilty”.

Wallace made notes on his pad, “Insider trades?”

Picking up another copied newspaper photograph with a caption, Wallace saw a picture of John and Martha Hanes with Erica and Derrick Butler. The subtitle read, “Local business owners enjoy United Nations Handicap at the Atlantic City, Race Track”. There was no story line.

Wallace reached for the telephone, dialed three numbers and waited for an answer.

“Marine Patrol, Sergeant Dilkes”.

“Don? Captain Wallace. Are you assigned to the upcoming Tuna Tournament?”

“Only in the Inlet. We stand by there when the boats go out and come back in. The Coast Guard has responsibility out at sea”.

“Any problem with me putting one of my squad members on board the police boat”?

“No, just as long as he doesn’t get in the way”.

“Fine, what time are you leaving the dock?”

“In the morning, about six or seven. Late afternoon four of five. We haven't got the exact times for the hours set for each day of the tournament”.

“That's O.K. my man will be there on the afternoon detail”.

“Good, mind if I ask who it will be?”

“Not at all, Tom McKenna”.

“Excellent, he's a good man”.

“Thanks Don”.

Wallace disconnected his call with Dilkes and called for McKenna.

When the detective entered the office the Captain looked at him and said, “What did you find out about the, U Owe Me?”

“It's in dry dock over on Sabastian Island. Seems the engines are being tuned up for a fishing contest, plus they're replacing a propeller”.

“Good, that figures. Now, since you're always bitching and moaning about dirty details and getting the shitty end of the stick all the time. I have a real nice assignment for you”.

“Oh, oh. Now What?”

“I'm assigning you to the police boat. I want you on board in the afternoon boat detail. When the U Owe Me comes into port at the end of the day I want you to look and see if either of the Butler's are on board”.

“No problem. Anything else?”

“Yeah, call Sergeant Dilkes and get the time he'll be leaving the dock and knowing you, go to the drug store and get a bottle of Dramamine “.

“Yes sir”.

Wallace sat in front of the desk of the County Prosecutor. James Elroy was fairly new in the job. He had been a U.S. Attorney serving both in Washington D.C. and Newark, N.J. Now, as an Atlantic County native he had come back home to practice law. Instead, he took an appointment from the governor to be the new prosecutor. Wallace had only met him a few times, but he liked him.

“So, tell me again what you want me to do”, said Elroy.

“I want you to borrow Sergeant Gwen Phillips from the Cape May county Prosecutors Office”.

“Why again?”

“I want to use her as an undercover officer as we investigate the Nautilus Beach Modeling Agency and the Mariner Trust”.

“Why not use one of my female detectives?”

“No offense, but your female officers won't cut it applying for a modeling job”.

“And, this Qwen Phillips will?”

“Positively. When she was eighteen she won the Miss Wildwood Contest. She also modeled in New York for the Fonter Modeling Agency. She worked there for two years. If the Butlers check her resume' and I'm sure they will, they'll find her listed there as a past employee”.

“Alright, I understand. Now, you intend to have her wired at times. Why?”

“As I've mentioned Derrick Butler, alias Desilvio has a record as a pimp. You and I have an open homicide investigation. We have a victim and possible suspects. What we don't have right now is a motive. Two witnesses have told us that Butler or Desilvio had propositioned them to become prostitutes kicking back part of their earning to him. If he proposes the same thing to our operative I want it on tape”.

“Then, we should have a court order”.

“Exactly, that where you come in”.

“What about Hanes and the Mariner Trust?”

“To be honest with you at this time I don't know. I just have a gut feeling that Hanes and Butler are involved in something. I'm still digging.”

“Here's what I'll do. I'll contact Cape May and try to get Miss Phillips for you. At the same time I'll get a court order for the listening device to be used on the Butler's. Until you can give me evidence of probable cause on the Hanes I won't grant a wire”.

“Fair enough”.

“Do you anticipate any problems with Miss Phillips? By that I mean can she do the job?”

“Yes sir. First of all she is the niece of Doctor Manfred Edwards the former Medical Examiner for Nautilus Beach. I've known her for many years. A few years ago she was one of my students in the Police Academy”.

“How was she scholastically?”

“She graduated at the head of the class”.

Back at headquarters Wallace sent for Sergeant Stiles and Detective Myers. After they were seated he informed them of what he had planned along with the County Prosecutor. He then turned to Myers and said, Carol I'm going to need a favor from you”.

“Such as?”

“How many bedrooms in your apartment?”

“Two”.

“Anyone using one of them?”

“If you mean a live in boy friend, no”.

“What I mean is there might be times when Qwen has to stay over. Can she crash with you?”

“Sure, just as long as she's not moving in permanently”.

“No, but what I do need for awhile at least is a permanent address. If things go right the Butlers will either call or send correspondence in the mail. I don't anything being returned, “No such Addressee”.

“Fine, I'll put her name on the mail box”, said Myers.

“I'll do better than that. I'll have her name with your address registered with the Post Office”.

Turning to Frank Stiles Wallace said, “Frank, you'll do the wiring.

Naturally, she'll wear the wire only when she's to make contact with one or both of the Butler's. If and when she models, no wire. If they proposition her when she's not bugged Qwen's smart enough to stall until such time that she is. Now, if there are any problems let me know now”.

“I hope she likes watching Lavern and Shirley”, said Myers.

“I hope so too”, Wallace responded.

At eight o'clock that evening Wallace sat in his favorite chair in his living room-den talking on the telephone to Sergeant Qwen Phillips of the Cape May County Prosecutors Office. “So that's the drift of it kid. Are you on board?”, he asked.

“Sure, but what makes you think they'll hire me. I'm pushing thirty five. Just between you and me, it's been a long time since I walked down a run way”.

“Do you still have your photo portfolio?”

“Yes, they're either in the attic or the garage”.

“Just show that. Your story is that you've fallen on hard times, recently divorced, need a job, something like that. They seem to like mature women for their models”.

“Hey, I'll give it a try”.

“Good, I've got a place for you to stay while you're in town. I'll introduce you to Carol Myers when you get here. Also I want you to

fill out a change of address with the post office”.

“No problem'.

“O.K. you got the address. We'll see you when you get here tomorrow”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

Undercover

 

Captain Wallace sat at the kitchen table in Detective Carol Myers ground floor apartment. Sitting with him were Myers and Sergeant Frank Stiles. The three of them were waiting for the arrival of Qwen Phillips who hopefully was on her way driving from Cape May Court House, New Jersey.

Myers took a sip of tea from the cup she held in her hand. After placing the cup on the table she looked at Wallace and asked, “Since I'm going to have a new room mate what should I know about her?”

“Well, to me she's almost family. I've known her for the past ten years. She's not only good looking, but very intelligent. I'd put her on a par with you Carol”.

“Is she married?”

“Divorced. That in itself is a sad story. Her brother was in Vietnam and he asked her to write to one of his buddies, Louis Bergen. As a result of the correspondence the two fell in love. At least they thought they were in love. Like most young married couples starting out they struggled financially. After being discharged from the army and then married Lou took a job as a milk man. He made a liveable wage, but just barely. One day an opportunity came up for Qwen to take a job as an investigator with the Cape May County Prosecutors Office. Immediately, Lou questioned her decision. Then, unfortunately the domestic friction and arguments started.

Qwen was then and is now the niece of my best friend, Manfred Edwards.

He knew that eventually that if she insisted on taking the position that eventually she would turn up as a student in the police academy. At that time I was the Director of Training. So, Doc Edwards asked me to talk to both of them about the challenges they would face as a married couple if she went into law enforcement as a profession.

Lou and Qwen drove up from Cape May to her uncles home and there I sat them down and to the best of my ability explained how her entering law enforcement was bound to destroy their marriage. I saw right a way that I was wasting my breath. He insisted that since he loved her he naturally supported her in what ever profession she chose.

At that time he gave me an opening and I said, “You use the word, profession. Right a way we have a difference. Qwen will have a profession. You will have a job. She will be eventually be a trained investigator. You will be a milk man. She will be called out at all times day or night. You will wonder where she is and what she's doing. She'll have her photograph and name in newspapers while you're placing bottles of milk on back porches.

Each and everyday you will resent it. You will resent that in your mind you think that she has outclassed you, professionally, and financially. And, unfortunately the resentment will grow, the arguments will increase and you will demand that she give up her position. She won't and the marriage is over. Don't get me wrong. There is nothing wrong with being a milkman. Actually, you will be the victim of male ego for the reasons I just mentioned.”.

“What happened then?', asked Myers.

“Exactly what I predicted. Qwen stayed in law enforcement and Lou eventually left. The last I heard of him after the divorce is that he went back to Michigan. I think he's in Flint, building Buick’s”.

“Well, all I've got to say is, good for her”, said Myers.

“Are you speaking as a cop or a woman?”, asked Stiles.

“Both”.

A car drove into Carol Myer's driveway and she got up from the table and went to the front door. Opening it she saw an attractive woman standing behind the open trunk lid of a dark blue late model Ford.

“Do you need any help?”, asked Carol.

“If you don't mind”, the woman answered.

“I've got two grown men in here, one of them can lift anything you have that's heavy”.

“No, all I have is a small suitcase and a cosmetic case. If someone could get my portfolio I'd appreciate it”, said Qwen Phillips.

“Come on in. I'll get it. By the way, I'm Carol Myers. Seems that we're going to be room mates for awhile”.

“Qwen Phillips, thanks for having me”.

Wallace and Stiles met the woman in the living room. “Hi Kid”, said Wallace.

“Hello Wally”.

After introductions the four police officers sat discussing the case and Qwen Phillips assignment. “Frank here will be placing the wire on you each and every time you need to wear it. At the same time he will be out of sight either outdoors or in a different secure location in a building. What you say or do will be recorded. The tapes will then be transcribed and used as evidence in the event an arrest is made,” said Wallace.

“Alright, what am I looking for?”, asked Qwen.

Wallace handed Phillips a photograph. “This is an old mug shot of

Dominick Desilvio, also known as Daniel Barns or Derrick Butler. This photo was taken by the Philadelphia Police when they busted him for pandering. He's slightly heavier and is gray at the temples now.

We have witnesses that have stated that he propositioned them to go into prostitution working for him. What we're really looking for is a motive for the killing of Pauline Harris.”

“So what you want on tape is him propositioning me”, said Phillips.

“That and more. We know that the Butler agency is using middle age housewives as models for most of their convention clients. Carol will give you their names later. There is a strange connection between the Butler's and a married couple named Hanes. We want to know just what the connection is”.

“Why is it strange?”

Hanes is a stockbroker, Butler's a pimp. Yet, they're together socially once in awhile. It doesn't figure”.

“Anything else?”, asked Phillips.

“Yes, you'll probably deal with Erica butler first. What you need to know is that she is a hard ass business woman. She's the type that does all of the talking. You on the other hand are expected to sit and listen. She's short and dumpy, wears a lot of makeup particularly eye shadow and mascara. Her clothes are expensive, but probably purchased with deals made with the designers after she agrees to show them at conventions. In short she's tough, “said Myers.

“Take the next two days to get familiar with Nautilus Beach. Do a little window shopping. After that make contact. Go to the Butler Agency and apply for a modeling position. Show your portfolio. When she mentions that it is outdated that's when you cry poor mouth, divorce, no job, bills the whole bit. Got it?”, asked Wallace.

“Yep, now Carol, if you'd show me my room, I'll unpack”, said Qwen.

“Come with me”.

“I'll try not to take up too much room. I know this has to be an imposition on your part”.

“Just a bit. Nonetheless, make yourself at home.”.

“Thank you”.

Two days later at eight o'clock in the morning Sergeant Stiles sat on Carol Myers couch. As he did he placed a minute adhesive strip to the inside of the leather strip attached to Qwen Phillip's pocket book. To the adhesive strip he then placed a transmitter the size of a postage stamp.

“Alright. Now I'm going outside. I'll be in my car. I want you two to have a conversation. That way I'll be able to see if our bug is working properly”, said Stiles.

“What should we talk about?”, asked Myers.

“I don't care. Talk about anything”.

When Stiles went outside Myers stood in front of the picture window watching the Sergeant as he got into the unmarked radio car. When she saw him seated she turned to Qwen and said, “Did you notice that besides being overweight and balding Sergeant Stiles is also a pain in the ass. Did you get that Sergeant Stiles?”, she said.

Stiles came back into the apartment. “Very funny. The bug works fine. You're all set Qwen.

“Then, here we go”, Phillips replied.

“Remember, I'll be outside across the street. Just be natural. The bug will pick up your conversation. As it does I'll be recording it on another piece of equipment”.

“Got it”.

That evening Robert Wallace sat in his living room with Frank Stiles ready to listen to the first tape recording of the conversation between Erica Butler and Qwen Phillips. Stiles pushed the PLAY button on the tape recorder.

Erica Butler: “And, why did you come to me?”

Qwen Phillips: “I need a job. I'm experienced and you're the

closest modeling agency in South Jersey”.

Erica Butler: “You say that you're experienced. Who have you

worked for?”

Qwen: The Fonter Agency in New york”.

Erica: Oh, I see. I am very familiar with Fonter. How is Shirley?”

Qwen: “You must mean Sonja, the owner. There was no Shirley

when I was there”.

Erica: “Oh yes, how stupid of me. Sonja of course. Anyway, let me

see your portfolio”.

Qwen: These photos were taken a few years ago. Right now I

can't afford to have new pictures taken. But, it does show

how I looked then and if you don't mind me saying so I don't

think I've aged that much”.

Erica:” I'll be the judge of that. You say you're divorced. Do you

have any children?”

Qwen: “No”

Erica: Then you have no stretch marks, no scars?”

Qwen: “No”

Erica: “Stand up and turn around. I want to look at your legs”.

Qwen: The sound of getting up out of a chair.

Erica: “Lift the hem of your dress so I can see your thighs”.

Qwen: “Is this high enough?”

Erica: “Yes, I want to see if you can model swim wear and

lingerie'”.

Qwen: “Do I pass inspection?”

Erica: “For the moment. How old are you?”

Qwen: I'm thirty five”.

Erica: “I do use female models in their thirties, so in that

regard you will fit in with the others. Now, about

your hair”.

Qwen: “What about it?”

Erica: “This henna color. It can't be real”.

Qwen: “Well, it is. My hairdresser use to tell me that I am

what is called a ginger-blond”.

Erica: “So, you have a hairdresser”.

Qwen: “I said, use to. I do my own now”.

Erica: “Actually, it doesn't matter. If need be wigs can be

worn. Alright, let me get right to the point. I'll hire you

part time. You get between two hundred and four

hundred dollars a day. I then withhold a certain percentage

as my fee. Right now, I have two fashion shows scheduled.

One in August, the other after Labor Day. See my secretary.

She will give you the necessary forms to fill out. Sign them

and I'll be in touch, either by telephone or mail, or both.

Welcome to the agency”.

Qwen: “Thank you very much Mrs. Butler”.

Erica: Call me Erica. All my girls do”.

