Circle of Terror

by Larry Powalisz

  “It’s isn’t James, not ain’t.”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  Tomczyk walked over to the strikingly beautiful, early forties black woman ten feet away and gave her a kiss on the lips. “How’s it going, Ada? Great to see you again. Wish I could see you at work instead of your hubby. You’d brighten up my day more.”

  “Thanks, Declan. So Bobby tells me you’re hooking up with a hot-lookin’ FBI agent. Tell me all about it.”

  “One date doesn’t make a relationship, but she’s a fantastic person—even if an FBI agent. You’re off the market, Ada, so I had to review my options and figure something else out. Bobby’s not the smartest, but I realized he latched on to one of the finest women around and won’t let you go. The best we can do is envy him.” Looking over at Bobby, Tomczyk winked.

  “Always the charmer. Bobby keeps telling me you’re one of the best interviewers he’s ever worked with. Is it because of your fine line of BS?”

  “Who, me?” Tomczyk innocently declared, pointing his finger at his chest.

  Bobby sat down next to his wife. James grabbed onto Tomczyk’s arm. “Uncle Ski, can you sit next to me?”

  “Nobody else I’d rather sit next to in this whole stadium than you, kiddo.”

  They spent the next twenty minutes talking about what had been going on in their lives. The announcer spoke into the loud speaker, and it crackled to life.

  “Welcome to the divisional playoff game between the Alexander Hamilton Wildcats and Rufus King Generals. Please rise and remove your hats. Janie Marking, a senior music student at King, will be singing the National Anthem.”

  The thousands of fans in attendance rose and waited for the music to begin. Tomczyk placed his right hand over his chest and looked over at the large American flag located at one of the end zones of the stadium, marveling at how it waved in the breeze. The view brought memories of his days in Iraq, fighting for that beautiful red, white, and blue cloth. Tears welled up in his eyes as he listened to the talented, young female belt out the song he’d heard so many hundreds of times before.

  He saw a couple of teenage boys wearing their baseball caps, talking, and being disrespectful several rows away. His first thought was to go over, remove their hats, squeeze them by their necks, and point their heads in the direction of the flag. He decided it would be better to stand down. Not my fight—they obviously have parents who don’t know any better, he thought to himself. Let a child of mine EVER act like that during the playing of the Star Spangled Banner. Guaranteed he wouldn’t be able to sit for a week.

  “Hamilton won the coin toss and has elected to defer,” the announcer intoned.

  “Great, we get the ball first,” James said gleefully.

  “You’re right. We’ll get a chance to see what your big brother can do.”

  The kickoff landed deep into the end zone for a touchback. The referee placed the ball on the twenty-yard line.

  “Ski, the QB is a junior named Ken Downing. Heck of an arm.” Bobby pointed to the player wearing the number four blue jersey with gold lettering. Downing took the snap and handed the ball off to Junior, who slammed up the middle for a twelve-yard gain. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Bobby yelled at his talented son. “Keep it going!”

  Downing took the snap on the second play, stepped up into the pocket, and threw a bullet spiral twenty-five yards downfield to number eighty-eight. The receiver, making some amazing jukes to avoid two defenders, shook off two additional tacklers and ran into the end zone for a sixty-eight-yard touchdown.

  “Oh, my gosh, who are these guys?” Tomczyk excitedly proclaimed, high-fiving James. “Go, Generals! Can’t believe I’m cheering against my alma mater.”

  “That’s Junior’s best friend, Demetrius Simms. They made First Team All-Conference together. As you can see, he’s got game. Has several scholarship offers, but is still undecided. Remember Willie Simms from District Seven? That’s his kid.”

  Declan recalled the shooting several years ago at a gas station in the inner city where Police Officer Willie Simms was killed trying to stop a robbery in progress that he happened upon while stopping for a soda. Simms shot and killed one of the robbers and wounded the other, but not before one of them shot him in the chest. He died the next morning. “That was a terrible day. I remember it well. Only had one dealing with him. A heck of a cop was the impression I got.”

  “I hear ya, brotha’. He was good peeps. Yeah, this will be an interesting game—as long as King wins,” Bobby added, reaching over to give Ada a kiss on the cheek.

