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  • Politics & Prejudice Ch. 02

Politics & Prejudice Ch. 02

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The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 7 - The Widow Athena Jones (continued)

Previously, in the Iron Crowbar series... (specifically, 'Sting of the Scorpion, Ch. 5')...

"BINGO!" yelled out Mrs. Parker in the Fellowship Hall of the Catholic Church. The other old ladies groaned.

"Well," said one old woman, getting up, "I must be off. It's getting late. Thank you for such a lovely evening, Father Francisco."

"Ah, my pleasure, madam." said Father Francisco, smiling benignly. "I hope we'll be seeing you next Wednesday night."

"I do, too." said the old woman. "Goodnight ladies. I'll see you at the Community Center. Goodnight Mrs. Boddiker." she said, touching her friend's shoulder on her way out. Among the chorus of salutations, Mrs. Boddiker said goodnight to her and promptly went back to her bingo cards.

Once out of the Fellowship Hall and beyond the eyes of anyone, the old woman scurried up the passageway towards the back of the building. If caught, she'd say she was looking for a restroom. She was not caught.

Exiting by a back door, she moved past the living quarters of the priests that were at the back of the Church grounds. The gate was open and she moved along the sidewalk, almost to the street. She stopped in the darkness and listened intently, watching along the street for any sign of anyone watching her.

Seeing none, she stepped out onto the sidewalk of the street and walked as swiftly as she was able in a westerly direction. She turned between two buildings, stopping and waiting to see if she was being watched or followed. She then went up that alleyway and between buildings, in what would've been called mews in the days of horses and carriages.

Coming out on another street, she repeated this pattern until she was just south of Courthouse Square. Entering a door that led to a small apartment upstairs above the shops, she let herself in with her key. Closing the door and locking it, she flicked on the light switch, which turned on one lamp on the chair-side table... and saw the woman sitting in the chair, waiting for her.

"Oh my heavens!" the old woman said. "You startled me. And why are you here, at this hour?"

"Why, I came to see you." said Captain Cindy Ross of the Town & County Police, getting up out of the chair. "The Widow Athena Jones, I presume?"

* * * * *

Phyllis Troy took off her shawl and wig. "Yes, it's me. I am the Widow Athena Jones."

"Why are you doing this?" Cindy asked. Phyllis sat down in the other chair, motioning for Cindy to sit back down, as well.

"Cindy, my son is in great danger. Incredible danger. What he is doing is noble, is valiant, but he cannot do this alone. He needs help if he is going to win against this Shadow Man."

"Do you know who he is?" Cindy asked.

"Yes." Phyllis said. "And it would shock you if I told you."

"So what's with the 'Athena Jones' thing?" asked Cindy. "Why the disguise?"

"Oh, he would know who I am by sight." Phyllis said. "But my estranged daughter's ability at disguises was inherited. I am also good at them. But I cannot do it alone against this foul beast of man, either. So I've enlisted help."

"Ohhh... all the Senior Citizens." Cindy said, suddenly seeing the light.

"Yes, your intuition serves you well." Phyllis said. "The only thing I must ask you is that you never reveal this to Don. If he finds out, so be it, and I'll step up and take the blame. But the Shadow Man must never find out... I fear what he would do. Not to me, but to others...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Back in present time, Thursday May 19th, in my office...

My mother's eyes were twinkling as she stared right back at me, not giving an inch.

"So, Mom." I said. "Why don't you tell me what I already know half of, fill in the blanks, yes?"

"We are trying to keep you alive, son." my mother said. "I have lost my husband. My daughter is a rogue smuggler and testimony to my disastrous raising of her, as well as her rejection of the Scriptures. You are all I have left, and while your work to take down the Consultant of Crime is noble, it won't do me any good if I have to bury you for your efforts."

I finally sat back down. "And having the Senior Citizens of this County be your watch patrol?" I asked.

"Oh come on, son." my mother said. "They're old. They only have Death to look forward to. They haven't had so much fun in their lives, and they know they're doing something important. They knew and know the risks, and were willing to keep watch against this foul bastard. And they want to clean this County up of the filth infesting it as much as you do, if not more."

"And it was them blowing the whistles that night I was confronting Bryce... because you thought the Consultant had the drop on me." I said.

