Calling Card Capers

by Dan Kelly

  “I break the silence with, “Now that we have a name there are a lot of data bases that can be searched for info on Aldrich, especially the DMV’s for a picture of him which will be on his driver license, and credit card data bases for current usage which will let us know where he is or at least was when he used his credit card. When Don Ericson returns my call I can get him to scour those data bases and any others he thinks might be helpful. He has access to resources that we don’t.”

  Janet adds, “We also now know where he works or worked and we can talk to his colleagues to find out if he directly or indirectly mentioned anything about wanting to move and where or if he mentioned anything about changing jobs. We also should try to identify and locate any relatives or friends he might be in contact with and perhaps get taps on their phones and have surveillance in place in case he shows up on somebody’s doorstep.”

  “That’s something else we can hit Don with when he calls me back. One other data base that can be checked is the one where military records are kept. If he served in the military his finger prints will be on file. If he gets careless and leaves any prints at future crime scenes, we’ll have something to compare them to.”

  Half way through our meal Don calls and I put him on speaker and tell him so and then I fill him in on what we’ve been up to and what we’ve learned. “That’s great work folks. I’ll plunge into those data bases right away. If we get desperate, we can have his picture and a BOLO broadcast on TV within in a 300 mile area from D. C. We’ve got to do everything we can think of to stop this guy, even at the risk of driving him into hiding.”

  “Hold on a second, Don. For her assistance, I promised Janet an exclusive on the entire Crusader affair for her newspaper and when the time is right she’ll get it published under her byline. If anything is to be released to the broadcast media, it has to go through her for her approval and she has to get full credit for what is released. Without her help, we never would have accomplished what we did. Do you have a problem with this?”

  “Janet, I don’t have a problem with it and I don’t think my bosses will either when they hear the part you’re playing in all of this.”

  Janet responds with, “I’m glad I was able to make a meaningful contribution to your investigation and will continue to do so if you need me.”

  “I appreciate that. It’s going to take a while to check these data bases, so I better get to it. I’ll call you, Chet, when the results are in. I wish there was some way we could surmise who this guy’s next target is most likely to be. If we could do that, it might be possible to set up some kind of trap and put an end to this guy’s rampage. Unfortunately, there are just too many people who have connections with our military for that to happen. Bye.”

  As I’m slipping my cell phone into my pants pocket I notice Janet staring at me like I was some kind of bug under a microscope. It’s a little unsettling. “What? Do I have food on my chin, in my hair? Have I sprouted horns? What?”

  “I was thinking about what Don just said and about what you do for a living, researches. You do a lot of work for politicians. Have you ever done any research for the President?”

  Uh, oh. “Occasionally, but what’s that got to do with the price of meatloaf?”

  “Think about this for a minute, Chet. The Crusader’s targets have had strong connections with our military, directly or indirectly, a lobbyist, a Senator, a Superior Court Judge, a general, a couple of weapons manufacturers, the Secretary of Defense. Their activities, their decisions, had a big impact on the military. Now, who has the strongest connection with our military, whose decisions have the greatest impact on our military, far and above these people and anyone else that comes to mind?”

  “Lady Gaga?”

  “Come on, be serious.”

  “Okay, obviously the Commander in Chief, the President.”

  “Chet, the President has to be on the Crusader’s Most Wanted List. It wouldn’t surprise me to find him at the top of the list.”

  “Janet, I’m sure the FBI has alerted the President’s Secret Service detail of the danger the President might be in with respect to the Crusader. He probably has so many Secret Service Agents around him he can’t scratch his butt without jabbing his elbow into someone’s gut. There’s no way the Crusader is going to get the opportunity to take him down.”

  “There would be if a deliberate hole was left in his personal security.”

  “Are you out of your skull? There’s no way he’ll be allowed to use himself as bait in a trap for this maniac.”

  “Who said anything about using him? An impersonator, a look-a-like, could stand in for him in a situation created and controlled by the FBI and the Secret Service yet tempting enough to motivate the Crusader to go for it.”

  “Janet, this guy is a head shooter. How could the impersonator be protected? If he’s standing or sitting behind bullet proof glass, the Crusader won’t make a move. He won’t risk revealing himself to get around that obstacle. He’ll pass and look for another way, another time to deal with the President. Remember, this guy is no dummy. He’s very cautious.”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far in my thinking yet, but on the surface the idea appears to have some merit. You’ve dealt with the President on a face-to- face basis before and might be able to convince him to go along with the program.

