by Jim Laughter
“Yes sir, but…”
“You two dummies have probably opened this agency up to more shit than a Kansas outhouse!”
“I know sir, but…”
“And guess who gets to shovel that shit back into the hole!”
Cooper raised his hand like a schoolboy asking permission to speak. Morris turned on him, his eyes ablaze. The wolf had found its lamb. Now for the kill.
“You ain’t got nothin' to say that I wanna hear, Cooper, so I suggest you sit there on your California smart ass, keep your mouth shut, and let the adults talk.”
“But sir…”
“They got what we sent them for,” Keller interjected between Morris’ rants. “And then some.”
Morris turned his attention away from Cooper. “I don’t give a shit if they…” He paused. “What do you mean ‘and then some?’”
He circled Cooper and Benjamin still sitting in front of Keller’s desk. He envisioned himself as a Texas vulture circling dying prey on the ground.
What kind of crap could these two idiots have dug up? And how deep is it gonna get before I have to get a boat and paddle?
“Are you tryin' to tell me you found the murder weapon?”
“No sir, we…” Benjamin stammered.
“You idgits broke into that doctor’s car without a warrant? Is that what you’re fixin' to tell me?”
Benjamin didn’t answer this time. It wouldn’t do any good.
“’Cause if that’s what you’re fixin' to say, you might as well go home, pack your bags, and start headin' west. Me and Keller will be right behind you as soon as I grow me a new ass.”
Keller stepped between Morris and the two rookie agents. This time her facial expression wasn’t motherly. It was hard and no nonsense. She’d reached the edge of her patience with Morris and his bull-headedness.
“If you don’t shut the hell up and let these boys talk, Truck and Wheeling are going to be the least of your concerns.”
Morris had seen that look before. He remembered the time he’d assaulted a witness in Nashville, Tennessee and Keller had taken him to task for it. He was the senior member in their partnership but he knew better than to oppose her when she had that ‘I’ll bust a cap in your ass’ tone in her voice. He resigned himself to the fact that whatever the rookies had dug up was either going to play an important role in arresting their serial killer, or it was going to bring down a whole new world of frustration into his life. Either way, he knew he didn’t have a choice but to listen to what they had to say. He pulled a chair away from a nearby table and sat down in it.
Might as well be comfortable for this.
“Now Dunc,” Keller began when she saw the fight go out of Morris, “these boys did a good job on their assignment.”
He didn’t answer.
“They not only produced a viable suspect for the murders, they established two corroborating witnesses and allies. You can’t ask for anything more.”
Morris nodded. He’d lost this battle and most likely the war. How had it come to this? He remembered a time when he was in charge around here. Now this Bible-thumpin' religious nut and a red-headed goofball from Tennessee had taken over his office and were hell-bent on ruining his life.
God, I should'a stayed in Texas.
Morris rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. He looked up at Keller standing over him.
“You said they come up with something more?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Like what, the President’s a cross-dresser and is girlfriends with the attorney general?”
“Not exactly.”
When she was certain Morris was no longer a threat to the rookies, Keller moved away from him and returned to her chair behind her desk. She signaled to Cooper and Benjamin that everything was under control. The vision of the President wearing a pink pinafore with lace-ruffle panties made her laugh.
“You think somethin's funny, do ya?”
Keller laughed again, this time she was joined by Cooper and Benjamin. Seeing Morris sitting there waiting for the world to fall on top of his bald head struck her funny instead of as the serious situation they were actually in.
Morris listened while Keller, Benjamin, and Cooper laid out the details of their undercover assignment, complete with the President’s Secret Service agent’s involvement with call girls. He couldn’t believe the story they were telling him. He’d sent two lambs to the slaughter and they came out king sheep.
Keller had requested a warrant to search the doctor’s car. They were just waiting for the judge to sign it and get it back to them. They’d already drafted the warrant to search the doctor’s medical clinic should the car turn up any good evidence. Getting a federal judge to sign a warrant to search his office at the White House could prove impossible.
Hookers, Morris thought. Prostitution and politics were old bedfellows. He had no idea how they were going to convince Truck and Wheeling to authorize an investigation into the President’s security detail. He wasn’t even sure the scandal fell under their jurisdiction.
God, I need a drink.
Morris sat holding his head in his hands. He was tired; too damn tired and too damn sober to deal with this tonight but he had no choice.
“So this Toolie and Jake are going to somehow keep Doctor Williams from getting into his car, is that right?” Morris asked Benjamin and Cooper.
“Yes sir,” Benjamin answered for both of them.
He examined the two rookies sitting at Keller’s desk. Did they understand the career-changing magnitude of the information they’d just shared?
“And just exactly how do they plan to do that?”
