Nathan March Investigations - Book 1: Jaded Justice - episode 3

in fiction •  7 years ago 

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click here for episode two

Book 1

Jaded Justice

Episode Three

Milton Pierce’s conversation with the detective he sent to the hospital to interrogate the security guards, included orders to be sure that Simpson felt he’d pulled it off successfully, whatever the plan had been.

While his uniformed officers searched every inch of the property, Milton Pierce rejoined Nathan and Mickey back in the kitchen. Dina poured fresh coffee trying to put what she’d seen earlier, out of her mind.

“Okay Nate I did as you requested, but you need to fill me in now, what do you suspect is going on?” asked Milton Pierce of his old friend.

Before Nathan could answer a young female officer came to the kitchen in a hurry carrying an envelope.

“Beg your pardon sir, but this was left in the mailbox outside the security shack, and it’s addressed to Mr. March,” she said.

Taking the envelope from her Milton Pierce could only make note of the perfect Old English calligraphy used to write Nathan’s name.

“Here you are Nate, I doubt they’ll be any prints but just in case handle it carefully,” said Pierce passing the envelope to Nathan.

The sharp knife given to him by Dina to open it worked perfectly to cut a crisp slit across the entire top of the envelope. Again written in the same style of calligraphy that was used on the envelope the note read, “It’s time to mind your business or next time it’s the lady of the house who’ll be found spread all over the doorsteps.”

“Bastard,” said Mickey now turning a scarlet red with fury.

Nathan stood and reached Dina in two steps embracing her while reassuring her with his words “You are not getting out of my sight until this is over, and that’s a promise,” said Nathan angrier than he’d been, in a very long time.

“Don’t you worry about me, I’m so angry he killed my Muggles that he’d better worry if he ever gets even close to me,” said Dina as the men all grinned certain she meant every word.

“Is your revolver still loaded,” asked Mickey.

“It is most definitely and close by,” said Dina as she took the nine millimeter out from the pocket of her sweater and showed it to the men.

“Now aren’t you happy you let her have a license to carry,” said Nathan to Milton Pierce who didn‘t seem too positive about it at all.

“Now, let’s run over the last twenty-four hours Nate and don’t leave anything out,” said Milton.

When his officers finally returned reporting nothing unusual anywhere, Milton Pierce now informed about the entire episode, knew that Nathan was probably correct about Simpson. Now all they needed a Plan B to prove it thought Milt Pierce as he was chauffeured back to the station.

***

An hour later, Nathan was at the Emergency Room at the Methodist Hospital while Mickey headed to the business office making arrangements for the hospital payment for the care of the two guards. Since neither Larry nor Chet had their cell phones Mickey offered them the use of a cell phone to call home as the ER doctor insisted they both spend the night after ingesting such a large dose of Chloral Hydrate.

Larry Connors, who hit his head when he fell from his seat in the front guard shack, appeared to have suffered a slight concussion as well.

“Mr. March, can you tell us anything about what’s really going on? I mean the last time I went out like that was in Nita’s Bar and Grill in Saigon,” he said with a grin.

“I’m pretty sure it has to do with a case I’m working at the moment and believe me I’m not sure I’ll be continuing. I’ve never had my people hurt and a pet murdered before, and I don’t like it one bit,” said Nathan not sure at the moment that he was only playacting for Simpson.

Both men were blown away by the beautiful celebrity suite Nathan arranged for them at the hospital and the special menu that came with it. As soon as the men were settled in, Mickey retrieved his and Nathan’s cell phones from Chet and Larry, and Nathan assured the men that he’d see them in the morning.

Mickey couldn’t wait for the last number phoned on his cell to appear in the window. When it did he showed it to Nathan. Immediately Nathan recognized it, not surprised that Chet Simpson had phoned the Sheridan residence in Manchester.

“He called the main house and not the security station,” said Nathan.

“Does that clear his father?” asked Mickey.