  “Chet, this guy changed his MO with the Secretary of Defense. He used a rifle instead of a hand gun. Who’s to say he wouldn’t change his MO again and select another means to kill the President if forced to which the Secret Service being on the alert for trouble would be watching for and could intervene before the impersonator got hurt?”

  “What other type of weapon could the Crusader use which he could hide until he makes his move? Whatever it might be it would have to be something he’d have to get up close and personal to use. A knife is the first thing that pops into my mind.”

  “A knife, perhaps poison administered by a quick prick of the skin by a ring or some other non-threatening looking device like an umbrella maybe.”

  “Janet, you’ve been reading too may spy novels. There’s no way the Secret Service can let a perfect stranger get close enough to attempt to use anything like that without putting the impersonator in extreme danger. Besides, the hole in personal security would have to be very wide to tempt the Crusader to try anything and probably too wide for the Security Service people to intervene in time to save the impersonator from harm.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing. This guy has snapped. He’s gone over to the dark side. Yes, he’s very intelligent, he’s very cautious, but he’s possessed by the desire for revenge and has become irrational when it comes to exacting that revenge. I don’t think the hole in personal security would have to be so wide that the Secret Service couldn’t react to the threat in time. If my assumption is correct that the President is at the top of the Crusaders list of people for retribution, I don’t believe the Crusader will give a tinker’s damn if he gets caught or killed as long as he thinks he can be successful in making the President pay for the perceived role he played in his son’s death.”

  “Hmm. Well, maybe your idea isn’t as far-fetched as I first thought, but it’s rife with risk. We could run it by Don and ask him to present your idea to the Secret Service folks, but to be honest with you I don’t think they’ll go for it. I could run it by the President and if he likes it then it’s a whole new ball game and the Secret Service will have to jump on board whether they like it or not.

  “If something should go wrong though and the impersonator winds up dead and the Crusader somehow eludes capture, that’s going to be a heavy load for us to bear if we push it, become vocal proponents for it. I think I could live with that. I think I would have a lot of trouble dealing with the consequences if I didn’t at least present it to the final decision makers. How about you?”

  “I agree. There are situations where doing nothing is the right course of action to take, but this isn’t one of them. The man
has to be stopped.”

  “Okay, I’ll call Don back and let you make the pitch.”

  Don answers on the first ring. “Hold on a sec, Don. Janet wants to run something by you.” I hand the phone over to her and resume devouring what is left of my meal, roast pork with gobs of apple sauce, garlic mashed potatoes, red cabbage and green beans, which is now lukewarm because we have been talking instead of eating, but it still tastes out of this world.

  Janet looks up at me and shakes her head. Apparently, her idea is getting the reception I thought it would, but she isn’t giving up. After another five minutes of haggling, she finally manages to get Don to agree to present her idea to the Secret Service without his endorsement. Figuring she isn’t going to get that if she talked for the next century, she thanks him for listening and for his willingness to run her idea by the Secret Service people and ends the call.

  “Tough sell, huh?”

  “He has the same concerns you do, but at least he’s willing to solicit other opinions. He said he would let you know what the SS says tomorrow if he has anything to pass on.”

  “Okay, let’s knock it off for now. Your dinner has gotten cold. Let’s have them warm it up, I’ll order us another round of drinks and we can talk about something else more pleasant like you.”

  “Well now, isn’t this an interesting development? Disarming charm is a facet of Chet Dawson you’ve managed to keep well hidden.”

  “I have my moments, especially when I’m in the presence of a vivacious, intelligent go-getter like you.”

  “Oh pour it on. I love it.”

  Our laughter is interrupted by my cell ringing. I check my caller ID and it’s showing ‘Unknown Caller.’ “Hello.”

  “Is this Chet Dawson?”

  “Yes it is and who are you?

  “Your worst nightmare if you don’t stop interfering in matters that are none of your business.”

  “Who is this and what are you talking about?”

  “Stay out of the Crusader’s way or you’ll get run over. This warning goes for that reporter, Janet Vanderhill, you’ve been working with also.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Mr. Dawson. Find another sandbox to play in if you want to go on living.” Click.

