Internal Affairs
Chapter 13

Copyright© 2014 by MysteryWriter

Friday came and went, much like Helen. Helen proved to be funny, forward, and sexy. For a woman over forty she was very attractive even without her clothes. Peter enjoyed her company as much as the sexual experience. Helen was just good fun whether in or out of bed.

Saturday morning the weather turned just plain nasty. It was snowing almost hard enough to be a white out. The twenty five mile and hour wind off the lake made it just plain brutal.

Since it started to snow the night before while they were eating dinner, Peter had stopped at a donut shop on the way home from dinner. That made it possible for the two of them to return to bed after breakfast. Good coffee and mediocre donuts were on the menu at cafe Peter Sims.

After breakfast Helen was on the menu. They stayed in the warm, but cramped bed until 2pm. "Get your sorry ass out of bed and lets go to that restaurant I saw in the next block," Helen demanded.

"Okay, but we should leave a note in case we get lost in the blizzard," Peter said.

"It's a snowstorm, but it isn't a blizzard," Helen corrected. "Just get your ass out of that warm bed and get dressed. You are going to have to loan me some clothes." Helen said.

"Well I'm not taking a shower then going out in the cold, so I guess this will just be a continuation of last night," Peter said as he pulled her to him. He kissed her and pulled her hips to him as he stood by the radiator.

Peter pulled on clean underwear, but replaced the thermal underwear from the day before. He found a clean set for Helen. There were a little large on her, but the were held in place by her clothes from the night before. His jeans were way too big but she needed team to turn the snow.

They both had the shape of a snowman when they left the apartment for the block and a half walk to the restaurant. The walk was miserable even if they were dressed for the cold. Peter wore good ski gloves while Helen wore the fancier Leather and rabbit fur gloves. In spite of how it looked the synthetic gloves he were were warmer.

The restaurant was closed when they arrived in the late afternoon. The restaurant had obviously decided not to serve dinner that night. Prob ably because they could only get customers within walking distance of the place. The area's residence were not likely to venture out in the snow storm, since they were all older citizens or yuppies whose SUVs were not suitable for the kind of weather coming down that evening.

"If we go on another block that way, we should get to a small grocery store. We can carry enough food for a nice dinner," Peter suggested.

"What if they are not open?" Helen asked.

"Then it's going to be a long night," Peter said. We need to hurry before the sun goes down." He fully expected sundown would end everyone's day.

"Let's go," Helen said.

The store was still open only because the owner lived over it. Even though it was open almost everything was gone. "Looks like you had a hell of a day," Peter said to the middle eastern man wearing a robe. The man obviously wanted to close and go upstairs for dinner.

Peter threw a loaf of unsliced bread into a shopping bag. He also found a can of cherries, a jar of baked beans, and a wedge of cheese. Peter paid ten dollars for groceries which were selling for five dollars the day before. There were city ordinances against gouging prices during a natural disaster, but Peter never even thought of reporting the man.

"So how did you get god to cooperate in turning a one night stand into a weekend event?" Helen asked Peter.

"I just live right," Peter said.

It turned out that the weekend didn't end on Sunday. The two of them stayed naked until Tuesday after lunch. They did dress long enough to go out to dinner and shop the neighborhood grocery once the snow ended.

When Peter finally pushed Helen's three year old Ford out of the parking space and into the drive lane, which had been cleared only hours before, it was filled with their dirty laundry. Helen had a washer dryer, so she volunteer to do the laundry for him. There was a huge amount of it. Several carefully packed plastic grocery bags filled her trunk.

Helen dropped him in the parking lot of his building several hours later with the clothes inside the same plastic bags. By that time the clothes were folded neatly, not rolled into tight wads. After dragging all the bags up the stairs, peter was ready to meet the icy world himself.

He went to dinner alone, then returned home to watch TV. His only stop along the way was the consignment store where he bought even more sweat shirts for three dollars each.

"I need to go to the big box store," he said to the TV. He knew it would not be a bike trip until his fancy new battery arrived. Even then he had his doubts about the ability to operate in the cold.

