The Mystery Maxims of Jake Spade - Case #1 FORGIVEN

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The Mystery Maxims of Jake Spade - Case #1 FORGIVEN Page 3

by Henry H. H. Hittlebloome


  "Indeed," said Spade.

  "You must understand Captain, it is our method to confirm what you've told us so far, and, what you tell us henceforth," I said.

  "Captain, if we are to understand you correctly, it is your claim that the missing money is, as you say, a local issue, then our presence in the matter must indicate your belief the case involves internal players...person's within the precinct or police department?" Jake said.

  "With the money being secured the way it was," the Captain murmured, "and even if it was not secured the way it was, I must include everyone who is immediately stationed, their family and any friends or estranged contacts. It has always been my belief that only you, with your unique methods and Irregular force, should be the investigation hub. It seems futile otherwise."

  "You decided your course of our employment as you say merely from the time you arrived on your job, the preceding early morning? That's quick thinking, even for you Captain Cranbury," smiled Jake.

  "My decisions are not made that quickly, Mr. Spade. I had been made aware of you through several contacts here in Detroit and in Washington. So, I knew who you were and the things you've done for some time now. You're not as inconspicuous as you think, even nationally."

  "Indeed."

  "Captain, we're early into the review of videos obtained of your evidence holding area, including the separate fenced area. Can you confirm this separate or secondary area was where the cash was kept?" I said, as Spade fiddled with the tablet, looking at video and texting to someone.

  "Yes, it was secured within the Second-Safe or SS as they call it, held inside a medium sized, green, canvas backpack."

  "It is possible then, from what little we've viewed the money went missing over three weeks ago, maybe longer?"

  "Sure it's possible; the Precinct procedure is for the SS to be physically inventoried every 30 days. The last inventory was conducted 23 days ago."

  I wondered about the inventory procedure, how it was conducted and by whom.

  "What method do you use to inventory the items contained in this SS unit? Do you video it?

  "Yes, they video all contents of the SS the 20th day of each month. Audio is also a part of the video with detailed specifics regarding case numbers, the date the evidence was first assigned to SS, the date of the inventory of course, plus any extraneous information needed that specifically identifies the item being videoed. It's all quite methodical. The money was contained in the SS 23 days ago from my viewing of the archived video. And yes, I had an outside tech come in to verify that the video had not been tampered with."

  Jake, while listening to every syllable of Cranbury's and my conversation, now contributes to the tête-à-tête...

  "Who conducts the inventory? Who videos the event? Who is in attendance when this is done? Where is the video archived? Who has access to the archives? It is my suggestion, Captain, someone within the Precinct evidentiary staff...that our video identifies seven distinct individuals...who may be culpable of effectuating the crime."

  "Okay, if we need someone to put names to faces, then let me confer with Detective Jones; he'll know who everyone is."

  "No need, we've already identified them through the Detroit PD database," I murmured.

  "I should have known."

  "Captain – Darby and I will presume your un-involvement in the matter, re your position newness and Federal employment; nevertheless, it is our method to never disentangle anyone from guilt in a functioning case. You would appreciate the soundness of the strategy surely?"

  "Okay by me," Cranbury stated energetically, as if a wide receiver in a huddle whose number just been called. "Detective Jones will be able to answer your questions about who does the SS videos and where the files are stored, ask him."

  "Thank you, Captain Cranbury, for your cooperation. By the way, we're you aware that Detective Jones and the Precinct cleaning person have a family connection?"

  The Captain looked perplexed on hearing what Spade told him, as did I. The personal background of the seven players had not yet arrived in any of my devices. How did Spade know this? When did he know this?

  "Mr. Spade, the 2nd Precinct consists of three shifts comprising 119 individuals among patrolmen, administrators and support staff. Two individuals family-related out of this amount are hardly meaningful. The PD has no policy regarding its prohibiting of hiring relatives. And, just because it surprises me, doesn't mean it concerns me in the least. I have every confidence in Jones...and his family for that matter."