  The game went back and forth for the next two hours, with the Generals coming out on top, 45-24, and moving onto the next playoff game. Bobby Heard Jr. finished with over two hundred yards rushing, and his friend Demetrius Simms finished with eight receptions for 184 yards.

  “Very impressive win, Bobby. Thanks again for the invite. Makes me feel bad I missed this season, but I’ll clear my schedule for the next game. Keep me posted when and where.”

  “You got it, buddy. C’mon. Let’s catch up with Junior. I know he’ll want to see you.”

  “That’d be great.”

  They strolled out of the stadium and stood outside the visitors’ locker room doors for the next fifteen minutes. Some of the players emerged from the locker room, carrying blue and gold Rufus King gym bags and wearing sport coats, ties, and dress shirts.

  “Still a dress code. Gotta love it. Builds character.”

  Junior walked out of the locker room, speaking with several other players. When he saw Tomczyk, his eyes lit up. “Uncle Ski, you made the game!” He walked over and hugged the longtime family friend. “Great to see ya.”

  “Don’t make me feel bad, Junior. I’ve been slacking. See you haven’t stopped growing yet,” as he looked at the handsome young man who was nearly as tall as he was. “Man, you guys rocked it. Tore it up, man, tore it up.”

  Junior gave Ada and Bobby a hug, then a double high five with his biggest fan, James.

  “Thanks for coming. Hey, I’d like to introduce you to two of my buddies. This is Ken Downing, our QB, and this is Demetrius Simms, split end. We call them Thunder and Lightning.”

  “Boy, I’ll say,” said Tomczyk. “Think I saw that quote in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel sports section once or twice. It’s an honor to meet you guys. Just stay on track; study hard, and train harder.”

  James chimed in. “C’mon, you guys. You have to do your thing.”

  “Okay, okay, James. Always for you, Little Man.”

  “Thunder,” said Ken as he did a left arm curl bodybuilding pose.

  “Lightning,” said Demetrius as he did the same with his right arm.

  “Booyah!” they said in unison as they struck a double arm trapezius pose.

  “Oh, boy. Now I’ve seen it all,” Tomczyk said bursting out in laughter. “Fantastic!”

  “Thunder, Lightning, this is my Uncle Ski, uh, Declan Tomczyk. You may see the family resemblance,” Junior smiled as he positioned his ebony face next to Tomczyk’s Caucasian face. “Former All-American middle linebacker for the Wisconsin Badgers and Rose Bowl wrecking ball against the Washington Huskies. He works with my dad at the PD.”

  “Nice intro, Junior. I’ll give you that twenty bucks later for the kind words.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, sir,” they both said as the young men shook hands with a fellow gridiron lover. “Then you played for Coach Alaveres, right?”

  “One of the greatest men I’ve ever known. You know what a difference a coach can make in your life. Coach A had the uncanny ability to make you the best you could be, both here and here,” he said pointing to his head and heart. “Truly, a man among men.”

  “Well said. We’re going to check out Applebee’s for a little celebration and late dinner. You want to join us?” Bobby asked his good friend. “By the way, did I tell you Junior accepted the scholarship at Stanford?”

  “Good thing he has his mother’s brains and will do well there. Would love to
, brotha’ Bobby. I have no plans for tonight. Can’t tell you how much I appreciate you including me in your celebration.” Tomczyk walked up behind Junior and James and placed his arms around them. “Let’s do it, guys. Your Dad is letting me tag around with two of my best buds. Plus, he said he’s going to buy, which is a rare treat in itself. Congrats on the scholarship, Junior. I’m so proud of both of you!” How he wished he could have had kids with Marie before she died of that terrible illness.

  “Big shot detec and he wants me to buy!”

  Declan’s mind shot back to reality when he felt the cell phone on the left side of his waist start to vibrate. He grabbed it from the black leather case on his belt and looked at the familiar number on the screen. “This is Tomczyk.”

