Case of the Paper Trail Ch 04
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Case Of The Paper Trail Ch. 03 free porn video
The chronological order of my stories is at the end of the story.
Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, extreme 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 or racist 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.
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Part 12 – The Orange Order
On December 5th, the Town & County Police Department observed a longstanding tradition: on the first Friday of December, every officer, from the Chief to the newest Rookie, wore the Force’s most basic, simple uniform: long-sleeved dark blue Officer’s uniform collared shirt with dark blue tie and ‘T.C.P.D.’ pins on the collars, unadorned dark blue pants and blacks shoes, badge over the left pocket and nameplate on the top of the upper right pocket flap.
Adornments for the Purple Order and Medal of Valor were not worn, nor any special nameplate citations, nor sash belts over the uniform shirts that high-level officers could normally wear. Dark blue uniform duty coats (not dress coats) worn if it was cold outside (and it was). Just the basics. Only in the wearing of our ranks was there any differentiation of any officer from another.
There was some esprit-de-corps in doing this, but for the most part it was because today was ‘Orange Order Day’, and in that respect we were all equal as candidates for the honor. Around 3:45 to 4:00pm, as the shift changed and the vast majority of officers were at the Headquarters, the round-up ceremony would begin, starting a long initiation process for those chosen for induction into the honorary unit.
The entire Town & County knew about it, also, including my favorite redhead reporterette, the one and only Bettina!
‘This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!’ she blared at 7:00am from the steps of City Hall. ‘Later today, the Police Department will begin their traditional induction into their honor fraternity, called the Orange Order. All police officers today are wearing their basic blue uniforms in honor of the occasion, and next week the Fire Department will undergo their honorary inductions. Chief Griswold, a longtime member of the honorary order, will preside over his final induction ceremony this weekend…’
‘We’ll see about that.’ said the Chief as he walked into the MCD room. ‘I’m not presiding over anything but this Police Department.’ The Chief was wearing his basic uniform, which he rarely wore otherwise. I think he secretly liked this tradition.
With him was Captain Leslie Charles. He always wore his basic blue uniform, so there was no difference in his appearance, except he wasn’t wearing his Purple Order ribbon. He was here asking to take pictures of all the Detectives in basic uniforms, as this was just about the only day we all were so similarly dressed. We indulged him, then I ‘invited’ Captain Charles to grab a mug of coffee and chat with the Detectives about police traditions. He indulged us, and he had a rapt, attentive audience.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
At the morning meeting in Classroom ‘E’, Teddy Parker and Theo Washington reported that the vehicles of Harmon Biller, Bill Davis, Charleen Davis and Edna Biller did not match those of the tire impressions found near the crime scene where the bodies were found.
‘We got warrants to make these examinations of the cars.’ said Theo Washington. ‘Only Harmon Biller’s tires are the same size as the impressions, but the tires on Harmon Biller’s truck are relatively new while the tire impressions on the dirt road were from tires that are very worn, almost smooth and without tread. The other cars don’t match in width or type at all.’
‘In fairness, Bill Davis’s car has new tires, but no record on his credit card of buying any tires.’ Teddy Parker said. ‘I did ask Mr. Davis when he got the tires, and he looked at me funny and said he couldn’t remember buying new tires at all.’
‘That’s not so weird, seeing as he can’t remember anything for more than five minutes.’ said Tanya. ‘I wonder if his wife had his tires replaced and didn’t tell him?’
‘Ma’am,’ said Joanne Cummings, ‘the people that stayed with Mr. Davis while Mrs. Davis would be out said that they didn’t let Mr. Davis drive, that his wife was afraid he’d get lost and not make it back home. So I’m sure she tried to keep him from driving unless she was with him, and probably didn’t want him driving at all. So why buy new tires for his car?’
‘Damn good point.’ said Cindy Ross, beginning to be even more impressed with Detective Cummings. ‘And they say we blondes are dumb, eh, Joanne?’
‘Shhh, don’t let the secret get out.’ Joanne said teasingly. Everyone laughed.