Cooper and Benjamin exchanged glances. Morris didn’t like the expressions on either of their faces. Cooper shrugged his shoulders and said, “We ain’t got one damn clue, sir.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Air Force One landed at Andrews Air Force Base exactly on schedule and taxied to its designated static pad outside the massive hanger reserved for it and the motorcade vehicles. Instead of returning to the White House in Marine One, the President and his party would be transported in The Beast and secondary limousine while the rest of the motorcade personnel rode in the same bus they’d taken from the White House on Monday. It would take at least fifteen minutes to unload The Beast and other essential vehicles. Although the President would not deplane until his transportation was secured, nonessential personnel were allowed to disembark and remove their personal gear from the plane.
Doctor John Williams watched out his window while the press corps and other support people made their way across the hanger to the large white bus. He spotted his Town Car in its normal position among the motorcade vehicles. Nothing looked strange or out of place and he didn’t expect anyone had tampered with it.
Everyone knew the only people authorized to even come near his car was himself and the Secret Service agent who drove it on and off the aircraft. There were only two sets of keys and he had one of them in his pocket. Still he felt a tingling inside, that strange sensation that always warned him to be careful. He’d felt it many times when seeking out the right prostitute and danger was near.
When everyone else had left the plane, the doctor retrieved his carry-on bag from the overhead compartment and removed his briefcase from off the vacant seat beside him. He was alone on the aircraft with exception to the President in his quarters, the flight crew, and the Secret Service detail still onboard.
After a few minutes, The Beast and secondary limousine were brought around and parked parallel to Air Force One, forming a wall between the hanger and the aircraft. He knew it was security protocol to position the vehicles between the President leaving the airplane and any potential shooter. But why anyone would want to take a shot at this President was beyond his comprehension. No terrorist or radical group ever had a better friend in the White House.
As was his custom, the doctor waited for the President to disembark and make his way to The Beast. Only the Andrews Air F
orce Base commander and a small spattering of other military officials were waiting outside to greet their commander-in-chief.
He followed the chief executive down the stairway and made his way to the secondary limousine where he tossed his carry-on bag and briefcase into the back seat and slid across so he could see out the passenger window. He spotted a large man standing in the hanger beside the ambulance parked next to the Town Car and recognized him as the man in charge of the motorcade.
Again, his senses tingled. I’ll come back first thing in the morning to clear my things out of the car.
In his mind, he could visualize the plastic bag filled with bloody clothes stashed beneath the spare tire in the trunk. He could also still feel the handle of his knife in his hand; the knife he’d locked in the glove compartment.
Before long, the President was safely tucked away inside his armored vehicle while the abbreviated motorcade took shape behind them. They wouldn’t need the ambulance or other intermediate vehicles for the short drive across town. The usual black Suburban fell into third place behind the secondary limo, and not too far behind it was the communications vehicle.
Amid a flurry of flashing lights and sirens, the motorcade began to move for the twenty-minute drive to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. The doctor glanced out the window again at his car and the large man standing nearby.
I’m tired, he thought. So damn tired. All I want to do is go home and sleep.
The strange sensation he’d felt so many times stirred inside of him. Where had it come from? How had he acquired it? And how did it always know when danger was near?
Chapter Fifty-Two
The warrant to search the Town Car came through a few minutes after 8 pm. Morris read the document just to be sure it covered every contingent. The one thing he didn’t want was to find evidence in the car and not be able to follow-up with the doctor’s clinic. He already knew they wouldn’t be able to storm the White House with the circumstantial evidence they had now, but if they could find something good in the car, they could request a warrant for the doctor’s arrest which they could serve anywhere in the District of Colombia, even in the White House.
“This is it,” Morris said to his team of investigators. “We’ve got this sucker by the short-hairs now.”
Keller took the document from Morris. She hadn’t expected it to be approved this quickly. Instead, she figured they’d have to wait until morning. The judge she’d petitioned for the warrant was one of her husband’s golfing friends and a staunch conservative republican. She’d hoped he would honor her request based solely on his dislike of this administration and his friendship with her husband.
The judge had not only approved the warrant to search the doctor’s car, he’d issued a provisional warrant for his clinic and arrest should they find incriminating evidence in the Town Car. She looked at her watch and realized the clinic was already closed for the night, which was just fine with her. Perhaps they could catch the doctor in his office in the morning.
“You just gonna sit there on your ass, or are we goin' to Andrews?” Morris asked Keller.
Cooper removed Jake’s business card from his shirt pocket and handed it to George.
“What’s that?” Morris asked.
“It’s Jake’s phone number, sir,” Cooper answered. “He said to call him if we were coming to Andrews.”
“We don’t work for that sum'bitch.”
“No sir, we don’t. But if we want to get close to that car, which is parked in the same hanger as Air Force One, we’re going to have to get past a detail of heavily armed Secret Service agents.”
“And this Jake?”
“He’s probably the only agent on the President’s detail that can get us to it.”
“Him and Mr. Toolie,” Benjamin said. Cooper nodded.
“Call him,” Morris said. “Tell him we’ll be there in half an hour.”
Benjamin dialed Jake’s number and waited while the phone rang. Instead of answering, the call went directly to voicemail. He hung up and dialed the number again only to receive the same results.
