To Probe A Beating Heart

by Wren, John B

  “Sean, I know this is not going to be easy, but I really do understand.”

  “I’m with you Jim.” his voice trailed off as if he wanted to say something else.

  “What, what is it?”

  “Well, no, nothing, I am pissed and feel like a drink. Wanna’ stop and have one after I get my paperwork done?”

  “Margo and I have something on tonight, and she wouldn’t appreciate my hanging around a pub drinking when I should be home,” said Jim.

  “Yeah, okay, hey why don’t you guys come over to the house this weekend and we will burn a coupla’ steaks and have a drink then.”

  “Works for me, I’ll check with Margo and you clear it on your end.” Jim went back and did his last batch of paper work, said good night to his comrades and left the building. As he walked home, every other step was accompanied with another four letter statement of frustration.

  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  Do you know this Aaron . . .

  That week end, Jim and Margo went to Sean’s house and they charcoal broiled steaks, drank a few beers and told some stories. Neither Sean nor Jim was pleased with the situation and they let out the pent up frustration by splitting fire wood from Sean’s wood pile. After a few beers each, a couple of nicely done steaks and stacking about a half of a cord of fire wood, they were both ready for a good night’s sleep.

  Sean took Jim aside and said, “We have to talk about the family.” The two went into the den and closed the door. Jim sat in an easy chair and Sean pulled a foot stool close and sat facing Jim as if he was going to tell him some big secret. “Jim, you heard the boss, time for us to back away, let it be handled by somebody else. I know that you don’t want to let go, but, trust me, at this point, we let go. The department here in Cleveland Heights is stuck, not enough to arrest, not enough to bring to a Grand Jury, not enough, not enough, not enough. It pisses me off, but it also opens another door.”

  “What door, what are you talking about?”

  “What I am saying is, well, we are family, you remember our conversation a few years back, we are Clan, cousins everywhere.”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Well that bit we all heard about way back a hundred years ago, that was not just a story, it really happened. The family found the guy and put him in the pit to die. They did it then and they have settled other accounts since then that don’t get talked about. Remember, if you know something, don’t talk about it, if you don’t know, don’t ask and what you don’t know you cannot tell. It’s kind of simple, but it works, at least so far.”

  “So where are we going with this?”

  “I’m sure that the clan has already made some contingency plans for our friend.”

  “Such as—?”

  “Such as, first making sure that he did do it, at least Annette, then figure how many of the others he did. Second, find the evidence that confirms as much of the suspicions as we can, everything if possible. Then third, well then he will be punished.”

  “You mean pitted. We can’t do that, it’s not legal, it’s not ethical or moral or right. We can’t fall to that level, become gangsters and write our own rules.”

  “I’m not saying that we will, I’m saying that the Clan will probably look very hard at this whole thing and then, they may act, they may wind up running him over with a truck, or shooting him. Hell, I don’t know what they will do, more than likely they would gather the information and go through some legal channel, local or state or federal and get the guy locked up. You know prison is not exactly the safest place for guys who murder little girls, no matter who puts him away, someone inside will feel entitled to put him down and say that he gives regular murderers and rapists a bad name.”

  “Yeah, bad guys have daughters too.”

  “Exactly, anyway, just be aware that this thing will not fall through the cracks. If the first try doesn’t get him, the next one or the next one after that or another one down the line will get him. Sooner or later, Averell Danker will pay the price for what he did.”

  “Yeah, I guess if I heard that somebody did run him down with a truck, I wouldn’t feel bad about it.”

  “I didn’t want you to think that we had to just accept a possible ‘Cold Case’ stamp on the file.”

  “Understood, but now I am concerned that the family is getting a little too casual about how we can address this.”

  “Just be aware that someone may ask you to be involved in some way, and you may have to make a choice. Think about it for a few days and we should talk again.”

  “Okay, I hear you, it’s a lot to push around in my head, but I will give it thought. You think someone will ask me for something, like what?”

  “Like the information that you gathered, that was a lot of work. I know it was sent to the feds, and we shared it with other departments, so, maybe somebody else may want to read it over. Hell I really don’t know, just be ready for someone from the family to contact you.”

  “What would you do, if they asked you for the information?”

  “Jimmy, I would do whatever it takes to get this son of a bitch, and hurt him. Assuming that he is the guy that did take Annette.”

  “But that’s just it, we don’t know for sure.”

  “They would make absolutely sure, before doing anything to hurt him. In fact, they would probably try to use the legal system to its max, collect the information, hand it over and let the system work.”

  “Maybe, like I said, it’s a lot to think about and I will do just that, and thanks for the heads up.”

  They went back to the kitchen and Jim thanked Nancy for dinner and her patience and said they were going to head home. He intended to fall asleep watching the Indians game on television and he would think about the family matter tomorrow.