  "The statistical significance, as you're so quick to point out, Captain Cranbury, must only relate to the seven evidence-room players, plus Detective Jones and yourself. The full portion of the Precinct is not in question...only the nine identifiable individuals whom we know to have been inside the main evidence room since May 20th, 23 days previous. Those nine individuals make up the mathematical equation and statistical significance, Captain. Two of the nine people being ‘family’ are extraordinarily high...and noteworthy in my opinion.”

  Again, the Captain appeared astonished, given his staring face and tilted head. It is not the first of such expressions I've gleaned from individuals who upon learning of Spades capture of the 'significant,' his separation of pertinent data, and, of course, the magnitude and rapidity in which he acquired it.

  Jake was looking at the tablet, switching pages from what looked like video to a calendar, as best I could determine. I wanted to press the Captain about what other details he might think worthy, when Jake interrupted...

  "You're aware Captain that 23 days ago yesterday, was a scheduled inventory day? It's only natural to assume the backpack and its contents were out of the containment area for whatever period of time needed to create the video."

  "Mr. Spade, I told you I viewed the SS inventory tape, May 20 last month, the money was there.”

  "Our video only shows the other inventory event, not the SS 'contents' video, which is a separate video entity, obviously kept in a different file,” said Jake. “We have someone looking for that piece as we speak Captain."

  "I’ll email you the second SS inventory video file so you can see for yourself what transpired,” as Jake nodded. “I need to leave you now and return to the Precinct Station."

  Jake now appeared more upbeat, smiling and shaking the hand of Captain Cranbury.

  "It shouldn't be much longer Captain, I would think by the weekend we’ll have this missing money dilemma of yours resolved."

  The confidence of Spade never ceases to amaze me. Of course, he knew much more than I but from the entirety of information that I was aware, having this case remedied by the weekend, in my mind, was superbly over-confident.

  "Thanks for meeting with us Captain," as I shook his hand, "we've created this private text number for you, so to keep you apprised of our progress," I smiled, handing him a piece of paper.

  The Captain, biting his lip, took the paper and exited Jakes black Mountaineer. He hurriedly walked in the direction of the station house.

  "We meet Detective Jones at 1:00 PM," I reminded Jake.

  "I know, I know," he frowned.

  We sat behind the post office for some time it seemed and I couldn't help but wonder what exactly the archived tape of the SS inventory would reveal. Was the backpack returned to the containment area? Did the tape actually capture the backpack being placed back into the SS? Who did the inventory? Was it an evidence room staffer or some other administrative official? Why didn't Jake or I ask the Captain these very questions when he was here? I quickly texted my questions into his new IM box, maybe we'll hear from him prior to our meeting with Detective Jones.

  "Is there some reason we shouldn't ask Cranbury if the inventory video reveals the backpack being put back into the SS?"

  "No, text him and see what he has to say about that. Maybe Epic3 will have new information regarding the inventory tape, text him too. Surely his video must show some activity of the event on May 20th."

  We exited the Post Office parki
ng lot headed for McDonalds and our meeting with Detective Jones.

  12:58 P.M., Thursday, June 13, 2013

  Jake and I were setting in a booth at McDonalds, across from the 2nd Precinct Station when Detective Jones walked in; he was on time which is always a good sign.

  "Hello Miss Darby, Mr. Spade, how's it going?"

  "Fine, how's it with you Detective?" Jake said.

  "Hi Jules, may I call you Jules?" I responded.

  "Sure, please do."

  Without any hesitation, Jake begins speaking to the Detective without looking up from his phone...

  "We have a video of the Precinct evidence room that illustrates all activity inside the room for the last 30 days, twenty-four-seven. We've tagged seven staff people plus Captain Cranbury and you inside the containment area for the entire 30 days. We know the last inventory of the Second Safe was May 20 and a video was made of the contents, which included the now missing $200K. We're not clear whether the backpack with the money was put back into the SS. The archived inventory tape which we have not yet viewed, will tell us if the backpack made it back to the SS after inventory. Are you familiar with this inventory process?"

