Purge on the Potomac

by Roberts, David Thomas;

  “Mr. Younger, this plane crash is under federal jurisdiction,” insisted Jarvis.

  Pops stared at Jarvis and asked, “Where did that there plane crash?”

  A little confused by the obvious answer, Jarvis replied, “Just south of Selma, Texas, sir, but you know that.”

  “And who was on that plane, son?” asked Pops.

  “The governor, lieutenant governor, a flight attendant and two pilots.”

  “Governor and lieutenant governor of…?” Pops prompted.

  “Well, Texas, sir,” came the bewildered reply.

  Pops then glared at Jarvis. “There’s a recurring theme here, seems to me. That recurring theme is Texas.” Pops stood up from the uncomfortable wooden chair he was sitting in, and placed his hat on his head as he appeared ready to leave.

  “Sir…”

  “That’s a Texas governor, a State of Texas aircraft, and a crash site in Texas. Now you boys and gals can argue with me ’til the cows come home, but I’m tellin’ y’all here and now that the Texas Rangers will be part of this investigation until you can identify the exact reason that plane went down and when you have convinced me. Now, you are burnin’ daylight. Let’s git on with this!” said Pops, never giving them the chance to argue about it.

  An hour later, several family members came into Austin Police headquarters for the crash investigation team to take their statements. For the NTSB, their first impressions, based on air traffic control conversations and initial review of the flight data safety recorder, pointed to the crash being either a mechanical failure or pilot error.

  To Pops, the FBI seemed somewhat indifferent and they weren’t going to add a ton of resources to this investigation unless the NTSB turned up something concrete that linked the crash to foul play or the interview of the mechanic’s family shed some new light on the coincidental double-murder suicide the day of the crash.

  Pops sat in interviews with five family members of the mechanic. Three were siblings and the other two were in-laws. Pops let the FBI conduct the interviews.

  Throughout the interviews, Pops did not hear anyone mention or claim that mechanic Endio Hernandez was anything but a good husband and father with no symptoms of depression or mental illness whatsoever. There was simply no hint at what caused him to murder his wife and child.

  Pops kept looking at the suicide note, which read:

  “I am so sorry the failures of my work on the governor’s aircraft caused it to crash. I am so ashamed that I have brought this disgrace to my family and my family name. The pain is too great for us to endure.” - Endio Hernandez

  Something wasn’t right about the note, but Pops couldn’t figure it out.

  “Did this go to your handwriting analysis experts?” Pops asked the FBI investigator.

  “We have some other samples of his writing we took from the apartment,” the man told him. “From my perspective, it’s legitimately his writing.”

  “Son, you didn’t answer my question,” noted Pops.

  “No, we haven’t. But, if you would like me to, I will,” the man answered.

  “If you don’t mind, son, I’ve got a local expert on this kinda thing right here a couple miles away at the University of Texas.”

  “We have our own people, Mr. Younger; this would have to go to FBI headquarters.”

  “And how long would those boys up there in D.C. take to get a good gander at this?” Pops held it up in its plastic evidence sleeve.

  “Probably a few weeks.”

  “I’ll tell ya, I ain’t willing to wait that long and, besides, I trust my guy down here as he has helped me solve many cases over the years.” Pops opened his briefcase, tossed the documents in, and shut it.

  “Sir, I’m sorry, but that evidence has to remain with the FBI,” the agent protested.

  “Well, son, I’ll have it back to you in a day or two, then you can send it to those boys in D.C.” Pops seemed completely indifferent to the investigator’s claim to the evidence.

  “…and besides, you folks don’t think there is any direct evidence that changes your mind about whether this was an accident or not,” added Pops.

  “Mr. Younger, I know we are in Texas and you and your state leadership think everything is a conspiracy to somehow punish Texas, but the FBI has rules. And those rules state that letter and those other handwritten items from Hernandez are evidence that will remain in the hands of the FBI and are not leaving this room.”

  Pops chuckled. “Ya wanna arm wrestle for it?”

  “Seriously, Mr. Younger, my job and my department is at stake if I let that evidence leave the room.”

  “Well, sonny, you might just want to find another line of work then.”

  “Mr. Younger, I’d like to remind you there is still an active federal warrant for your arrest. We haven’t forgotten about the federal agents killed down here. It’s by the grace of God and President Bartlett that you’re not in handcuffs this very minute.”

  Suddenly, the room got intense. Three FBI agents and two Texas Rangers were in the room. The stenographer who was recording the interviews hurriedly stepped outside.

  Pops walked his six-foot, two-inch frame up and stood directly in front of the five-foot, nine-inch FBI investigator. “I’ll tell you what, boy. I’m gonna take this here suicide note and those samples and walk them over to the university myself, with these two fine Rangers escorting me and the evidence,” Pops said without the blink of an eye.

  A few moments of dead silence fell on the room. Pops reached over on the table and picked up the coffee cup the lead investigator was drinking from. He spit tobacco juice in it and then sat it right back down in the same place.

  “Now,” he said, “if you ain’t gonna try and arrest me, then get the hell outta the way so we can do our jobs!” Pops focused his deadly, steel-blue eyes on the investigator without so much as blinking.

