SHADOW MAN - Angie Bartoni Case File #6 (ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILES Book 1)

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SHADOW MAN - Angie Bartoni Case File #6 (ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILES Book 1) Page 5

by Marshall Huffman


  “Do you have any idea how much protective custody would cost?”

  “Don’t have a clue. Not my department. What is my department is, keeping those three alive until we can catch whoever is doing this.”

  “Well Bartoni, everything is my department and keeping costs within the department budget is one of them.”

  “So we just let them get killed?”

  “I have a suggestion. Try doing your job and getting the bastard before he can strike again.”

  “Oh gee captain. Why didn’t I think of that? Dan? You should have reminded me it is our job to catch the bastard.”

  “Don’t get smart with me Bartoni.”

  “Well one of us has to be smart in this room. I know my job captain. What I don’t know is how I can be in three places at the same time. Whoever is doing this is like a shadow. I mean think about it, none of the Stillwell thugs were easy prey. They have all been around a long time and yet this...this person somehow grabs them and does away with them. Imagine how hard that is to accomplish,” I said, knowing I was walking a thin line.

  The captain sat there looking at me for several seconds. I knew he was trying to determine if I had gone too far.

  “I will give you four people. They can work from midnight until 6:00 a.m. After that they are off duty. You can have them for three days. Three days Bartoni. After that, it’s just you and Roberts again understood?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I’ll let Vickers, Cline, Fellows, and Garner know they are to meet with you. Be here at three o’clock. Now get out,” he said.

  “Thanks captain,” I said on the way out.

  “Just get the guy,” he said dismissing me.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Going to be some long days,” Dan said.

  He was right. We would have to look at potential suspects during the day and then do the stakeout at night. That sure didn’t leave much time for personal life or sleeping even.

  Wait. What personal life? There was Dr. Ben Warman but both of us were busy and that left little time for anything to develop. It wasn’t Ben’s fault really. I always seemed to be the one with the big case that took all of my time. He had sent flowers, called, and left messages but for some reason I just kept the wall up.

  What was my problem? Was I afraid of a serious relationship? It is hard being totally honest with yourself. If you dig too deep you may not like what you find so I just kind of put those kinds of questions on the back burner and buried myself in work.

  Maybe when this case was over I could sit down and take a long hard look at Angie Bartoni and figure out why I was such a jerk about being in a serious relationship. Ben was a doctor and I sure couldn’t use my standard excuse that I would never date a cop. It was my number one no-no.

  “Bartoni,” Dan said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Wow, you were zoned out. I said your name like three or four times.”

  “I was thinking about the case dweeb.”

  “Right. The captain wants to see us.”

  “We just talked to him a half hour ago.”

  “Well apparently he has something more on his mind.”

  “Not good. He has been thinking and that is dangerous,” I said.

  “Let’s go see.”

  I knocked and we entered the lion’s den again.

  “It occurred to me that we need to let the press know what’s going on. We have four murders in six days and they are writing crap like this,” he said tossing the paper on the desk.

  See, I told you he had been thinking. Now we were going to have to go out and bull our way through a press conference.

  “Captain. We don’t have squat to tell them. It would be a big waste of time.”

  “So you think we should just let them make up stuff? Did you read this morning’s paper?”

  “No. I never read the paper.”

  “Dan?” he asked.

  “No sir. I don’t like to read the stuff they write.”

  “Well you should. They are calling the perp the Shadow Man. It implies that what he is doing is justified. He is just someone who is getting rid of the trash and doing what is good for the community. You and I both know that something like that can cause serious repercussions. You need to explain how harmful that can be.”

  “Captain, they already know that. I can’t tell them anything new. We have done similar news conferences before about vigilantes. Has it helped? Not one little bit. If fact they usually do just the opposite. I think having a conference will be like adding fuel to the fire.”

  “I’m sorry Bartoni, did that sound like a suggestion? Dan did that sound like a suggestion to you?”

  “Sir.”

  “You know. A question. Did that sound like one?”

  “Not exactly sir,” Dan replied.

  I wanted to kick him but refrained.

  “So let me rephrase this for you Bartoni. You will hold a press conference and explain the error of their ways about glorifying the actions of this person.”

  “Oh come on captain. You don’t need to be condescending. I’ll do it but mark my words; all it will do is cause them to become even more creative with the facts. You know as well as I do it’s like telling a child not to do something. The more you tell them, the more they are tempted to do it. You damn well know all they are interested in is sensationalism.”

  “That may be true but we have to at least make an attempt to stop the glorification of this guy.”

  “Good luck with that,” I said as we left.

  **

  As ordered, Dan and I stood on the steps of the station house with the usual array of microphones and cameras pointed at us. We both had on our dress uniforms to make it appear more official. I seriously doubted that it impressed anyone.

  “I would like to read a brief statement first and then we will answer your questions,” I told them.

  I was waiting for some bozo to yell out a question before I even started but it didn’t happen. I guess there is a first time for everything.