  "Incredible!"

  "What's that you're saying?"

  "Uh...does the Captain know you have this information? Have you spoken with him today?"

  "Yes, he's aware, we just finished a meeting with him not 10 minutes ago."

  "Jake, can you slow down a minute. Why don't you treat Jules and me to some salad? We can fill him in on more of what we know and where we want to go with this case, while we eat," I chuckled.

  "Uh, okay...can you eat, Detective?"

  We scurried to the counter where Jules and I got salads and Jake ordered two bacon-swiss double cheese burgers with a large fry. He topped it with a large vanilla milk shake and three chocolate-chip cookies. His amazing appetite, at times, would appear counterproductive. Yet, there are many, many days he feeds only on nuts and fruit. In some way it reminded me of Holmes alternating fits of energy and depression.

  We let Jules view some footage of the evidence room video, he was most attentive. I queried him about his family, which we already knew about, to see what further information he would volunteer. We wondered if he would mention his relationship with the Precinct janitor. He didn't.

  "This is amazing – it appears the video was taken from the security camera in the evidence room. How'd you do that?" Jones queried.

  Jake was now on his second burger. He had spread a napkin down on the table and emptied his fries on it. He pushed it toward Jules and began speaking in a slow, methodical manner.

  "It's our method, our way of doing things, you see? Clarice and I have other people who work with us, many are quite technical. They use, uh...how shall I say...'whatever resources available' to aid our efforts to solve a criminal event. They hack computer databases, they set on stakeouts, they interview people of interest, many times using, uh...persuasive technique."

  "I see," Jones whispered while nodding, pushing several fry's into his mouth.

  "You see Jules...our way is unimpeded from the formality of conventional organizations, with their rules and boundaries," I whispered back.

  "It seems Captain Cranbury was right in bringing you into the case, instead of Internal Affairs. What you do is amazing...and that should make things come to a head quicker than our routine."

  Jake jumped back into the conversation in-between slurps of his milkshake...

  "We have the identities of the seven individuals who were inside the evidence room. We know their work history since employed with the Detroit PD. We have even secured personal and medical data, along with identifying a few family members and friends of the seven individuals."

  Jules stared at Jake. Jake munched his burger and peered into his phone. Jules looked at me without saying a word. I wondered what his silence meant. Was he to tell us of his relation with the janitor or did he already know that we knew?

  "The janitor is my uncle."

  "You mean Leo Burris?" I murmured.

  "Yes."

  "Understand Detective Jones, we discovered this information, this connection, from our research," Jake whispered. "We reserve our opinions on anyone's criminal involvement in the case until we have further, convincing data. We felt it necessary to inform you that we knew of Mr. Burris' and your relationship. Is there any comment you wish to make at this time?"

  "No – no comment...but..."

  "But? Detective"

  "It's just that Leo said something in the past – he wondered if that's where the PD kept the cash and drugs, the valuable stuff. He wanted to know if the SS was used for that. He didn't know what was in there; he just wondered what was kept in that wire safe."

  "He told you this?"

  "My wife – he told my wife. Leo and my wife's dad are brothers."

  "I'm sure it's nothing. Leo's just inquisitive. I'm sure this event, this safe-cracking if you will, is surely beyond a 67 year old grandfather's capability. Don't give it another thought, Jules," as I patted the Detective's hand.

  We watched as Detective Jones crossed the McDonalds parking lot to the Precinct parking lot, and get in his unmarked police car. Jake had phoned Epic212 prior to our 1:00 PM meeting to have ready a 'tail' for Jones' movement after the meeting. What we didn't realize was that 212 had a friend, who had a friend, whose company manufactures some landing component for a UAV, or drone type vehicle...long story short, we were now viewing on our tablet Jones' black Ford sedan from 5,000 feet as it sped through the city streets of Detroit. And, we dug it!