“Not necessarily. It does mean that someone is not happy that Elliot has put us on their trail. I don’t think we need to wait for additional proof that something other than a suspected suicide is driving this case,” said Nathan.

“Will we need Simpson back on the property to figure it out? I only ask because I don’t think Dina will be able to handle his being around after seeing what he did to her dog,” said Mickey.

“I think we need to speak to Milt and let him know what we’ve learned so far. Maybe if we shake up the kid he’ll make a mistake,” said Nathan not liking the sinking feeling that was settling over him. This case with a dog murdered so brutally on his property, made him aware that another human victim could be next, if he made any more mistakes in underestimating the real culprits.

***

Larry Connors was drifting off to sleep in the bed placed on the other side of the large hospital suite, while Chet Simpson watched TV from his bed, feeling very proud of almost scaring the great Nathan March off the case. In minutes he too was under the influence of his sleeping pill and pressing the TV’s off button he rolled on his side to get some sleep.

Nathan could have told Chet Simpson that the trouble with teaming up with people mentally superior to oneself is that you become expendable once you’ve finished the tasks they assigned to you. This was especially true, when you represent a threat to those who’d rather be free of any legal entanglements.

Chet never resisted when the intruder in his hospital suite rolled him onto his back and placed his pillow firmly over his face. Unfortunately, he was too far under the sleeping pill’s influence to realize that his impending death was most certainly not a dream.

***

Just after 6:00AM the next morning Larry Connors was quietly making his way to use the bathroom and then take a shower, when a pillow fell from Chet’s bed and hit the floor.

“Don’t move sleeping beauty, I’ll get that for you,” said Larry. On retrieving the pillow and straightening up he came to eye level with his very dead roommate. On seeing the expression on Chet Simpson’s dead face Larry let out a bellow heard not only on his floor but on the floor below him as well. It was obvious that Chet had awoken too late to help himself, and the look of anguish his corpse wore, was terrifying.

By 9:30 AM Nathan March and Detective Daniel Moynihan were in the doctor’s lounge down the hall on the 10th floor of the Methodist Hospital, trying to comfort Larry Connors who was not yet feeling the effects of the shot ordered by his physician, to calm him down. A few doors away, the hospital suite he had occupied with Chet Simpson held crime scene technicians, the medical examiner, and a photographer. Local police flanked the doorway and hospital security officers were at each end of the floor, with more posted outside the other six celebrity suites on the floor.

Chet Simpson’s body still lay on the bed where he died, but at the request of the crime scene personnel, once photos were obtained and the medical examiner completed a cursory examination of the body, his face was covered so they could concentrate on gathering evidence.

Larry Connor’s head was buried in Nathan March’s chest as he cried and whimpered for a man he barely knew. Nathan understood that what Larry had experienced today seeing Chet in that condition, had unlocked lots of painful memories Larry had repressed from the three tours he’d made to Vietnam, as a young man.

Nathan March didn’t quite realize the calming effect he had on others, because of his ability to make sense out of the most convoluted situations. He shared his thoughts without reserve and never needed to parade his brilliance before others. Instead he solicited the opinions of others, and valued their abilities to add something important to the mix, no matter where they were placed on the socioeconomic scale.

“It’s okay Larry, you’re safe now,” said Nathan. Your wife and son are on their way. Can we count on you to keep things quiet, until we know what’s going on?” asked Nathan.

“You bet sir,” said Larry pulling himself up straight and wiping his face with the tissues Nathan handed to him. “There’s no need to alarm them any further and I know you’ll get to the bottom of things sir. Don’t you worry as far as they are concerned, they’re just picking me up from the hospital after I suffered a head trauma, due to a foiled attempt to rob your residence, sir,” added Larry, grasping the important role he played in this case.

“Peter and Malcolm are in place at both guard shacks Larry and we have your statement on tape telling us about finding Chet, so all you need to think of is getting some rest now,” said Nathan.