  “As you know four members of the recently released Stillwell gang have been killed. This includes the ring leader, Bruno Stillwell. Each one has been taken and killed by whom the press is calling the Shadow Man. How you came up with this label is a mystery to the police department .

  What I can tell you is that this killer is no shadow. We will find him and he will face prosecution to the fullest extent of the law. These are premeditated murders of men that have served their time and have been legally released. No one has the right to stand above the law and take the life of another person as a private citizen. This person is nothing more than a vigilante and that makes them a murderer as well. Each of the Stillwell group has been horribly tortured before finally being killed. We will find the person or persons responsible. We will bring them to justice. They will be prosecuted.

  When you write stories glorifying the actions of this person all you are doing is encouraging others with grievances to act upon them. The media should never encourage violence as a means of vindication,” I told them.

  “Detective Roberts and I will take your questions now.”

  “Do you have any suspects?”

  “We do but this is an ongoing investigation so I can’t say whom.”

  “You actually have a name?”

  “We have more than one suspect at this point.”

  “What about the other three gang members?”

  “Detective Roberts?” I said.

  I wanted to get him involved. He never took questions and it would be good for his professional development.

  “We are currently looking at our options for the three of them.”

  “Do you have them in protective custody?”

  “No. Not at this time.”

  “Why not?”

  “It is just one option. We have others,” Dan told them.

  Way to go Dan. Good answer. I was proud of the way he was handling himself.

  “Isn’t this Shadow Man actuall
y doing the city a favor by getting rid of the trash?”

  Dan looked over at me. I didn’t move to the microphone so he was forced to answer the question.

  “A vigilante is always a dangerous person. Once we start encouraging that type of behavior we stand the chance of everyone who feels wronged seeking personal retribution. If you anger someone and they feel slighted they could decide to take matters into their own hands. Would you want someone coming after you because of an incident or story that irritated them? I doubt you would think it was such a good idea then,” Dan said.

  Way to go Dan. This was a double gold star day for my boy Dan.

  I let him handle the rest of the questions until they started to get silly and then I called an end to the conference.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Good job on the conference,” the captain said when we came back upstairs.

  “Dan handled most of it.”

  “I saw. Good answers Dan.”

  “Thank you captain.”

  “Listen Bartoni, I hate to ram something else down your throat but if we are going to be doing the stakeouts in three locations I am going to need you to replace your car.”

  “I know. I’ve just haven’t had time to look.”

  “You need to find time. I need the patrol car back asap.”

  “Alright. I’ll see what I can find.”

  He just nodded and walked off.

  My poor little TR6 and my house had both been blown up on my last case with a crazy bomber. I was renting a small place while I looked for a house but that wasn’t going very well either. I loved my TR6, quirks and all. Now I had to find something I liked as much as that little convertible. I knew that was going to be time consuming.

  I had tried the usual places, Ebay, Cars.com and Car Trader but most of the people that advertise their cars for sale there are either out of touch with reality or just plain crazy. Most think their little junker is worth twice as much as it really is.

  Was I going to be forced into buying a car that I wouldn't really enjoy? It was sure looking that way. I was getting pretty discouraged when the phone rang.

  “Bartoni.”

  “Hi Angie.”

  What the heck, it was Ben. I was just thinking about him more or less and out of the blue he calls. Too weird.

  “Hi Ben, how have you been?”

  “Good. Good. How about you? I see you are up to your eyeballs in another tough case.”

  “It’s getting pretty ugly. The press as usually isn’t helping.”

  “Of course not. Look I just called to say if you wanted to talk or anything, I would like that a lot.”

  “Ben I truly appreciate it but I have so much on my plate. I still have to find a car. Suddenly it has been placed on the front burner. I don’t have a house of my own yet and on top of that we are going to be going on stakeout duty.”

  “Maybe I can help.”

  “I honestly don’t see how. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the offer but I doubt you can help much at this point.”

  “What about the car situation?”

  “You know how I am about that. It has to be just the right thing.”

  “I have a friend who specializes in foreign cars. He has everything from Ferraris to Bug Eye Sprites. I can give you his website and you can look it over. I can negotiate the deal if you like.”

  “I guess looking wouldn’t hurt. What is the website?”

  Ben gave it to me and I put it in while he was still on the line. I have to say, I was impressed. He had a heck of an inventory. The problem would be finding something I really liked in my price range.

  “Let me look these over,” I told Ben.

  “Fine. Give me a call if you find something you are interested in. I know Gary really well so he will work with me on price.”

  “Thanks Ben. I know I’m a pain in the butt but it’s certainly not you. It is me. I’m as lousy at asking for help as I am at relationships.”

  “I’m a big boy. If it bothered me I would just walk away. I think you are worth the effort. Now, look the cars over and let me know if you find something you like.”

  After Ben hung up I started going through the inventory. I found at least five cars that I could certainly live with. The price would be a definite factor.