"He did have the drop on you, son." said my mother. "You expose yourself much too freely. I very much fear whatever your 'hair-brained scheme' is to take the Consultant down."

"Don't worry about that." I said. "And speaking of hair-brained schemes... " I was shaking my head. "Fortunately, Cindy recognized the smell of the explosives and got you all out in time."

"Yes, she was very brilliant and decisive in that." said Phyllis. I looked over at Cindy.

"How long have you known?" she asked. Nice deflection, there, I thought to myself.

"For a long time." I said. I reached over to my bookshelf, and pulled out the Sherlock Holmes Canon that had been put on my desk, the 'they set fire to our rooms last night' passage highlighted.

"Let's see here..." I said, turning through the early pages of the tome. "Hmmm... 'The Sign of Four'... ah, 'Detective Athelny Jones'. Interesting name, there, don't you think?" My mother's eyes twinkled even more as she grinned.

I was not grinning as I continued: "And of course... 'Athena' is a Goddess, and she's the 'Pallas Athene' of the Trojan Temple where Cassandra was raped by Ajax, all parts of the story of the Trojan War... a war which is being newly waged against us Troys by the Consultant of Crime, as this painting and matchstick Trojan Horse attests to. I assume you looked at the capsule inside, Mom?"

My mother nodded. "Yes, I did. I had to know. Anyway, you caught on to my disguise. I should have known... you never asked what I was doing all these days and nights for all these months." she said with perfect 20/20 hindsight.

"But it was Captain Ross who did find you." I said, then looked at Cindy and said darkly: "Went to visit her, you did. Told your boss, you did not."

"No I didn't. I kept the secret." Cindy said, with both defiance and pride in her voice. "Her plan was dangerous, but if it helped keep you alive and able to beat the son of a bitch, it was worth doing."

Just then Helena buzzed me. "Sir, there are twelve senior citizens out here who want to speak with you."

"Your defense team is here to rescue you from me." I said. "Helena, please escort them to Classroom 'J'. I'll be right down." I got up. "Okay, let's go tell them."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"This was our doing." said Mrs. Veasley, leading the defense. "We proudly volunteered to help your mother and Captain Ross watch for mischief in our Town." There was a chorus of agreement.

"Yes, and you've done a very good job, all of you." I said. "I very much appreciate the work you have done all these months helping us. But it should be obvious that your cover is blown, and our Enemy knows what you are doing. He tried to kill you once already. So I am going to have to ask you to stop."

"Not so fast, young man!" said Old Mrs. Boddiker, rising and shaking her umbrella at me. "I was born in this County, I have lived in this County all my life, and I will die in this County by the Grace of God. And until that happens, I want to help you get rid of this filth in my County!"

There was another loud chorus of agreement. I saw Mr. Davis, who'd parachuted behind enemy lines on D-Day. I saw Mrs. Williams and the others, and the determination in their eyes. And Mrs. Boddiker... I'd rather fight Cindy in the Police Boxing Matches than tangle with that determined woman. How could I tell them 'no'?

"All right." I said. "But do me this favor. Just keep your heads down until July 4th, okay? By then, all will be well."

Part 8 - Racial Divides

"The FBI is involved in the bombing now." said Sheriff Daniel Allgood as we sat in the Main Conference Room thirty minutes after my meeting with the Senior Citizens. The Sheriff had come into that meeting and stated his relief that none of them were hurt, and was inundated with well-deserved praise for Cindy Ross.

The Senior Citizens were now getting a full tour of Police Headquarters. I figured the jail and the underground areas like the Shooting Range would excite them the most. Turns out their favorite place to see... was the Iron Crowbar's office.

The Sheriff continued: "The Fire Department's Arson Squad is also working on the case. The SBI's Bureau of Firearms and Explosives (BFE) have been explicitly denied entry to the scene, and their help specifically and explicitly rejected."

"Think the FBI will find anything?" asked Chief Moynahan. He was looking at me when he asked.

"No." I said. "Zoe Singer and her team found the detonator. It was set off by a timer device. The FBI will run tests on the plastique traces they found, but this seems like uniquely made stuff that they don't have an ID for." Batches of plastic explosives can have unique signatures when run through a mass spectrometer, gas chromatograph, and liquid chromatography methods.