Stiles stopped the recorder and then pushed REWIND. Looking at Wallace he asked, “Well, what do you think?”

“She's in. Did you notice how Erica tried to trip her up when it came to the Fonter Agency? She inquired about a Shirley, probably knowing no such person existed there”.

“Yeah, but Qwen caught it right a way”, said Stiles.

“Another thing, that new bug she's wearing is putting out a nice, strong signal”, said Wallace as he got up and went to his desk. There he lifted the telephone receiver and dialed Carol Myers number.

“Hello”, answered Myers.

“That's exactly what I was afraid of”, said Wallace.

“What are you talking about?”

“You, answering the telephone?”

“Who else would answer it?”

“Do you have an answering service with your phone?”

“Yes, but I never use it”.

“I want you to use it.

“Why?'

“Because you interviewed Erica Butler. If she calls there wanting to speak to Qwen and you answer there's a chance she'll recognize your voice”.

“Alright. There. I just engaged it”.

“Thank you. How's things going?”

“So far so good. We're not sitting around in our pajamas setting each others hair, but we're getting along”.

“Thanks again for all that you're doing. I appreciate it”.

“You're welcome Cap. Good night”.

 

The next morning, Wallace met with Detective McKenna. “Alright, what have you got?”, asked the Captain.

“Nothing, not even a sunburn. If the Butler's were on board the U Owe Me then they're hiding in the cabin. I scanned the boat as we followed all through the Inlet to the dock using binoculars Then I went on the dock and watched John Hanes unload his catch. He had some nice tuna, but so far no winner. Anyway I stayed long enough to see that neither Derrick or Erica Butler were there”.

“If anyone of the Butlers will be on board it will be Derrick. O.K. go out again tomorrow. That's the last day. Meanwhile, see Sergeant Stiles. He'll bring you up to date on the Harris case”.

“Yes sir”.

When McKenna left his office Wallace again turned to the news articles and press photo's that Mary had sent him. He then returned to the February 9, 1972 piece about Hanes and insider trading. “Why would a successful stock broker get involved in insider trading? Then again, why wouldn't a successful stock broker get involved in insider trading? In order to buy or sell stock in insider trading, the broker has to have the knowledge of when to buy and sell before all others in the market. If Hanes is or was involved in the illegal transaction of stocks and bonds, then where, how and from whom is he getting the information?”, he asked himself mentally. On his note pad he wrote down, “Talk to Elroy about insider trading case, Hanes”.

He looked up to see Stiles entering the office. “What's up?”, asked Wallace.

“Myers just called in. She said that she'll be late, but she has some information”.

Wallace glanced at his wristwatch. “O.K. Did she say what it was?”

“Nope”.

Captain Wallace continued looking through the press clippings. He picked up and examined a press photograph. It showed five women dressed in the latest fashion. They were all standing together, all wearing large wide rimmed hats and they were smiling. Wallace read the caption.

“ Local Models Appeared at Opening Day At The Races. Models from the Nautilus Beach Modeling Agency wore and displayed the latest fall fashions at the opening day festivities at the Atlantic City Race Track. The models from left to right are, Mary Ann Bell, Charlotte Deviny, Hilda Speck, Martha Hanes and Amanda Wells”. He set the photograph aside.

At five minutes past ten in the morning Detective Carol Myers walked into the office of Captain Wallace. When she reached his desk she placed a white bag containing Styrofoam cups of coffee and tea a blueberry muffin and a lemon doughnut. After removing the tea and muffin from the bag she sat down.

“Alright, you've just proved that you know the way to the Captains heart. Thank you. Now, tell me what this information is”, said Wallace.

Qwen and I went out last night. We had dinner than took in a movie.

When we got home there was a message on the answering machine. When I played it back it was Erica Butler. Briefly what she said was, “I need to know your shoe size. Call me at the office I'll be there after eight in the morning.”

“Did Qwen make the call this morning?”, asked Wallace.

“Certainly. I had her wait until eight twenty. When she made the call

I listened in on the telephone in my bedroom”.

“And, what did you hear?”

“Basically that the models will be showing the fashions of Paul Downs from New Zealand. It seems that he's pushing wool this season”.

“And?”

“That Derrick would be picking her up here at the house. She is to be ready by no later than nine in the morning”.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, I found this interesting. Erica said, “Martha Hanes will talk to you at the convention center. She is responsible for all of the girls in general and you in particular. Listen to her and you could go a long way”.

“That can be interpreted in all kinds of ways”, said Wallace.

“Exactly'.

“Well, for now, let's keep an open mind. When is this fashion show?”

“August the third”.

“Where in the convention center?”

“The ballroom. The main floor of the center is being used for display and information booths”.

“Who are the conventioneers?”

“Drilling companies from Canada. I didn't get the name. United something or other”, said Myers.

“Good. Anything else?”

“Yes sir and I don't mean to be a pain in the ass but if this arrangement is going to be long term certain things have to be considered”.

“Such as?”

“Such as groceries, water and electric. With Qwen in with me living expenses have doubled. I hate to bring it up, but no one figured the expenses on my part”.

“How's the pantry right now?”

“Running low”.

Wallace turned the swivel chair toward the safe on the floor. He leaned over, dialed numbers then opened the heavy steel door. He took out a hundred dollars and handed it Myers. “Here, go shopping. If you need more let me know. Right now go to your desk and type me up a report indicating that you received a hundred from me and what it is for.

You said you both went out to dinner last night. I bet you didn't get a receipt”.

“No I didn't”.

“Where did you eat?'

“MacDonald s”.

“Sorry, I can't help you. No tickee, no washee”.

“Doesn’t matter, we each paid for our own burger”.

When Myers left Wallace leaned back in the high back chair and began thinking and re-thinking the Harris case. “O.K. what do we have?

The Harris girl was strangled. Her body was dropped into the waters of Great Bay. How do we know this? Because the dress she was wearing picked up bethenic algae a blue-green algae that grows on the bottom in the shallow waters of the bay. As a result of this we know that Pauline Harris was on board a boat. Which boat? Was it the “Model Life or the U Owe Me?

Who ever dropped her body into the water did so on the out going tide. That somebody is familiar with boats, local waters and tides with the full moon. A rip tide. They also know that that rip tide is capable of taking objects like a dead body out to sea.

The Harris girl was wearing a thousand dollar designer dress. She also wore a seven thousand dollar Rolex wristwatch. Robbery was not the motive. At the same time her pocketbook has not turned up. Where is it?

Was it tossed over the side of the boat at the same time or is it somewhere else?”

Was the girl killed on land or on a boat? If on land, where? If on a boat which one? Why was she killed? When I examine the statements made by Rodman and Baker there is evidence of them being propositioned into being employed by Butler as prostitutes. They refused. They're still alive. The medical examiner stated in her report that there was no sign of vaginal sexual activity. Pauline Harris was therefore not promiscuous. If she was propositioned and if she refused just like the other two girls then, why was she killed?

The Butler Agency models are mature, married women. They are the society types. They belong to the same clubs and charity organizations. The live the same life style. They live in the same affluent neighborhoods.

Why does a banker who would have no trouble acquiring a mortgage owe

Mariner Trust?

Why would someone like John Hanes, a stock broker associate with the likes of Derrick Butler, a pimp? What is their connection?

Wallace leaned forward in the chair, picked up a ballpoint pen and wrote down several notes on the yellow, blue lined pad on his desk. Just as he finished, the telephone rang.

“Major Crime Squad, Captain Wallace”, he answered.

“Hi, this is Emily”.

“Well, hello.Is this call professional related or personal related?”

“Personal”.

“You have my complete attention”.

“How would you like to have dinner tonight at my place?”

“I think I would like it very much”.

“I'm thinking a filet mignon, baked potato, a salad and desert”.

“Sounds great”.

“How do you like your filet?”

“Medium well”.

“That's pink, right?”

“Right”.

“Say we eat around eight?”

“I'll be there at seven thirty”.

“No earlier. I have a lot of things to do”.

“See you then”.

“Bye”.

After Emily hung up, Wallace dialed another number.

“Harry's Liquors”, said a man.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, that you Wally?'

“Harry, pick me out a nice bottle of Cabernet Savignon. I'll pick it up on my way home”.

“I suggest Ingelnook “.

“How much?”

“Fifty six dollars”.

“Got anything else?'

“Sure, a hundred and twenty nine dollars”.

“I'll take your first offer”.

“Shall I wrap it?”

“For fifty six dollars you should chill it, uncork it, and serve it. Just put it in a brown paper bag”.

“Anything else?”

“Not right now Harry. Bye”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

Propositioned

 

On Monday morning, as usual the members of the Major Crime Squad sat drinking coffee waiting for Captain Wallace to start the conversation. When he did he directed his attention to Detective Myers.

“How's it going Carol?”

“Do you mean with my room mate?'

“Yes”.

“Good. So far she's not in my way. Both of us in the same line of work makes for some interesting conversations.”

“What about finances?”

“Right now things are good. If I need more money I'll let you know”.

“No problem, just remember receipts”.

“Yes sir'.

“Now, for the rest of you. Before I left here on Friday night I sat here and brainstormed this case. When I was finished if I could have stood up and kicked myself in the ass I would have. I and we, that means all of us missed one very important fact and necessary piece of information”.

“Are you going to tell us what we missed or are we going to have to guess?”, asked Stiles.

“Erica Butler has called here twice bitching and raising hell about the Kalinka dress”.

“Yeah so?”, said Mckenna.

“She's never inquired about a pocketbook”.

“Maybe the Harris girl didn't have one”, said Stiles.

“Carol? What do you think?”

“I can't say for certain. However, it seems to me that if Pauline Harris wore a Kalinka dress in a fashion show she might have carried a designer purse at the same time. Also, if the murderer was unaware of the value of the dress they would also be unaware of a valuable pocketbook. Like most women, Pauline would have had a purse or pocketbook with her either the designer bag or her own bag”.

“Exactly, but which one? And, why hasn't Erica Butler mentioned the pocketbook?”

“Could be that she has it”, said Mckenna.

“I'm thinking the same way Tom”, said Wallace.

“What next Cap?”, asked Myers.

“I want you to talk to Alison Harris. See if she remembers what her sister wore the night she left home for the fashion show. In particular what kind of purse or pocketbook she had”.

“Got it. Anything else?”

“Yes, tell Qwen to try and find out about the missing bag. She'll know how to do it. At the same time let us know when she is going to make contact so Frank can place the bug”.

“Can I make a suggestion?', asked Myers.

“Certainly”.

“Did anyone check the shoe the victim was wearing?”

“Check it for what?”

“Make, model. cost, things like that”.

“No, there again, something we missed. Good thinking Myers”.

“Thank you. I'll look at the shoe when I come back. Right now I have to see a teenage girl who is out of school for the summer and could be anywhere”.

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

Detective Myers sat across from the sofa in the living room of the Harris family. On the couch were Alison Harris and her mother. Standing and occasionally pacing the floor was Douglas Harris.

“Alison, I need to ask you a few questions about the last time you saw your sister. Your mother and father are here at my request so that they know why I'm making this inquiry. Are you ready?”

“Yes”.

“Good, tell me about the last time you saw and spoke to your sister”.

“We were in her bedroom. She had set her hair and was getting dressed. As she did we talked about her being in her first fashion show”.

“For the moment, let's talk about what Pauline was wearing that night,”said Myers.

“Nothing fancy. Jeans, a sweater, tennis shoes. I remember asking her why she was dressing that way to go to a fashion show. She told me that the designer wardrobes that the models were to wear were at the convention center and that they dressed there. She said that Erica Butler determined which model would wear a particular outfit”.

“I see. Did she take a pocketbook or purse with her?”

“Yes. I remember her saying she didn't know about makeup, whether the agency provided it or if she had to provide her own. I watched her place her own makeup in her pocketbook”.

“Can you describe her pocketbook?”

“Yes, it is a brown shoulder bag”.

“Was it expensive?”

“No. I was with her when she bought it at K-Mart. I think she paid fifteen or eighteen dollars for it”.

Myers wrote the information in her notebook. “Can you remember any of the conversation both of you had that night?”, she asked.

“Let me think. I remember her saying that she and the other models were going to wear expensive fashions, binka, minka, something like that”.

“Did she say Kalinka?”

“Yes, that's it”.

“Anything else?”

“As she was putting on her tennis shoes she said she wondered what style shoes she would be wearing. All she knew was that Erica Butler had her shoe size”.

“How was she when she left?”

“Do you mean what kind of a mood was she in?”

“Yes”.

“Happy go lucky. She stood by the front door waiting for Mr. Butler to pick her up and take her to the convention center. That was the last time I saw my sister”, said Alison as she began to cry.

Back at headquarters Captain Wallace answered the ringing telephone on his desk. “Major Crime Squad Captain Wallace”.

“Wally? This is Qwen. Erica Butler just called here and wants me to come in”.

“How soon?'

“I stalled her, telling her I had a bad tooth and needed to see a dentist”.

“Did she buy it?'

“Evidently. She told me to come in when I was finished'.

“O.K. I'm sending Frank over to set up the bug. When you get there sometime during your conversation bring up the subject of handbags. I want to hear what the boss lady has to say about them”.

“I will, but as near as I can make out she wants to see me about the upcoming fashion show, things like what color goes well with my complexion, high heels or flats, things like that”.

“Alright, everything else going smooth?”

“Yes, I feel terrible about imposing on Carol. Can't we make other living arrangements?”

“Not at the moment, but I do have something in mind. Let me work on it”.

“Fine. I'll wait for Sergeant Stiles. Bye”.

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

Qwen Phillips took a seat in front of the desk of Erica Butler who sat in a black, leather covered, high back desk chair. After sitting Qwen crossed her legs. She was wearing black slacks. Inside the bottom of the pant leg there was an attached listening device. When Phillips crossed her legs the bug was in a position to pick up any sound or conversation. Outside and across the street in an unmarked van Frank Stiles sat waiting to record any words issued by Phillips and Erica butler.

“So Sweety, what did the dentist say?”, asked Erica.

“You know dentist, just as soon as you open your mouth they say root canal”.

“Are you going to have it done?”

“It doesn't ache right now. I'll think it over”.

“That's up to you. The reason I called you in is to go over a few things.

As you know we will be displaying wool at this show. What I have in mind for you is an outfit that requires you wearing knee high boots. Would you have a problem with that?”

“High heel or flat?”

“High heel”.

“No, just as long as I have time to walk in them before going out on the runway”.

“Excellent, but let me make a note of it right now. As you can imagine

things can get hectic once the show begins”.

“You mention the boots, what type of pocketbook will I carry?”

“None, the first outfit I've selected for you is a hooded parka with matching sweater and ski pants. It might seem to be out of season, but we'll be showing to Canadians”.

“Just as well. I don't like carrying one when I model. I either display it too much or too little according to the designer”.

“That can happen”.

“And, the prices. I've seen some so expensive that they were insured by Lloyds of London”.

“Don't talk to me about insurance. I have a dress being held now by the police as evidence and I can't collect from my insurance company. It looks like I'll, have to pay the designer”.

