by William Mark
“All I need is a distraction, and we’ll do the rest,” Rachel explained.
Curt agreed and as he was being escorted away from the center of the crowd by the Vail detectives. Beth had quickly palmed the stem of Pittman’s champagne flute as he handed it back, while keeping his eyes fixed on Curt. Beth, amongst the confusion, simply handed the glass off to Melinda, dressed in wait-staff garb, who then slid it to Louis, also dressed as wait-staff. Both were already wearing plastic gloves to preserve the integrity of the evidence. Louis placed the glass into a plastic evidence bag and sealed it, keeping the Senator’s DNA around the rim of the glass undisturbed until the lab analyst could swab it and compare it to the DNA from Mirra Teal’s underwear.
Chapter 48
Rachel saw the first phase of her plan executed seamlessly. She hoped the notion that “the truth will set you free” would prevail in the next phase of her plan. It extended her faith knowing that good things have to happen to good people. This, of course, was aimed at Curt.
After seeing the Vail detectives whisk Curt away from the University Club, she followed them to the police station to bare her soul about that fateful night when the evil men lost their lives. But first, she saw to it that the champagne flute with Pittman’s DNA found its way to the private DNA testing lab Alexis had contacted. When the expected outcome was made known, she then provided it to the police on behalf of Mirra Teal.
In the lobby of the Tallahassee Police station, Rachel sat alone. She fought off the unwelcome feeling of helplessness that she correlated with sitting in police stations. After she was found wandering the streets following the escape from her kidnapper, she was subjected to a long and tortuous wait until her mother took her home. It was a feeling she despised.
Up one floor, in the Criminal Investigations Division, Curt invited his sergeant back into the interview room after talking to the Vail detectives. He explained, with vivid detail, the actions he and the team had taken to uncover the truth about Thomas Pittman and why he was responsible for Josh’s disappearance. The Chief and Captain left the room to talk over the sensitive information Curt provided. Sgt. Melvin Polk remained and sat back in his chair, astounded by the effort it took for Curt and the team to reach their conclusion. Given the political status of their suspect, Polk was wary about simply using circumstances to prove a case. When Curt explained about the ruse to obtain Pittman’s DNA and the existence of DNA linking him to Mirra Teal, he was just about sold.
“Okay, so now what?” Polk leaned his hefty body against the far wall of the interview room, arms crossed.
Curt knew his fate rested on the outcome of the Vail detectives, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from getting justice for his son. He explained that once the DNA comparison was done, someone from the team would send it over, and that’s when he offered a solution to catch the Senator in the act and expose him for the monster he truly was.
“He’ll argue the validity of the DNA test. It being taken from a third party, non-law enforcement entity doesn’t hold up as well as if it were us who collected it.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s not his. Even if he argues that, it’s still enough to get a search warrant and compel him to re-do the test anyway.”
“That’s true,” Polk agreed.
“Well, I need to run it up the chain….”
“Keep it as quiet as possible…please Mel?”
“I will, I will. Don’t worry. I’ll fight for you. I like it, but that’s only if the DNA comes back and you’re not hauled off to some Colorado prison.”
Curt smirked at the notion and cracked a smile. “Fair enough.”
***
Unbeknownst to Curt, while he sat in solitude in the interview room, Rachel Goodwin intercepted the Vail detectives and introduced herself as the missing witness. Detective Rankin skeptically studied the pretty, blonde woman and rolled his eyes at her forwardness.
“Of course you are, dear. And why wouldn’t my missing witness just randomly show up out of the blue?” Rankin said sarcastically.
He nodded for her to follow him outside so he could smoke while they talked. Rachel explained that she was the missing witness whom Curt had saved from nearly being killed at the hands of the human traffickers. She offered up a full and detailed report of her account so that they would know the truth and, hopefully, would reach the conclusion that it was a justified act.
“Don’t you think that is up to a jury, Ms. Goodwin?”
“Not in this case. Others yes, but not this one. Plus, I have some incentive for your consideration.”
“Incentive?” he scoffed. “Honey, I’m too old and don’t care enough to take a bribe. You gotta do better than that.”
“No, detective, not money. Incentive.”
Rankin took a step back as a large black van slowly rolled to a stop in the small parking lot at the front of the police department. Rachel took a step back, and with precision timing, the side door rolled open. Rankin thought she was going to make a run for it except that she never took her eyes off the seasoned detective. He remained calm, letting things play out. When the door opened, a nerdy man from inside handed Rachel a small object that she clutched by her side.
“What’s that?” the detective’s curiosity was peeked. “A video of something? The shooting? Did you get it on video?”
“No, sorry detective. It is a video, just not of the shooting. But it’s incentive, nonetheless.”
She handed him the video tape. He took it and read the handwritten label on the side. After realizing the implications of what he read, his head shot up, and he stared at the enigmatic woman. She met his stare with the expectancy of his cooperation.
“Where did you get this?”
“Jack Cauldress’ closet.”
