Protecting the King ch 8
~ ~ Lester – Day 5 – Evening Sunday ~ ~
Lester twisted his chair to the left, stopped himself with his right palm to the table top and pushed off to twist to the right. This time his left palm slapped the top of the conference table, pushed off, and steered him to the left again. Just because he could sit still for hours in the field didn't mean he'd do it anywhere else. Right now, he had some pent up energy to burn off. This situation with his cousin had him worried and until they had a clear target, he had no other outlet for his need to act.
"Have you got them synced up?" Tank's chair creaked as he leaned back.
"Si," Hector didn't look up, but continued to work on the laptop "Solo un minuto."
The three of them plus Cal, Ram, and Hal were pulled up to the oval table in the small conference room on the first floor. It comfortably seated eight and was the right size for client consultations or group strategy sessions. The laptop on the table was connected to a set of monitors on the side wall.
The two people identified by Medium Chad at the track were Detective Simpkins and Player's Lieutenant Abner "Avie" Vickers. Both men had paid multiple visits to Player in the past few months. Avie had sent his girlfriend Venetia as his go-between since his felony rap sheet made him ineligible to visit. Simpkins didn't bother with subterfuge but signed in under his own name, bold as you please.
Having each man show up on the prison's visitor's list could have been coincidence. But having both of them also meeting at the track? Definitely part of something larger. Of course, as a detective, Simpkins could just say that he was talking to an informant. Thanks to Medium Chad's tip, and the security footage they were able to get, they now knew there was much more going on.
Ram and Cal had obtained the video from several cameras at the harness racing track over in Freehold. Hector, Ram, and Hal had already gone over the raw data, marking the parts that had Simpkins, Avie, Sweats, or Medium Chad. Now, the video from each camera would play at the same time, showing the movements around the track. Even better, there was audio. It was low quality but better than nothing.
Hector looked up to address the guys. "Simpkins got to the track over two hours earlier than Avie. He spent all his time making wagers at this track plus it looks like he's doing some online transactions as well. This will start when Avie arrives."
With that Hector set the recordings in motion.
The main room of the club house at the track had betting windows along the back wall and a lunch counter across the room. In between there was a dining area with a variety of chairs and tables. Simpkins was ensconced at a small table close to the betting windows. There was a paper plate piled with crumpled napkins across from him. Avie Vickers approached from the right side of the screen. From the casual nod and handshake, to Avie pulling up a chair and plonking himself down, it was clear they were familiar with each other.
A large space with lots of activity made it difficult to get audio. The background buzz and ambient noise coming through squashed voices.
"I'll mute audio from all the feeds except the one where the action is as we watch. I filtered out what I could and enhanced the rest," said Hector. "It's still hard to hear. Lo siento."
Avie spoke first. "You sure this guy is the snitch?"
Simpkins nodded. "He's named in the report. One of Manoso's frequent flyers. There's a photo of him too. I couldn't get the info out of the system – almost got caught and I'm not gonna risk it again – but I can eyeball him for you."
"Good." Avie looked pleased. "Then he can go down for betraying Player and we take Manoso out of the way at the same time." He laughed "Like one of those two-for-one deals. And you don't get exposed for your part in this organization."
Simpkins frowned and opened his mouth to speak. Avie cut him off with a hand wave and pulled a phone from his pocket. He typed in something short and quick.
"He's here," said Avie. "I'll text you when I get to him. You get close enough to take a gander at him without him seeing you. Then I'll meet you back here."
Avie left. Simpkins started pulling over two hours worth of accumulated betting slips from his pockets and scattered them on the table. Finally, he pulled a handkerchief out of a coat pocket and patted his forehead. At that time, Medium Chad came into frame and from there, it went as he had described it to Lester.
Meanwhile, at the same time on the other screens, Avie was meeting with Sweats in an outdoor area, just at the edge of camera range. The image was blurry but identifiable. Avie pulled his phone out for a minute right before going over to Sweats. He was probably sending a text to Simpkins.
This part of the video was even harder to hear, but there were enough discernible words to guess that Avie was offering Sweats an opportunity to make money as a courier. To his credit, Sweats immediately turned it down if it had to do with drugs or guns. Avie assured him it would only be messages. Sweats looked doubtful but agreed. Avie said he'd be in touch.
