Cahill

I could hear the din from the bar as I exited my SUV and I was still almost a block away. What a shame! I knew from long experience that would change as soon as my foot crossed the threshold. I tend to have that effect on people. I’m six feet six inches tall and I weigh an even 250 pounds—all of it broad shouldered muscle. My Body Mass Index at my last physical was less than four percent. My light brown hair is styled exactly the way it’s been for the past fifteen years—ever since I first joined the Navy. Sure enough, no sooner had I taken my first step into the bar than the noise died. When I turned left and stepped up to the bar the people there couldn’t back away fast enough. I took a stool in the middle of the empty space and sat down, waiting for the bartender to approach. “I’m not looking for any trouble.” “Good…neither am I. Give me a ginger ale.” He reached under the bar for a glass and some ice. Twenty seconds later he slid the glass in my direction. I pulled a fiver from my pocket and dropped it on the bar. He ignored it and walked away to draw a few beers and pour some wine. It looked to me like this was a pretty cheap crowd. Checking up and down the bar all I could see were longnecks and drafts. I reached into the lower left pocket of my cargo pants. Like almost everything else I was wearing they were a true deep navy blue. My heavy shoes were black as was my wide belt. My belt said as much about me as the bold white lettering across my chest. Just below the American flag over my heart were the letters that were my life—U. S. MARSHAL. On my right hip was my nickel plated .44 Magnum Colt Python, just behind two speed loaders in addition to the twenty-four rounds on the belt. On my left hip was my ASP Talon baton—every bit as deadly a weapon in my hands as the revolver. A pouch at the back of my right hip held my stainless steel handcuffs and its partner on the opposite side held my radio—my link to my backup team. I placed the photo flat on the bar as the bartender returned to me. “I’ll have another,” I said in a loud voice, continuing so I wouldn’t be overheard. “Don’t pick it up and don’t make a production of looking at it. I’ve been told that he comes here a lot. Is he here tonight? If he is and he escapes because you’ve given me away I’ll see to it that you’re arrested for obstruction of justice.” He gulped a few times but did as he was told, nodding slightly in response. I continued almost at a whisper. “If my nose is pointing to twelve o’clock, my right ear to three, the back of my head to six, and my left ear to nine, tell me where he is. Again, don’t point or do anything obvious and we’ll be fine.” He pretended to wipe the bar as he whispered, “About 4:30 with his back to you.” I picked up the reflection in the mirror then asked, “Red shirt with black and white stripes, looking away from me?” He nodded again. Now, in my normal tone of voice I asked, “Where’s the men’s room?”

Fredrick_Udele · แฟนตาซี

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69 Chs

CHAPTER 33

The next week was quiet at work until late Friday afternoon when I received a critical phone call from Julia Adams. "We got a lot from our bugs last night, but we can't identify the people in the discussion. Do you know anyone who might be able to help us?" I did, but I was reluctant to get my wife involved. We were at the pool Saturday morning with Daryl when I told them that I needed to talk in the strictest confidence. "Lucy, do you remember when I wouldn't tell you about an investigation I was getting involved in?"

"Yes, you told me that I had to trust you."

I put my arms around her and held her for a few precious moments. "I did that because I was afraid you might say something accidentally to the wrong person and put yourself in danger. I can tell you now that Jeremy Haynes is involved in selling drugs. The state police have him on audio and video making a big sale about two weeks ago. The guy he sold to is an informant for the State Police. They used the information from that sale to tap his phones and bug his house. Last night there was a big discussion about a major buy, but they don't know the players. It was a moonless night and there were no lights on around the house.

'I really don't want you involved in this mess, but you're the only person I know who might be able to identify their voices. You're also the only person I know other than Daryl who I can trust with this information."

Lucy was pensive for a few minutes before replying. "I hate drugs, Matt. They've been making inroads into our community for a while, but the last year has been by far the worst. We actually had two kids in our high school overdose and die. I knew both of them and their families. What do I have to do?" I called Julia and made an appointment for Sunday morning thinking that I'd take Lucy to lunch with Paul McCormick. I also had to change another appointment. Rather than cancel my talk at the Bascomb's Landing AME Church, Pastor Michaels suggested I go before services then leave in time to make my 11:00 appointment.

>>>>>>

We left our house at 9:10 with Max in the rear seat and drove across town to the church, arriving ten minutes early for the 9:30 services. Pastor Anthony Michaels was at the entrance to greet us with a handshake for me and a hug and kiss for Lucy as he congratulated us on our marriage. He accompanied us up the aisle and seated us in the front pew before taking position at the pulpit where he introduced me. "We have a bit of non-church business I'd like to conduct before our service begins today. I want to introduce our new Chief of Police…Matt Cahill."