“Holy shit.” Rankin clearly recognized the name on the label and that this cassette matched several other sex tapes he found in Cauldress’ apartment. Obviously, Rachel and whomever she was working with had made it to the apartment beforehand.
“Well? Is that good enough incentive? I’m pretty sure she was a willing participant and not drugged like most of the other girls. Only my opinion though.”
“I could care less, but maybe the Chief will see it your way.”
Rachel took that as an agreement that she would provide truthful details in the shooting, and in exchange, they would keep quiet and hand over the only copy of Cauldress having his way with the Vail Police Chief’s wife.
Rankin studied the van and the people inside it for a moment while he looked past Rachel. Something clicked inside his mind, and he reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a small, clear, plastic, evidence bag. Inside the bag was the ear bud comm he had found back in Vail. He’d seen equipment like that before at his own agency—only his technical operation guys had a set-up paid for by taxpayers and not a wealthy philanthropist, so it was more on the economical side.
Rankin wrenched his neck to address the nerdy guy in the van.
“I take it, this is yours?”
Rankin held up the evidence bag for him to see in the street light. Louis’ eyes bulged, and he froze with indecision.
“Yes, that is ours. I’ll gladly take it back if you’re done with it.” Rachel stepped into Rankin’s field of view.
“Hell, might as well. You people hijacked my case anyway.” Rankin tossed it over to Rachel and turned toward his rental car so he could head for the hotel.
“One more thing, detective?”
Rachel explained that she needed one last favor from the Vail detective. Given her recent generosity and discretion, she was confident that Rankin and the Chief would agree to this as well.
She made the request in such a way that it was more or less a directive to the veteran detective. He knew when he was being played, and this was no different. With the leverage this woman was holding over the investigation, he felt powerless to do anything other than comply.
“Anything else?” Rankin was tired and just wanted to go h
ome.
“No, that should be it.”
Rachel walked over and got into the large black van. She slid the side door shut and disappeared into the night, leaving the detective to smoke another cigarette. He stared up at the night sky, figuring retirement sounded quite nice at this point.
***
Rachel looked over at Alexis who elegantly occupied the captain’s chair in the Sprinter and smiled. It was getting late as they left the Tallahassee Police Department, but there was still more work to be done.
“Your turn,” she said to Alexis.
“I think Mr. Mason is going to start to really hate me.”
Alexis pulled out her cell phone and after a few rings, Tony Mason answered. She explained that they were in control of the situation, but there was one final request she needed to complete the puzzle, and the story she promised was all but written.
“I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this, but fine. What’s the angle?”
“C’mon Tony, you’re not as cute when you whine!”
Alexis spelled out in detail what she needed of the California reporter and explained that this would be the last hurdle he’d have to jump before the real story was gift wrapped for him. He protested, as expected, but willingly accepted his role. He wondered how the Senator fit in her devious web and tried to foresee the outcome, but the possibilities were endless with Alexis Vanderhill.
“Still not sharing what you have on the Senator?” Mason probed.
“Only after your half of the deal is satisfied…then everything comes out.”
“Fine.”
Chapter 49
Senator Thomas Pittman awoke with the sun beaming through his skylight and into his bedroom, gently pulling him from a restful slumber. He smiled at the promise of a new day, because he was still in control; he still had his power. The effects from over consumption of the champagne lingered, as well as the disappointment of spending the night alone. He was sure he’d read the flirty signals from Miss Harvey, but somehow, they’d got crossed up. However, the scare from the night before was a close call and sobering enough. He reminded himself to set aside some time to deal with that problem.
He confidently strolled around his sessional townhome in the nude, sipped his coffee, and quickly retrieved the newspaper from his doorstep. This temporary place that was home away from home was conveniently located minutes from the Capital Plaza and close to Midtown, a newer area of Tallahassee that offered locally owned restaurants, bars, and specialty shops. He found himself spending more time there as the legislative session continued. It was prime hunting grounds he discovered.
He sat down on the bar stool, soaking up the sunlight on his naked skin and opened up The Democrat. He was shocked at his continued luck and chuckled at the realization that his problem had taken care of itself!
The headline read: Local cop faces murder charges in Colorado. Pittman read the article excitedly and learned that Curtis Walker was responsible for the deaths of at least two men found after a shootout in Vail, Colorado. The article summed up the evidence found on the scene and key witness testimony leading to the identification of Curtis Walker. The piece outlined the theory of the distraught father executing two men in his personal crusade to find his son. The article tied in with his latest heroics of finding his son who had been missing for three years but ended with him possibly facing life in prison for the double murder.
Pittman sat back on the barstool and took a long sip of his coffee. A smile creased his face. He decided that he would call someone in the Colorado State Senate and encourage them to oversee the investigation and admonish the maverick detective’s behavior. He hoped it would grease the wheels of justice in his favor. Pittman read the article again and paid closer attention to the part of Walker’s missing son. He didn’t see anything that hadn’t already been covered in the earlier barrage of press coverage. He looked up at the byline and read the name, Tony Mason, Special Reporter to the Democrat. He would email Mason and pass on his thanks to him as well.