As he returned to the tables, Avie caught up with Simpkins who assured him that Sweats was definitely the snitch. They watched as Avie taunted Simpkins for wanting out. Medium Chad slipped away without drawing attention to himself. Shortly after that, Avie left. The video ended.
"Simpkins spent another hour playing the ponies and apparently losing," said Hector. "He didn't meet with anyone else or speak to anyone on the phone"
"Well," said Tank. "This is all kinds of not good."
He looked more somber than Lester had seen in a long while but who could blame him? Not only was there a conspiracy to take down Ranger and Rangeman, but there was a dirty cop in the middle of it.
Player was only a small to mid-range criminal in the national and international gun running enterprise that the ATF had been tracking. But locally, he was a pretty big deal from Newark to Philly. If he had one corrupt cop in Newark, how many others did he have and where? Trenton? Hamilton Township? Philly?
And why would Simpkins quit his job in Newark and start over with the Trenton PD? Lester had looked at that move from every angle but couldn't see the logic. Everyone kept referring to it as a transfer but they were two separate police departments. He would literally have to apply as a new hire at Trenton then quit his job at Newark. Trenton had a much smaller police presence than Newark, giving less opportunity for advancement, and the change meant that he'd lose his seniority. What could he possibly have to gain?
Lester had an idea of how to proceed, but he wasn't sure how much support he'd get. Before he could speak up, Tank continued.
"Since this is a follow-on from Player's arrest, we need to notify the ATF." There was a general grumbling in the room. Tank rapped his knuckles on the table. "Settle down. You know the protocol. It's written right into the contract. If additional issues arise from the subject of the contract, they are to be notified. They will likely want to take the lead as well."
Lester folded his arms across his chest and slouched in his chair. He could see Hal and Cal frowning and Ram was doing that thing with his thumb and forefinger he did when he wasn't happy with something.
The ATF meant additional resources which Lester appreciated. It also meant additional scrutiny and adherence to legal precepts which he did not, especially when Ranger's life was on the line. Also, the more he watched Avie move on screen, the more Lester was convinced that he was the man in black who had shot Sweats.
"What are we going to do about the cop?" asked Cal. "Turn him in to TPD? To ATF? Wait and get more on him?"
"The ATF will be made aware of his involvement when they're brought up to speed on these events." Tank paused. "It may be best that they determine the course of action and not us. That way we avoid creating any animosity between Rangeman and the local police with the accusation of corruption."
Sensing an opening, Lester said, "How about we get a liaison from TPD on this after we call in the ATF?"
That got him a hard look from Tank, a thoughtful one from Hector, and non-committal grunts from the others.
Lester sat up, leaning his elbows on the table. "I'm thinking we have Morelli join us – no, now, hear me out." He waited for everyone to quiet down. "Morelli is an arrogant prick but he's a decent cop. Moreover, he doesn't like a dirty one. I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts, he's already got his suspicions about Simpkins or he wouldn't have done what he did when Ranger was taken in."
"You've got a point there," admitted Cal. "That would definitely explain him saying all that he did. And half the time, even though he was looking at Ranger, it seemed like he was talking to Simpkins. Warning him to do it by the book and that he'd be watching."
"I've watched him at some of our joint crime scenes," added Ram. "He's careful with evidence and quick to see what story it tells. He's still a jerk but he's not an idiot."
Lester was glad to see Hal nodding along in apparent agreement as they spoke. Hector seemed neutral but then again, he didn't have a great history with cops of any kind. Tank might be leaning his way but he wasn't there yet.
"Hector, have we checked for IAD files on Simpkins yet?" asked Lester.
"No - I will make that a priority," replied Hector. "Newark is more likely to have something than Trenton."
Lester shook his head. "I suggest we hold off for now." He faced Tank. "We tell Morelli we've got evidence of corruption. Ask him to join forces. Bring us the IAD file, and whatever else he has. If we need to use our ATF backing to get it, we will."
Tank rubbed one hand over his mouth. "I can't see Morelli liking the thought of working with us much less letting us get a peek at the unsavory side of the police department."
"I agree he won't like it but again that's where our ATF connection could force his hand. The Feds outrank local police. They can absolutely bring him and the chief to heel." Glancing around he saw nods of assent from the others. He looked back at Tank who finally jerked his chin down once.