  Jake and I had a bet on whether Jules would go to his own house and speak with his wife. Or, would he go directly to the Leo Burris' home, knowing Leo was not working today, hoping to catch him there. My bet was on the wife. I lost.

  Leo’s house was buried deeper into the maze of homes of inner-city Detroit, approximately twenty-five blocks from the Precinct Station. He caught the bus to and from his job at the Station House. His youngest daughter, sister to Jules' wife, lived with Leo, along with her 3 year old sick child. That made up the household as Leo's wife passed away five years ago.

  Jake knew of Leo's daughter and her young child, living in the house. He knew it from an email received from Epic22, the lady in the minivan with her kid in the back seat. It seemed Jake wanted 22 to 'set' on Leo's house and make note of the comings and goings of anyone who 'passed through the front door,' as Jake so humorously described it.

  The thing was 22 didn't become an Irregular team member doing things half-assed. She planted a wireless security camera catching anyone who 'passed through the back door,' too. While she viewed, and recorded, the front door, her wireless camera picked up any activity from the back door, displaying it on her tablet computer sitting beside her in the minivan. The techies love it when they get to use their gadgets.

  The back door camera became invaluable. At 12:18 PM., today, it captured the unique physique and round face of Jerome 'Junk Dog' White, a drug gang member and probable boyfriend of Theresa, Leo's daughter.

  Junk Dog was given his name from his short stature, yet muscular frame, depicting, I suppose, a pit bull type animal used to protect an automobile junk yard. White certainly met the criteria. Jake and I knew him from his association with a noted drug peddling gang, headed by a slick southerner from Mississippi, named Billy Jo Stackhouse.

  "Can't help but wonder Clarice if Leo knows White and his business. Are they friends? Or is White's visiting only a social call with Leo's daughter, perhaps without Burris' knowledge?"

  "Did 22 say whether she observed Leo being home when White arrived? He's not working today – was he inside the house or gone?"

  "We're only talking hours and minutes here since the tail was initiated...Burris could be in or out of the house and 22 may not know which. I'll text her to confirm any known physical location of Burris."

  It is commonplace for Jake and I to use cloud services when a stakeout or some other event requires instantan
eous communication from several team members. Clouding allows each to text to a common, singular document, a ledger if you will. We've set it up to show the date and time and the person who texts or types whatever it is their sending to the ledger. Not ten seconds from the time Jake said he would text Epic22 confirming the actual location of Burris, did her response appear on our screen. She said...

  "Leo left house @ 11:45 am. 212 w/bird have him still playing checkers backyard 4 houses south this location. See tag 'Leo' on bird screen"

  Jake and I both wondered about the coincidence of Leo's departure and Junk Dog's arrival thirty minutes later. No sooner had we received the info from 22, than 212 began reporting in with comments about house address specifics, relative to the Leo Burris home on the cloud ledger. We both viewed our screens observing Detective Jones' departing Uncle Leo's back porch, walking in the alleyway behind the house, headed south.

  "He's looking for Leo," I cajoled.

  "Duh," Jake responded.

  Oooooohhh! I thought. What is it with a man who never, ever, misses a chance to drive home the obvious, rebutting an utterance in this fashion, from me, from a woman? That 'Duh' response from Jake made me feel small, uninformed and insignificant. He knew of my displeasure with his trite, condescending quips, after my genuine, obliging statements to aid him...but here we are again. I mentally noted it for my records. He will pay. He will pay for this 'Duh' and for all the other instances he's made me feel less than precious. Men! I can see something real nasty happening to him, something huge, so he'll remember and wonder 'why me.' As a result of my payback he'll amend his future speech, re: sensitivities, so as to make them more caring, pleasant and accommodating. I love getting even; it makes me feel so powerful, so attorney-like.

 

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