“Who made the dress?”

“Kalinka”.

“Oh my. They are expensive”.

“Oh yes, that number was worth over a thousand dollars”.

“Wow!. I modeled a Kalinka sometime ago. As I recall it was a little cocktail number. I can't remember if I carried a pocketbook or purse. If I did I’m sure that it was expensive, just like the dress”.

“Well, I got lucky with the pocketbook. The girl that was murdered was carrying a Nancy Gonzalez, black, crocodile fringe cross body clutch bag worth twenty seven hundred dollars. Fortunately my husband took it from her when she came off the runway”.

“It's a shame he didn't get the dress”.

“As far as I know she was to wear it to a private showing for the wife of one of the conventioneers. She never showed up. Next thing we knew her body washed up on the beach”.

“How sad”.

“Yes, Pauline was only eighteen years old. I tried hiring younger models. Two of them quit and then the last one was according to the police, murdered. I have now decided to stay with my more matured

girls”.

“You mentioned private showings. How does that work?”

“I really don't know too much about it. That's something that Martha Hanes came up with. I see it as another way for the models to make additional money. I don't want to get involved in it. I have enough problems with what I've got”.

“Well, I'd be interested in making extra money. Things have been rough since my divorce”.

“Like I said dear, I don't know too much about it. I suggest that you talk to Martha”.

 

In the late afternoon Robert Wallace sat in the last row of seats high in the balcony of the ballroom, located in the convention center. As he did he watched the female models of the Nautilus Beach Modeling Agency

walk down the runway and back again. The women were wearing wool designs created in New Zealand by Paul Downs. Although it was August the fashion show was displayed at the request of Drilling Companies from Canada, their executives, employees, and relatives. “I'm sitting here in an air conditioned building, wearing a blazer and sweating my ass off. Down there those women are parading back and forth dressed in wool. They have to be uncomfortable”, he thought to himself.

Fortunately, Erica Butler introduced each model by their first name saying such things as; “And, here is Charlotte wearing a black, wool, evening coat”. As Erica introduced each model and fashion Wallace was able to see and identify each one of the women. He paid particular attention to Erica Butler, Qwen Phillips and Martha Hanes.

To his surprise from where he was sitting Erica Butler was better looking than he thought she would be. She was seated, but he noticed the black, short hair style. The black, ten button pantsuit she wore along with the white silk blouse was expensive and what she wore she wore well. He judged her to be about forty or forty five years old. By the tone of her voice here at the convention and from the experience of a telephone conversation he had with her he knew first hand that she came off as firm, aggressive, and sure of herself. “Interesting”,he thought.

When Martha Hanes was introduced he leaned forward in his seat.

Like Erica Mrs. Hanes wore her hair short, only she was blond and in his opinion her hair was styled in what they called a pixie cut. Myers had been right. All of these hometown housewives were attractive, but Mrs. Hanes was more than that, she was beautiful. The black and white, old, press photographs he had seen didn't do her justice. Now, seeing her and the other women hired by Erica Butler although amateur and part time models, their looks allowed them to appear as professional.

As he watched them, knowing that they were all close, high school sorority sisters at one time he wondered what secrets they had then. “What secrets do they have now? Which one holds the key to solving the murder of Pauline Harris? Is it really only one, or more?”, he thought.

Before the fashion show was to end Wallace got up out of the balcony seat, went through the exit and entered the long, concrete hallway. He walked down several flight of stairs and entered the parking garage underneath the convention center. There, he unlocked the door to the unmarked radio car, opened the door and sat behind the steering wheel. After starting the engine he drove off, driving up the steep ramp that led to the street.

At eight o'clock that evening members of the Major Crime Squad met again in the home of Detective Myers. After listening to the tape recorded conversation between Qwen Phillips and Erica Butler Captain Wallace got up out of the living room chair and went to his briefcase that was on top of the dining room table. He opened it and removed a large yellow note pad.

Returning to his chair he took a ballpoint pen out of his shirt pocket and looking at Qwen Phillips said, “O.K., let me hear what you have”.

“What I have I think you will find very interesting. After the show I was back stage putting on my street clothes when I was approached by

Martha Hanes. As she stood next to me she spoke in a low voice, low enough that the conversation we were about to have could only be heard by us and no one else.”

“And what did she say?”, asked Wallace's.

“She said, I understand that you want to make some extra money. I said that I did. Then she said, After the fashion shows some of the clients have private parties. Sometimes they like our models to serve as hostesses, if you know what I mean. A smart woman can make a nice income. At the same time we look for certain information, particularly from corporate types. We would want you to ask about their company. Is it about to merge or sell? Is it prospering or is it in trouble financially? You see this kind of information will get one a nice bonus from time to time”.

Wallace stopped writing. “So, instead of Derrick Butler doing the pimping, it's Martha Hanes as the madam. However, what you've just told us makes sense, that Martha Hanes would be running this kind of operation. If the woman prostitutes herself, the money she receives is really incidental. What she really wants is information, corporate or business information that her husband, the stock broker can use as insider trades”.

“That's the way I see it Captain”, said Qwen.

“Anything else?', asked Wallace.

“I asked if all of the other models did this sort of thing. She said they did. Then I asked if she had a client for me at the time. She said no, but since I was open to her suggestion she would see to it that I have a client or two at the next convention show”.

“When is the next convention?”

“Labor Day weekend”.

“What's coming in?”

“Solar and wind energy companies”.

“Alright. I'll take a room and put an undercover officer in it. Frank, I want you to figure out how to plant the bug on Qwen. What we need is Martha Hanes setting up the trick. In the meantime, I have to do some studying on alternate energy company stocks so we can give a bullshit story to the Hanes. I'll see if Bill O'Neil will play the part of a John. After all he's the head of the vice Squad and this is a prostitution ring”.

“Anybody want to hear what I have to say?”, asked Myers.

“Certainly”, Wallace replied.

“I finally got around to checking on the one shoe we found on Pauline Harris. It's a Vince Camuso, black, kitten heel pump. The shoes sell for sixty dollars”.

Wallace looked at Qwen and then Carol. “Has Erica mentioned the shoes to anyone of you?”, he asked.

“No”, they both answered.

“Well, when you're concerned about a thousand dollar dress and a two thousand dollar pocketbook one might not worry about a pair of sixty dollar shoes. Nonetheless, let's keep the shoes in mind”.

“Anything else?', asked Stiles.

“Yeah, Qwen, either call or go in to see Erica. If and when you get there tell her that you're moving. Your new address is the Chelsea Apartments, apartment 408. The reason you are moving is because you and your room mate don't get along. In talking to your mother you found that a friend of her's, Doctor Emily Wescoat lives in Nautilus Beach. You contacted her and she has invited you to come live with her”.

“Hey Captain, Qwen doesn't have to move on my account”, said Myers.

“Take it easy Carol. You're not the reason I'm moving her. All of us now have a lot of time and effort invested in this case. I don't want to blow it by having anyone of them, models, agency owners or stockbrokers accidentally discovering that Qwen is living with a cop. Even the fact that she will now be living with a pathologist and the Medical Examiner is risky enough, but that's the chance I have to take. Speaking of chances, now that they think that Qwen is a potential member of the hooker stable they might want to come visiting. Qwen, tell Erica that you're moving, but don't know when. Actually it will be this Friday. Doctor Wescoat is in the process of setting up your room. Also, change your address again with the Post Office”.

“No problem. I assume that Doctor Wescoat is agreeable to this move”, said Phillips.

“Yes, she's agreeable”, Wallace answered.

“Well, I'm going to miss you Carol. Thanks for everything”, said Qwen.

“I still wish you could stay”, Myers replied.

The next morning Captain William O'Neil sat in Captain Wallace's office. “So, I've had a bunch of housewives working conventions as hookers for the past couple of years and no one was aware of it”, said O'Neil.

“Hey don't feel bad. They were operating at the same time when

I commanded the vice squad. I didn't know about it then.”, Wallace answered.

“Alright what do you have in mind?”

“I want you to pose as a conventioneer, one that attended the fashion show and after seeing Qwen wants a private showing”.

“Did you get me a room?”

“Yeah, room 708 and 710 at the Sandpiper Hotel. You're registered as a Mister Donald Trainer. Your convention credentials that you will be wearing reads that you work as the vice president of Amalgamated Energy. I want you to wear a wire. Get Martha Hanes to make a move, such as price or anything else she might have in mind. At the same time look out for this guy. This is Derrick butler, AKA Daniel Barns or Dominick Desilvio. He's been busted for pimping and pandering. I could take him right now for failing to register, but that's a chicken shit charge that I'll only use if I have too”, said Wallace as he handed O'Neil the mug shot photo of Butler.

“This Martha Hanes? What does she look like?”

“Blond, very attractive. Here's a press photo of her with her husband”.

“O'Neil studied the black and white press picture. “Good looking woman. Tell you what. Since I'm coming in on this investigation I want to use my own crew”.

“How”, asked Wallace.

“I'll wear the wire, but it will be my wire. My crew will be in the next room taping”.

“You don't need to tape a conversation between you and Qwen”.

“You're right, but if things go right I will want to tape a conversation between me and Mrs. Hanes in that room”.

“Good thinking”.

“I had a good teacher, you”.

“O.K. we team up. Together we work the homicide and the prostitution angle”.

“Right, now what can you tell me about this Erica Butler?”

“Bill, at this moment I can't say that she is directly involved. I think she is aware of what's going on, but doesn't want to be involved in it. Not literally anyway”.

“If this guy she says she's married to is a pimp, then I'm guessing she knows more than you're seeing”.

“I thought that too. In fact, I was surprised as hell when the Hanes woman made the proposition to our girl. I was certain that Derrick Butler would have made the move on her”.

“It could be that he's been told to stay out of it as far as making arrangements. A guy like him, a street pimp just might be too crude for this operation. What's his role in the modeling business?”

“He's more or less a go for, a chauffeur, a delivery boy if you will. He drives the girls to the show, packs and unpacks the costumes things like that”.

“It would be interesting to see if he drives the women to their after show meetings. From what you've told me, these gals come from money and local society. The fact that they've been able to function without being detected this long tells me that they don't and won't take a chance with a rough customer. A guy like him would supply the muscle if things went wrong”.

“I agree, except he's a little shit”.

“What I'll do if things go right is use one of my squad to tail him.

If he does what I think he'll do we'll observe and photograph him. We have that new night photography equipment. Might as well use it”.

“If what you're thinking is so, then the women must have a way of contacting him in an emergency”.

“Hey, we bug. What's stopping him from doing the same? Think about it. The guy already knows the room number. All he has to do is sit in the hotel lobby with a small receiver in his ear while he pretends to read a newspaper or magazine. If it's a motel. He sits out front in his automobile, If they're smart they'll already have a room reserved for private showings to be held. That way he's probably right next door”.

“Makes sense”.

“O.K. Wally, keep me advised. I'll start getting things ready”.

“Talk to you later Bill'.

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

Robert Wallace stood in the doorway of Emily Wescoat's spare bedroom. “You're sure this isn't gong to be an inconvenience?”, he asked.

“No, as a matter of fact I look forward to having company. It gets pretty monotonous looking at four walls and talking to one's self”.

“Well, thanks again Emily. This is a big help. Just remember that you are a friend of Qwen Phillips mother”.

“Where did we meet again?”

“Wildwood. You were thinking of living there and was looking for a place to rent. That's when you met Carol's mother. She's a realtor”.

“What's her name?”

“Shit! I forgot to ask. I'll have to get back to you”.

“Fine”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

Amalgamated Energy

 

Robert Wallace read and then re-read all of the reports submitted in relation to the Pauline Harris homicide case. After reading one of Tom McKenna's reports he called for the young detective to come to his office.

McKenna entered with a worried look on his face. “Yes sir? You want to see me?”, he asked.

Wallace smiled. Have a seat. When you went to the boat works and found out why the U Owe Me was in dry dock, someone told you it was to replace a propeller. Is that correct?”

“Yes sir”.

“Was whoever you talked with co-operative?”

“Yes sir, no problem”.

“Do you think if you went back there, you could get the prop they took off the U Owe Me and take it as evidence?”

“One way or another”.

“Good, do it. I got a feeling that this propeller thing is important”.

“I'm on my way.”

“Bye”.

When McKenna left, Wallace dialed Emily Wescoat's home telephone number. After a few minutes she answered. “Hello”.

“It's me”.

“Hello me”.

“Did Qwen get there yet?”

“Yes, she's unpacking right now”.

“Good, is there any problem of me coming there tonight. I want to go over a couple of things with her”.

“No problem at all. As a matter of fact, why don't you come for dinner?”

“Can I bring anything?”

“No, it's spaghetti and meatballs. I have the bread. If you want wine, that's up to you”.

“I don't need it. What time?”

“How about seven thirty again. That seems to work”.

“See you then. Bye”.

At eight o'clock that evening Robert Wallace wiped the red spaghetti sauce from his mouth with a paper napkin. He then spoke to Qwen Phillips. “So what is going to happen is that Captain O'Neil will ask for a special showing by you. We're going to try again to see if Erica Butler is involved one way or another in the prostitution racket. In any event Bill will certainly make contact with Martha Hanes.

Naturally, you will agree and go to his room. After an hour you leave the room. I suggest that you mess up your hair and makeup a bit. We want you to appear that you just got out of bed, if you know what I mean.

I don't think I have to use a bug. O'Neil is using his equipment and two going at the same time could create interference”.

“I can't wear a bug anyway. Erica has me modeling swim wear. That means bikini's”.

“Perfect, that gives Bill reason enough to request your services”.

“You mean besides being a man?”, asked Emily.

“Oh that hurts. However, Bill O'Neil is a happily, Irish Catholic, married man with five children”.

“Do you want me to have any knowledge about the energy company to tell Martha?”

“Yes, but not too much. That way Martha Hanes when invited to Donald trainers room will be there to conduct business as well as trying to find out for herself what the business statistics of Amalgamated Energy are.”.

“Just out of curiosity, what are the statistics?”

“Actually, at this time, worthless. It's what is known as penny stocks.

Nonetheless, if Bill convinces her that he's real and John Hanes buys Amalgamated Energy Stock and does a pump and dump scheme that gives us further evidence of insider trading.”

“What's pump and dump?”, asked Emily'

“It's a form of stock fraud that involves artificially inflating the price of an owned stock through false and misleading statements. The buyers buy and the market value increases. Then, a guy like Hanes quickly sells and the market drops. Guys like Hanes make money, by selling the stock as a broker and as a stockholder”.

“But, it doesn't give you a murderer”, said Qwen.

“No, not yet, but little by little it's all coming together”.

On September 1, 1978 the beach resort town of Nautilus Beach, New Jersey population of forty thousand expanded to one hundred thousand with the influx of conventioneers and summer visitors. Practically every hotel room in the resort was booked and filled. Crowds of people walked the boardwalk and paved streets. Groups of pedestrians crossed the streets against the red light or jaywalked causing the honking of automobile horns and curse words from angry drivers. This was the beginning of Labor Day weekend. It was also the beginning of the end of the summer season for the year. Local merchants were now in the position where they had to make as much profit as possible in order to survive a lack of business in the off season.