He flipped open the rest of the paper, searching its columns for something else. After a minute, he found the announcement of his upcoming press conference occurring next week. It was vague, by design, but it hinted at the fact that he was going to announce the kick off to his campaign for a seat in the United States Senate.
Chapter 50
Sgt. Polk waited anxiously in the lobby of the police station for his guest to arrive. He checked his watch nervously and realized it still wasn’t quite time. He paced the lobby anyway, annoying the duty officer who sat behind a glass partition.
A week had passed since the news of Curtis Walker’s being charged for murder in Colorado came out. The media was gobbling up the story placing TPD as a whole, in an adverse light. As with most police departments their size, it wasn’t a new position for the agency to be in the spotlight for something negative, and it always made things tense and awkward for the time following an incident. The public was more skeptical and confrontational when the department had negative exposure, and that made it harder for the police to serve the community properly. It certainly lasted longer than any of the positive recognition they received. It was the true nature of how the world worked.
Sgt. Polk checked his watch again. It was one minute past time, but then he noticed his guest was walking up after exiting a black Lincoln Town car. Senator Thomas Pittman was accompanied by his assistant, Jeremy Stephens, and a few reporters were in tow. No doubt they were tipped off to the reason, most likely by his own office, to maximize the publicity of why he was back at the department.
The reason he was asked to come back was that TPD needed a positive spin on a current development to counter all the recent negativity. In a cold case that had resurfaced, the Senator and former City Councilmen, who once sat on an oversight committee, was asked to help out. The case first became active when he sat on the committee before he was elected to the State Senate. It was decided that Pittman should be invited back to help sell the positive development in the case through the media. He jumped at the chance to continue his “tough on crime” platform and get positive coverage.
As Pittman reached the top step of the police station, he turned to address the reporters.
“As you all know, I have a special place in my heart for Tallahassee. As a former oversight committee member for the Tallahassee Police Department, I’ve had the privilege of working alongside the detectives as they served and protected this community. Even though one bad apple has been exposed, there are still many hardworking police officers fighting to keep us safe. Now, I have the chance to come back and see the closure of an important case that has remained unsolved until today, thanks to DNA science.”
The reporters spoke at once trying to jockey for a follow up question, but the Senator added, “No, sorry, no questions…not until after this case is closed, of course.” Pittman smiled his trademark smile, turned, and walked into the police department.
“Thanks for coming Senator; this means a lot to us,” Sgt. Polk greeted the handsome politician.
“Sure, anything for you guys. I just need to be somewhere for a press conference I’m holding in about an hour. Hopefully, I can lead with news of an arrest in this case.”
“That’d be great.”
Stephens took a seat in the lobby and got busy on a tablet he pulled from a briefcase. Polk led Pittman through the lobby, down the hallway, and up to the Criminal Investigation Division. Along the way, he prepped Pittman with the case updates.
“We finally got a hit on that string of rapes that we worked on three years ago. Remember the guy that was targeting the women around Tallahassee Gym Works on the Parkway? It was Walker’s case.”
Pittman paused at the mention of the case as well as Curtis’ name. He smiled back, “Of course, that was right…you know….”
Polk nodded, “Yeah, Josh.”
“So I was told you got a suspect?”
“Yeah, he’s up in the interview room now. Do you want to
watch from the monitor room?”
“Okay, sure. Who is it?” Pittman’s curiosity was obvious.
“His name is Brian Clements, long history of voyeurism, exposing himself in public, and burglary. He used to work at that Gym Works during our time frame and lived in the area we thought our suspect might, so he’s definitely good for it.”
“What about the DNA, my office said you guys got a DNA match?”
“Well, not yet. I mean, it’s kind of funny how that worked out.”
Polk explained that after three and a half years, an additional victim came forward and disclosed that she held onto a pair of panties she was wearing during her tortuous victimization. She had felt ashamed about the whole experience and withdrew herself from her friends and family. After therapy, she finally came forward with the new evidence. It was after gaining this new piece of evidence, Clements’ name came up as a suspect. All that was left was to compare Clements’ DNA to the victim’s panties.
“So you haven’t actually done the testing yet?”
“No, not yet. We’re having it delivered to a lab today.”
“Sounds good. Good work. I’m glad she finally came around.” He hid his concern about the new evidence but outwardly encouraged the Sergeant to press on. He agreed to remain a spectator in the monitor room while they did their jobs, like he had on all the other prior occasions.
Pittman stepped inside the monitor room and instantly stared at the television monitor up on the wall. He wanted to lay his eyes on the suspect. The culprit was not an impressive specimen but gangly and nerdy looking. He wore thick, black rimmed glasses and had greasy black hair. He stood by anxiously to see where this led, but he liked the guy because a predator can always sense another predator.
The interview was underway, and the suspect was steadily talking to the detectives.