  They got back to their apartment, Jim turned on the television and went into the kitchen to open another beer when the phone rang. Margo answered it and handed it to Jim with a shrug of her shoulders. The voice on the phone was a deep authoritative sounding man with a slight brogue. “Good evening Jimmy m’boy. My name is Aaron and we have a few things to discuss.”

  “Yeah, sure, and I have a ballgame to watch so why don’t you call back tomorrow,” said Jim.

  “Allow me a minute and you’ll see the importance of this call,” said Aaron.

  “Okay, a minute.”

  “Annette Shelton.”

  Jim turned toward the television and pushed the mute button on the remote. “Alright, you have my attention.” Margo sat up straight and looked quizzically at Jim. He responded by holding up a finger and listening to the caller.

  “You’ve been collecting information on a number of missing children around Annette.”

  “Yes, and—,” said Jim.

  “And we are in a position to do something with it,” said Aaron.

  “Does it involve this Danker character?” asked Jim.

  “That it well may lad, but the less I tell you, the less that you can tell someone else. We work behind a curtain of sorts, no names, no questions and no answers to the wrong people.”

  “So what do you want from me?”

  “Two things, first have you added anything to your files that has not been sent to the Feds?”

  “No, what I have, was sent to them by the department.”

  “And second, could we discuss several points that you made in these files?”

  “Okay, now it’s my turn. First who are you?”

  “If I said that I was a friend, and I’m trying to help, would that answer the question?”

  “No, so you have to do better than that.”

  “Well now Jimmy boy, I suppose that you have guessed who I might be and that apparently is not enough either, so I’ll tell you this, in a long distance sort of way you and I are related and we are both closer to Annette than to each other. You are an officer of the law in America, I am also a part of that same profession, but I can tell you no more than that. I can say that we have the
same objective in what we are doing, but you have to follow the rules, and I do not. It is because the investigation is stalled and there is no possibility of an arrest at this point that I am involved. I will try to keep this entire process legal, but if I have to cross a line, I will. Now I already have a copy of your files, but it may help if we could go over each item and be sure that we have a firm grip on everything.”

  “You want me to help you?”

  “Yes and your involvement would be between us, nobody else would even know that we have spoken.”

  “I can’t do that, it’s not the way it’s supposed to happen. I may want to do something, but you have to understand, we have a process, slow and plodding, but it is the process that continues to protect us all and I can’t go against that.”

  “Understood, Jimmy boy, and I respect your conviction, but, I may still call you with questions. I already know the answer to many of them will be to repeat what you have just said, but I still may call.”

  “You know, I have to report this conversation.”

  “You do what you must and I will too. I might suggest that you talk to your cousin and your wife about this, see what they suggest you do. Now go watch your ballgame, we’ll be talking again soon.” The line went silent.

  “Aaron—.” But he was already gone. Jim stood looking at the phone.

  Margo looked at him and said, “What was that all about?”

  “This guy, says his name is Aaron, says he wants me to review my files with him.”

  “Is that good or bad, I mean who is Aaron?”

  “That’s just it, I really don’t know. He said, talk to your wife, talk to your cousin.”

  “So—.”

  Jim dialed Sean’s number, “Sean, it’s Jim, I just got a call from a guy—.”

  Sean cut him off, “Aaron?”

  “Yeah, who is he?”

  “That’s hard to explain. He is one of us, family, or more appropriately, Clan. Aaron is not his real name. I didn’t think that they would be that quick to start contacting us and I wanted you to be ready when they did.”

  “Sean, this sounds a little off .”

  “Yeah, a little strange, but I think you should give him some leeway, he is going to try to address a situation that we, the cops, can’t or couldn’t, like we were talking earlier. What did he want from you?”

  “He wants to review my files with me.”

  “Jimmy, if I was in your shoes right now, I would do it.”

  “You think that I should, I mean—.”

  “Jim, you built a couple of files that are all public knowledge, there

  are no secrets buried in there. This guy, Aaron is one of us, he is on the

  team that represents the Shelton’s interests. You will do nothing wrong. There may be a piece or two that they have or that they could find that once added to your data will open a big door, you’re helping them do their jobs. Jim, these guys have contacts everywhere, no telling what they may find.”

  “Yeah, and no telling what they would do with all that info.”

  “Well at some point, we may have to trust somebody.”

  “Okay, Sean, do you know this Aaron?”

  “No, we have never met, do you have a problem with this?”

  “Well I have been thinking about our conversation and well, yes in

  part and then again, no, not really.”

  “Then I would do it, and don’t tell anyone unless you are directly asked about it. And then be perfectly honest, hell it would just be a conversation with a relative about stuff from the newspapers, right?”

  They talked for a few more minutes and Jim said, “Well I still have to think about this, and I have to tell George.”

  “You should tell George, but you don’t have to.”

  “Sean, I do have to.”