  **

  At three o’clock we met with Vickers, Cline, Fellows, and Garner. While I had been dreading it to some extent, everything went exceedingly well. We decided that Vickers and Cline would watch Tom James. Fellows and Garner would take Sid Peters leaving Pete Sanders to Dan and me.

  We decided we would be in place by midnight and break it off around 5:00 a.m. If nothing had happened during that time, it wasn’t going to happen.

  The biggest debate was whether we should tell the scumbags we were watching them or not. It was pretty evenly divided. Some of us were afraid if we told them we were watching them they would bolt and go to ground. Others thought they should know that we were out there trying to protect them and get the guy doing this.

  I could see both sides of it. If they bolted and went to ground it would make it easier on us. If we couldn’t find them then neither could the guy doing this. If they knew we were watching out for them they could get careless and get snatched before we could help. It was not an easy call.

  “Hey, we're just here to help. You make the call Bartoni,” Garner said after we had exhausted the possibilities.

  “Let’s just go with the surveillance, at least for now. We know where they live so keeping an eye on them shouldn’t be too difficult.”

  “If we screw this up and the guy gets to one of them it will not look good. The papers will crucify us,” Fellows said.

  I hated to admit it but he was right. Even considering that risk, I still felt my decision was the best one.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The first shift was a complete bust. All we saw were the dregs of society traipsing through the night. Drunks, addicts, and prostitutes put on their usual night time shows.

  When we met to debrief at breakfast we all felt unclean.

  “Man, what a show of decadent humanity,” Fellows lamented.

  “I knew the city had its fair share of hookers but I didn’t realize how many,” Vickers added.

  “I thought you knew them all by name,” Cline chimed in.

  “Just the good looking ones. Not the skaggs we saw last night,” he replied.

  “Well at least no one was abducted last night. Do you think there was any possibility he could have made any of us?”

  “I can’t speak for you guys but we were certainly clean. We used my wife’s minivan,” Cline told us.

  “I would say that is safe. We used Dan’s Camaro so we were pretty nondescript.

  “We were in a white SUV, not a police vehicle. Vickers borrowed it from his brother.”

  “Okay, that’s good. We can get away with that for another day but after that we will need to either swap vehicles or use different ones.”

  “Hey, we will trade the minivan for the Camaro any day,” Cline spoke up.

  “You might think it’s a good trade but you can’t get comfortable in the damn thing,” I said.

  “Bull. It’s very comfortable,” Dan replied.

  I decided it wasn’t worth hurting his feelings over. Men get that way when you criticize their cars. It’s one of those testosterone things I think.

  “So same plan tomorrow,” I said as I paid the bill for our breakfast.

  It’s not that I am a big spender but these guys were working long hours and they were doing it to help me so a breakfast seemed in order.

  **

  After a few lousy hours of sleep I took a shower, washed my hair and assessed the wrinkles at the corners of my eyes. Not good Bartoni. I need to get some of that anti-wrinkle cream. Maybe a 55 gallon drum would help.

  Dan drove up while I was drinking my Diet Coke and eating a pop-tart for breakfast. I was out the door before he could even get out of the car.

  “Y
ou seem vigorous this morning,” he said, looking like something the cat’s dragged in.

  “I have a lot of crap to do today. The captain wants the patrol car back by the weekend. I still don’t have a clue as to what I want.”

  “Just get anything for now. You can always trade it in later.”

  “Not my style. I get attached to my cars and don’t like letting them go. Some people have kids or pets. I have my car.”

  “Man and I thought I was messed up,” was all Dan said. “So where to?”

  “Let’s go talk to Fisk. After that we will drop in on Jakes,” I told him while putting the addresses in the GPS.

  Fisk lived in a beautiful house that was at least forty-five hundred square feet with a three car garage and a huge pool. Obviously he was a high roller. I doubt he would take the risk associated with revenge but you just never know about people.

  I rang the doorbell and heard it playing out some tune I should recognize but couldn’t put my finger on. A teenage girl in practically nothing opened the door.

  “Yeah?” she said.

  “Detectives Bartoni and Roberts. I need to speak with your father.”

  “He ain’t home.”

  “He isn’t home,” I corrected.

  Zoom, right over her head.

  “When do you expect him?”

  “Don’t know. When he gets back I guess,” she sarcastically answered.

  “Huh. Dan, what do you think? Does she sound like a smart mouth teenager to you? Why don’t we take her down to the detention center and let her spend the night. We can hold her on failure to cooperate in a murder investigation.”

  “I think that is an excellent idea,” Dan agreed.

  “You can’t do that. I ain’t done nothing wrong.”

  “See, there is that grammar again. I ain’t done nothing wrong means you have done something wrong. Taking you in is probably the best thing we can do,” I said.

  “What’s going on here?” a voice said from inside the house.

  “Is that you Mr. Fisk?”

  “Yes. What are you doing with my daughter?”

  “Well that depends. How long have you been here?”

 

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