The energy convention was also the last fashion show of the season for the Nautilus Beach Modeling Agency. Robert Wallace sat with pen and pad and wrote down, “ Seven conventions. Five thousand per show, salaries to models. Boat, waterfront home, other expenses, don't figure?”

“How can the Butlers afford the lifestyle they live? At best they'll make thirty five thousand dollars this season. Then, there are expenses, taxes,

license fees. The models kick back. What? Eighty dollars? Four hundred a show”, figures don't add up. Insider trade suspected, still, not enough, Drugs? No evidence or mention of drugs. What else? What would go with insider information. Sex and talk? Sex and extortion?....Bingo!..that could be it”, Wallace thought.

He went to the telephone and called Bill O'Neil at home. “Hello”, said Bill when he answered the phone.

“Bill? Wally. I've been sitting here wondering just how in the hell the modeling agency is able to do business with the amount of money they're pulling in. I thought I covered every angle, legitimate and illegitimate, meaning prostitution and insider trading. However, those still don't add up. I then got an idea that to me makes sense. Extortion. It could be that the models turn the tricks where they're taping and photographing the johns. You more or less hit on it when you suggested that the ring could have one or two rooms set aside in a hotel. Let's suppose they do and let's suppose they have a hidden listening devise and camera in that room”.

“Sounds logical. If so then that puts a new spin on this case. At the same time if I'm asked to meet one of the models in a room other than mine that should be the clue we're looking for. If and when it happens I'll let you know”, said O'Neil.

“Good, meanwhile I'll call Qwen and let her know what's going on”.

“Alright Wally, talk with you later”.

Wallace then dialed the telephone number of Emily Wescoat. “Hello”, she said when she answered.

“Hi, how are you”, he asked.

“Tired. It's been a hectic day. They were standing in line in the emergency room. It seemed that every other person in Nautilus Beach was either cut, sprained, broken, had a mysterious rash or sunburned.'

“Welcome to your first beach resort, Labor Day weekend. Cheer up. Next month you can shoot a cannon ball down main street and you won't hit a thing”.

“Right now I'm looking forward to it”.

“Is Qwen there?”
“Yes, just a moment. Qwen?”

“Hello Wally”.

“Hi kid. Listen, Bill and I just came up with a new angle. It's possible that the models could be using a room in a different location, hotel, motel, hell, it could even be a private dwelling. We think when they turn a trick it's photographed and taped. Then, the video with sound is used to extort money. By no means are you to go to any room other than the one that we have at the Sand Piper Hotel. If anyone suggest that you go anywhere else you don't go. Pretend you're sick, injured, whatever. Understand?”

“Yes, got it”.

“What time is the fashion show tomorrow?”

“There are two shows. The first one is swim wear. That's at eleven in the morning. The next one is a five pm. The display is evening wear”.

“Hmmmm. Normally, one would think that prostitutes operate at night. Not. So, particularly in this case. So, I'll go out on a limb so to speak and guess that Martha Hanes will suggest a sexual rendezvous with Donald Trainer between seven and eight pm.

“The problem might be to get Martha into Captain O'Neils room”, said Qwen.

“Possibly, but I doubt it. This is the big weekend, the final show. The merry wives of the organization will want to make a big score. They'll be anxious to work and Martha Hanes will be looking to set up Donald Trainer

on film. At least that's what I hope happens.”

“Well, we'll see soon, won't we?”

“Yep. O.K. Unless you have any questions I'll talk again to Emily”.

“No, I'll be ready. Emily? Wally wants to talk to you again. Bye Wally'.

“Bye”.

“Hello?”, said Emily.

“Sorry for the interruption, but I had to talk business. Now, I want to talk pleasure. And that is the New York Symphony is scheduled to perform at Hopewell. Would you like to go?”.

“Oh yes. Do you know what the score is?”.

“Beethoven. I know the Ninth Coral Symphony is listed”.

“It sounds delightful. When is it?”

“Saturday, the twenty third. I thought we could stop at a nice little restaurant I know, one that's off the beaten path, have dinner and then motor on up to Hopewell”.

“Do I have to dress”?

“Casual. You have your choice of sitting in a beach chair or sitting on a blanket”.

“I'll take the beach chair”.

“You got it. O.K. I have to go now. I have some things to do and many things to kick around in my mind”.

“Good by, Robert”.

“Bye”

At eleven o'clock the next morning, Captain William O'Neil, posing as conventioneer, Donald Trainer, sat in a first row seat in front of the fashion show's runway. Several seats to his left sat Erica Butler. She was seated behind a small table that contained a petite desk lamp, a microphone, clipboard containing a list of models and the fashions they would be wearing. Butler leaned forward, gave opening comments about the show, introduced the first model, Mary Ann Bell and the fact that she was wearing a Hamilton designed, beach robe, white, made of cotton, and priced at eighty eight dollars.

O'Neil applauded lightly with the rest of the audience as Mary Ann Bell walked towards the backstage.

Next to be introduced was Martha Hanes. “O'Neil sat up straight in his seat wanting to visibly perceive just what this particular woman looked like. Plus, the fact that what she was modeling could be a subject he could use in a conversation with her later. Hanes was wearing a black, bikini priced at four hundred and forty nine dollars. He had to admit to himself that Martha Hanes was not only attractive, she was beautiful, not too tall, not too short and round in the right places.

He waited patiently until Qwen Phillips modeled the same suit only white and deliberately leaned forward in his seat at which time out of the corner of his eye he saw Erica Butler turned her head and look at him.

As Qwen headed towards the backstage O'Neil stood and applauded making it impossible not to be noticed.

At the end of the morning fashion show O'Neil walked over to where Erica butler stood. She looked up from the pile of papers on the table faced him and smiled. “Can I help you?”, she asked.

“I hope so. I understand that in addition to the fashion show at times there are private showings. Are you the one I have to talk to in order to arrange such a thing?”

“No, that would be Martha Hanes. She was the blonde wearing the black bikini, Mister?”

“Trainer, Donald Trainer”, said O'Neil pointing to the name tag pinned to the lapel of his light blue sport coat.

“Of course, Mister Trainer. What I do need to know is what model and fashions you would want for your private showing”, said Butler.

“That's easy. I want the red head. The one that was wearing the white bikini. She can model that and lingerie”.

“I don't see your wife, Mister Trainer”.

“She's back in Pennsylvania. I am sure that after your model is finished I'll be more than satisfied and will look forward to purchasing the fashions you carry”.

“The Mrs. is a lucky woman. If you wait here I'll have Martha speak with you and make arrangements”.

“That's fine. Thank you”.

Five minutes later Martha Hanes stood in front of Captain O'Neil.

“Mister Trainer? I am Martha Hanes. Erica has told me that you would like a private showing. Is that right?”

“Yes it is”.

“And you prefer Qwen Phillps modeling beachwear and lingerie?”

“Correct, if she was the redhead”.

“Fine, the fee for a private show is five hundred dollars an hour. Have you any idea how long of a demonstration you would want?”

“One hour should be enough”, O'Neil answered with a smile.

“So, what you're telling me is that's how long it will take for you to be satisfied?”

“Yes, by then I should know what I want to purchase for my wife”.

“Very good. Now what I need is your hotel. Room number and time”.

“I'm under the impression that there is another show this evening. Is that correct?”

“Yes it is. That will begin a five o'clock. The girls will be wearing casual and sportswear”.

“Excellent, I might see something on that order too, for the wife”.

“Well, the show should end about seven pm. Now what time would you like Qwen to come to your room?”

“Let's see. I have to have dinner, talk business with a few people.

Is eight thirty or nine this evening alright?”

“No problem mister Trainer. Now, I need the hotel and room number”.

“Oh, of course. The Sand Piper Hotel room 708. do I pay you now, or the model later?”

“You pay the model after she has rendered her services”.

“I see. Thank you”.

“Thank you Mr. Trainer. I hope you have a very satisfying evening”.

“Before you go. Suppose I want you to model for me privately?”

“Do you mean along with Qwen?”

“No. There would be just you and me”.

“Martha Hanes smiled. “I see. Same arrangement, Same price”.

“Perhaps I might be interested in seeing you model at another time”.

“If and when you decide I'll send my card along with Qwen. You can always reach me at home. However, this evening I'm booked, also for a private showing”.

“I see. Close by?”

“As a matter of fact it will be in your hotel”.

“Then, is it possible for you to stop by and see me, say around ten tonight?”

“Certainly, however, after I give one private showing I don't do another on the same day. I am somewhat fastidious. I prefer a hot shower or a long bath afterwards. If you know what I mean”.

“Oh, of course. However, you could stop by for a drink and conversation. That way we could make the ah? What do you call it? Ah, yes the arrangements”.

“Yes I can do that. So then ten o'clock, right?”

“Oh yeah”.

At five minutes past eight pm. Qwen Phillips stepped out of the elevator on the seventh floor of the Sand Piper Hotel. She pulled a small, black, two wheel, suitcase behind her. The suitcase had been packed with two bikini's, one black, one white. Also contained was a beach robe, nightgowns, bras and panties all put there by Erica Butler.

When she got to room 708 she knocked lightly on the door and after a minute or two stood face to face with Katherine Hedly, a member of the Nautilus Beach Police department. “Hi, come on in”, said the police woman.

Qwen entered the room and saw two men sitting, one on each twin bed. A tall, older man stood with his back towards the windows. “Hello.

Sergeant Phillips am I right?”, he said, turning around.

“Yes”.

“I'm Captain O'Neil. Allow me to introduce you to the rest of my crew. The young lady who let you in is Katherine Hedly. The guy sitting on the bed near the door is Jim McIntyer. The other guy is Sergeant Joe Donnely. As you can see Captain Wallace has set us up in adjoining rooms, 708 and 710. These people will be next door monitoring and taping any conversation I might have with Martha Hanes. The trick is to get Mrs. Hanes into this room. Right now I'm pretty certain that she will show. What I'm going to do is hint at the prostitution angel. I expect her tonight to question me all about Amalgamated Energy. That's what Wallace is interested in at the moment. Something to do with insider trading. So, if she brings it up that's what I can find out for him.

Now, as far as you are concerned. You and I have to appear as if we have had a little tumble in the sack. Katy here will see to you. And after wards if you have any questions, just ask.”

Katherine Hedly looked at Sergeant Donnely. “You have to get up”, she said to the man.

Donnely got up and after he did Hedly pulled back the covers

on the twin bed. “Would you come here please Sergeant Phillips?”

Qwen walked to where the police woman stood. As she did Katherine reached up and touched Qwens hair. “This might hurt, sorry”, she said as she yanked and removed several strands of henna colored hair.

“Ouch!”, said Qwen.

Katherine Hedly placed the red hairs on the pillow. “Hopefully this will appear as though you were here and you enjoyed it. Did you bring makeup with you?”

“Just what's in my compact and lipstick”.

“Good, I'll rub just a touch of the pancake makeup on the pillow for the same reason”.

“Smart, a great idea”, said Qwen.

“Thank you. Now, we're going into the next room and test our equipment. You and the Captain can have a conversation. We'll see if you're coming through loud and clear”, said Hedley .

Qwen took a seat in one of the two chairs that matched the small table in the room. Along the side of the chair she unpacked then repacked the suitcase. “I don't want Erica noticing that none of the costumes had been moved”, she said to O'Neil.

“Nice to see that you're on the ball. So what do you do in Cape May?”, asked O'Neil.

“Sex crimes, domestic wife abuse, some juvenile work”.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, but at times it gets boring. That's why I'm glad to being assigned here”.

“Hey, that's the business. You can go for weeks with nothing, then the next thing you know you're up to your armpits in work. Eight hour days turn into twelve hour days. Meals turn into greasy spoon offerings.

You drink gallons of coffee and if you smoke you can go through a carton of cigarettes in two days”.

Sergeant Donnely entered through the connecting door. “The bug's working great Cap. We're all set when you are”, he said.

Forty five minutes later O'Neil said, “ Qwen, nice meeting you. Hopefully I'll see you again after tonight, particularly in court after we bust this group”.

“Same here Captain. Just let me mess up my hair a bit before I leave. Someone might be checking on me”.

“Be careful”.

“Yes sir”.

At nine fifty five p.m. Captain William O'Neil also known as Donald Trainer answered the knock on his hotel room door. Before he opened it he said in a loud voice, “Coming”.

The three police officers in the adjoining room pushed the START button on the tape recorder. At the same time they heard Martha Hanes say, “I'm a few minutes early. I hope you don't mind”.

“Mind? I was looking forward to it”, O'Neil replied.

Martha glanced at the unmade, rumbled bed. “And how did your private show go? Well, I hope”.

“Let's say everything was satisfactory”.

“Good, now you mentioned a drink and conversation. What would you like to talk about?, said Martha as she sat down on the other bed.

“You're my guest. You pick a topic and eventually I'll turn it back to you and me and us”.

Martha gave a little giggle then said. “Well, alright, for starters you can tell me all about your business'

“Here I am in a hotel room far from home with a beautiful blond and she wants to talk about my business”.

“I think I already told you why I don't do two private shows a night”.

“Yes you did. But, you did say you would give me your card along with your telephone number”.

“I sent it with Qwen. She must have forgot to give it to you. If you really need it. I could give you a private demonstration here tomorrow”.

“I'm checking out in the morning”.

“Let me think about an alternative. Now, tell me all about, what is it, Amalgamated Energy?”

“Yes, not too much to tell. We started with solar panels. That went over big. Then we played with wind turbines. That's going well and now we're thinking about wind farms in the ocean and maybe wave and tide action all of witch produces electric energy”.

“From the way you talk you company is financially sound”.

“It is. We started small, but I expect that we will be offering public stock real soon”.

“Where are you located?”

“The company is located in Youngstown, Ohio”.

“I thought you were from Pennsylvania?”

“I am. I live in New Castle, just over the state line. Now, I've told you all about me. When do I get to see you in action?”

Martha Hanes opened her pocketbook and removed a business card. Turning it over she took a pen and wrote a telephone number on the back. “Here's my card. You have until noon tomorrow to check out. I'll be available to meet you at my home after one. That is if you're still interested in seeing what I have to offer”.

“Tomorrows Sunday”.

“Do you want to go to church or see me?”

“Won't your husband mind me being there?”

“He'll be out, either at his office or playing golf and even if he wasn't, he still wouldn't mind”.

“How nice”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

Private Show

 

At nine o'clock in the morning of Sunday, September 3, 1978 members of the Nautilus Beach Police Departments Vice and Major Crime Squad all met in the large conference room. Captain William O'Neil opened the meeting. “I want to go over today's operation. As you know I'm going to make contact with the Hanes woman. I'll be wearing a bug.

Sergeant Donnely and Detective McIntyer will be outside in the unmarked van taping my conversation. If everything goes right and we do make a bust, Detectives Katy Hedley and Carol Myers will enter and proceed to watch Mrs. Hanes.

