First a relation mixup.
Assier is the clerk who was killed
Unnamed clerk says Assier was his brother
Clerk calls for his father, Ali
So If Ali is the clerk’s father then he would also be the father of Assier.
Therefore, the line should be “son” not “brother” in this sentence:
I can’t protect you from the Muslims in Pakistan, the drug people that killed your son.
Sheriff Porter 7
I talked to a bunch of people who came into Hardee’s, while I drank from the endless coffee cup. As far as I was concerned I had closed the Wilbur Owens case. He had committed suicide and I didn’t give a damn what the medical examiner’s opinion was, who, after all, was a fucking butcher. I laughed at that last.
It was almost lunchtime but I wasn’t hungry. I think the thought of Liam as an old man scared the hell out of me. When he was an old man, me being an old woman wasn’t far behind. I just couldn’t imagine me old. Maybe Wilbur Owens had it right.
I couldn’t think like that. It was contrary to the law. Of course I had gotten elected on the easy letter of the law platform. My phone rang and to my surprise it was finally Detective Letter. “Tell me you got something good.”
“Oh yes we have a meth lab. It isn’t what I was after but it is a crack in that end of the drug trade,” he said.
“So when can we move on it?” I asked.
“Just as soon as you are ready,” he suggested.
“Get everybody with a badge who is on duty. We are going to raid a Meth lab,” I said.
The Meth lab we raided was a hot plate and some drug store over the counter meds and some other crap. They couldn’t have been making much. But they would have been a thorn in the big time dealer’s side. So now I had to wonder about Letter.
When the guys were through and we had called in the EPA for an environmental impact assessment, I drove my old truck back to the courthouse. I went to my office and called Mrs. West into the quiet of my office.
“Mrs. West I need you to prepare a forensic accounting file for Detective Letter. Keep it just between us.” She just nodded. She didn’t seem surprised.
I walked down to the detective’s office. They had the only interview room. I went to look through the mirror. The interview looked pretty normal to me. He was asking the right questions. He wanted the kid to incriminate himself and to roll up his dealers. Also anyone who helped him buy the over the counter drugs. He made him the right offers and he made the right threats. When the interview ended I pulled Letter aside.
“Where did the tip come from?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Letter asked.
“Where did the tip come from that led you to that house?” I asked. “You know as well as I do, he is hardly a cooker at all. Somebody gave him up to keep you from looking at somebody else. So who gave you the tip?”
“I can’t surrender a source,” he said. “There is no protocol for that kind of thing,”
“I won’t make it an order that you surrender the name, but you better find out why a low level unconnected cooker is who you came up with. I’m going to start looking for a reason, if you don’t.” He didn’t have to know that I was already checking him out.”
I spent the rest of the day on the third homicide. It was a random shooting in a way. A clerk in a convenience store near the plaza took a bullet trying to save his money. The clerk was the son of a Pakistani national.
Someone died in the commission of an armed robbery. It was way to common an occurrence. I just wanted to look into one thing, then throw it back in the files and forget it. Since every immigrant population is preyed upon by some underground organization, I wanted to be sure there wasn’t some local Pakistani thug selling protection.
First of all I didn’t know if there was such a thing. I called around and found out there was no national crime family, but local groups of thugs did sell protection. The only ones they could protect them from was themselves. So I needed to see if he was paying protection and his son was killed by the thugs.
There was a young Pakistani girl doing her homework behind the counter, and a young man running the register. “Do you know who I am?” I asked the man.
“I have seen your picture on the Television,” he said. “You are the new Sheriff.”
“That is right, and I am a woman, but I am also very good at what I do. What I want to do now is find out what happened to Assier,” I said.
“He was killed in a robbery,” the young man said.
“Did you know him?” I asked.
“He was my brother,” the man said.
“The information in the report is vague. Were you or your family holding back something?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “We told the deputy everything.”
“Do you know what forensic accounting is?” I asked.
“Not really,” he replied.
“I have a lady named Mrs. West. I say to her Mrs. West find out where every penny of the money from the convenience store goes. What she comes back to me with is that there is a large amount of cash unaccounted for from their business. Then I come out and ask is there anything you need to tell me, before we have to call in the FBI. Consider that as what I am doing here,” I said.
“You must speak to my father,” he said.
“Then you need to get him now,” I said. “I’m not going away until this is resolved.”
What started out as a random crime and a routine follow up was proving to be something more. At least it appeared to be.
“What is your name,” I asked.
“Ali,” he said.
“Well Ali you are going to have to close,” I said.
“I can’t close my father will be very angry,” he said.
“Blame it on me. I am going to bring in a search team and dogs and we are going to do a drug search. If we get a hit from our drug dog, then we can get a warrant and search everywhere.”
It was a bluff since we didn’t have a search dog, but he didn’t know that. “When we find the drugs that I’m sure are here, we are going to send you back to Pakistan.”