I stepped forward to shake the Pastor's hand once again then I stood behind the microphone. "I originally planned with Pastor Michaels to speak in the middle of your service today, but I have to be in Memphis by 11:00 this morning to meet with the State Police and a State Attorney. That this meeting is taking place on a Sunday should tell you that it is critically important. I want to tell you that major changes are occurring at your police force. I could not believe that in a city where roughly forty percent of the citizens are African-American there was not even a single black officer, nor was there a single female uniformed officer.

"I'm here to tell you that I intend to recruit minority officers starting right now. I see that my lieutenant, Daryl Evans has just arrived so Daryl please come up and join me. Jasmine sat next to Lucy and Daryl took a few steps to my side. "In the past, who you knew was more important than what you knew when it came to getting a job as a police officer in this city. No more! In most cities and counties candidates must pass a competitive exam with only the highest scores being selected for training. That's what we are going to do here. Those selected will participate in the police academy in Memphis before taking their places in our police force here.

"Now…I must tell you that being a minority won't get you any breaks on the exam, but Daryl and I will teach test prep classes right here in your church hall three nights a week for several months prior to the exams. I have a feeling that I know what you are thinking—I got my job because I married Lucille Bascomb and you'd be partly right. Lucy did ask me if I would be interested, but I think you'll agree that I'm qualified. After high school I spent four years in the military police for the Navy. Then I spent three years at the University of North Carolina getting a Bachelor's Degree in Criminology. That was followed by ten years as a U. S. Marshal, taking on some of the most difficult cases and earning an arrest rate of more than seventy-five percent. I met Daryl Evans at UNC when we were taking some of the same courses. He was an MP in the Navy for three and a half years and he also has his Bachelors in Criminology. He then spent more than eight years as a Marshal. We've worked on a number of cases together and I know how intelligent and perceptive he is. He's also the finest man I've ever met. That's why he was selected as my second-in-command. It's also why he was my best man yesterday morning. I'll give Pastor Michaels a schedule as soon as I have one. I have time for a few questions before we have to leave."

There are always a few questions. Today they were on target. One gentleman asked why there were never any police in their neighborhood. "I have permission from the City Council to set up two substations—one in the east end and another in the west end near this church. We want to have a police presence throughout the city. One of the things we plan to work on is setting up community watch programs and providing vehicles for citizens to use when on patrol. We don't want you to try to apprehend criminals because that can be dangerous, but we do want your eyes and ears. All of us know that black on black crime is a major problem in our country. We want that to stop. We've had too many black victims."

The next one I let Daryl answer. "The basic qualifications are simple—a candidate must have a high school diploma and must speak English. A second language like Spanish would be a big plus. He or she—and we are hoping to get some female candidates—cannot have any serious psychological problems. We obviously do not want to give someone who is unstable or who is biased against any race or religion a gun, nor do we want someone to think that he/she has a license to kill. It goes without saying that a record of criminal convictions would disqualify a candidate. That's about it."

Questions went on for more than fifteen minutes until Pastor Michaels called an end. I thanked him and the congregation for giving us the opportunity to meet with them. I was pleased when we left to enthusiastic applause.

>>>>>>

I drove down to Memphis in near record time for our 11:00 appointment. One of Julia's aides showed us to a conference room, asking if we wanted coffee. There was a pitcher of ice water on a nearby table so we opted for that. Julia entered a few minutes later with a young man she introduced as an audio technician. He wheeled in a large cart with a digital recorder/player.

The recordings were extremely clear and we could hear their plans easily. Lucy had no trouble identifying the voices. The first one was none other than Carl Haynes. "I don't know why you had to pick now of all times to fucking retire, Joe. Now we have these two ex-marshals hanging around and he's thrown Jeremy off the force. And there will be more with these stupid performance standards."

"I had to quit. You know that. My wife is sick and we need to move to a hot dry climate. I should stay here to help you and kill my wife? I'm only in this for the stake I need to relocate."

"Don't worry about that asshole Cahill. I'll take care of him at the right time and that Bascomb bitch, too. Have any of you seen that spade he convinced the council to hire?"

There were no affirmations so the first voice continued. "We have to get this big shipment in before Cahill really takes over, then we can bide our time until we can handle him." Lucy asked to have the tape stopped then.

"The first voice belongs to Carl Haynes, Jeremy's father. God knows I've heard it often enough at Council meetings. The third, I'm sure you realize, is Jeremy Haynes, his son and formerly one of Bascomb's Landing's finest. That's no surprise, but the second one is. That's Joe Wilson who used to be the chief of police." That's what I was thinking, but it was good to get confirmation.

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