‘Guys,’ Cindy said, ‘we’ve got to get on the ball about this. We have means and opportunity for Harmon Biller, we need to just connect the dots and find some motive for why he’d want to kill these women. We also have to either eliminate Bill Davis as a suspect, or find some ‘show cause’ for him as the perp. I want you guys to think about this over the weekend, unless you’re being inducted into the Orange Order tonight. Let your minds flow. Think of something we’ve seen but haven’t put into the right place yet-‘
‘Don’s solved it, hasn’t he?’ Tanya asked, looking into Cindy’s eyes.
‘Yes, he has.’ Cindy replied. ‘And procured the evidence needed for a conviction.’
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Things began getting quiet in the afternoon. Officers with desks or posts went to them, other officers found places to be. For myself, at 2:00pm I went into my office and made an effort to get through as much paperwork as possible. I was not displeased with my progress as the time neared, as I fired off an email to the Chief and the Council recommending several officers for other medals.
The tradition was that Members of the honorary society would put their Orange Order medals on their uniforms over their right pockets, (the normal place for medals to go in the TCPD) and begin walking as a group through the Headquarters picking up the inductees, who would be placed in a line and walk with the Members as they completed their rounds. Anyone on third (night) shift being inducted had been called in, so that they would be there to be picked up.
I began hearing a commotion in the hallway at 3:45pm, which ebbed and rose again in intervals. At 3:55pm the commotion got louder, as if it were in the anteroom to my office. Then came the knock on the door and Corporal Ronnie Kirkpatrick came inside, wearing an Orange Order medal. In the anteroom of my office were Patrolman Hicks, Chief Griswold and Captain Charles, all wearing Orange Order medals.
‘Commander, would you please come with us?’ Kirkpatrick asked, standing nearly at attention.
‘Certainly.’ I said, getting up, very aware of what was happening.
Kirkpatrick motioned for me to walk into the hallway ahead of him. Patrolman Hicks led me to the back of a line of five officers, surrounded by Members. In front of the line was Patrolman Janice Holloway from the Evidence section of Personnel & Records, who had been a good patrol officer on the streets and might one day become a Detective if she wanted to. Next was Sergeant Charles from SWAT, who had been wounded in the ambush that had also nearly cost Cindy Ross her life. Then came Senior Patrolman Chester Morton, and behind him, grinning like a Cheshire Cat when he saw me, was Sergeant Micah Rudistan. Fifth was the aforementioned Lieutenant Cindy Ross, who just gave me a ‘look’ as Patrolman Hicks guided me into the line behind her.
The six of us were escorted in a u-turn to the main conference room. Inside, the Chief addressed us: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, all
ow me to congratulate you. I’m sure you realize by now that you have been voted into the Orange Order by your peers of the Police Department, and your initiation ceremony has just started. I will personally be calling your families and letting them know you will not be coming home tonight, and we’ll be making arrangements for any family needs such as picking up children and the like. Remain silent for now. Have a seat until things get ready.’
It was less than ten minutes later that someone came to get us. We were placed back in line, perhaps coincidentally in the same order as we had been before, and marched down the hall, this time to the main auditorium. It was packed with officers as we were led in the side door and onto the stage.
‘Officers!’ called out Chief Griswold at the podium in front of us. ‘I am honored to introduce to you this year’s inductees into the Orange Order!’ He then read our names. When he finished, the applause in the auditorium was thunderous. A sideways look of my eyes caught Cindy looking stoic, and Micah Rudistan looking as if he were about to perform a prank on someone. I worked hard not to laugh at that.
We were led out of the auditorium and back to the main conference room, where we were told to go get our warm jackets, gloves and headgear for being outside in cold weather. Then we had to wait until the sun was nearly setting.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
We were led to a police van in the parking lot, one used to transport prisoners to County Jail. The windows were painted over, but even so, we were handed blindfolds and told to wear them. The van pulled out.
I treated this as an intellectual exercise, trying to determine where we were going. The course was not designed to confuse us, and I noted we were headed South. I did not know that a police car was clearing the way for us, and that was the reason we were making good time in otherwise rush-hour traffic. I determined that we were south of Town, possibly in or near Junction Station.