"Okay," said Tank. "I'll call the ATF. Lester, be prepared to contact Morelli. The rest of you, I want a full transcript of what we just saw, including actions and time stamps, not just speech. The arraignment is tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully our man will be here soon after."
Lester left the conference room. It was late, but before he grabbed a bite to eat there was another video he needed to find. He wouldn't use it, at least not yet, since Carlos was so adamant about it. But Lester wanted to have it if they needed a last minute Hail Mary life saver. Carlos could yell at him all he wanted later. Lester knew that Stephanie would agree to use it and that's all that mattered.
~ ~ Stephanie Day 6 Morning, Monday ~ ~
By Monday morning, Stephanie had worked herself up into a temper. She was tired of nobody listening to her. It was ridiculous for Ranger to sit in jail when it was so easy to prove his innocence. Damn him and his overprotective streak. It was stupid and chauvanistic and archaic and kind of chivalrous but in a bad way. It was a dismissive pat on the head and a "Don't worry, little lady" straight from the 1950s.
How could she ever live with herself if she let something happen to him because she was too embarrassed for the lawyers to see what they'd been up to? And it was embarrassing to think that people would see her in such an intimate moment, clothed or not. She felt vulnerable and defensive but no matter how uncomfortable she may get about people seeing her, that paled in comparison to the ruination of Ranger, Rangeman, and all of the Merry Men. It would be incredibly selfish to put herself first above all of them.
So she was going to do something about it. There had to be a video somewhere. Maybe from the store they were behind. Maybe from a house or business around them. She'd have to go knocking on doors and sweet talk her way in. But once she had the video, then what? She'd thought about that all night.
Stephanie definitely couldn't take it to Ranger's lawyer because Ranger would just tell him not to use it. Same with giving it to Lester. She could tell that he wanted to use her alibi but he wouldn't unless Ranger agreed.
Morelli wouldn't want to hand it over to anyone either. Everyone at TPD and in the courts thought of her as his girlfriend. There's no way he'd want anyone to see her fooling around with Ranger. And he really wouldn't want to be the guy handing over video proof that his sometimes girlfriend was making out with his rival.
Morelli and Lester both had warned her away from Simpkins and for once she'd heed that advice. She hadn't met the man herself, or she'd have used her own spidey sense, but they both had good instincts and if their spidey senses were telling them Simpkins was bad, then he was bad. If she gave him the video, he'd probably destroy it just to protect himself from charges of false arrest or something. Or maybe he'd destroy it because he was out to get Ranger for some reason. She wished she knew what was going on there.
That left the prosecutor. Eddie had told her it was an assistant district attorney named Cynthia Cartman. Surely, she'd drop the charges once she saw that Ranger had an airtight alibi?
Stephanie had looked her up online. Cynthia was in her mid-forties with straight dark brown hair and light brown eyes. Her hair was parted in the middle and styled in a plain bob that came just below her jawline. Stephanie thought the style was too severe and not very flattering. Cynthia had an office at the Mercer County Prosecutor's building on Broad Street.
Stephanie had set her alarm for 8:30 this morning but was so eager to get started that she woke minutes before it was supposed to go off. She showered, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and ate a bowl of cereal for breakfast. A bit of light makeup topped off an outfit of black slacks, mid-heel black boots, and a deep blue blouse with a three-quarter length sleeve. She even put on a silver necklace with a small oval pendant and matching earrings. She had to look professional, trustworthy, for this to work.
The plan was to scour the area around where her car broke down, look for security cameras and knock on doors asking to see the video. A couple of flash drives were tucked into her pocket. Hopefully, she'd be able to transfer the data to the drive and pass that along. If she had to, she'd play the video on the security system's monitor and film it with her cell phone. It wouldn't be ideal but it should at least get the idea across. Then someone with better tech skill than her could get the source video.
The first place she tried was the bicycle shop she'd parked behind. When Stephanie arrived there were two employees there, a man and a woman, and one customer. The woman, a trim young lady named Sarah, came over to help her. Not wanting to put her personal business out there unless she had to, Steph had come up with a story about a fender bender and needing video for the insurance. Sarah was sympathetic because her car had been badly damaged by a hit and run a few years back.
When she saw the video, Stephanie was glad she hadn't spilled the truth to Sarah. The image was grainy and dark and the angle was all wrong. The whole side of her vehicle was facing the camera, entirely blocking the view of Ranger's Porsche and what was going on between the two cars. Her car was tall enough that the top of her head barely showed. Even Ranger was only visible from the eyes up when he was looking forward. The minute he looked down, all that was visible was his hair. Unless you already knew who you were looking at, you couldn't tell who it was. It was basically useless.
