Sheriff Porter 19
I waited until they went through the cheerleader’s computer and Jamison’s as well. Nothing told us who Lucy was with that night. Nothing told us who anyone was with for the last week. Jamison only updated the files weekly. So the prick still had something to deal. That must have been his thinking. He had planned that it would be about the kiddie prostitution and maybe porn, but he never planned on murder.
Accessory after the fact of murder was going to be quite an incentive to talk his head off. If he chose not to do so, he would never again see the light of day. Not only would he be going inside, but he would be going inside as a kiddie pimp. Life would be a bitch for him, at the very least.
“Eddie, don’t count on Jamison. Call Mission, if she hasn’t raided that club, we can try to talk to the club manager. If she has, maybe we can get a half hour alone with him,” I suggested.
While Eddie did that, Osborn and I went out to round up the girls on the cheerleader’s computer. Jamison coded them on his computer as the names of fruit. You know like apple orange pear etc. The Cheerleader had them by name on her computer. Her contact with them seemed limited to the computer after their training.
We had five girls in the office when Eddie said, “Mission hasn’t raided the club yet. We can leave right now and get there before they do. They are going in this evening,” he said.
“You stay here to question the girls, I’ll go down and pick up the manager,” I suggested.
“You can’t pick him up. We have no jurisdiction down there,” he reminded me.
“No, but he can agree to ride with me. He might want to come up here for questioning,” I suggested. Eddie looked skeptical as well he might.
“Sheriff you do know, you have to read him his rights before you question him. He is going to lawyer up, and you will have wasted your time going down there?” Eddie asked.
“You could well be right, then again maybe not. He might want to avoid the murder charge,” I said.
“Well, all I can say is good luck,” Eddie said.
“Thanks,” I replied.
“You want me to come along,” Osborn asked.
“No thanks that truck is too small for more than two of us,” I said.
From the entrance hall of the courthouse I made a call and talked for about five minutes. I headed out to Abbottsville for a drive of about thirty minutes. It took me five more minutes to find the manager of the club. I had no idea who the owner was, but the manager would know what was going on in the club. The owners might or might not. Either way I felt pretty sure I would know soon.
“Remember me,” I asked.
“Yeah, you butt fucked on tape. I gave all the copies to your boyfriend,” he said.
“You don’t think I believe that do you?” I asked. “That’s not why I’m here. You have about two minutes to follow me out to my truck. If you want to avoid an arrest for aiding and abetting prostitution follow me and we will have enough time to work something out. If not you are going with the SBI,” I said.
“Why you doing this?” he asked.
“Let’s say we have a mutual friend in Miami,” I replied. “You coming?”
He followed me out to the parking lot. The timing couldn’t have been better. I didn’t know the SBI would be rolling in when they did, but they drove up as we pull out of the parking lot in my truck.
“Now you are coming with me to be questioned in the death of Lucy Martinez,” I said.
“Like hell,” he said. I shouldn’t have enjoyed shoving the .22 mag revolver in his ribs but I did. I also pulled onto the shoulder of the interstate highway.
“Suit yourself. Come with me or go with the State Bureau of Investigation. All I want to know about is Lucy. If you weren’t involved you get a head start getting out of the state,” I said.
“Why don’t we do it right here?” he asked.
“I need an official statement from you. If you weren’t involved you can go,” I said.
“Okay, but you cuff me in front. It’s a long ride up to County Seat,” he said.
“Sure why not,” I replied. I also ran the cuffs through the seat belt. “You will note the noise that seat belt made when it closed. It makes the same noise when it opens. If I hear that noise before we got to the courthouse, I’m going to shoot you. Are we clear?”
“Yeah, I get it. That friend of yours with the accent made it clear that you guys don’t play around. Then there was that call from the Miami crowd that owns the club, saying to stop antagonizing you. I don’t know which one was more menacing,” he said.
“Well it is hard to say,” I said. The phone rang. “Our ETA is about ten to twenty minutes. Thanks.’
“Who was that?” he asked.
“Just one of the guys in the office,” I declared.
“I turned off at the second exit for County Seat, then instead of turning toward town I turned toward the regional reservoir.
“Is this the way to the downtown,” the club manager asked.
“We are going to make one stop first. I thought you might want to talk without all those cameras and microphones picking it all up. We just want to discuss Lucy Martinez, but you know how other stuff might come up. You nor I want our complete relationship to come to the surface,” I said.
“Yes, I suppose you are right,” he said.