“Voicemail,” he said.
“Shit,” Cooper muttered.
“Jake, this is FBI Agent George Benjamin. We’re on our way to Andrews with a warrant to search Doctor Williams’ car. We’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Have you got Mr. Toolie’s number?” Keller asked Cooper.
He nodded his head and reached for his cell phone.
“He’s probably still at Andrews, but he might be back at the White House by now, that is, if they were able to secure the doctor’s car. We drove his truck here.”
“Where’s George’s car?”
“It’s parked at the White House where we left it,” Cooper answered.
“Give Toolie a call.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Keller bristled at being called ma’am but Cooper didn’t notice. She’d admonished him and Benjamin dozens of times not to call her ma’am. It made her feel old, and right now, she was feeling her age.
∞∞∞∞
Jake felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket but he was in a debrief meeting with the Chief of White House Security and the other agents from the west coast trip. He looked at the screen but didn’t recognize the number, so instead of answering it, he let it go to voicemail. He only hoped it wasn’t Cooper calling him from the FBI.
Why the hell didn’t I give him Toolie’s number too? Then again, they should have his number since they’re on the executive driving team.
Toolie wasn’t included in this briefing since he was not a Secret Service agent. Instead, he’d debrief his motorcade team at a separate meeting tomorrow.
∞∞∞∞
The contingent of three FBI vehicles carrying Morris, Keller, Benjamin, and Cooper, along with a forensics team arrived at Andrews Air Force Base at exactly 8:30 pm. Also included in the caravan was a tow truck driven by an agent from the FBI motor pool.
Instead of being given immediate entrance to the base, they were forced to wait in a small parking lot near the main gate while the base commander was contacted by the security police officer-in-charge. Even Morris’s presentation of a federal warrant to search the doctor’s car to the captain didn’t dissuade him from following security protocol. After twenty frustrating minutes of Morris ranting and raving at the security officer, the base commander’s staff car pulled into the parking lot and a full colonel got out of the back seat.
“What the hell is going on here?” Morris shouted at the colonel. “Don’t you people recognize a federal warrant when it’s presented to ya?”
The officer didn’t answer Morris. He didn’t like the looks of the unkempt man standing there in his stained and wrinkled suit, his bald head, and his shaggy handle-bar mustache. He didn’t like the gruffness of his voice or his demeanor, and he certainly didn’t like being yelled at by a man whose credentials he hadn’t verified. This was his base and he sure as hell wasn’t going to take any crap from this civilian, even if he was from the FBI. Instead, he asked the young captain standing with Morris for the warrant which he handed to his commander. The colonel thumbed through the document, never answering Morris’ question or even acknowledging his presence.
Keller could see the frustration building up inside of Morris and feared he might explode into another of his rants that could deny them access to the base, which from the look on the colonel’s face was a real possibility. She stepped out of the Ford Crown Victoria she’d ridden in with Morris, Cooper, and Benjamin.
“Excuse me, Colonel,” she said to the base commander. “May I have a word with you?”
“What the hell…” Morris started to say but Keller cut him off.
“Dunc, please get back in the car. Let me handle this.”
“If you think for one damn minute that I’m…”
“Dunc, get back in the car! I’ll handle this.”
Morris wrinkled up his face and sneered at Keller, casting daggers between her and the officer.
How the hell is a man supposed to argue with a woman, especially one as strong-willed as Keller?
He turned away from Keller and the colonel and climbed into the front passenger seat of the Ford.
“Don’t say one damn word,” he said to Cooper sitting behind the wheel.
“No sir.”
“You damn rookies and that woman are gonna be the death of me yet.”
“Yes sir.”
Once Morris was out of the picture, Keller spoke to the base commander in as pleasant a voice as she could muster after such a long and trying day.
“Colonel, I’m FBI Special Agent Lynn Keller.”
She extended her right hand to the colonel who reluctantly took it in a semi-friendly handshake. “Ma’am.”
“We have a serious situation that we need your help with,” she continued.
“Ma’am?”
God, here’s another one calling me ma’am, she thought.
“Colonel, the warrant you’re holding in your hand is our authorization to search a vehicle that just came back from the west coast as part of the presidential motorcade.”
The colonel didn’t answer Keller. Instead, he just waited for her to expound on her statement.
“We have reason to believe the man the vehicle belongs to is responsible for the murder of over a dozen women all across this country. We also have reason to believe the weapon he uses to kill these women is hidden in that vehicle.”
The colonel examined the warrant. He also noted the shocked expression on the security police officer’s face.
“The Town Car?”
“Yes sir.”
“The Town Car that belongs to the President’s doctor?”
“Yes sir.”
“So I guess you know we have standing orders not to allow anyone access to that vehicle under any circumstances.”
“Yes sir.”
“Then I’m not sure if I can…”
“Sir, did you see the news this evening about the prostitute that was found murdered in Sacramento early this morning?”
“I did,” he answered. “The news said she was cut up pretty bad.”