“I want to get back to work as soon as possible, sir. I’m fine and it will do me good to take my post again,” said Larry.

“Alright, I’ve trusted you for a decade with all that I own and treasure so I’ll trust you to know whether you can return or not,” said Nathan.

“Thank you sir,” said Larry feeling proud that his boss placed such faith in his judgment.

“Since you are dressed and ready to go, why don’t we get you down to the lobby, so you can greet your wife and son when they arrive,” said Nathan. With Detective Moynihan and two of his men in tow, Nathan headed down to the lobby, with Larry in a wheelchair being pushed by an orderly.

***

At the nurse’s station Mickey Stone had done what he always did so masterfully, he spent time with the other hired help, learning what he could about the events leading up to Chet Simpson’s demise. The nurses were quite helpful in dishing the gossip that put things in their right order and corrected the timing.

He learned that about 3:00AM one of the nurses heard the elevator arrive, and seconds later she heard its door close. Since the nurse’s station is perpendicular to the elevators, she had to leave her desk to observe who it was and all she caught was a flash of what she thought was a blue maintenance uniform.

Mickey’s delight at realizing that cameras were in place in the elevators soon faded when he and the Chief of Security at the hospital, discovered that someone had beaten them to the cameras and removed the video tapes from both.

“Whoever it was probably did it right in front of the night shift staff, looking like a member of our maintenance crew,” said the Chief of Security leaving Mickey thoroughly disappointed.

The Chief of Police was assured by the Chief of Security at the hospital that the celebrity suites were safe. That news made it obvious that only Chet Simpson was the target of foul play, otherwise Larry Connors and perhaps others would have met a similar fate.

The hospital suite was finally clear of police and other security personnel, when the housekeeping staff began steaming the upholstered furniture and removing and replacing the mattress on the second bed where Chet Simpson was found dead. The halls were free of all uniforms, fresh video tapes were in each elevator camera, and to all outward appearances everything was back to normal.

Chet’s corpse was already undergoing an autopsy receiving top priority at the request of the Chief of Police, which meant that in ten days he’d formally have most of the information he needed to declare his death a homicide. Meanwhile off the record in a private conversation with Milton Pierce, the medical examiner shared that due to the bruising on the inside of his lips, she had no doubt that Chet had been suffocated.

***

Peter Welch and Malcolm Vitale were both surprised by the large dinners each received featuring Dina’s famous fried chicken, along with mash potatoes and fresh steamed corn on the cob. Along with the dinners in their own containers, there were several homemade brownies with walnuts, and the smell filled the air in both guard shacks. After everything was delivered, Dina happily pushed the tea cart back inside the manor with a smile as she had been rewarded with warm kisses from each guard who knew she was still grieving the death of Muggles. Both men hoped that the surprise they planned for her a bit later would cheer her up.

An hour later Silvia Vitale handed the bundle she was carrying to Peter Welch, at the front gate of the manor house. Peter held it for Malcolm to deliver to Dina as planned.

When Malcolm Vitale arrived at the doorway the tiny boxer puppy with the collar reading Muggles II, leapt into Dina’s arms as soon as the door opened.

“Hello there little one, where’d you come from,” said Dina with tears streaming down her face, which the puppy happily licked away.

Malcolm was overcome himself and made a joke of being allowed to cry because he was Italian. He accepted Dina’s hug and kiss as she marched passed him to thank Peter Welch which she did causing him to gulp air, to keep from crying as well.

“Come on Muggles II, time to get you familiar with your territory,” said Dina already in love with her new pet.

When Nathan and Mickey arrived home later they found Dina asleep in her large rocking chair, with a sleeping boxer puppy on her lap.

***

Mickey called the head of the PTA early the next day. Mickey’s associates were members of the Protective Titans Agency and three of the biggest and meanest looking gentlemen Dina had ever seen in her life as they stood filling the over-sized front door mid-morning the next day, so that even Nathan was impressed.