“No please, they will kill us,” he said.
“Who are the drug dealers or the Pakistani Muslims that are selling poison?” I asked. “What you don’t see is I can protect you from the drug dealers here. I can’t protect you from the Muslims in Pakistan, the drug people that killed your son. Are you alright with that?”
“Of course not, they say you can not protect us,” he said.
“Well you take your chances that I can or I will have you sent back to Pakistan as an undesirable drug dealer,” I said and the longer you stall, the less I care which it is.
“I must talk to my father,” he said.
“Fair enough lock the front door, and I’ll call my search team. As soon as they find something the dealing is over,” I said.
“The place was closed a half hour and he heard me cussing into a dead phone because letter couldn’t get the team together fast enough. Ali came back and said, “My father has agreed to talk to you. He has allowed me to tell you everything I know, which is also everything he knows.”
“Let me get a witness down here.” I turned my attention to the phone. “Dispatch send me Osborn,” I demanded.
When she came, we took possession of 12 bundles of heroine. It had a little number on each bundle. “What does that number mean?” I asked.
“I don’t know. The black man brings me the drugs whenever he feels like it. Then we sell them and he collects the money when he brings more drugs,” he said.
“Do you have a way to get in touch with him, if there is an emergency,” I asked. He gave me a cellphone number.
I had the GPS checked by the geek at the swamp. “Man are you going to owe me for this,” he said.
“My geek friend I will arrange for you to get a first class blow job, just tell me where this clown is at this moment.” He immediately gave me the GPS coordinates. When I entered them into the unit it came back to a location near and even smaller town than County Seat.
“So what you gonna do boss,” Osborn asked.
“You are going to stay here and make sure Ali and his family are safe,” I said. Then I said to Ali, “Close the store and go home. This officer will go with you. I’m going to go talk to your black friend. Then we will decide what to do.”
“Dispatch send me every available unit please to the Hardee’s parking lot in the plaza and do it now.” In twenty minutes I had five units including Simpson, the lab man Wilson, and the two deputies patrolling on the road.”
Now you guys follow my truck and lets go make a bust,” I said.
“What for?” Simpson asked.
“I’ll explain later,” I said. Then I took off for the GPS location. When we got there, it was a house in the middle of nowhere. It was very easy to surround and we didn’t even stop to invite them to surrender we just went in guns drawn. One of the men in the front room decided he want to point his gun at me. I hit him in the chest with a blast from the over and under. The fight ended right there.
“You may have violated his right ten different ways,” Simpson said.
“You never heard of a Georgia Search Warrant. I yelled police, and somebody said come in. Not sure who it was, but I definitely heard it didn’t you?” I asked.
“I guess I did,” he said.
“I’m sure they all got lawyers, but we put the fear of god into them today. Nothing like letting them see the body of a dead friend. We will remind them downtown that it could have been them. Point a gun at a deputy and die. It’s as simple as that in Warren County.”
“We found drugs in the house,” I told Jamal when we got him downtown. “So my young friend you are going to jail for a long time. Not to mention the murder of the Pakistani clerk in the convenience store. We got more unsolved murders I have you for as well.”
“You can’t prove shit,” he said. “Well let’s begin with the drugs. There are twelve packs of heroin from the convenience store. Now somebody’s finger prints are going to be on them. Then I just get that somebody to roll on you. As for the clerk, we took a half dozen guns from that house. I bet one of them will match up to the bullets we took from the deceased clerk. Then there is the testimony of the kid’s brother that is going to play real good with the jury. Jamal it’s time to put a fork in you. You are done,” I said.
“Oh and before you waste your time on a high priced lawyer, this here is an arrest warrant and this is a search warrant for the property at that GPS location. It was all nice and legal,” I explained.
“Nothing like a judge who has a daughter mixed up in the drug scene and with a black man no less. Sure makes my life easier,” I said. I have a feeling I could trust Simpson.
“Can I get some help from him now and then,” he asked.
“We shall see,” I said.
There were the usual gushing thank you from the family, not. It didn’t matter I cleared all three homicides and I felt good about it, I thought.
Edited by Walt
- The Investigators Day 19
- The Investigators Day 18
- The Investigators Day 17
- The Investigators Day 16
- The Investigators Weekend 3
- The Investigators Day 15
- The Investigators Day 14
- The Investigators Day 13
- The Investigators Day 12
- The Investigators Day 11
- The Investigators Weekend 2
- The Investigators Day 10
- The Investigators Day 9 Part 2
- The Investigators Day 9 Part 1
- The Investigators Day 8
- The End is Near.
- The Investigators Day 7
- The Investigators Day 6
- Investigators Weekend 1
- The Investigators Day 5
- The Investigators Day 4
- The Investigators Day 3
- The Investigators Day 2
- The Investigators Day 1
- Story Note
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- Notes On The Story
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- a ? 4 the readers
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Maxine part 2