What I want to check on now is the warrants. We have two. Am I correct?”

“Yeah, one for your squad one for mine. Yours will be served first.

That warrant issued gives you the right to search and seize any evidence related to prostitution. My warrant is for any evidence in relation to the Harris murder. I'll hold my warrant in reserve until such time I know what you have found. Then, I'll go from there”, said Wallace.

“O.K. so far so good. Now, I'll call the Hanes woman at about one fifteen. Hopefully, she'll want to see me and set me up. When I talk to her on the telephone our conversation will be taped here at headquarters. Once the meeting is arranged I'll play the dumb tourist who doesn't know his way around the island. Then, I'll arrive at her place in a taxi. That then should help convince her that Donald Trainer is a legitimate businessman. The arrest and execution of the search warrant should be like any other prostitution arrest that we've made in the past. Once we have an exchange of money and her voice on tape accepting both the cash and proposition along with the removal of clothing Sergeant Stiles and Detective McKenna will enter and I'll make the arrest. Any questions?”

“Yes, at this time we're thinking that any sex act performed is either sound recorded, video taped or both. That could mean that one or more people are in that house at the time”, said Stiles.

“Very possible. That's a chance we have to take. If taping is being done the equipment is either upstairs or in what we think is a lower room that we spotted when we looked at the house and photographed it. If you look at the photo's you can just make out the glass window pane'. O'Neil replied.

“What's more important is that if there is anyone else in there they might try to destroy the evidence, meaning the tapes”, said Wallace.

“ Let's hope in the excitement they don't”, said O'Neil.

“To be sure when we enter two people take the upstairs, two the lower room”, said Wallace.

At exactly one fifteen in the afternoon, Captain O'Neil dialed the telephone number on the back of the business card that Martha Hanes had given him. While her number rang O'Neil adjusted the suction cup and wire attached to the receiver he was holding in his hand. He then pushed the RECORD button and waited. “Hello?”

“Martha?”

“Is that you Donald?”

“Yes”.

“How nice. I was thinking that you had changed your mind”

“Why would I want to do that? Are we still on for this afternoon?”

“Just as soon as you get here”.

“I'm on my way”.

“Do you know how to get here?”

“No, but I'm sure the cab driver will know”.

“Alright, I'll wait. Is there anything special you might like?”

“Hey, I can think of a lot of things I might like”.

“Silly, I'm talking about refreshments”.

“I'm still concerned about your husband. I don't want him walking in on us”.

“I've already told you. Don't worry about him”.

“O.K. if you say so. Now, tell me once again, what's your fee. If I have to, I'll stop at an ATM machine”.

“I think I quoted you a price of five hundred dollars an hour. That's for a regular. Anything else you have in mind I'll let you know before it happens”.

“Hundred dollar bills O.K.”?

“Fine”.

“I'm on my way. Bye”.

O'Neil hung up the receiver and removed the wire. He ten turned to those in the room and said, “It's on gang, let's go, time to do it”.

Twenty minutes later a Shore Points Taxi stopped in front of a gray stone, two story home located at 1340 Bayview Ave. O'Neil got out of the cab and stood waiting for a receipt after paying the fare, just as any businessman would. As the cabby drove off Captain O'Neil walked up several steps and then along the concrete walkway. As he was about to step on to the porch the front door opened. “Hello Donald. I've been waiting for you, come in”, said Martha Hanes.

Captain O'Neil walked through two large glass panel mahogany doors into a white marble floor foyer. To his immediate right was a black,

wrought iron and mahogany rail that led up a spiral staircase to the upper floor. Several feet a way an identical stairway led to a lower level. “An excellent location for a control room”, he thought. All of the walls were white, matching the white marble floor. As he followed Martha Hanes into her living room he walked past a small anti-room. In front of that room two tall, white marble columns stood along with a statue of what appeared to be some Egyptian god.

“This is quite a place you have here Martha”, he said.

“Thank you. It isn't much, but it's home”, she replied as she took a seat on the couch. O'Neil took a seat away and in front of her.

“Now, Donald, as nice as you are I'm afraid that we must talk money. I always like to get that out of the way first”.

“Hey, I understand. Do you want the money now”.

“Honey, you have to let me know what you want and expect before I can figure out your bill”.

“As I recall anything extra costs me more”.

“That's correct'

“Well then, just a normal toss in the hay”.

“Then, my standard rate is five hundred dollars”.

“Fine. Are we going to do it here?”

“Heavens no. We go upstairs”.

“I don't know. I don't like the idea of being in another man's bed”.

“Donald, you won't be, I promise”.

“Alright, but I want two things first”.

“What's that?”

“I want to pay you now”.

“It can wait, but if you insist”.

“Here is, one, two, three, four and five hundred dollar bills”.

“Thank you Donald and what else do you want?”

“I want to see what I'm getting before I start”.

“Sugar you know what I look like”.

“Yeah, with clothes on. I have only seen you on the show ramp”.

“Very well. What do you want to see, top or bottom?”

“Top is fine”.

O'Neil sat and watched as Martha Hanes slowly removed her blouse and then her bra. Just as she placed the bra on the sofa cushion and was ready to stand she heard footsteps coming through the foyer. Seconds later she looked up and recognized Detective Myers. “Martha Hanes, you are under arrest for prostitution”, said O'Neil.

“You lousy son of a bitch!”, she screamed.

Detective Hedly removed the five hundred dollar bills from the woman hands and then handcuffed her. Five minutes later Captain Wallace walked into the living room following a maniacal-ed Derrick Butler.

“Guess who we found downstairs”, said Wallace.

“I can see”, answered O'Neil.

“Yeah but, there's more. I suggest you execute your search warrant”.

“No kidding”.

“Oh yeah”

Down in the room built under the house, a room that once contained the water pump before city water was run and connected, Captains Wallace and O'Neil stood looking at the latest updated video taping equipment. Mounted on the wall were five T.V. monitors which would expose views to the front, left, right, and above. Wallace figured that the fifth monitor was attached to a VCR allowing for full playback of the finished video tape. Both men paid particular attention to pictures hanging on a bedroom wall. This would tell them which bedroom was being used and they could then search for the hidden camera.

On another wall were three wooden shelves. The two men estimated that there was at least fifty video tapes on the shelves. They took the tapes as evidence and would look at them later.

When O'Neil and Wallace arrived from the lower room they were surprised to find another man seated and in handcuffs. “What do we have here?”, asked O'Neil.

“Captain, meet one John Hanes. We found him upstairs in the master bedroom”, said Detective McIntyer.

While O'Neil co-ordinated his investigation Captain Wallace walked carefully through the house taking his time to inspect closed closets and drawers. He picked up and looked closely at photographs of the Hanes taken at various social functions. When he entered the room next to the master bedroom the first thing he noticed was the mirror on the wall. He knew immediately that either John Hanes or someone sat in the master bedroom and through this two way mirror watched the actions that were being video taped by someone, probably Derrick butler, using the equipment in the lower room. He reached for the notebook and pen in his inside jacket pocket and made notes on his finding. “Two way mirror on wall between master bedroom and guest bedroom. Have photographs taken”, he wrote. He then stood and allowed his eyes to focus on the items in the room. Besides the white and gold, French double bed, there were two night tables, one on each side of the bed. In front of one wall was a matching chest of drawers. On top of the chest was a vase containing artificial flowers. Wallace looked up at the ceiling and saw the three blade fan which contained three glass, tulip shaped globes each globe containing a light bulb hanging down from the center of the ceiling. He then visibly scanned the walls and saw the air condition vent, the blades of the vent were slightly open. He walked and took a position where he could look up and see inside. When he did he saw the small camera it contained. Another camera he found inside a Tiffany Lamp replica.

Leaving the room Wallace walked down the hallway. He stopped in front of two, mahogany colored louvered doors. “This must be the linen closet”, he thought. Opening the doors he found that he was right as piles of sheets, pillow cases and towels were neatly stacked on four white enameled wooden shelves. As he looked downward he saw the gray, steel, two drawer filing cabinet. He reached down to opened the top drawer, but found it locked. As he started down the spiral staircase he saw Tom Mckenna. “Tom, come up here. I need you to help me with something'.

The two men upon reaching the filing cabinet, picked it up and together carried it down stairs placing it on the foyer floor. “Go ask Mr. or Mrs. Hanes if they will give us the key. I already know the answer, but ask anyway. We'll open it at headquarters”, said Wallace.

A few minutes later, McKenna returned and said, “No go. He demands to speak to his lawyer”.

“I figured that. Are any of them talking?”, asked Wallace.

“Not that I know of. The only one who is nervous is Butler. The Hanes appear cool, calm and collected. In fact, Mrs. Hanes is just sitting there with a large smile on her face”.

Together Captain's O'Neil and Wallace stood and watched as Butler and the Hanes were led away in handcuffs to be sent in and booked at headquarters. They then turned their attention to the Crime Scene Technicians making sure that all collected evidence, video tapes, address books and the gray, steel filing cabinet was labeled, numbered and placed in the marked, C.S.I. van, parked in the driveway. The only thing not placed in the van were the video tapes. Wallace held on to the cardboard box containing eighteen tapes taken from the fifty they had found, making sure they were safe and secure. As he did Lieutenant June Campo made sure that her staff photographed the entire house paying particular attention to the bedroom with the two way mirror and the lower room containing the video taping equipment.

By the time O'Neil and Wallace returned to headquarters both Martha and John Hanes had contacted their lawyer, who then tried to contact the municipal judge who in return could set bail.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

Trial and Error

 

On Monday, September 4, 1978, Labor Day, the morning at eight o'clock was relatively quiet for a holiday. Tourist families were getting up out of hotel beds. Some headed for the dinning room eager for breakfast.

Others ordered room service. Those who had imbibed of the alcoholic beverages offered by the many bars and saloons on the island sat on the sides of their bed nursing hangover headaches, nausea, and vomiting. The lucky ones slept soundly. At headquarters the members of both the Vice and Major Crime Squad sat drinking coffee waiting to see the first video tape seized as evidence at the Hanes home. Bill O'Neil picked one out of the box and read aloud the writing on the black, cardboard cover. “It says, Martin Donahue. Let's see what we have”.

When the color images appeared on the sixteen inch screen television everyone leaned forward in their chairs wanting to see, just what the tape contained. What they saw was a bald headed man who sat on the edge of the bed while a brunette woman began to disrobe.

“Carol, do you recognize the woman?”, asked Wallace.

“She looks like Amanda Wells. In this video her hair style is different then what she has today”.

“Notice that at the bottom of the tape it runs and shows the date, time, minutes and seconds. How nice of them”, said O'Neil.

“Some one take notes. Write down the mans name, the date that's displayed in the tape and the year 1976”, said Wallace.

“I got it Captain”, said Myers.

“Do we have to watch the entire tape?”, asked Detective Hedly.

“If you're uncomfortable watching what's happening you can leave, but just suppose someone else joins in the fun and you didn't see who it is?, said O'Neil.

“It's like watching a porn movie”, Hedly replied.

“How many porn movies have you watched making you an authority?” asked McIntyer.

The rest of the vice squad began to laugh as Detective Hedly blushed.

For the remainder of the morning the police officers watched tape after tape with Captain Wallace's squad members identifying each woman they recognized in the video's and as they did they wrote down the names of the victims, along with the date and times of the recordings.

There was a knock on the door of the closed conference room and it was opened just enough for Tom McKenna to see a uniformed officer.

“What?”, asked Tom.

“There's a woman here demanding to see Captain Wallace”, said the messenger.

“O.K. I'll tell him. Captain Wallace, there's a woman here to see you”, said McKenna.

“Did they say who it is?”

“No sir”.

“Alright. Let's take a break. I'll see who it is and what they want and if anyone is sending out for more coffee, I'll take another cup”.

Wallace walked out of the room and took the elevator to his office floor. When he stepped out on to the floor he saw Erica Butler sitting outside his office door. “Good morning Mrs. Butler. I understand that you wanted to see me”, said Wallace.

“You must be Captain Wallace. I recognize your voice from the rude, short, conversations we've had on the telephone”.

“Ah yes, you accused me of being rude and I believe I replied, that if I was rude I apologize. Now, is that why you are here?”

“No, I'm here because you have arrested my husband. Since I'm here I want you to know that I intend to bring charges against you for harassing both Derrick and myself. I don't know what you have against us other than the fact that I want the designer dress back from you”.

“Are you quite finished Mrs Butler?”

“Yes, for the moment”.

“As usual you're talking about things you don't know and things that you've got wrong. For instance, I didn't arrest your husband. Some one else did. Next, police officers are protected providing they can show probable cause for their actions and believe me the evidence we have gives us more than enough probable cause. As for the dress, we've been over it and over it. I don't intend to waste my time telling you again what to do it about the dress. Now, unless you have something else you want to know or another threat towards me I'll say good by. You see, I'm very busy”.

“What has Derrick been arrested for?”

“I believe the charge is, Being an Inmate of a Disorderly House”.

“How much is his bail?”

“I have no idea. However, today is a holiday. Good luck finding a judge who will set his bail. Now, if it isn't too late, have a nice day. Good by”.

After returning to the conference room Wallace rejoined the others and continued to view the video tapes that has been taken as evidence. He noticed that although several of the housewives appeared in the tapes, Martha Hanes appeared in most of them. Then, he sat further on his chair as he watched Mrs. Hanes in bed with a woman. “Bill, is there a name on that tape?”, he asked.

Bill O'Neil picked up the black, cardboard video sleeve and read,

“ALICE BALDWIN, APRIL 15, 1977”. Wallace wrote the name in his notebook.

Near noon, those in the room learned that Wilbur Sims, the attorney for the Hanes and Derrick Butler were able to reach Judge Homer Wilkins who not only did not set bail, but released each defendant on their own recognizance. “I smell a fix”, said McKenna.

“Don't be too hasty to run your mouth. Right now the Hanes are viewed as upstanding members of the community. Therefore, Judge Watkins doesn’t see them as a risk to leave town. At the same time, they have legal council who, rightfully so, probably requested, recognizance. You can't blame him for doing his job”, Wallace replied.

“You can bet the arraignment will be tomorrow”, said O'Neil.

“It should only be a formality. The reading of the charges, the plea, and referring the case to a higher court. It should take about ten minutes”, said Wallace.

“I'm starting to think like McKenna. Money talks and money walks”, said O'Neil.

“Then we better have everything together, video's, audio tapes marked money and anything else we will need, including Qwen's testimony about being solicited by Martha Hanes', Wallace replied.

“How many more tapes do we have left to look at?”, asked Stiles.

“Three”, someone answered.

“Well. Let's get it over with”, O'Neil responded.

“Before we do, how many of the women have we identified?”, asked Wallace.

“Everyone except Hilda Speck. So far she hasn't appeared”, said Myers.

“Alright, we'll see if she's in any tapes that are left. I would like to have them all involved and accounted for”, said O'Neil.