When we stopped, we were led inside a building, still blindfolded. The air was getting noticeably colder outside. As we were led forward, I heard voices in front of me, persons challenging those escorting us, and our escorts giving the passwords to admit us into the sanctum of the meeting room. After three such challenges, we were inside a building. Once inside, we stood there, still with blindfolds on for what seemed a very long time. Then I heard the voice of Corporal Kirkpatrick somewhere in front of me.
‘Fellow officers, I congratulate you on this moment.’ he said loudly and clearly. ‘Your presence here shows the respect you have earned from your fellow police officers in the performance of your duties. The votes are not made by those of us within this group, but your peers of the Police Department. I am also pleased to say that one of your names was on every single ballot save one, which would be her own, of course. This is the first time that has happened in five years, and we congratulate Lieutenant Ross.’ There was applause, which I hastened to join in whether I was supposed to or not.
Still blindfolded, we listened to the words of Corporal Kirkpatrick: ‘Centuries ago, citizens of the Netherlands first formed patrols in the streets to stop criminals, the forerunners of our police today. These citizens carried lanterns with green glass, and would hang the lanterns at their gathering places while they were inside. This is why the New York City Police Department and other police forces have green lamps outside their precinct buildings. Our other color is Orange, which color we have taken in honor of the Prince of Orange of the Netherlands.’
‘Tonight, you will walk a Patrol of Honor, in the tradition of those of the Orange Order before you, and in the memory of those police officers and citizen patrols that have served over the centuries before you. There are lanterns in front of you. When you agree to undergo the Patrol of Honor and we remove your blindfold, each of you will take one of the lanterns before you, and you will keep your lanterns with you at all times. If you choose not to undergo the Patrol of Honor, you will be returned to Police Headquarters with no dishonor and no questions asked.’ After a pause, the voice said ‘Prepare yourselves mentally for this task.’
The room was silent for several long moments, with only the scrapings of people moving quietly occasionally being heard. Then I sensed that someone was standing right in front of me. I was right.
‘Donald Troy, are you willing and prepared for the Patrol of Honor?’ the voice said, the person being right in front of me.
‘I am willing and prepared.’ I replied.
I heard another voice, a woman, asking Cindy Ross the same question, and her reply was the same as mine. Four other members asked the four others. After the last one, I felt hands reach up and remove my blindfold.
We were in Junction Station, all right… in fact, we were inside the old Main Depot building, which had been refurbished as a meeting place. The only light was from two lanterns behind a table, which had orange colored glass, and six green-glassed lanterns on the table… one for each of us inductees. There were two round pieces of green-tinted glass in each black metal lantern, in front and back, like railroad lanterns. The light was from the wicks of burning oil in the lanterns, no batteries here!
The sun had set. I noticed that some of the Members had what looked like robes, commensurate with what might have been worn hundreds of years ago on those original patrols. Most of the others were still dressed in police uniforms.
In front of our lanterns were placed large mugs. Someone came along and filled these mugs with beer. Yes, beer. We were told that this was our ‘nourishment’ for the patrol, in the tradition of olden times. I’m not sure of the truth of that, but if it was an opportunity to drink a large mug of beer, it was a good tradition.
After consuming the beer, we were told we had five minutes to use the restroom, get dressed for outdoor weather, and be ready to go. I grabbed my lantern, and Cindy, seeing me, did also. The others did not, and were reprimanded. They were told to half-bow, and they had to keep the half-bow and stand there for three of their five minutes, which I knew would be uncomfortable for them. They were also reminded that their lanterns should not leave their lamps behind again until the initiation was over. I was happy, I got a head start on using the restroom, and endured no pain.
How did I know to grab the lantern? I’d been to U.S. Army Airborne School, and knew all those tricks about ‘break area procedures’. Fool me once…
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
We actually did not start walking immediately, but were driven back into Town, to City Hall. We were paired off, me with Cindy, Rudistan and Morton together, Charles and Holloway together. We would walk our patrols in pairs.