  “Ski, this is Bill. Lieutenant Vohl told me to give you a call. He just received a call from Chicago PD intel. Appears there was a bombing in their city with the same MO as our cemetery bombing. Two cops were conveyed to the hospital. No details on their conditions. They want you and Agent Dvorak down at CPD HQ first thing tomorrow to discuss the similarity of the cases. We notified the FBI. Dvorak just called back to say she’ll be here at oh-five-thirty to pick you up. You need her cell number to square things up?”

  “I have it, Bill. Thanks. I’ll call her right now.”

  William Howe was the sergeant assigned to the intel squad for the early shift, which ran from four o’clock in the afternoon to midnight. He was the supervisor for the police officers who worked there and occasionally partnered up with the detectives when they went on the street. He had fifteen years with the department, twelve of those being one of the most active cops in the city. Sergeant Howe worked some of the specialized units because of his knack for solving crimes and tracking down “bad boys.” He was a wealth of information for the unit and a mentor for the officers assigned there.

  Tomczyk touched the screen next to Anne’s name, which dialed her work cell number.

  “Declan, I just saw you last night. You miss me already?”

  “You’re a funny girl. Thought about you all day, and I realize after our short time together that I can’t live without you.”

  “Now that’s what I like to hear. Ha-ha. Just spoke to my supervisor about the trip in the morning, so he’s on board. I’ll pick you up in front of the PD at five-thirty. They want us down there at eight, and traffic to Chi-town is always a wall around rush hour. Is that cool with you? I probably know as much about this meeting as you do, so it should be interesting.”

  “I hear ya. Heading out to get some chow with a good friend and his family for a little high school football victory celebration, but I’ll cut it short for the oh-dark-thirty wake up. See you mañana.”

  “Looking forward to it. ’Night.” She placed the light blue-colored cellphone back on the nightstand. She hated getting up that early—for work or any other reason.

  A text crossed over his phone from Sergeant Howe. “CPD just called back. Bad news. One cop just died at the hospital. The other is in critical but stable condition.”

  “Damn!”

  Chapter 14

  CHICAGO TRIP

  Tomczyk maneuvered his truck into the public parking garage. He placed his key fob next to the gray plastic reader, and the wooden gate came to life and lifted up. All right, he thought to himself. Got one of the premium parking spots for a change. He grabbed his backpack and walked across a quiet State Street. He pulled the lanyard containing his ID card out of his jacket and buzzed himself in. Above the double doors, the sign read EMPLOYEES ONLY. The numbers 749 were attached to the concrete wall above the door. Police Headquarters, built in 1970, was located next to the Milwaukee County Safety Building. Behind both buildings was MacArthur Square, a plaza named after an infamous Milwaukee native, General Douglas MacArthur. Also attached to the square was the old and dramatic-looking County Courthouse, with its newer addition, the Criminal Justice Facility.

  Tomczyk ran the stairs up to the second floor and keyed his way into the squad. He grabbed his assigned department radio from the rack, along with a spare battery just in case. No one was there yet. He removed the case file he had amassed from a locked drawer in his desk. He also snatched a couple power bars from a box he stored in another drawer. His watch showed five-twenty-five. Five minutes—I better hit it.

  As he walked out into the hallway, Lieutenant Fred Hetzer happened to be waiting for an elevator. Hetzer was a new lieutenant on the midnight-to-eight shift. Tomczyk was never a fan of Hetzer’s, whom he considered a lazy coward from their time together as police officers. Hetzer made one of his usual sarcastic remarks about Tomczyk being at work early. “Always trying to beat the other detectives for the big headline, huh, Tomczyk?” he said with an irritating smirk. Declan was in no mood for the comment as the dead and wounded officers in Chicago weighed heavy on him.

  He positioned himself directly in the man’s face. “Lieu-TEN-ant, you wouldn’t know what an arrest was if it kicked you in the face. Your years at Number Five were spent hiding from work, just like at the Bureau, so you could study your ass off and get promoted. I have no use for any person who refuses to do his share of the work and not back up fellow cops when they call for help. I have more respect for some of the people I arrest than a do-nothing like you. I’d love to discuss your uselessness further, but I have a very important place to be right now!” Before the lieutenant could say anything, Tomczyk took the stairs down to the exit and climbed the concrete steps to the sidewalk level. The now-familiar Dodge Intrepid pulled up, and he saw the smiling face of Anne Dvorak behind the wheel. He would deal with the repercussions of what he had said when he returned to the building.