After Nathan was introduced he gave an approving glance to Mickey smiling at the navy blue sweats the three were wearing printed with the letters PTA in gold, in the center of the sweatshirt. The five men headed for the former gardening shed, a small brick building a good distance from the manor house, but situated so that from inside one could view both front and back gates.

A full kitchen and bathroom had been added only a few years earlier including modern appliances and a spacious shower. Three bedrooms and a living room held brand new furniture ordered that day, to accommodate the size of the three human monoliths that were in place to foil anyone’s plans to do any further harm to Dina, or anyone else living on the premises.

As they sat in the over-sized chairs around the kitchen table, the first of the three men, John Barry sporting a blonde crew cut began to speak.

“Mr. March my specialty in the Navy Seals for the last dozen years has been retrievals, and I particularly enjoyed the work. Sam Weiss and George Lopez here threw in with me when I retired and decided to provide special security services to high profile individuals. Mickey contacted us after reading about us on our web site. We requested that he join us on an assignment to see us in action.

“What we felt was going to go much like a planned exercise, got hairy due to our client’s daughter texting her location to what she thought was an online “hottie” instead of the head of a celebrity kidnap group. Mickey’s skills impressed us, as much as ours impressed him and we’ve been at his disposal ever since. Hopefully our work on this case will impress you as well sir,” said the lean and powerful looking young man.

“Yeah this time Mickey gets to be the “Jefe” said George Lopez wearing a wonderful grin. “I haven’t forgotten how you landed me on my haunches when I wasn’t looking so watch your six brothers,” he added with a broad smile.

The twinkle in his brown eyes and his confident manner belayed the fact that George knew more than a hundred ways to kill silently and had used a few of them at one time or another.

“My sister could take him on,” laughed Sam Weiss.

“I’d love your sister to take me on, but so far no luck,” answered Mickey.

“Unless you’re planning to convert don’t even think about her,” said Sam, as his blue eyes lit up with laughter.

“Where do I sign,” said Mickey as all five men broke up in laughter.

Sam Weiss was a communications expert and unlike anyone Mickey had ever known. The man would rather be with his laptop than with anyone living, most of the time. He had proved that as a hacker he could tell you anything about anyone from bank balances to their vacation schedule. He had hacked his way into the emails of military leaders supposedly under the securest computer fire walls available.

His skills made it possible to assess the needs of those under the team’s protection and time and time again his accurate data, including GPS scans that warned of traps to be avoided, saved the day.

“Guys please understand that my method of leadership at times is bound to be difficult to comprehend because my thinking process slants toward all things spiritual, as Mickey can testify,” said Nathan.

“In other words, you’re another John,” said Sam Weiss jokingly.

“Yup he courts the Big Holy too,” said George Lopez.

“And what’s wrong with that,” said John Barry.

“Nothing at all,” said Mickey. “I’m here now because Nathan’s on speaking terms with the Big Holy and that’s what’s kept us both quite safe.”

“I can promise you that through trial and error, I’ve verified that our intentions must be unified and shared to have the optimum outcome, and your commitment to every move must be solid beforehand. So with that let me tell you how I think your unique talents can be used to help sort out this situation,” said Nathan as the three men smiled, each certain they were going to enjoy this assignment more than most.

***

Filling in each summer when needed at the Manchester District Court where he vacationed each year, Judge Elliot Sheridan wrote a note removing himself from the court roster for the next four weeks, and handed it to a courier to be received at the courthouse by 10:00 AM that Friday morning. Since his appointment eleven years earlier to the Supreme Court in Concord, New Hampshire where he lived, Elliot had never taken a sick day but he knew his friend Nathan March was correct, he wasn't himself and needed time to put his life back in order.