  The investigator tried to swallow his own saliva but didn’t realize his mouth and throat had become dry. He coughed meekly and moved to the side so Pops and the Rangers could exit the room with the evidence.

  “Didn’t think so,” said Pops to the FBI agents in the room as he and the Rangers departed.

  In the hall outside the interrogation room, a small crowd gathered as word got out that Pops and the feds were getting sideways on the crash investigation. About a dozen police officers and administrators of the Austin PD got to see Pops get in the lead investigator’s face and leave with evidence the FBI insisted they should keep.

  It was another story to add to the many legends of Pops already making their way through the police department. Pops had defied the feds… again.

    

  Within four hours after Pops and his Rangers delivered the handwriting samples and the suicide letter to the University of Texas professor, they received word to come back to the archaeology department. Pops and his team wasted no time taking the short drive back to the University of Texas.

  Professor James Buckley, PhD, was a world-renowned handwriting expert, weighing in on historical documents especially important to history. If someone was trying to buy or sell a document, for instance, by George Washington, having Professor Buckley make a definitive certification on the document’s authenticity would typically make a huge difference in the value. Buckley was summoned all over the world for his expert testimony in both criminal and civil cases when a handwriting expert was needed.

  “Thank you for taking a look at this so quickly. Whatya think, Professor? Is it authentic?” asked Pops.

  “From everything I’ve examined, it’s definitely the same handwriting. I would testify in a court of law that the same person wrote the samples and the suicide note,” claimed the professor.

  “Then that would blow away any theory that someone else wrote the note, wouldn’t it?” asked one of Pops’ Rangers.

  Before Pops could answer, the professor chimed in, “Yes, but I’ve noticed something else.”

  “What’s that?” asked Pops, pulling his
chair closer to the table with all the documents spread out.

  “Look at the angles of the writing in the suicide note compared to the other handwriting examples,” the professor suggested.

  “Okay, not sure what I’m looking for.”

  “The angle of the cursive writing on the suicide note is directly opposite of the angles of the other samples. See here.” The professor compared the note with the other documents. “There are other subtle details in the note. Some letters are not completely finished, as you see in the other examples. Also, there is some of what we call slashing, wherein the letters of words are carried beyond the normal shape, size and alignment of what we see in all of these other examples,” the professor added.

  “What does that tell you, Professor? You’re saying this is his handwriting, but what does this slashing mean?

  “First, when we see this type of difference, it could mean a few different things. It could mean the author of the suicide note was in an awkward position while writing. Think of when you have put a piece a paper up on the wall to sign something when you have nowhere else to get a surface to sign it on.”

  “Okay,” Pops said. “What else?”

  “That might explain the difference in the angle of the writing, but it wouldn’t necessarily explain the slashing. What we have seen is that a handwriting example like this has a tremendous amount of stress or duress associated with it.”

  “Stress or duress? This boy was about to kill his own wife and kid, then commit suicide, if you believe the crime scene. If he already had made that decision, wouldn’t he be a little stressed by that?” Pops wondered out loud.

  “He would, I’m sure,” the professor agreed. “But, in the thousands of suicide notes I have seen in my career, by far the majority of them are written very calmly if they weren’t under the influence of a narcotic. I’ve heard countless relatives even claim a note wasn’t their loved one’s handwriting because, in many cases, the handwriting was better than the person had ever written in his or her life.”

  “Could he have written it after he killed his wife and kid? Surely that would have stressed him?” asked another Ranger.

  “That’s a possibility. But what convinces me he didn’t write the letter after he killed them is that he didn’t specifically mention them in the letter, nor did he express his regrets for what he had just done,” instructed the professor.

  “Is that what you see in these cases?” asked Pops.

  “Yes, so this suicide letter is not typical in my experience when you have a double murder of your immediate family, then a suicide,” advised the professor.

  “Could it mean someone could have made him write the note?” asked Pops.

  “Certainly. That would account for the anomalies I see in his note compared to the provided examples,” answered the professor.

  “What are you thinking here, Pops?” asked one of the Rangers.

  “I’ve talked to those family members,” Pops stated. “Not a one of them thought this kid had a screw loose. This kid had put himself through aviation school, and his family said he adored that child.”

  “We’ve also interviewed his co-workers. There’s nothing there, either. They all said he was a stand-up guy,” said one of the other Rangers. “He also isn’t the only aircraft mechanic who touched that plane. There’s six more people that routinely touched it, including at least two more that worked the plane after he did. The NTSB is poring over the maintenance logs”

  “I hope this was helpful,” said the professor.

  “It was, and we owe you a big thank you,” answered Pops.

  “Not a problem. But, off the record, Mr. Younger, I get the sense you think there is something else in play here,” said the inquisitive professor.

  “Let’s just say I got a hunch. It’s like we are seeing some smoke signals over the horizon and we ain’t figured out what they mean,” said Pops.

  Just then, one of the Rangers stepped out to take an urgent call for Pops.