We were led in front of City Hall, facing the Courthouse Square. Our lanterns were lighted, and we were given cigarette lighters to carry with the admonition that our lanterns should not be allowed to stay unlit. If we were running out of oil, our guides would give us more.
Our guides were the ones wearing robes, and there was one with each group. They had orange-colored lanterns. Mine and Cindy’s guide was Captain Harlow from Personnel & Records. I would later find out that she and the other guides were being inducted into the ‘Inner Circle’ of the Order, and this was their initiation ritual coinciding with ours.
The weather was clear and cold as we began the Patrol of Honor. The Courthouse Square was lit up with decorations for the Holiday season, and looked very beautiful. As we walked in a deliberately slow, measured pace, we took the sidewalk on the inside of the streets forming the square. I noticed that citizens of the Town, hundreds of them, had lined the sidewalks on the other side of the road, the outside of
the Square. Many of them had lighted candles, and all stayed silent as they watched our patrol.
We walked around the Square four times, slowly and spaced apart. Then one of the patrols was led off the northwest corner of the Square, heading north. The next patrol went east from the northeast corner. Then Cindy and I were led south from the Southwest corner.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was long, grueling night of walking. Cindy and I went east along Jefferson Avenue, then south to MLK Jr. Drive, and west along that road. I noticed that there were a number of police cruisers along the route, and there were cruisers in front of us and behind us, about 30 yards away each, watching over us. There were some people who watched us as we walked by, but as the night got later, the number of people out began dissipating.
Every two hours we would stop, get our lanterns refilled with oil, be given water and some hot soup, and take restroom breaks. Cindy and I had walked north from MLK Drive, and over time made our way through Town again, completing a loop along Courthouse Square again, then walking northwest. We walked by Ronald Reagan Park, then turned east on a road that paralleled the main east-west road into Town from the bypass. I was keeping watch on Cindy, wondering if she was doing okay… despite her physical conditioning, I knew she had to this day not completely recovered from her wounds. But she seemed to be doing fine, and seemed to be enjoying the long walk.
Some time later, we were walking down University Avenue. I glanced across the street at the School, which seemed peaceful in the night. At the main gate, I looked straight up the mountain, seeing one bluish streetlight far above, on the side of the mountain. That light was the sole guardian of the cleared ruins of where my home The Cabin had stood, which had been burned to the ground by filthy and now-dead arsonists.
I resolved to rebuild, root out the criminals still infesting my Town, and then went back into my mental ‘zone’ as we patrolled, seeing the buildings of the Town and the lights and the streets and the cars, but not really seeing them. I was using this time to try to put the pieces of the puzzle together in my mind, the pieces that would lead to the malignant spider at the center of the criminal web of this County, the one we called the ‘real Moriarty’. I also thought about the Paper Trail case, and it came to me where some evidence might have been discarded. Nothing I could do about that right this minute, though…
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had to be getting nearly dawn, and I realized that we were now walking South along the main road towards Junction Station. I could see the green dots of one of the other groups patrolling about a hundred yards ahead of us. Just as the first threads of light began glowing over Cemetery Hill to our east, reminding me of Officer Pete Feeley, we arrived back at the Junction Station Depot. We waited for the last group to arrive, which happened just moments later, and then we were told to hang our lanterns on the spikes in the wall near the door… to show that we were inside, just as the citizen patrols did centuries before. We did so, then went inside.
The tables were arranged in a rectangle so that we would be sitting as one group at the correct time. There had been 18 Orange Order members, there were now 24.
First, the Inner Circle initiates received their medals. They were the same Orange Order Medals, but had a green stripe down the middle of the drape, bordered in white. The lantern hanging below the drape was orange instead of the standard green. Then the six of us were awarded our medals, which were worn with our other Police Medals on our formal jackets.
We were given the admonitions and passwords, then everyone sat down to the large, home-cooked breakfast. After a long, cold night, it was delicious, especially the hot coffee! And yes, they actually served another mug of beer with our breakfast. I could get to like this Orange Order business, I thought to myself…
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