  “Jimmy, that’s what makes you a good cop, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Jim went back to the living room and pushed the power button on the TV remote, second inning, no score, he sat down next to Margo. She poked him in the ribs and said, “Well, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sort of, I don’t know, sort of, thinking about what this guy

  thinks that I can give that he doesn’t already have.” They watched the

  game, but Jim’s mind was on Annette and Aaron. All of a sudden it was the eighth inning and Cleveland was ahead by one run.

  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Yeah, planning . . . that was a good move . . .

  Aaron tossed the cell phone he just used into a brief case and picked up another one. He checked his notes and placed another call. This call was to a man he knew only as ‘Adam’. As he was known only as Aaron to all but the very few at the top of this pyramid, so the man he now called was known as Adam. At the end of this project all cell phones and e-mail addresses would be abandoned and/or destroyed. There would be no trail to follow, no name to match, nothing. These men understood that they may well be closely related, or they could be distant cousins, many times removed. It was important that each individual maintain that wall of secrecy around himself. “The less you know, the less you can tell.” It had worked before and it would continue to work here . . .

  “Adam, this is Aaron, I’ve sent the files to you already and had a brief conversation with our friend in Cleveland Heights. I think he wants to help, but his ethics are keeping him from jumping in, I respect the guy for that and assume that you do also. I told him that I will probably call him if we feel the need to talk, he may change his mind. You have a number to reach me, anytime. Good luck.”

  The man listened and did not speak. He heard the message and hung up. These men avoided as much conversation as possible. The fewer words the better. He shuffled a few papers on his desk and found what he was after, picked up his cell phone and dialed a number, “We have a go, files will be in place in the AM. Meeting in two days at the prime location, time as set up” and he hung up. He took his wallet out and placed it in his desk drawer and took out a different wallet, checked the contents and put it in his pocket. He removed his ring and watch and put on others from the same drawer, packed a few papers in his brief case and walked out of his office. As he passed an administrative aid, he said “Marcy, you are looking fantastic today, I will be out for the rest of the week, got some family business to take care of, everything is in order, if you need me for anything, my cell will be on constantly. I hope to clean this up within a week, maybe an extra day or two.”

  Marcy smiled, “Okay Jake. Is Paul aware of this one, or do you want me to advise him?”

  “He knew it was coming, but yeah, let him know that I had to move on this now, and again I have my cell always.”

  Marcy was used to this sudden shifting of gears, it’s what they did, constantly adjust, adapt, address whatever pops up. She nodded and scribbled a note and put it in an envelope. She put the envelope in a mail box behind her, and got back to her file searching. As Jake, or Adam as he would be known for the next week or so, walked out of the building he hit a number on his speed dial and spoke into the phone, “Yes, I need a flight to Buffalo, New York as soon as possible. I can be there in about thirty minutes. I will put this on my Amex.” and he rattled off the numbers as if he did this every day. He got in his car and drove out through the security gate. Adam, or Jake, was a veteran spook with almost twenty years of varied experience. He was young looking for his age, able to pass for being in his late twenties when he was actually forty two. Jake stood a full six foot three and tipped the scales a little over two hundred forty pounds. He was a bit over his desired two twenty five but it was mostly muscle he had gained playing hockey in a local men’s league and lifting weights. He was beginning to lose his hair at an alarming rate, but what remained retained it’s dark brown coloring. He had a fist full of medals from his tours in Viet Nam including a Purple Heart for a bullet that made a mess of his left thigh. A year of rehab had gotten him over the hump and he passed a physical allowing him to return to ac
tive duty in the Marine Corps. His

  duty, however, was destined to be pushing papers and that was not what he signed on to do. So he resigned his commission, went back to school for a semester of post grad work and found a job with an engineering firm in Cleveland, Ohio. Design engineering and construction was an interesting and fun field and he was good at what he did, but the excitement that he saw in the corps was not to be found designing Air Conditioning systems. When an old friend approached him about an opportunity with an agency where he could use his many skills including his engineering talents, he was ready to sign up without any persuasion on the part of the agency. A few years into his new life as an agent with the CIA, Jake was again shot in the left leg, this time by an over anxious East German border guard who mistook him for someone else and this time the resulting hitch in his stride was a little more defined and made his participation in covert activities less likely. He spent the next several years in the several departments back in McLean working at various times on identifications, disbursing, weapons testing, and special equipment development. He, his wife Kate and their two sons lived in Northern Virginia in the middle of Fairfax County in a newer contemporary home. The boys were both approaching high school age and altogether too soon would be off to college and their own lives. For that reason, Jake was happy to no longer be in the field, traveling around the world. He was happy to be behind a desk and home almost every night. The last five years of his career had been in analyzing information gathered in the field and preparing analyses of potential operations.

  This was truly family business as he stated to Marcy, even though she could tell there was something else in the background. Jake was related to Jim McClarry, Sean Daugherty, Aaron and the Sheltons, each was a distant relationship, but all part of the Clan, all part of the family. This time out of the office was going to use up a week or two of his accumulated vacation time. No problem there either, he had accumulated a number of days with late nights and weekends in the office.