by Jim Magwood
them to come back, then finish number nine. Is that okay? Do
you understand?”
“I understand. I wait, then finish the job. Okay?” “That’s right. Now, how are you feeling?”
“I feeling okay. Fine.”
“Okay. Are you having enough to eat?”
“You brung me enough. I eating good. Thank you for
taking care of me.”
“Good. Then for now you go to bed and get a good sleep.
Will that be okay?”
“That’s okay. Good bye.” And the phone cut off. The man on the other end thought, Man, I hope he never
remembers any of this. He’s too dangerous to even be alive.
Certainly too dangerous to be keeping track of this stuff.
Paul was walking back into the bullpen from a short lunch when Jake swung out of the door and grabbed his arm, pulling him down the hall.
“Come on, we got another one. School on fire over at 3500 R Street in the northwest. Ellington School, I think they said.”
“That’s over Foggy Bottom way, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. A senior high school, but it’s a public school, not private.”
They ran down the hall and Jake tore into the fire escape stairs, not bothering a moment for the elevator. They were down in the garage before Paul got another word in.
“When did the call come in?”
“Just now. Trucks are arriving probably right now. They think the kids all got out, but the building is a torch supposedly. Cars are already on their way or maybe already there, but we’ll be right behind them. Maybe get to see something.”
Jake had floored the Crown Vic and they screamed out of the garage, roared up Indiana, then New York, and finally raced up Massachusetts Avenue. They went around Dupont Circle and then finally up Wisconsin to R Street and continued racing to the school. The fire trucks had already arrived and had hoses out from several locations. The school appeared to be one large campus building and it looked to have flames and heavy smoke coming from the west side and through the roof.
Jake’s first statement was, “How’d he get the fire started? How’d he get in and carry the stuff and get it started? It’s a school day and it’s full of people.”
“It looks like they got the kids out there on the front lawn. Fire looks to be around the back, so try to get over there. Maybe by that field in back.”
The school sat on the corner of the intersection. Fire trucks were parked on the streets around the building and Paul saw more turn into a small street or alley at the back of the building. Most of the action was concentrated on the side and the back of the main building, and Paul saw a couple of trucks had ladders extended to the roof already. There weren’t a lot of flames raging; mostly heavy black smoke.
As they got around the back, they saw another crowd of students gathered out on the open field about one hundred yards from the buildings. They all appeared quiet and controlled, so Paul thought they were probably safe and being well cared for.
Police cars had already arrived and were spotting at several locations around the campus. Jake said, “We need to get on Dispatch and tell these guys to look out for any strange looking people. Also to watch out for weapons. There was that shooting at the first fire, remember?”
“Yeah, I’m the one that was there and led the search. It likely came from an apartment building across a park from the school, so we should be looking for a rifle, most likely.”
They got on the radio to Central Dispatch and made everyone aware of what to look for, then walked as close as they could to the back of the building where it looked like a Battalion Chief was directing the activities. As he got off his radio for a moment, Paul said, “We’re detectives assigned to these fires, Chief. Anything you can tell us at this point?”
The Chief quickly scanned the badges they showed, then replied, “Looks like it started in the southeast corner over there, and possibly inside about three or four rooms down a hall. We’re told there’s a couple of janitor closets down that way, plus a good size storage room for general teaching supplies and books. Also a break room for staff. Some bathrooms. It appears the classrooms weren’t in use. Weren’t needed, so nobody was around them. Might have been a lot of stuff stored in them, we’re not sure yet.
“With all the black and heavy smoke, we think there might have been some oil products or chemicals being stored. Smells like maybe tar products. Haven’t confirmed whether there was any construction going on or not, but this smoke isn’t just from wood and stuff. Looks more like tar, maybe roofing materials, stuff like that. We got here fast and it appears to be a slow fire, so we might have a chance of getting this thing down pretty quick. Hold on…” He turned back to his radio to respond to questions and direct the response crews.
As the Chief turned back to them, Jake quickly asked, “Any people around, Chief? Suspects? Anybody weird looking? We’re maybe looking for a loony. Might look like one, too. Also, weapons? Shots?”
“No, nothing like that. Let me broadcast that to my people so they can be watching.” He turned back to the radio and let his people know what to be looking for. The crews were all trained to keep an eye out at any fires for signs of arsonists and suspicious looking people, but any more identification signs, and the need to be on the lookout for weapons, simply made them more perceptive and kept them safer.
Paul and Jake were starting to walk away when the Chief called to them. “Guys, I just got a report of a roofing company truck parked over there around the side. Somebody just told us that there was supposedly some roofing to take place soon, but nobody knows anything more about it. Appears to still be loaded with some roof tar and paper. You might want to take a look, but be sure to let our guys look things over first. Our arson guys might get a lead from something.”
“Thanks, Chief. We’ll take a look.”
Both men walked around the corner of the building and over to the truck parked about twenty yards down the side. ‘Sunnyside Roofing,’ the signs on the truck said, but Paul watched Jake hook a fingernail under one of the signs and easily lift part of the magnetized sign off the truck.