Another tape was selected. This one had the name Harry Goldberg written with a felt tip pen on a white tape. The cassette was placed in the VCR and it began to play. Just like the others it revealed a nude man and woman performing sexual acts. “Who's the woman Carol?”,

asked Wallace.

“That's the one we were looking for, that's Hilda Speck”.

“Oh, what a naughty girl”, said McKenna

“O.K. gang one more tape and we're done with them”, said O'Neil.

“I'm glad of that “said Hedly.

“I bet you are. I've seen you squirming in your seat”, said McIntyer.

“Go to hell”, Hedly replied.

“O'Neil placed the last tape in the video player and pushed the PLAY button. The film showed a nude man sitting on a bed. He beckoned to someone as he said, “Come on baby, this is costing me, but from what I see, it's going to be worth it”.

A woman's voice is heard to say, “No! I won't do it!” Then there is a scream and the sounds of a struggle. Before the tape ends that last thing to be seen is a black high heel shoe on someone's foot.

“Son of a bitch. Do you see what I see Myers?”, asked Wallace.

“Yes sir. That's one of the Vince Camuso, kitten heel pumps Pauline Harris was wearing the night she died”.

“Bill stop the tape. Carol, the tape shows the time to be nine zero five pm. June 19, 1978. Doctor Wescoat estimated that Pauline had been dead for about ten hours. Her body washed ashore and was found at eight thirty in the morning on June the twentieth. It appears as though she was murdered between nine and ten pm. on the night of the nineteenth, or right after this tape was made. From what I see, it appears someone grabbed her. That's when she screamed. She was lifted up off of her feet and the hidden camera managed to catch and photograph one of the shoes she wearing. Fortunately we have the other shoe”, said Wallace.

“Yeah but there are probably about a thousand pair just like them out there in the world. However, that's your case and your problem. As far as I'm concern I've got what I need for a prostitution bust. Anything else is your baby. IF you need us for help just yell”, said O'Neil.

“The name written on the tape is Homer Bule”, said Stiles.

Wallace turned to Qwen Phillips and said, “Qwen, if the arraignment is tomorrow I'll see you in court. After that you'll be contacted if and when a trail date is set. Thanks for everything. You can bet that Bill and I will be sending letters to your boss. Great job kid”.

“Thanks, and may I say that it was great working with all of you. And, Carol, thank you so much for giving up your home to me”, said Phillips as she hugged Myers.

Wallace then turned to his squad members. “ Carol, Tom, I want you two to check the names and dates Carol has written down. Go to every hotel on the beach. See what you can find. Frank, I want you to do the same, only at the convention center headquarters. It is possible that these men registered under different names then the one they gave to set up the trick. However, if they used their real names we should be able to trace them back to where they live. First, go to lunch, then go to work.

Meanwhile, after I eat and have a couple cups of coffee, I'll have a locksmith open the file cabinet we took”.

“Why a locksmith?”, asked McKenna.

“I could break it open or use a guy I know, but if it comes up in court how the cabinet was opened I don't want to say, By an ex-con safe cracker. It's all about being professional”, said Wallace with a smile.

Alone in his office Captain Wallace dialed the telephone number of TRUE LOCK & KEYS. “Hello', came a voice.

“Herman?”

“Yeah?”

“Bob Wallace. How busy are you?”

“What do you need and when?”

“A filing cabinet and as soon as you can get here”.

“Be about a half an hour to forty five minutes”.

“That's fine”.

After hanging up from the locksmith Wallace dialed the City Morgue.

“Doctor Wescoat”.

“Hi”.

“Well, well, I hear that you have been busy”.

“Yep, but I've got some news for you”.

“And, what's that?”

“Qwen should be at your place packing. She'll be returning home tomorrow if things go right in court.

“Then, you've solved the Harris case?”

“Unfortunately, no. But, she did help us kick in a few doors that seems to be leading us to where we want to go”.

“Good, I'll miss her. She was nice company”.

“Are you busy?”

“Yes and no. right now I'm dissecting what appears to be a cancerous tumor”.

“It's nice to be happy in your work. Talk with you later”.

“Bye”.

After the delivery man left, Wallace opened the paper bag containing a corn beef special sandwich and two Styrofoam cups of coffee.

He unwrapped the sandwich, removed the Jewish dill pickle and set it aside on one of the napkins. The other napkin he used to wipe the Russian Dressing from his mouth after he took a bite of sandwich. Between bites and sips of coffee he sat mentally going over the facts and evidence they had in the Harris case. “ Finding the shoe in the video tape is important.

More important is finding the man in the video, a guy who could be, Homer Bule. He saw and knows who grabbed and lifted a woman off of her feet making her scream. He is a key witness. Can we find him?”,he asked himself.

He rolled up the wax paper wrapper the sandwich came in, placed it in the empty coffee cup and the cup into the paper bag then tossed all of it into the wastepaper basket next to his desk. As he did there was a knock on his office door.

“Come in!”, he said loudly.

The door opened and Herman Shaw, the locksmith entered. “Hi Wally. How the hell are you?”, he said.

“Fair. I've got this filing cabinet I want opened. Before you do I want you to know that there is a very slight possibility that you might have to testify in court”.

“Do I get paid?”

“Yeah, the standard County rate”.

“No problem. This the cabinet?”, Herman asked pointing to the gray, steel cabinet on top of the desk?”

“Yep”.

Herman Shaw opened a black leather tool holder and removed a wire pick with a plastic handle. In twenty seconds he opened the locked cabinet and put back the tool.

“Excellent. How much do I owe you?”, asked Wallace.

“That depends, do I get less from you and more from the city?”

“Certainly”.

“Then I'll bill the city. Twenty for a house call, another twenty for opening it.”

“How much if I paid?”

“I don't know, ten, fifteen bucks. Sign here”.

Wallace signed his name. “Thanks Herman. See you later”.

“What? No Tip?”, said Shaw with a laugh.

When the locksmith left the office, Wallace opened the unlocked top drawer. He looked inside and saw neatly stacked manilla folders. He put on a pair of latex gloves and then reaching inside he removed one file, It was labeled, ALICE Baldwin, APRIL 15. 1977.He opened it and read. “Video tape 000137 of Alice Baldwin, customer of Martha, homosexual liaison. Should be worth between 5& 10 thousand dollars. “May 20, 1977. Made contact Walker refuses to pay. Will increase pressure on her. Might take less cash in exchange for corporate info”. J.H.

“J.H.? It has to be John Hanes that made these notes”, he said aloud. Then, he realized that those simple initials although circumstantial, could be challenged by any first year law student. Still, evidence is evidence, circumstantial or not. That would be the prosecutors problem.

He searched for and found the address of the woman. 450 37th Street

Landover, Maryland. He wrote it down. Next, he found a telephone number, but it had been scratched out with a pencil. “Probably her number at the time, but more than likely she changed it after they tried to shake her down”, he thought.

He reached in and removed another folder. It had the name Martin Donahue. Opening it he read, “Video 00049, Martin Donahue, July 5, 1977, showing sexual acts with Martha. Usual, 5 to 10 thousand dollars. Business info? Contact made. Donahue agreed to pay, but in installments”. On a small, torn piece of paper Wallace found, Martin Donahue, Ivins, Utah.

As he was opening the file with the name Harry Goldberg, Sergeant Stiles entered the office. “How did you make out?”, Wallace asked.

“Not one of those names were listed at the convention centers records. It seems that the center only keeps the official address of the organization that makes inquiries related to conventions in Nautilus Beach and occasionally the name of the person making the inquiry. Sorry”.

“Well, it was a shot we had to take. When you get time, give me a written report. Meanwhile, I've come up with a few names I found in the nice, neat, records John Hanes kept. If and when we find these people and if and when they give us the information we need they'll make excellent

witnesses. Now, all we have to do is locate them and hope they'll talk”.

“That's all well and good as far as the extortion angle goes, but what do they give us in the Harris case?”

“Hopefully information that leads us to the murderer. I want you to make contact with someone either in the Landover P.D. or the County Sheriff. Tell them about the case we're working and our need to contact Alice Baldwin. See if they can send someone to her house, meet with her and have her call me here at headquarters.

“Anything else?”, asked Stiles.

“Yeah, right now call downstairs and ask Lieutenant Campo to come to my office.”

Stiles dialed the number for C.S.I., spoke with June Campo, hung up the telephone and said, “She's on the way”.

“Thanks Frank”.

“You're welcome. Now, let me call Landover Maryland”.

“On second thought, have them give her my home telephone as well as my office number”.

“Will do”.

Stiles passed Campo in the hallway. The lieutenant entered the office where Wallace stood reading the file on Homer Bule. He looked up when he saw her enter. “Hi June. What you see here is a filing cabinet containing manilla folders. I'm almost positive that the latent prints you'll find on the cabinet and the folders are those of one, John Hanes. At the same time, you will find my prints and those of Tom McKenna, on the cabinet, put there when we moved and carried it”.

“Do we have John Hane's prints on file?”, she asked.

“He was arrested and booked, we should have them.”

“I'll check. Are you done with these?”

“Not yet. I'll call you when I'm finished”.

“Fine, anything else?”

“Nope”.

“See ya”.

Wallace returned to his examination of the file folder on Homer Bule. All he found was a slip of paper with Toronto, Canada written on it.

“Damn it! Nothing! But that figures. You wouldn't shake down a guy who knows too much. Then why a folder at all? I think J.H. screwed up. He made another mistake, another error”,Wallace thought to himself.

Sergeant Stiles came back and said, “Landover, Maryland's law enforcement agency is the Prince George County Police Department. I spoke to a Captain Edgar Toth. He's sending a radio car to the home of Alice Baldwin to give her your message.”

“Thanks Frank. Let's see where that takes us. I'm going to finish with what I have here then send all of it down to C.I.S.. After that we'll get together with the crew and go over what we might have to do and say in court tomorrow”.

At nine o'clock the next morning members of the Vice and Major Crime Squads sat in the first row of seats in Municipal Court. Much to their surprise Judge Wilkins had recuse himself from the case and Judge Edward Hopkins took the bench. Walter Sims. A local Attorney At Law represented Martha and John Hanes as well as Derrick Butler.

The three defendants in the case stood when asked by the judge for their plea and all of them pleaded, “Not Guilty”.

Walter Sims requested that the case against the three be dismissed do lack of evidence. Judge Hopkins denied the request and Sergeant Qwen Phillips took the stand. She testified how Martha Hanes had suggested how to make additional income by modeling in private sessions. She also stated how Martha Hanes had set up a private session with one Donald Trainer, who actually was, Captain William O'Neil of the Nautilus Beach Police Department's Vice Squad.

“You say that Mrs. Hanes suggested that you could make extra income by modeling in private showings. Is that correct?”, asked Sims.

“Yes”.

“Did she ever say that you were to engage in sexual conduct?”

“In my opinion it was implied”.

“Objection your honor. Implications from the witness are not valid”.

“Sustained. Sergeant, do not testify to what you thought or what your opinion was at the time. Do you understand?”, asked Judge Hopkins.

“Yes your honor”.

“No further questions”.

“Captain William O'Neil”, called the judge.

After being sworn, O'Neil testified about the conversation he had with Martha Hanes at the convention center, at the Sand Piper Hotel and at her home. Each time he did he was challenged by Sims.”Captain, like the witness before you not once have you stated that sexual relations were offered for a fee, not once. Your honor I submit to the court that the first witness used implications and this witness is using innuendos. I respectfully again request that the charges against my clients be dismissed.”

Judge Hopkins looked down from the bench at O'Neil seated in the

witness chair and said, “Captain can you testify that particular words were said by Mrs. Hanes that would indicate that she was offering sexual favors for money?”

“Yes sir”

“And what was said or done to lead you to that conclusion?”

“The fact that Mrs. Hanes accepted five marked, one hundred dollar bills from me. The fact that when I mentioned that the money was for a toss in the hay she stated that it would take place in a bedroom, not the living room. And finally, the fact that she asked if I wanted to see the top of her or the bottom. When I said top, she removed her blouse and brassier resulting in her exposing her bare breasts”.

“Objection your honor!”, said Sims.

“Over ruled. The Court recommends that this case be referred to the Superior Court”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

Acid Tongues

 

Robert Wallace was sitting comfortably in his leather covered recliner. His eyes were closed as he listened to the violins being played in the recording of Scheherazade, The Tale of The Young Prince and Princess.

Just when the orchestra got to his favorite section of the piece his telephone rang, interrupting his concentration and mood. “Son of a bitch, this better be important”, he said aloud.

He got up out of the chair, walked to his desk and lifted the receiver. “HELLO?”, he said in a loud voice.

“Is this Captain Robert Wallace?”, someone with a husky voice asked.

“Who is this?”

“This is Al Baldwin. The police came to my house and said that you wanted me to call you”.

“That's correct. I would like to talk to you about a certain incident that occurred here in Nautilus Beach on May the twentieth of last year, 1977”.

“The only way that I would talk to you or any police officer would be in the presence of my attorney. I certainly will not discuss anything on the telephone”.

“I understand, Miss? Mrs.?

“Just call me Al”.

“Alright Al. Let me advise you that my reason to want to talk to you is that I consider you a victim. I see you as a victim of a conspiracy and as a victim of attempted extortion. I want to put those people who victimized you behind bars”.

“You do know that I am gay”.

“That does not matter to me. I consider your way of life a private matter”.

“You are the first police officer I have spoke to that feels that way”.

“And, allow me to emphasize that I'm sincere when I say it”.

“Well, as I said, I will talk with you providing my lawyer is sitting next to me”.

“Why don't we do this. Contact your attorney and set up a meeting.

It can be at your home, a hotel room or his office. I'll leave it up to you”.

“I'll have her call you”.

“I look forward to it and meeting you”.

“Good by Captain”.

“Good night”.

The next morning after talking on the telephone with the County Prosecutor Wallace hung up the telephone and called for Tom McKenna.

Five minutes later McKenna entered the office. “Yes sir?”

“You know how you always complain how, you never get to go anywhere? How, all you do is ride around the island and other parts of New Jersey?”, asked Wallace.

“Yeah, some times it feels that way”.

“Well cheer up. You're going on a trip”.

“Where”?

“Ivin Utah. You and Fred Miller from the prosecutors office. You'll fly out of Philly airport, land in Utah, rent a car and interview one, Martin Donahue. We want to know about the shake down John Hanes conducted on him or anyone else for that matter”.

“When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow”.

“For how long?”

“As long as it takes. I want his statement on paper and with his signature”.

“What's next Cap?”

“I'm waiting to hear from an attorney that hopefully sets up a meeting with another witness”.

“Is it O.K. If I take off. I have a couple of things to do and I have to pack”.

“Fine, check with Miller about tickets, ready cash and how you're getting to the airport”.

An hour later, Wallace answered the ringing telephone on his desk.

“Some day I'm going to insist I get a secretary if to do nothing else then answer the damn telephone”,he thought.

“Major Crime Squad, Captain Wallace”, he answered.

“Captain. This is Jessica Sanford. I am Alice Baldwin's attorney.”

“Hello, and thank you for calling”.