That explanation held all the way till we pulled into the overlook. The overlook held four benches for people to enjoy the views of the lake. They also held metal trash cans secured by thick chains to a post set in concrete. I held the club manager at gunpoint while I cuffed him to one of the chains attached to the post.
“So now we talk. You need to tell me who Lucy was with the night she died,” I said.
“I honestly don’t know,” he said looking at his handcuffed wrist. When the big black SUV pulled into the parking lot he looked relieved. He looked at me and smiled as if he had won some kind of game.
I just looked at him as the doors on the SUV opened and two men wearing ski masks got out of the vehicle. “You know you are a lucky man. We are going to find out what we want to know, then you are going to run like hell for the border or where ever assholes run these days.”
“I don’t know anything,” he said.
I nodded to the largest of the men in the ski hoods. He placed his backpack on the bench. From it he removed a pair of garden pruners and a propane torch.
“Frankly friend, you don’t look like you will last more than a couple of joints of a couple of fingers, but I have been wrong before,” I said.
“You can’t do this you are a cop,” he said.
“You are right I am, but alas these gentlemen aren’t. Also we are not in Warren County and I have no jurisdiction, so I couldn’t legally stop them, even if I wanted to do so,” I explained.
“So the first question, how do you know Jamison?” I asked. As a matter of principle he didn’t want to answer.
“I ain’t tellin’ you shit. This is all a bluff.” Liam didn’t even warn him first. He just cut off the tip of his pinkie finger. He very quickly hit it with the blowtorch cauterizing it immediately. I kept an eye on him to make sure he didn’t go into shock. He just screamed. The men in black let him scream. Just to show him there was no help coming.
“How did you say you knew Jamison?” I asked again.
“I met him when he came to the club. He had some crazy scheme to get me some teenage hookers. I didn’t believe him,” he said.
“Now Jamison was trying to franchise his little scheme wasn’t he?” I asked.
“Yes, he had a deal worked out with the guy from Miami. They were about to try it a couple of other places,” he said.
“Now for the jackpot question, who killed Lucy?” I asked.
“She left the club with some guy who said he would take her home,” he said.
“Who was the man?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” He said it, but he couldn’t look me in the eye. I nodded to Liam, who reached for his hand again.
“No, no please, I don’t know him but that black whore, the one you knew, can tell you who he is. He fucks her now and then. I guess he wanted some white pussy.”
“I thought the girls only did blow jobs?” I said.
“Yeah, but we all know that is just bullshit. They were eventually going to do it all, so why not him,” the man said.
“Well, I want to thank you for your information. Now just to be sure, you aren’t fucking with me, I want to know everything you and Jamison did, and all you know about the man who left with Lucy. Now talk to me.” He did, once he got started, we had a hell of a time shutting him up.
“Well I guess that’s all I need from him. You guys can take it from here,” I said. They gave him a shot in the neck and he went out like a bad light bulb.
“So you get the transfer set up?” I asked.
“Yeah, but you don’t need to do that we are right here. We can handle it,” Liam said.
“No, we are not murders,” I said.
“Not even you believe that,” Liam said with a laugh. “But we will make the transfer somewhere in South Carolina.”
“Good, and I’m finally healthy enough,” I said.
“You have been healthy enough. You have also been consumed with this thing. So call me when we can get together.” Liam had taken the hood off when the club manager conked out. I could see his smile when he said it.
“You still want to do the rest of it?” Liam asked.
“We have to do it,” I said. I drove the red truck back to the gas station at the plaza. I pulled up to a tank where I knew they had cameras. The big Black SUV pulled up behind me. They got out with their hoods on. Liam knocked the crap out of me and I went down. They sprayed the camera lens then took the unconscious club manager out of my truck and put him in theirs. They flashed their AKs at the customers, so that was the only thing they all remembered.
The were gone before the 911 calls went out. The Warren County Deputies came to investigate. I cooperated completely. Then the SBI showed up and I cooperated again.
Meanwhile Liam handed the club manager over to the Miami Mafia. They either retired him to some quiet place, or retired him to the waters off Miami. As they said in the movie, “he sleeps with the fish.”
“Did you find out all you need to know before they kidnapped him,” Osborn asked.
“We had a fruitful talk. That’s all I have to say,” I replied.
“I knew Mission would never believe me, but there was no way to disprove it, I hoped. I went home after the episode and tried to sleep till the next day when I could see who was left standing to interrogate.
Edited by Walt