“Magnetic, stick-on, no phone or address. Brand new, too. Better call in and see if there really is a Sunnyside Roofing. My guess is it’s bogus.”
They looked in the back of the truck and counted several rolls of roofing paper and a couple of rounds of tar still there, but nothing else. A quick glance inside the cab revealed nothing of immediate interest. They both noticed the truck was parked only a few feet from a door into the school and decided that the arsonist likely did use this truck and that door. Paul was already on the radio to have Dispatch get some calls made on the roofing company possibility.
CHAPTER 22
Jake and Paul returned to the scene the next morning ready to dig deeper for anything they could find. They had spent an initial four hours with the fire crews, then left to follow up on the roofing company and other possible leads. Nothing. No roofing company by that name. No lead on the license number of the truck; stolen days earlier. No fingerprints.
The regular patrol crews had done the initial neighborhood canvassing but with no results. Nothing to even followup on. Someone had seen the roofing truck as it pulled into the neighborhood, but had no description of the driver or anyone else. “Just looked like some workers going to the job. Didn’t even see if there was more than the driver.”
Jake and Paul were able to get into the area where the fire had been started. The fire chief had already confirmed it was definitely an arson job. They had actually been very lucky to have gotten a crew there within the first few minutes and able to get in front of the fire before it got totally out of hand. The fire had been dirty and half the building would be out of commission for some weeks of cleanup, but they had saved it, at least.
The men had borrowed some turnout gear from the fire crews still on hand and carefully worked their way through the part of the building where the fire had started hoping for
anything they could use, but they found nothing. Water, ashes, burnt wood, broken glass, parts of ceilings that had come down. Nothing usable. The truck had been towed the night before and initial reports showed nothing usable from it. Just nothing. Again.
They finished their tour in a couple of hours and had just stripped off and returned the turnout gear when a large, obviously important limousine turned into the lot beside their car.
“Put on your very impressed face, partner,” Jake said. “We have us a real live dignitary arriving. Comin’ down here to get his points in.”
Paul replied, “Sure enough. Looks like he’s going to get his picture taken, too. News van right behind him. I was gonna say lets get out of here quick, but I think they’ve seen us.”
The dignitary waited in the car until he saw the news people were set up, then exited and walked briskly over to the two officers. Put out his hand to shake while he put his other hand on Jake’s shoulder in a friendly, or commiserating, way. He had no idea how much effort it took for Jake, standing a foot taller, to keep from jerking away.
“Gentlemen, I gather you’re the officers in charge here. I’m Councilman Tom Jessen and I wanted you to know how much I appreciate what you’ve been doing for us. Have you found anything of value yet?” He was careful to put himself beside Jake so the camera could see his face and the deep concern he was showing for the situation.
Jake put on his best concerned face as he replied, in a deep, gravely voice, “No, sir, there’s just not much to be found yet. But, we’re still searching through everything. It’ll take some time, though.”
Jessen started to pull his hand away from Jake and move toward Paul for another photo shot. Jake kept just enough of a grip on Jessen’s hand, though, that the councilman was held a little off balance and staggered just a bit in the camera’s glare. He looked down at Jake’s paw quickly as if to say, What…?, then Jake casually let go and Jessen whipped around to Paul just as Paul stepped out of range and turned his head back to the building. A quick shot of anger passed over Jessen’s face before he got it under control and forced a smile.
He stood there for several moments trying to make conversation with anyone who would give him an ear, then finally walked briskly back to the waiting car. It hadn’t apparently been a very good photo session.
Paul took a side step and turned back to catch a final look just as Jessen got to the car and started to step into the back. He heard the hiss as something went past him and in the same moment saw Jessen jerk forward and slam into the side of the car, then whip his hand around to the small of his back as he bounced back off the car and started to crumble. At almost the same instant, they all heard the loud crack of the bullet as the sound caught up to it and everyone was diving for cover. Paul and Jake seemed to immediately bounce back off the ground as their training caught up to their shock and they were at Jessen’s side within a few seconds. They grabbed him off the ground and pulled him around the car to the other side, then laid him down again.
Jake barked, “You check him. I’ll see what’s out there.” He had already calculated a rough trajectory of the shot from where Jessen had been hit and jumped to the corner of the building a few feet away where the shooter probably couldn’t see him. He had his weapon out as he carefully stuck his head around the corner to scan the street and buildings across from them. Nothing moving. The shadows from the trees were covering much of the area. He saw a couple of people stepping outside as they began to realize they might have heard something.
Paul had immediately radioed in for paramedics and backup, and they could hear the sirens already beginning to sound. He then started to find out how badly Jessen had been hurt. Jessen’s driver fell out of the car door at that moment and Paul thought for an instant that he had also been shot but then he saw the fear and shaking and realized the man was just getting out of the way of any other rounds.