She had to fight back unexpected tears. She had convinced herself that all she had to do was waltz in and the perfect proof would fall right into her hand - the disappointment nearly overwhelmed her. Sarah offered to let her make a copy anyway "just in case" it might help. With Sarah's help, Steph downloaded the clip onto one of the flash drives, then headed out.
Standing at the back of the business, where her POS car had been, she scanned the surrounding area. Years ago, when 33rd street was widened, it cut diagonally through a square block leaving the triangular piece of land the shop was on. The longest side, where the front of the shop was, faced 33rd Street. The other two sides of the lot made up one corner of an ordinary 4-way intersection. With her back to the shop, the corners to her right and straight across were part of the residential neighborhood.
The corner to her left, however, had a newer one story commercial building. There was paved parking with a handful of spaces directly in front of it. Wide grassy areas surrounded the building and were bordered by a six-foot tall chain link fence. The big sign over the door had cheerful drawings of cats and dogs. She recognized the name as the animal rescue that Tank would sometimes foster kittens through. Rangeman supported the rescue with regular donations but also supplied and maintained a state of the art security system at no charge. Even better, she could see at least one camera that pointed directly to where she was standing.
She entered the rescue, waiting in line behind a family in the middle of adopting an older cat and another family wanting to look at the available dogs. There were three ladies of varying ages behind the counter, all wearing purple t-shirts with the name of the rescue printed in white. The woman who waited on her was somewhere in age between her mother and Grandma Mazur. She was taller than Grandma and plump. Her salt and pepper hair was cut very short in a pixie style and her faded blue eyes had a hint of mischief in them.
Stephanie was halfway through her story about the hit and run when the lady interrupted her.
"Oh! I know you! You're Edna's granddaughter, Stephanie." She held out her hand. "Millie Debrowski. Pleased to meet you."
"Oh, um. Hi." The interruption threw her for a second but the ingrained Burg etiquette kicked in, Stephanie shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you, too."
Millie dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, tell me, what are you really here for? I'd be glad to help the famous bounty hunter."
Steph thought it over for a moment. Millie already knew who she was and if the video was clear, she'd also know that Stephanie wasn't looking for any hit and run vehicle. Better to come clean now.
Stephanie whispered back. "I need the video to prove someone innocent of a murder charge."
Millie gasped and put her hand to her throat. "It's that gorgeous young man of yours isn't it? The one who gives us the security equipment? And his giant friend takes the little kittens to nurture and love. Oh this is exciting!"
The older lady got a surprisingly strong grip on Stephanie's hand and dragged her through a door marked "staff only". They went down a hallway to a small room with a monitor and other equipment that Stephanie recognized as a Rangeman security system.
"Here you go, sweetie." Millie logged into the system then stepped aside to give Stephanie access. "I must say, when I heard that nice young man was arrested I knew it had to be a mistake. I don't care what that awful online video shows. That Ranger fellow fights on the side of Good, not Evil. I take it that he was over here at the time of the murder?"
Stephanie brought up the recorded feed from Tuesday evening and could see the back of her vehicle pointed at the camera. The date and time showed prominently across the bottom of the screen. Even though it was dark, the image was clear and the sound was crisp. She fast forwarded until she saw herself limping back after her debacle with the tree. She hadn't realized how bedraggled she'd looked.
She hit play and listened long enough to tell that the audio was faint due to distance but clear. Fast forward again until Ranger's arrival. The Porsche pulled up parallel to her Chevy, but facing the camera, its headlights overwhelming the video until Ranger shut them down. From the moment he stepped out of the Porsche, he was identifiable. There was no doubt as to where Ranger had been at the time of the murder. The view of the two of them was from the side and unobstructed.
She watched, mesmerized as their banter from that night replayed in front of her. When things escalated she flushed, remembering exactly how it felt when he touched her. She couldn't take her eyes off the two of them. Holy Hannah but they looked hot together.
"Oh my!" Millie's cheeks flushed pink. "You do take after Edna, don't you?"