  The remaining participants made a little small talk for a couple of minutes before the Ranger stepped back in.

  “Excuse me, sir, I think you might want to take this.”

  Pops got up and stepped out of the room. “Younger here.”

  “Sir, this is Ranger Tyler down at the state aviation hangar. We have been reviewing all the security tapes and you aren’t going to believe what we found!”

  “What ya got?” Pops asked.

  “We have a maintenance man on camera the morning of the flight that nobody can identify. He’s dressed the part. Here’s the crazy part. He matches the description of State Senator Milsap’s killer to a tee,” Ranger Tyler claimed.

  “Was that the only day this unidentified figure was at the hangar?” Pops was curious.

  “We went back two days prior to the flight and haven’t seen him on any other videos yet. These videos re-loop every seventy-two hours so, if he’s not on them, we won’t know if he was ever there before. We’ve interviewed almost everyone; some say they saw him but thought he was a contractor.”

  “Did anyone speak with him at any time?” asked Pops.

  “We have one and only one so far who talked to him when he asked for a rivet gun,” said Ranger Tyler. “And get this; he said he had an accent―a Russian accent.”

  Chapter 41

  “And they are ignorant that the purpose of the sword is to save every man from slavery.”

  - Marcus Annaeus Lucanus (A.D. 39-65)

  Roman Poet

  Zach Turner’s cell phone rang as he was driving his jacked-up pickup truck down an asphalt-paved farm road near the Bunker. When he glanced at caller ID, he noticed it was Pops. “Turner,” he answered.

  “Pops here,” came the voice over the phone.

  “Any news, sir?” asked Zach.

  “We’ve got security video from the state aviation hangar,” Pops told him. “We have a figure on tape that nobody who works at the state aviation hangar can positively identify.”

  “What’s he look like?” asked Zach.

  “This character is wearing a ball cap. There’s not much to distinguish him except that nobody had ever seen him there before, and it’s the only tape we have of him. He was there the day of the crash.”

  “Whoa, that’s interesting. How can I help?” asked Zach.

  “Need you to look at the tape right away,” Pops told him.

  “You think I may be able to help identify this guy?” asked Zach, a little confused why Pops would think he might be able to help by looking at the tape.

  “That morning, this turkey talked to a fellow mechanic and borrowed a tool.”

  “What kind of tool?” Zach asked.

  “A rivet gun.”

  “Hmm… okay, that’s interesting.” Zach thought for a minute. “You have a guy that doesn’t belong there. Pardon me for asking, Pops, but how is it you think I might be able to help you in the identification of this mechanic?”

  “His co-worker, who had never met him or seen him before, said he spoke with a Russian accent.”

  It took a few seconds for Pops’ last statement to sink in with Zach. “Russian? He’s sure it was Russian?”

  “Well, he ain’t no linguistics expert, but he said he sounded Russian. He also said he guessed this turkey was bald under his ball cap.”

  “Damn! Really?” Now Zach was really excited.

  “When can you high-tail it on over here?” Pops asked him.

  “I’ll come now. I’ve got someone who may be able to help us,” Zach told Pops. “The problem is, he’s in D.C. on assignment for me but, if we can video conference him in, we can have him look at the tape.”

  “Sounds like a plan, son. Appreciate your help.”

  “No worries, Pops. Come to your ranch?” Zach asked.

  “No, sir, we will meet you at Austin Police Department headquarters.” Pops went on to give Zach further details about the location of the meeting.

  Three hours later, Pops, several Texas Range
rs, Turner, Beard and Turnbow were in an interrogation room in downtown Austin police headquarters.

  “Shut them blinds,” Pops instructed one of his Rangers. He didn’t want anyone seeing the video they were about to put up on the big screen in the conference room. “And lock the door, too, but wait till this young man leaves to do something more important than show an old fart how to hook this technology up.”

  “Sir, I’ve got the video conference all linked up and ready. Just call me back in if you need further assistance,” said the young IT administrator employed by the city of Austin.

  Within a few minutes, a link appeared on the big screen. Everyone was expecting to see an image from Washington, D.C. of the mystery man who was joining the live video conference. Everyone could see that he was online, but he blocked the web camera on his laptop.

  “My operative in D.C. will be incognito for this meeting, gentlemen. I hope you understand,” stated Zach.

  Pops looked at him, a crooked grin on his face. “I love all this cloak-and-dagger crap y’all bring to the table. Never can be too careful when you got the feds staring right down your unmentionables.” Everyone chuckled at Pops’ humor.

  Zach introduced everyone in the room before mentioning the D.C. operative. “Gentlemen, I would introduce this fine gentlemen in D.C. by name if I could. All I can tell you is he’s highly placed in international and national security operations. He is here to tell us if he can identify this unknown actor in the aviation hangar video. I can vouch for him personally, as can these other men.” Zach nodded toward Beard and Will.

  “Okay, we have less than four minutes of total footage of this unknown mechanic,” said Texas Ranger Commander Dyson, who was leading the walk-through of the security tapes. “Here he is walking from the locker room to the hangar floor. Notice he has on the contractor overalls and a cap.”