Paul had just enough light under a near tree to see the spreading wetness on the front of Jessen’s shirt and realized the shot was a through-and-through, back to front. Fairly low, just above the hip line and below the ribs, and about three or four inches in from the right side. Blood was flowing at a steady rate but Jessen was still breathing. Paul grabbed for a pulse and found it weak. He tilted Jessen up on his side and ripped his coat and shirt out of the way. Saw the relatively small entrance hole in his back seeping blood, at least not gushing. He turned him onto his back again and pulled the shirt out of the assemblyman’s pants to see the exit hole. Definitely gushing here, he thought. The exit wound wasn’t terribly large, so he figured it wasn’t any kind of expanding bullet, or that it hadn’t come from a huge weapon, but it was definitely releasing a lot of blood. He knew the man was likely already in shock from the attack and there were lots of organs in the immediate area that could have been affected.
“Jake,” he shouted. “You see anything. We’ve gotta get him out of here fast.”
“No, nothing’s moving. Couple of people have come out on the street, but I don’t see them reacting to anything. I don’t think he’ll do anything more with people around. I’m gonna head out to the front corner of the school here and direct the troops back here. You keep him under control?”
“Yeah, but get on the radio and tell them to hurry. I’m trying to put pressure on the wound, but it’s pretty good size and bleeding hard.”
“Okay, hang on. They’ll be here in a minute.”
Paul could hear Jake on the radio a moment later putting a rush on the medics and it was only a few seconds later that he heard a vehicle screeching to a stop out front. A second later he heard it roar out again and he figured Jake had directed the first backup car to head down the block to try to spot the gunman. The next vehicle he heard slow down fast and then make a squealing turn down the alley beside the school and in another couple of seconds it slid to a stop beside him. The siren cut off and the paramedics jumped out, grabbed their supplies and were with him in seconds.
Paul spoke to the young lady as she dropped down beside him. “Gunshot wound. Back to front, in and out, just above the hip, right side. Bleeding pretty heavy at the front, not much behind. Pulse is shallow. He appears to be out cold, but I haven’t had time to check him any further. I’ve got pressure on the exit wound. My partner thinks the shooter might be gone already, so you’re probably okay. Keep down, though, until we can clear the area some more.”
“Okay,” she said as she edged in beside him. “Let me get at him.”
Paul carefully moved his hand away from the wound and slid away. The other paramedic dropped down on Jessen’s other side and the two began their work. Paul stood carefully, then looked at the blood all over his hands and asked, “You got a towel or something?”
The second medic said, “Here,” and tossed Paul a bottle of antiseptic rinse and a wad of compresses to wash off with. When his hands were clean again, Paul dropped the supplies beside the trio and began to jog up to the front of the school to find Jake. Three more backup cars were pulling up when he got to the front curb and he saw Jake directing them out into the neighborhood to seal it off. Paul gave Jake a little “Hey” as he came up behind him and Jake turned and walked to him.
“Anything?” Paul asked.
“No, I think he’s gone, but the troops are spreading out and looking. How’s the vic?”
“He’s alive. Maybe not hurt too bad, but the medics have him now. Wound to the lower right back, out the front. Looks like a pretty flat trajectory, so he may have lucked out with no major organs hurt. Lots of bleeding, though, so I don’t know for sure.”
Within about ten minutes, the paramedics took off with Jessen. The troops were still out in the neighborhood, but no reports of seeing anything were coming in. Jake and Paul stayed in the area supervising the basic investigation for about two more hours, then headed to the hospital to check on Jessen. He had survived, but was down and out for the night anyway, so they headed back to the station to start writing up reports. The limo had been towed and the bu
llet had already been found just lying on the back floor. Forensics was already saying it was likely a .300 Winchester Magnum which was a type commonly used in sniper rifles.
Paul made a quick call and found out that the slug was being tentatively matched with the one that got the newsman a month back at the school fire. The thought from both the men was who in the world was using an apparent military sniper rifle in downtown Washington, D.C. to knock off people who were in attendance at the school fires? Were the events actually related, or just opportunistic?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The sniper had watched the whole scene from his secluded shelter inside a partially closed garage. The house was quiet behind him, the tenants out to dinner or something. He had easily jimmied through the side door, then raised the car door enough to do the job and watch the results. The cops had come by trying to look into the slightly open door, but he had jammed a kid’s ball bat into the door springs and the door had shook a little but remained closed. The cops tried to look under the door and in the side window, but left when they couldn’t see anything out of place.
When everything got quiet, he took the bat out of the springs and closed the door, then carefully went back out the side door, through the back yard to the alley and out to the street. No one saw him as he walked down the shaded street.
CHAPTER 23
Paul was sitting at his desk with the growing pile of reports before him, trying to think of some handle to get hold of on the cases they were working. The fires: Why? That was the question. They just didn’t seem to be random. The shootings: A senator, a newsman, the councilman? But what tied them together? And the overall political aspects of the cases: A threat against the president, the senator and again, the councilman? They were all too diverse, yet something kept nagging at him that they were related. But no thread came to him, no handle to grab. Just that back-of-the-mind thought that they were related.
As he sat there, a thought came to the front of his mind. The prisoner he and Jake had talked to. He seemed to imply something about the events. The thought kept growing until Paul picked up the phone and called down to Detention.