At the moment the self-assured and remarkably mature judge, felt more vulnerable than he had ever before. This was not only a time of grieving for him, but with each day that passed since his sister Tina’s death and there had been four now, the feeling of hopelessness intensified. He had gathered enough strength to interview and hire a personal body guard, which Nathan insisted upon. The huge Hispanic gentleman would be given full reign of the property and direct the activities of the security guards already in place at the summer home.

Each of the six men in the security team, three daytime and three overnight, felt that any one of them could have taken on the role, had they just been offered it, however Tyrone Carson was the angriest about being by-passed for the position. The college-educated well trained former Green Beret was a handsome black man, who stood six foot four and as a Marshall Arts expert in Tai Kwan Do, he was no one to be challenged in a hand to hand situation.

Along with his associates George Lopez had spent the past evening going over the files of each of the security guards at the Sheridan summer home, as well as the dossiers on those visiting and dwelling there presently. Nothing jumped out on anyone and to George, that wasn’t good.

***

In a custom-fitted black Armani suit with matching shirt and tie, George Lopez arrived at the Sheridan summer home that morning to meet a group of security guards that not only resented his appointment as their boss, but planned to make him look like a fool, if ever the chance presented itself.

In their initial meeting the men whispered Italian and French to one another with Tyrone Carson continuously insulting George in Arabic.

As the new security chief for Judge Elliot Sheridan, George never flinched as he stood in front of his new team who were seated in metal chairs fidgeting like teenagers. Those comments being whispered in French George addressed out loud sounding like a native of the country. Those statements made in Italian slang, he corrected with perfect Italian grammar. Tyrone’s comments in Arabic about George resembling a goat on steroids, George answered in Arabic stating that he didn’t so much look like a goat on steroids, as much as he looked like a bull dog that was more than capable of kicking Tyrone’s butt.

The men, especially Tyrone, were stunned and when they changed into sweats and headed for the exercise room for their physical evaluations, they were certain their moment to whip their new boss’ butt had come. In lightning fast moves George put all five men down on the mat, making them understand that he was their boss. Tyrone did his best, but even he couldn’t get near George. He bristled but knew he was no longer the top gun in the group, as he honestly never saw a man of George’s size move to overtake an opponent so swiftly.

“Let’s now act like the professionals we all are. Fact is we are being confronted by a very desperate individual or several individuals who have already killed one human being, and when an autopsy’s finished it may tell us that a second victim Mrs. Bach, was herself murdered. If so that means that including the poisoning of two guards, the death of a powerful watch dog there have been three events that took place under the noses of three different security teams. That should put you on notice that our foe is not to be underestimated because now we all represent someone who’s a danger to him/her/or them,” said George.

“Sir I thought Mrs. Bach was a straight out suicide,” said the youngest of the group.

“She may well have been a suicide, but some matters need to be cleared up that contradict that assumption,” said George.
“You mean why did someone go to so much trouble to get Mr. March to drop his investigation, if it was just a suicide? “ said Tyrone.

“Exactly what I was thinking, Tyrone,” said George.

“Sir how much danger do you really think the Judge and his wife are in right now?” asked Tyrone.

“It’s what my boss thinks that matters and Mr. March is certain that whoever is behind all this, for whatever reason, they have now invested a great deal and risked being caught three separate times, so they are planning to succeed.” said George.

“Out of curiosity sir, how many languages do you speak?” asked Tyrone grinning up at George.

”Next to snapping necks, studying languages is my thing. So far I can read and write in seven languages and speak in nine. When I was a kid, believe it or not, I wanted to grow up to be the first Hispanic Pope so I decided to get good at languages the way John Paul II was,” said George as the men all cracked up visualizing this monster of a man wearing a cassock.

“What changed your mind sir,” asked another guard.

“As I recall it was Maria Louisa Ruiz and since gentlemen don’t speak out of school, that’s all I will tell you,” said George with a wink.

After a long laugh the men returned to their metal chairs, took their seats and listened intently to the orders of this big man who was definitely someone they could respect.

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