"No one smelled anything before today," I continued, "so it's likely this was done last night. The Mouseketeers have already analyzed all the street cameras in the area. They went down around 1:00am, started whacking out with horizontal lines, then went blank."

"They were jammed, in other words." said Sheriff Allgood. I just nodded, not saying that someone on the Enemy team had a video-killer similar to mine and Cindy's.

"And whoever did that knew that cameras were there, where they were, and what to do about them." continued the Sheriff. I nodded.

"Well," said the Chief, "our friends in the Fire Department and FBI will handle all that. My concern is the murders of two firemen... black firemen. I've already been called by Councilman Reginald B.F. Lewis, and the Reverend Joseph E. Williams of the A.M.E. Church. They are already hearing rumblings amongst their people."

"I have Officers talking to all the Station 2 Firemen." I said. "They will also interview friends of the deceased that they can find. I talked to the Station 2 Superintendent just before the Community Center explosion, and he told me that he was not aware of any threats to the Station nor any Firemen, much less those two men. In addition, neither Chief Quinlin nor any of the Battalion Chiefs nor Fire Marshal Singer had received any information of a threat to any Firemen. The TCPD also had nothing in advance that would suggest this attack was coming."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Nothing, sir." said Detective Theo Washington, who was the lead Detective on the murder case. "All the Firemen were pretty much in shock about it. They said they knew of no specific threats to either one of the guys, nor any Fire Department personnel. They also said that Johnny Jackson was pretty quiet and never went drinking at bars; he was mostly at the Chess Club. DeSean Malcolm, however, regularly went to bars or clubs in the Tenderloin District, but never overdid it with the drinking, and never got into fights that they were aware of."

"Does the Fire Department have a place like our Cop Bar?" I asked. We were in my office. Cindy was sitting on the sofa, as usual, while the Detectives were in the 'hot chairs'.

"Well, the Firemen in the northern half of the County come to the same Cop Bar." said Teddy Parker, who was working with Theo on the case. "Neither of these guys came all the way up to it, though. Our Precinct Two goes to the 'Jefferson Tavern', a watering hole not far from the Old Mill, which sits on the River on the south side of Jefferson Avenue. Some Fire Station 5 guys go there, as well, but again.. neither of these guys went there very often if ever."

"Okay. Good work." I said. "Anything else of interest?"

"Uh..." said Parker. Theo looked at him, then caught me peering.

"Spill it." I said.

"We were debating whether we should even bring this up, sir." Parker said. "Several of the black Firemen asked if we thought these guys were targeted because they were black. They couched it as questions, but I got the idea they were doing that to 'suggest', or plant the idea in our minds. And nearly every white Fireman we talked to asked if the former EMTs were behind the murders. A couple even outright said they suspected it was EMTs."

"That's definitely something to bring up to me." I said. "Did either of you guys get the idea that there are racial problems in the Firehouses? Theo?"

"Not really, sir." said Theo. "I should tell you this, though: a lot of people in the black community don't like black firemen nor black policemen. Not all of them, but some, say that we've sold out to The Man, that we're betraying our race by working for the Government in any way. Now some of these people are just jealous; they'd kill for a good job like mine or a Fireman's. But some genuinely see it as a betrayal, especially by people like me who go to work for the cops."

"Yes, I've heard a few rumors like that." I said. "And it's unfortunate. Having said that, did you get any vibe at all of racial tension inside the Firehouse?"

"No sir." said Theo. "They have to depend on each other too much. That's why Malcolm was told to tone it down by more senior black Firemen, including Jackson."

"Okay." I said. "Captain, lets get the word put out to all Fire Stations for their guys to watch each other's backs and try to stay in groups, even when off duty. I suspect these guys were targeted partly because they were lone wolves that didn't stick with the pack, so they were easier prey."

"Wilco, sir." said Cindy, making a note on her pad.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As a gesture of goodwill, Cindy and I went with Sheriff Allgood to the Fire Department Headquarters, to report on the murder case. Present were Fire Chief Quinlin, Fire Marshal Zoe Singer, Battalion Chief Carlson and Battalion Chief Tucker, both longtime veterans of the Fire Department.