  “Morning, sunshine,” he said, climbing into the front seat.

  “Back at ya, Detective. You ready for a hopefully informative and productive day? Did they tell you about the one cop dying?”

  “Yes. Absolutely terrible news. Let’s hope the other officer pulls through and we can figure out what’s going on with these cases.”

  “I second that. I’m NOT a morning person, so nudge me if I nod off at all today.” She caught the nearest entrance to the expressway taking them to I-94 and Chicago. “You ready for some coffee or can you hold off until we cross into Illinois?”

  “I can wait until we hit the oasis. No sense me waking up quite yet as long as you’re driving.”

  “Oh, sure. This is what I get for volunteering to drive.”

  “That’s how it is, kid. You’re the fed. I’m just the local boy, remember?”

  Tomczyk told her about his activities the day before at the game and what a great time he had with Bobby and his family. “Junior is a heck of a fullback. He’s getting to be built like a brick crap house, just like his old man. You should’ve seen his buddy Demetrius play. I swear the kid had glue on his hands. He made some amazing catches that would’ve challenged many pro players. It was unbelievable.”

  “Looks like you’ll need to invite me for the next game. I love football, except for Badger and Packer football, of course. Go Huskies and Hawks.”

  “We’ll have to work on that,” he joked. They broke into laughter. “C’mon, Anne. Hate the game, not the playa.” He thought for a second. “Let’s see, I filled you in on everything with the Gordon Park homicide and his connection to the cemetery bombing. We caught a break on the search warrant of the guy in Bay View. He laid much of it out for us during the interview. It was very productive.”

  “Only question I had was who’s doing the forensics on the cell phone and thumb drive?”

  “We took the items over to the Secret Service. They have a couple wizards who live to figure that stuff out. Our contact there guaranteed results within the week.”

  Anne pulled off the Illinois State Tollway into the Lake Forest Oasis parking lot spanning I-94. “Starbucks okay?”

  “That’ll work. Not too bad; it’s six-twenty. It’ll be a little slower as we head south from here.”

  “You can count on it.”

  W
ithin ten minutes they were in the car with full cups of coffee and back on the tollway toward the Windy City. The traffic turned out to be lighter than usual, and they made good time. They merged from the Kennedy to the Eden’s Expressway as they wound through Chicago’s Loop. It was a clear day. The Chicago skyline, with 1,451-foot Willis Tower, formerly the Sears Tower, as well as some of the other iconic buildings, loomed high over the city.

  “Well, Mr. Navigator, I’ve never been to CPD Headquarters, so you’ll have to direct me.”

  “No worries.” The Dan Ryan Expressway was also running smoothly. “This is great. Take the Thirty-fifth Street exit here by U.S. Cellular Field—old Comiskey Park.” They found a rare parking spot on Michigan Avenue down the block from the building. “This neighborhood sure has changed over the last twenty years. Used to be ‘housing project central’ on the east side of the x-way. What do you call that—gentrification?”

  “Very good.” Upon entering the building, they showed their badges and credentials to the uniformed police officers and were directed around the magnetometers. Declan pointed out to Anne all the plaques with badges honoring slain officers along both sides of the walls in the main lobby. “A number of cops have been killed in this city. One of the more storied histories of any city in the country.”

  “I’ll say. Unbelievable.” She took it all in. “Where are we heading to?”

  “Their intel squad is on the fifth floor. I’ve only been there once before.”

  When they got off the elevator, they walked over to a large, wooden door with black letters—INTELLIGENCE SQUAD. He knocked, and a buzzer sounded within seconds, allowing them entry.

  They identified themselves and were directed to a conference room where about twenty people were milling about, waiting for the meeting to begin.

  A tall, well-dressed man of about fifty walked up to them and shook hands. “Captain Tim Kocur, pleased to meet you. You must be Special Agent Dvorak and Detective Tomczyk. Welcome to Chicago.”

  “Thank you, Captain. We’re sorry to hear about the officers and are here to assist in any way we can.”