Embarrassed, Stephanie hit stop and somehow made it worse. The scene froze into a still picture of Stephanie pressed against her car, head tossed back, her curls floating around her face that was lit with desire. Ranger's thick thigh was between her legs and his face just above her breasts, one large strong hand cupping her ass.
Millie fanned herself and began repeating "Oh, my!" under her breath.
As quickly as she could, Stephanie copied the portion of video she needed onto the blank flash drive and onto the drive with the dud images from the bike store. She'd give the first to the prosecutor and keep the second for herself as a backup in case the first was "accidentally" lost or destroyed.
Her cheeks were still warm but now it was from shame. Reminding herself that she'd have to get used to the idea of a few people knowing about this if she wanted to clear Ranger's name, she squared her shoulders and tried to act naturally.
"Thank you, Millie. Can you make sure that nothing happens to the original?"
"Oh, yes! I'll keep it safe," Millie assured her. Her eyes were shining, her smile nearly from ear to ear. "I must say, I've always envied Edna and her adventures with you and now I'm part of one. It's so exciting!"
Stephanie felt awkward. She had no idea what to say but it seemed she didn't need to worry about that. Millie escorted her out the front door, chattering all the while about adventures. Finally, she was back in her car and ready for the next step – handing over the evidence.
When she got to the Mercer County Prosecutor's office, she found a parking spot not too far from the door. Walking toward the building she noticed a woman in a navy suit with a pencil skirt and sensible black pumps coming toward her. A large leather briefcase hung from one shoulder and what looked like a genuine Prada bag hung from the other. The jewelry on her neck, ears, and wrists was understated but looked like real gold and diamonds. As she got closer, she realized it was Cynthia Cartman. Stephanie stepped in front of her. Cynthia halted, looked Stephanie over and seemed unimpressed.
This was difficult enough to do, but in the face of this negative attitude, she really had to force herselt to speak. "Hi, Ms. Cartman. My name is Stephanie Plum and I have evidence proving that Ranger Manoso couldn't have killed that man."
"I know who you are, Ms. Plum. Thanks to your antics, all of Trenton is familiar with you." Cynthia replied, a slight sneer evident in her voice.
Stephanie was taken aback by the nasty edge to the words. "I have video proof that Ranger was somewhere else at the time that man was killed."
"I'm sure you think you do," Cynthia condescended.
"Ranger was with me at the time." She held up the flash drive. "I have video proof and I'm willing to make a statement."
Cynthia looked impatient and tried to step around her. "Hearsay evidence is not admissible."
"It's not hearsay. This is my direct testimony and I have video to back it up." Hearsay would be if she testified to what someone else said they had seen or done, wasn't it? Not what she herself had seen or done? Steph's stomach started to churn. This wasn't going at all how she expected.
Cynthia sounded bored as she said, "We certainly can't take random video clips as evidence."
"You did when you used that anonymous video that's online right now with the shooting. Why can't you take something from me?" Her spidey sense began tingling.
Now Cynthia looked angry. Her eyes were narrowed and her mouth was hard. "Bombshell Bounty Hunter. Think you'll just swoop in and save the day. At least this time nothing's blown up or burned down. You're not as good as you think you are, you know. You leave a wake of destruction everywhere you go. Anyone else would have been arrested for arson or destruction of property but not you. You know why? Because you're pretty."
The more she spoke, the more heated Cynthia got. "Girls are either pretty or smart. Pretty girls get away with everything. They get everything handed to them and think they earned it themselves. Pretty is an accident of birth. Smart is what you make of yourself. Smart is commendable. For example, I'm a well-respected lawyer and you? You barely graduated college in the bottom two percent of your class. And now, look at you. What do you do for a living but run around and get into trouble?"
Hoo boy. Her spidey sense was blaring at her. It had been a while since she'd been on the receiving end of this much animosity. Stephanie could almost see the steam coming off the woman. She was fighting mad about something and glad to unload on Stephanie. And what the hell was that about her college records? It was correct, though Steph liked to refer to being in the top 98% of her class. Had Cynthia actually looked her up?
While Stephanie stood there, shell shocked, Cynthia breathed in and gathered herself together.
She sounded like a normal person as she said, "Come near me again, and I'll charge you with interfering, obstruction, witness tampering, and anything else I can think of. Good day."
Moving around Stephanie, she walked off, her sensible heels making a clonk noise with every step. All Stephanie could do was stare.
~ ~ continued ~ ~