We laid out what we knew, which was little so far. Zoe added what she could about the explosives and the device used. We asked them to disseminate through their ranks the warnings to stick together and be careful.

"So," said Battalion Chief Tucker, "do you think the former EMTs had anything to do with this?"

"No." I said. "There are no EMTs left in this County that I am aware of." I said... then made a point to say "If you know of any EMTs still here, please let me know so that I can evacuate them."

"Is it true," said Battalion Chief Carlson, "that you helped those filthy EMTs out, helped them get jobs?" I could see that this was a pre-planned ambush attempt.

"You damn straight it is." I said, looking the man dead in the eye. "I did everything I could to help them, as did P. Harvey Eckhart of 'The Vision'."

"That fucking son of a bitch." breathed Tucker. The reaction I hoped for did indeed happen: Cindy stood up, the blue crowbar ready to go.

"Watch your language, asshole." she said. "That's my father you're talking about." There were plenty of stunned looks to go around, and one of exasperation from a Sheriff trying to keep order and peace.

"You can't talk to me that way, Captain." said Tucker, standing up himself.

"I can." I said, quietly but levelly. "And Eckhart is my blood kin, too. Now sit down."

"Okay, guys," said Sheriff Allgood, "let's just move past this shit. The EMS no longer exists in this County. The Police are trying to solve the murder of two Firemen here. Have a seat, Chief Tucker."

"If they want to solve this, then they should start considering that it might be EMTs that murdered our guys." said Carlson.

"All right, guys." said Chief Quinlin, finally bringing his people into line. He then said "But they have a point, Sheriff... if not EMTs, who would want to kill two Firemen like that?"

"They may not have been killed because they were firemen." I said. "They may have been killed because they were black. And the racial angle is the one I've been trying to confirm or dispel all day."

"We haven't had any racial problems in the Fire Department for years." said Tucker.

"I don't think it's internal." I said.

"But to what end?" asked Quinlin.

"I'm not sure yet." I said. "So... you're having a memorial service on Saturday?"

"Yes." said Chief Quinlin. "At the A.M.E. Church. Two o'clock. All off-duty personnel will be invited to attend, and we'll have skeleton crews at Stations 2 and 5. Some of the people there will be on-call, and called out of the service if needed."

"You think someone is going to burn or bomb a building at that time?" asked Sheriff Allgood. "Maybe the Community Center was a prequel to it? Practice for it?

Hmmm, pretty astute he is, I thought to myself. "I don't know." I replied. "I don't think the Community Center bombing is related to these killings at all. As to what might happen, and when?" I shrugged my shoulders.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Well, you stirred the pot again." Cindy said as we drove back to Police Headquarters. "Of course, I did too... "

"Yes, we learned some things from that, too." I said.

"Think they'll come after me for insubordination?" Cindy asked.

"No." I said. "As you know, Captains and above enjoy a certain immunity from that, at least as demonstrated with Brownlee and with those old farts. Don't worry about it, they know they crossed the line when they insulted our blood kin that way."

After a pause, I continued: "But it was instructive. I guess you've noticed they'd really like to blame an EMT for this. Sort of like the Media always immediately tries to blame a Conservative TEA Party member for school shootings or theater shootings, then it turns out the Media was lying. As usual."

"I just don't get the hatred." said Cindy. "The EMTs are gone, yet they wanted to kill you right there for telling them you helped the EMTs get jobs. I could see it in their eyes, they really wanted to come up against you for that. And I hope that doesn't come back to haunt us, the Police. Some people in the Fire Department are still pissed that we busted those firemen raping that girl."

"Yep." I said. "And that's something else now out in the open. Those Battalion Chiefs pre-planned that little attack on me."

"Maybe the Fire Chief will rip them one."

"Oh hell no." I said. "Quinlin has played it straight in public, and he's pretty much done the right things. But the first thing he said upon learning about this was to ask if EMTs did it. He keeps things in line, but he's no friend of the EMTs. So... what do you think about these murders?"

Cindy replied "I've learned over time to observe you and deduce from your questions and statements what you think is going on. You were very interested in that memorial service for Saturday. You think something about that is important. If it's not setting a fire elsewhere at that time, then maybe you think something will happen at the service itself."

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