“You're welcome. Now as I understand it, you wish to question my client on a criminal matter that occurred in your city, some time last year”.

“That's correct”.

“Am I also correct in assuming that in this matter my client was the victim and not the perpetrator?”

“Also correct”.

“Very well. Miss Baldwin has given me the option to pick the place and time. Is that agreeable with you?'

“Yes, it is”.

“Then, may I suggest that we meet privately here in my office”.

“No problem”.

“Fine, I'm located in Northwest Washington, D.C.. How and when do you plan on arriving?”

“I think the best thing for us is to travel by train then take a cab to your office”.

“I see. I'm not familiar with train schedules. To be safe suppose we conduct the meeting at two in the afternoon next Wednesday. That's the thirteenth of September. Is that alright for you?”

“Yes”.

“Good. My office is located at nine ten Seventeenth Street, fourth floor in the Hampton, Office Suites”.

“Excellent, I look forward to meeting you and Miss Baldwin”.

“Good day, Captain.

“Bye”.

Wallace hung up the receiver then wrote the name of Jessica Sanford along with her office address on the yellow tablet on his desk.

He then called for Sergeant Stiles.

After Stiles was briefed on the arrangements in Washington He was ordered to make reservations and get tickets for the rail lines from Atlantic City to Philadelphia, Philadelphia to Wilmington Delaware and from Wilmington to Washington, D.C.

“How come we're going by train?”, asked Stiles.

“Two reasons, too much traffic on Route Forty and too much traffic in D.C. After you get the times for the trains we can decide how to pack and if we're staying over”.

“If we stay over we could get to go to the Smithsonian”, Stiles suggested.

“Forget it. Go get the tickets and train schedule. I have to make a call to a guy I know in Toronto. Hopefully he'll be able to track down Homer Buel”.

Two days later Captain Wallace accepted telephone charges from Tom McKenna. “Tom? How did you make out?”, he asked.

“Not good. The guy insisted that he knows nothing about being extorted by anyone, particularly anyone from Nautilus Beach New Jersey”.

“Did you tell him that he could possibly be helpful in the investigation of the Pauline Harris murder?”

“Yes sir. He said, that it wasn't his problem”.

“Damn it, why won't he talk?”

“Probably because he's well respected in the church and is married with three kids. Anyway, we did everything that we could to get him to give us a statement. Still, he wouldn't budge. What do you want us to do?”

“Nothing. We could threaten to expose the tape with him in it, but that would be unethical. Come back home. You and Miller make separate reports”.

“Yes sir, see you some time tomorrow or the next day”.

“Whenever”.

Detective Myers came in and submitted her reports. “This more or less catches me up”, she said.

“Thanks Carol”.

“I understand that you and Sergeant Stiles are going to Washington”.

“That's right”.

“Anything special you want from me while you're gone?”

“The only thing I can think of is that I have contacted a Lieutenant,

Frank Burnside in the Toronto P.D. He was a classmate of mine in the F.B.I. National Academy. Hopefully he's digging up information on Homer Bule.

If he calls while I'm away make sure you get any and all information”.

“Is that all?”

“Yep”.

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

On Wednesday, September 13, 1978, the taxi cab transporting Captain Wallace and Sergeant Stiles stopped in front of 910 Seventeenth Street, in Washington. D.C. As Stiles paid the fare and waited for a receipt

Wallace stood looking up at the marque that read, “Hampton Office Suites”.

Stiles placed the receipt in his pants pocket and joined Wallace. “What floor do we want?”, he asked.

“The fourth. Jessica Sanford, Attorney At Law”.

“Here it is, room 406”.

Both men entered a vacant elevator. Wallace pushed the button that closed the stainless steel doors and the number 4 floor button.

After a minute they stepped out on to a thick, red carpet. Wallace looked at the frosted glass paneled office doors each one baring the number of the unit. “Four hundred, four zero two. Here it is”, he said.

After opening the door and walking in they stopped at a receptionist desk where a young, attractive, well dressed young woman greeted them. “You must be Captain Wallace”.

“Yes I am and may I introduce Sergeant Stiles.”

“Hello Sergeant. Gentlemen, you are somewhat early, however, Mrs. Sanford is waiting for you. Come this way”.

Wallace and Stiles followed the young woman through an open door and as they entered Wallace saw a pleasingly good looking woman seated behind a large desk. She got up out of her chair and extended her hand. “Good afternoon gentlemen. I am Jessica Sanford and this is Alice Baldwin”, said Sanford, pointing to a rather tall husky woman seated in a chair.

“It's a pleasure meeting both of you and I would like to thank you for your co-operation”, said Wallace.

“I suggest that we conduct this, ah, this interview at the conference table. That way we won't be straining our necks trying to talk to each other or attempting to balance note pads on our knees. At the same time you will notice I have the VCR and monitor set up. Please Captain, Sergeant take a seat,” said the lawyer.

After everyone was seated Wallace turned to Alice Baldwin. She sat next to her lawyer. Wallace estimated her to be about five feet ten inches tall and although she was seated he judged her to weigh over two hundred pounds. She wore her light, brown hair short, but styled in a manner that allowed her to comb it into a masculine look or to appear feminine at anytime. She was attired in a navy blue pants suit, white blouse, black flat shoes and wore no jewelry except a large black face wristwatch with a black stretch band. “As I related to you in our telephone conversation last week, we consider you a victim of a crime. And, I want to assure you that at no time will there be any charges against you pertaining to this case”.

“Why would there be any charges against me?”, asked Baldwin.

“Currently, New Jersey has a multitude of sex crimes in its laws. Sodomy could be defined in your case. However, we have the Captain's word. Proceed Captain”, said Jessica Sanford.

“Thank you. Here's what I have as evidence as attempted extortion

on you. I have a video tape recording showing you in bed with who we have identified as Martha Hanes. That tape shows the date and time your activity together was being photographed. We also have paper files initialed by who we think was John Hanes setting a price of between five and ten thousand dollars for him not to reveal the tape. The file also contains the words, Will Take Less Cash For Corporate Info. Could you tell me what that means? What corporate info?”

“I am the C.E.O. of Baldwin & Brown. We manufacture ready made meals for the military, the Red Cross and other emergency responding organizations. I would imagine that the information Hanes would want is any pending or canceled contracts”.

“That makes sense. Now, you are sure that it was John Hanes that you spoke with in relation to the tape and the demands for money”.

“Quite sure”.

Wallace opened his briefcase and removed a police photograph. “Can you tell me who this is?”,he asked.

“Certainly, that's John Hanes”, Baldwin replied.

“Thank you. That photo was taken when we arrested him on a prostitution charge”.

“It's about time”, said Baldwin.

“When was the first time that you saw or met John Hanes?”

“When the son of a bitch rushed into the bedroom while I was in bed with his wife”.

“And Martha Hanes, when did you meet her?”

“The day of the fashion show. I was approached by some sleaze-ball who told me that the models were available for private showings”.

Wallace removed another mug shot from his briefcase. “Is this the guy?”

“Yes. It is”.

“Did he tell you his name?”

“Probably, but I don't remember if he did”.

“Did he use the name Derrick?”, asked Stiles

“Like I said, I don't remember. Anyway, I liked the blond. I'll tell you the truth, she's a knock out and I wanted her. Eventually we met, went to the hotel bar, had a few drinks and she invited me home”.

“Did she mention a price?”, asked Wallace.

“It seems to me it was between five and eight hundred”.

“And you paid”.

“Yep, up front. I still kick myself in the ass. If I had waited I could have left there Scot free. Live and learn, they say”.

“Captain, unless you have something extremely important to ask, I suggest that you look at the video tape that was sent to Miss Baldwin. I think you will find it very interesting,” said Sanford, as she removed a video cassette from a black cardboard sleeve, slid it into the VCR and pushed, PLAY.

As the tape played Wallace watched Alice Baldwin as she and Martha Hanes performed in bed. He looked at the bottom of the tape and noticed that only the date showed. There was no sign of hours, minutes or seconds. It was apparent after seeing the video tapes that were back at headquarters that the tape he was now watching had been altered.

“Notice anything Captain?”, asked Jessica Sanford.

“Certainly, this tape has been altered”, he answered.

“You should also note that this tape only shows me in action. Not once does it show Martha Hanes as an aggressor”, said Baldwin.

“Interesting. You're right. They made you the center of attraction”.

“Well, do you have any other questions to ask my client?. Asked Sanford.

“The most important one. Will you appear in court and testify against John and Martha Hanes if and when they are arrested for attempted extortion?”

Alice Baldwin looked at her lawyer.

“Miss Baldwin will appear as a witness for the state if and when she is subpoenaed”, said Jessica Sanford.

“Excellent. I appreciate it Al. Thank you. I'll make arrangements for members of my squad to take a sworn statement from you in the future”.

“You're quite welcome. Besides what can they do to me. I came out of the closet years ago. I like you Captain. You treat me like a human being”.

Thank you. Now we have to get a move on. We have a train to catch”.

In the backseat of the taxi heading for the railroad station Stiles turned to Wallace and said, “Well, at least we have one witness to testify against the Hane’s”.

“Yeah, on an extortion charge, not murder”, Wallace replied.

At nine twenty the next morning Wallace sat on the edge of his bed and with the bedroom telephone in his hand he dialed the number to the Major Crime Squad. He heard Carol Myers as she answered, “Major Crime Squad, Detective Myers “.

“Carol? Captain Wallace. Frank and I got in late last night. We missed the last train to Atlantic City so we had to travel home by bus. Anyway, we'll be a little late. Is there anything new?”

“Lieutenant Campo dropped off her report. She said to tell you that the prints on the cabinet and the folders match both John and Martha Hanes. She eliminated Tom's and your prints. How did you make out in Washington?”

“Good, we now have a witness that will talk. Anything from Toronto?”

“No sir, not yet”.

“O.K. see you in awhile”.

Wallace stood up placed the telephone on the night table then, still in his underwear boxer shorts walked to the kitchen. There, he pushed the START button on the coffee maker. After that he went to the bathroom where he shaved and showered. As he dressed, he thought about the things he had to do. One, was to set up a meeting with Elroy, the prosecutor, if for nothing else then to update both the extortion and homicide cases.

Dressed and back in the kitchen, he put an English muffin in the toaster, poured a cup of coffee and waited patiently for the muffin to pop up. When it did he removed it, buttered it and after placing it on a paper plate carried it to the kitchen table. Since he was running late he didn't take time to read the morning newspaper. He gulped down his breakfast, left the empty cup and paper plate on the table and on the way to the front door put on the blue blazer as he walked.

As he drove to headquarters he thought again About the case he was building against the Hane's. “John Hanes can't deny the fact that he knew nothing about the tapes. His fingerprints are all over them. The same goes for the files and the papers in them. June Campo said she also found the prints of Martha Hanes on the files. Still, at this point,I don't have anything concrete against Derrick Butler, other than the prostitution charge. However, I still consider him involved in Pauline's murder and the weak link in the case.”

Walking through the squad room he nodded to Myers and Mckenna who sat at their desks. When he got to his own desk in his office he removed the blue blazer and placed it on the clothes tree that stood in the corner. After sitting down he read the pink message slips on top of his desk along with checking mailed correspondence. He didn't find anything that required his immediate attention.

With his office door open Wallace heard the voice of Frank Stiles in the squad room along with the heavy footsteps the man made as he approached the office. “Morning Cap. I figured you could use another cup of coffee this morning”, said Stiles as he placed a white paper bag on the desk.

“If you weren't so damn ugly I'd kiss you”, Wallace replied.

“That's what my wife says”.

“Anything new since I saw your ugly ass yesterday?”

“I heard on the way in that O'Neil wants to go ahead with what he has on the Hanes. He wants to arrest the rest of the wives seen in the tapes. Also, he would like to have our two witnesses, Angela Rodman and Patricia Baker.

“Well, he certainly has a right to them. Rodman is close by. Good luck with him getting Baker back from Nevada”.

“Have you heard from your guy in Toronto?”

“Not yet”.

“Maybe there's no such person as Homer Bule”.

“You saw him in one of the tapes”.

“I saw a guy in bed in the tape. How many men check into hotels and motels with women and register as Mr. and Mrs. George Washington? The man in the tape could have given a phoney name”.

“I'm betting he didn't'.

“I hope you're right. Well, I've got reports to write. Talk with you later”.

“Hey, thanks for the coffee”.

“Yeah”.

Wallace then dialed the telephone number for the City Morgue.

“Doctor Wescoat”.

“Good morning”.

“It's almost afternoon”.

“I got in late last night”.

“How did it go in Washington?”

“Good, actually”.

“And?”

“And what?”

“And, why are you calling?”

“Oh, yeah. I just opened a notice brochure from Hopewell. The New York Symphony canceled. We'll have to make other plans”.

“Did they say why they canceled?”

“No, they never do, but you can bet the reason was due to a lack of ticket sales.”

“Well, I'm not too disappointed. I'll leave it up to you what we do”.

“You know, you could suggest something once in awhile”.

“Very well, just give me a bit of time”.

“You got it. Take all the time you need”.

“You're so patient. Now I have to go. I have a tissue specimen being dyed and timed. Bye”.

Wallace hung up the receiver. He got up and went to his filing cabinet and removed the personal folder he was keeping on the Pauline Harris case. Taking it to his desk he sat down and then began the task of reading and re-reading each report submitted by members of his unit. He read and re-read each report submitted by C.S.I. He re-examined the photographs taken of Pauline Harris body. Pictures taken at the beach where it washed up on shore. He concentrated on the close up photo's of the victims throat. Still, nothing new came to him, no new evidence he might have missed nor any new ideas on how to move forward.

At two twenty five p.m. the telephone on his desk rang. He answered as usual, “Major Crime Squad, Captain Wallace.”

“Wally? Frank Burnside here. How are you?”

“Just great, how about yourself?”

“ I'll get by. Listen I found the guy you are looking for. I have some good news and some bad news”.

“Just give it to me straight”.

“O.K. Homer Bule, your guy, is in Dorothy Billings Hospice. He's been there for the past couple of weeks. He is willing to talk and give a statement”.

“Damn, that's great Frank”, said Wallace.

“Don't get too excited. You haven't heard the bad news”.

“Which is?”

“The fact that he's dying of lung cancer. He could go at any time”.

“Son of a bitch”.

“Well, how you handle it from here is up to you”.

“Thanks Frank. I appreciate what you did”.

“No problem. Here's the address and telephone number of the hospice”.

“Shoot'.

“Four seventy Sherman Way, Toronto. Telephone 416 794 0161”

Call me again if you need anything else. Bye”.

Robert Wallace slowly leaned forward and replaced the receiver.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

Squeeze

 

 

When Robert Wallace was finished telling James Elroy, the County Prosecutor about the location of Homer Bule and the fact that

the man was in all probability a material witness, he sat back and waited for the man's reaction.

Elroy took off his eyeglasses and leaned forward in his chair.