  Looking over at Janet I say, “Well, it looks like we just made the Crusader’s Hit Parade. We may not be in the top ten and our names may be written in pencil, but we’ve been selected. If that wasn’t him on the phone just now, I’m ready for the shrink’s couch because my imagination has slipped into unchartered territory.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Butt out or die.”

  “Did he say he was the Crusader?”

  “No, for some reason known only to him he didn’t, but he implied and I inferred that he was.”

  “Someone must have told him about our visit to Frederick. As you’ve said, this guy is no dummy. He’s adding things up. He’s probably seen the article in the Post identifying you as a consultant brought in to assist in the Crusader investigation and then he hears about our visit to Frederick and asking around about his whereabouts. He now knows we have his name, his description and we know about his feelings toward the military and the government. He has to be surmising that he’s a suspect in the Crusader killings. This has to be shaking him up. He might be getting desperate about being able to finish what he started before he’s caught.

  “You know, Chet, this desperation could lead him to take chances he wouldn’t otherwise take. If I’m right and the President is at the top of his list, it might make him prone enough to fall into the trap I’m suggesting.”

  “You’re making a very powerful point. Let’s run it by Don and get his reaction.”

  This time the phone rings five times before Don answers. “This better be good Dawson. I just banged up my shin running to answer the damn phone.”

  “What I’m going to tell you will make you forget all about your little boo-boo.”

  “So tell me.”

  “I just talked with the Crusader.”

  “Did I hear you right or have you been drinking?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your hearing and I’ve only had one beer.”

  “What did he have to say?”

  I tell him and then say, I’m going to put you on speaker and let Janet join the conversation. She has something else she wants you to ponder.”

  Janet summarizes our discussion of the Crusaders state of mind and closes with, “Don, we have no idea how long this guy will go on killing. His hit list could be multiple pages. He’s got to be stopped ASAP. Please do everything you can think of to convince the powers that be to give my trap idea a chance.”

  “You were right about me forgetting about my aching shin, Chet. It’s being replaced by a splitting headache.”

  “Take a couple of aspirins and call me in the morning.”

  I end the call and say to Janet, “Finding out who the Crusader is turned out to be easier than I thought it would be. Let’s hope finding him and putting an end to his vendetta will be as easy.”

  The Crusader’s call has put a damper on our desire for socializing, so we decide to call it a night.

  I drop her off where she parks her car at work and then I head for home. It’s been quite a day.

  Chapter 13

  It’s a very rare occasion when I get into the office before Felicity and this is one of them. She’s normally at her desk between seven and seven-thirty in the morning, way before the rest of us show up. I don’t expect her to do that. She just likes to get an early start on things. It’s a little after seven and I’m betting she didn’t go home when I told her to, staying late to do the research on Aldrich and Sub Rosa Electronics and overslept this morning.

  As I’m sitting down at my desk I’m thinking about what my first step should be to expand on what Janet and I learned in Frederick. A few minutes later that’s relegated to a lower position on my To Do list as I’m finding out I have a lot of catching up to do because I’ve been spending so much time on the Crusader situation. My voice mail is filled to capacity and I have over two hundred email messages to wade through. There goes my morning and possibly part of my afternoon.

  I dive in and get lost in the minutiae of responding to the messages, losing all track of time. I wouldn’t have known what time it was if Felicity hadn’t come storming into the office with her suitcase of a purse over one shoulder, a decent size bag in one hand and her keys in the other, spouting apologies for being late. The wall clock over the door shows its 8:25.

  “Felicity, I don’t want to hear your flimsy excuses. Assume the position, arm out, palm down, twenty lashes with a wet noodle. The next time it will be fifty.”

  “I’m sorry, Chet. I overslept.”

  “What time did you leave here last night?”

  Her face turns slightly pink when she answers. “I left around nine-thirty.”

  “That means you left closer to ten if I know you at all. Why didn’t you go home when I told you to?”

  “I was afraid I wouldn’t have enough time today to do the research on Aldrich and Sub Rosa and I know how urgent it is for you to have it ASAP. We’ve really been busy.”

  “Felicity, you’re not on a time clock here. You’re a key cog in the Dawson Inc. wheel. This place would fall apart without you. If you’re not here when I expect you to be here I know there’s a damn good reason for it and you don’t have to explain it to me unless you feel it’s important for me to know it. And knock it off with the apologies. None are needed. Am I getting through to you?”