“What I'm going to do is send my people to Toronto immediately. I want a deathbed deposition. Therefore, to assure that it is taken legally and correctly, I'm sending Ted Watkins, a video taping crew and a stenographer. That way, what your witness has to say will be recorded two different ways. Meanwhile we'll contact the Toronto Police and have someone meet Ted at the airport. By, the way, I'm chartering a private plane in order to get there quickly. From what you have told me, this Mr. Bule is in bad health.

Once Ted has the deposition he'll call me. I then will notify you and you can serve both your search and arrest warrants for, Derrick Butler, A.K.A.Daniel Barns or Dominick Desilvio and John Hanes. I have someone in municipal court right now getting the arrests warrants signed by the judge. I understand that you already have a search warrant for the Hanes residence”.

“Yes sir”, Wallace answered.

“Very well, let's put things into motion. I'll call you just as soon as I hear from Mr. Watkins”.

“Thank you Mr. Elroy.”

Back at headquarters Wallace briefed his squad members and alerted C.S.I. to stand by. He didn't tell them where they would be going or what they were to do. Instructions to them would be given at the time of the arrests. By five pm. they called to have sandwiches and coffee delivered from the Jewel Restaurant. After eating that sat staring at the office door of Captain Wallace. At the same time Wallace stared at the telephone on his desk that did not ring. A county detective arrived and handed the arrest warrants to Sergeant Stiles.

At seven forty five p.m. Wallace almost jumped out of his chair to answer the telephone. “Captain Wallace”, he said loudly.

“Captain? Jim Elroy. We got what we wanted. You can serve your warrants whenever you're ready”.

“Mr. Elroy, I'd like to make the arrest tomorrow morning”.

“Why then?”

“When I execute the search warrant I want the C.S.I. crew to be able to see what they're doing. At this stage of the game I don't want anything missed or mishandled as it could be in the dark”.

“That's understandable. Hey, it's your case and your investigation. Do it your way. Nonetheless, let me tell you what Mr. Bule had to say”.

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

At eight forty five in the morning of the next day Detectives McKenna and Myers along with two uniformed officers served an arrest warrant for Derrick Butler at his home. Sergeant Stiles and Captain Wallace stopped John Hanes in his drive way just as he was getting ready to drive to his office. Once he was taken into custody both the arrest and search warrants were issued. Lieutenant Campo and the C.S.I. technicians began searching for evidence related to the Pauline Harris homicide.

Returning to headquarters Wallace fought off the news media, including his ex-wife as they bombarded him with questions. He and Frank Stiles sat drinking coffee as they waited for I.D. to call and tell them that the booking sequence for Butler and Hanes was over.

Shortly after ten A.M. Wallace received the call and had Derrick Butler moved to an interrogation room. When Wallace and Stiles arrived there they found Butler seated, angry and insolent. Butler looked at Wallace and said, “You guys are getting to be a pain in the ass. First, you arrest me on some bull-shit prostitution complaint, being an inmate of a disorderly house and now I'm charged with some chicken-shit conspiracy charge. You can't prove either. I want my lawyer and I know that I'm entitled to one”.

“Yes you are. However, you and I are going to talk first”.

“ I know that I don't have to say anything to you or anyone else”.

“Ah, I love it when dip-shit's like you pretend to know the law and their rights. Very well. Sergeant, read Mr. Butler or is it Desilvio? his rights”.

Butler sat up suddenly in his chair when he heard the name Desilvio. Who is this Desilvio guy?', he asked.

“You are. You are also a pimp. A pimp that has been busted in Baltimore, Philadelphia and now in Nautilus Beach, New Jersey. I forgot to mention that as a result of those prior arrests you neglected to register with us as a past criminal which is another violation of the law”, said Wallace.

“Just another chicken-shit charge”, Butler responded.

“In your opinion. In my opinion and my opinion is what counts at the moment it's another reason to hold you”.

“I'll make bail and be out of here within an hour”.

“I don't think so. I'm charging you with Conspiracy To Commit Murder, along with the charges the Vice Squad has on you and the fact that as an ex-felon you might be viewed as a security risk. I doubt is any judge will grant bail. If they do you can bet your ass it will be high.”

“Murder? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Does the name Homer Bule mean anything to you?”, asked Stiles.

Butler's face turned extremely pale. “What about Bule?”, he asked.

“We found him. Guess what he told us. Would you like me to recite the events that took place on the night of June the nineteenth when Pauline Harris was strangled to death?”, asked Wallace.

“Right now, you're in deep shit boy. You could be facing thirty years to life. Of course there's always a way to get a lesser sentence', said Stiles.

“How?”, asked Butler'

“Turn State's evidence. Testify against Hanes”.

“How do I know the prosecutor will go along with that?”

“Trust me. He will. Now, shall I call for a stenographer to take your statement or your lawyer?”

“I'll give you what you want”.

Just after noon Derrick Butler, alias Daniel Barns, Dominic Desilvio initialed each of the five typed pages of his statement related to the Pauline Harris homicide. He signed the last page with three different signatures.

Looking at his wristwatch Wallace noted the time. “Let's break for lunch. You know by now Martha Hanes has called Wilbur Sims, their lawyer. We'll go to lunch take our time and deliberately piss off the attorney who won't allow his client to say anything or answer any questions”.

“Where are we going?”

“I don't know. Let's try the Cottage Court. I'm in the mood for fried oysters”.

“You buying?”

“Naturally, you cheap bastard”.

By two o'clock that afternoon Captain Wallace and Sergeant Stiles entered the interrogation room where John Hanes sat beside his lawyer, Wilbur Sims.

“Sergeant for the benefit of Mr. Sims and his client, read the Miranda warning to Mr. Hanes.”, said Wallace.

When Stiles was finished Wallace looked at Sims and said.”Instead of wasting your time and my time with you objecting to any question I might ask I'm not going to ask any questions. Instead, I'm actually going to do you a favor counselor. I'm going to tell your client sitting there exactly what he did and what we know he did.

Let's start with the afternoon of June the ninth of this year.

At that time there was a fashion show given to a company here in Nautilus beach for a convention. One of the members of that convention was a Mr. Homer Bule. He viewed the models, paying particular attention to a young lady, Pauline Harris.

He paid so much attention that he was approached by another model. A blond. Martha Hanes. In a conversation between Martha Hanes and Homer Bule it was mentioned that the models were available for private showings. Bule immediately jumped at the chance and requested Pauline Harris. A price was mentioned and agreed upon. Only there was a problem. Mr. Bule the C.E.O. of a corporation couldn't be seen in an adulterous situation. That set into motion two things. The first was that for seven hundred dollars the young model would do the private showing at the home of John and Martha Hanes. Second, since Bule couldn't be seen cheating on his wife he was a perfect candidate for extortion. So it was decided to have Bule use the spare bedroom where hidden cameras and listening devices were situated.

Derrick Butler persuaded Pauline Harris to give a private showing at the Bayview address. Being young and naive she assumed that she was to model the dress she had wore during the show. When Butler picked her up and drove her to the Hanes residence she was wearing a black, Kalinka outfit. When she got in the van she handed the handbag to Butler. Who later gave it to his wife since it was loaned to the modeling agency.

Upon her arrival at the house ,Martha and John here tried get Pauline to engage is sexual acts with Buel. She refused. As the three of them argued Derrick Butler was downstairs in the small video equipment room getting ready to catch any and all acts on a cassette. I would imagine the first thing he recorded was Homer Buel getting undressed. Bule, then nude, got on the bed.

Outside that bedroom door Martha, John and Pauline continue to argue. John begins to loose patience and threatens the young model. Martha opens the bedroom door and shoves Pauline into the room. At that time Pauline, in a loud voice says, “No, I won't do it!”

Angry, John rushed into the room, grabbed Pauline Harris from behind and lifted her up off of the floor. In a rage he turns her, grabs her by the throat and fractures the hyroid bone in her neck which strangles her to death. Then, he is faced with two problems. A dead body and a direct witness. What to do. Easy, instead of demanding money from Bule he demands silence. Bule's silence in exchange for his attempted adultery and ruined reputation. As for the body, that's easy too. Take it out on the boat and dump it overboard. But, where? Along the beach? Too many places and people. It's after nine at night and the Coast Guard has a tower on the boardwalk in the Inlet, that registers every boat registration number passing by, so going out into the ocean is out of the question. Then, what? Ah, it's full moon and high tide. As a local boy who swam off of the beaches of the island and as a sports fisherman with a boat he is more than familiar with the rip tide that rushes out of the headwaters of Great Bay. Drop a body there and the rip current would do the job and quickly take it out to sea. Hopefully there it would disappear. However, he forgot to take account the fact that the New Hampshire Ave. jetty had been extended, which changes the flow of water at that point.

What happens next is that Butler rushes upstairs and stands, watches and listens as Martha and John give Bule the alternative. Keep quiet or else. As Bule rushes to get dressed he sees Hanes and Butler carry the body of Pauline out the back, and through the sliding glass doors. John Hanes thinks of everything. One of the things he had installed was a motion detector on his dock. When anything moved at night, bright lights instantly came on and illuminated the dock and the boat tied to it. When Hanes and Butler caused the lights to go on, Homer Bule read the words on the stern of the boat, “U Owe Me”.

Bule, dressed and scared is leaving. As he does he turns at the sound of twin engines in the boat starting and running. He also sees Derrick Butler tossing the lines from the boat to the dock.

So, then at the helm is the local sportsman, winner of many tournaments and most important an expert when it comes to the knowledge of the local waters. He pilots the U Owe Me from his dock to about one mile past Sebastian Island Bridge. How do we know this. Allow me to explain what I think happened next. Once a mile past the bridge Hanes put the engine in neutral and waited until there was a definite sign that the tide was turning. When it did he watched ripples and swirls in the moonlit water. Then John Hanes picked up the body of Pauline Harris and dropped her over the side of the boat. Why do I think that John Hanes was the one who dropped the body overboard? Because Butler was too small and too weak. However, as they waited for the tide to turn and with the boat in neutral, the boat had drifted into shallow water. Pauline's body, then dead weight sunk immediately to the muddy bottom of Great Bay in about five feet of water. We know this because when she hit bottom her dress collected a certain kind of algae that grows in Great Bay. The other thing is that when the engines went from neutral to forward, one of the propellers struck a clam bed chipping the blades. Within the next couple of days John Hanes had the propeller replaced in order to compete in the local tuna tournament. Circumstantial evidence to be sure, but you have to admit two things Mr. Sims, the evidence fits like a glove and more than one person has been convicted with circumstantial evidence. However, allow me to continue.

This morning during the arrest of Derrick Butler and John Hanes we also served a search warrant for the dwelling on Bayview Ave. as well as the U Owe Me. During the search of the pleasure boat Lieutenant Campo used a sterile vacuum with sterile collecting bags. She went over every inch of the cabin, inside and outside. When she got to the main deck se swept from the helm to the stern and guess what she found?

Wallace held up a clear, plastic, evidence envelope. In it was a black thread containing silver and copper wires entwined. “This is the identical thread and wires that is sewn into the fabric of the Kalinka Dress. The dress Pauline Harris was wearing at the fashion show, at the home of Martha and John Hanes and on the boat, U Owe Me. It had caught in the teak deck of the boat.

Now if I haven't given you enough evidence, enough information there is one other factor. Right about now, after confessing his role in the death of Pauline Harris Derrick Butler or Dominic Desilvio is arranging a plea deal with the Prosecutor. I'm sure he will reveal John Hanes part in this case. In addition the county prosecutor has a written and tape recorded deathbed deposition from one, Homer Bule, You see, from the time Bule went back to Canada until yesterday two things happened, One,

Buel became ill. Second, he was told by doctors that he was dying from lymphoma and lung cancer and only had weeks to live. When we found him he was willing to talk. He no longer had anything to lose or to fear.

Our investigation is still on going. The rest of the women will be arrested on prostitution charges, including Martha Hanes. What she tells us might result in a further inquiry in the actions of Erica Butler. One thing is for sure. The modeling agency will be closed.

Hanes, I've been a police officer for fifteen years. I've arrested child molesters, rapist's, murderers, pimps, and whores, but although they might be considered the dregs of society I can't find words that describe any man that would pimp his own wife for money. You disgust me.

Mr. Sims, I have nothing more to say. Anything you want or need in this case is now between you and Mr. Elroy”.

“Thank you Captain, but that won't be necessary. I'll be withdrawing from this case. Like you, I can't represent a man who sits in a room and watches his own wife in bed with another man for financial gain. I'll notify the court and Mr. Elroy. Thank you for your time”.

“You're welcome sir.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

Dinner At Eight

 

Wallace answered the telephone on his desk at home. “Hello?”

“It's me. Where are we going tonight?,”asked Emily.

“A place called the Glass Managerie. We're celebrating breaking the Harris case. All the people from my squad will be there with their wives, girlfriends or boyfriends”.

“Is this a fancy place?”

“Fancy no. Classy, yes”.

“And when do we have to be there?”

“I made reservations for dinner at eight”.

“I don't know what to wear”.

“Why would you? I only told you about the dinner two days ago”.

“You're not funny”

“Just be ready by seven thirty. That's when I'll pick you up”.

“Alright I might have a surprise for you”.

“Everyday is a surprise with you”.

“There you go again, you're not funny.

“Seven thirty, bye”.

At seven thirty that evening Robert Wallace saw Emily Westcoat standing in the circular driveway of her apartment building. She was holding the handle of a small suitcase with wheels.

“Going somewhere?”, he asked.

“It's a surprise. Can I put this in the trunk?”

Wallace pushed the button on the dashboard releasing the trunk lid then sat and watched Emily walk behind his car, lift and place the suitcase in the trunk and then close the lid.

Inside the Glass Menagerie Wallace was greeted by the maitre d.

“Good evening Captain. Your party is in the private dining room, just as you requested,”he said.

“Thank you Charles. Is Manny in tonight?”

“No sir, he's in Vegas, He's concerned about the rumor that casino's are coming here so he's out there researching the restaurant business in relation to gambling”.

“Smart. What time does the orchestra come on?”

“At eight, still the same”.

“Thanks again, I'll see you when I leave”.

“Very good sir”.

When Emily and Wallace entered the private dining room they were greeted by friendly cheers by the police officers and their guests.

Introductions were made and afterward s the gathering demanded a toast and speech. Wallace stood and said. “Well gang, once again you came through. Thanks to all of you, Carol for a great job as lead investigator, Frank, dependable as usual, Tom good job, and to a special lady and a great forensic technician, June Campo many many thanks. Now, let's eat and later drink and dance.

On the dance floor Wallace took Emily in his arms. “Ummmn”, he said.

“What's ummmn?”, Emily asked.

“That's how nice you feel in my arms”.

“Really?'

“Yep”.

“Good, that goes with the surprise I have for you”.

“And just what is the surprise?”

“The suitcase”.

“Oh yeah, what's in it?”

“A change of clothes and a little black nighty. I'm going home with you tonight”.

“Hmmmmn”.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, I like doctors that make house calls”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Imprint

Publication Date: 08-20-2014

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Dedeicated to Cynthis Goldberg