While he gave some thought to the new batteries which were supposedly be on a boat to the U.S. Port of Los Angeles at that very moment, He searched the TV for something half interesting to watch. He caught the teaser for Gold Diggers. According to the teaser the show had been filmed with the live cast right up to the point that person or persons unknown had killed Miles Adair the lead character while he parked on a lonely farm road. He was there preparing to head into the gold camp.

Peter became Curious about the mystery. The video had been edited to six one hour shows. The plan was to run them over the course of six days. One new one and the one from he night before. It had become a common move for the docudrama channels to run a new and old show on the same night.

He was fascinated by all whodunit, add to that a modern gold miner, and you had a mystery of greater interest. Then toss in that he was a retired cop and you had a magnet for Peter. The trick was going to be to investigating the high profile case without blowing his cover.

There were a couple of things in his favor. He had never been within a thousand miles of any location mentioned in the Google information of the show or murder.

He really wanted to do the investigation, but he wasn't sure it would be possible. It was an active ongoing investigation, they might not want to cooperate with an outsider, no matter how smart he thought he was, Peter decided.

Peter went to bed with no plan at all. Even after watching episode one of Gold Digger. The first episode was a reenactment of what they had done up until the TV show approached them. It wasn't boring, but it wasn't a barn burner either. Peter knew that he wanted to interview the production crew, but the would mean publicity. He knew that Seth would be livid.

"Hey you going to come to work today?" Helen asked the next morning over the phone.

"Sure why not," Peter said.

"So you want a ride?" she asked.

"No I might want to stop somewhere on the way home," Peter said. "He had in mind upgrading his small tablet to a laptop computer. That would require a trip to the big box store. If he made the trip during his lunch hour, he could take it to the office unpack it then get it home on the bike. He could have done it all if he had imposed on Helen. That was something he did not intend to do. Even though he was sure she would be willing.

The day worked just as he planned. By five o'clock he had a new state of the art Dell laptop computer. The salesman convinced him to buy a wireless mouse so he was all set.

Better yet it came in a small package. He could fit it all in the backpack which he had brought from his original home. It took up much less than half the thickness of the pack. It also left plenty of room on the sides. He piggybacked the office WIFI that afternoon to download episode one of the Gold digger show. He intended to download the show in it's entirety, one episode at a time.

"Deacon, you got a minute," Trish the fish asked.

"Sure, What can I do for you?" Peter asked.

"I'm bored," she said. "What are you working on?"

"Those files," he said pointing to the pile of blue folders on his desk. "I have to work them after you and Wilson your legal review," Peter replied.

"Come on Deke find something," she almost demanded.

"Most of the time law enforcement and I'm sure the practice of low is boring as hell. Imagine being a Real Estate lawyer," Peter suggested.

"You two are planning something I'm sure of it. So spill it," Helen said. She had walked up behind Trish.

"Watch Gold Digger on the Docudrama network tonight from eight to ten. We can discuss it tomorrow." They both knew he had ended the conversation.

"Trish call the head of internal affairs at the Chicago PD have them recheck the club that the victim was supposed to have been threatening Waters with. Check it for DNA. Be sure that they can identify everyone who handled it. Water's DNA should not be on the handle. The vic's wife's DNA may or may not have been on it. If it comes up no one's DNA is on it, then someone cleaned it after the fact and then you have a much larger problem.

"Break it up," Iva said. "Deacon, We need to talk.

"Sure, you want to talk here or in your office?" he asked.

"Outside, I need a cigarette, so get your coat."

Deacon got his coat and went out the rear door. The rear entrance was from the alley where the retail stores and restaurants took there deliveries. Usually there was nothing to see, but that morning everybody was trying to resupply, so there were about twice as many trucks as there were empty loading docks. I made from a nasty mess in the snow covered alley.

"You have been here two weeks and solved a murder, no one else even though of as a murder. You kept up with you files maybe it was half ass doing of your real job and maybe not. You came up with several areas of inquiry on them that I had never considered. I think it's safe to say that we need to work out a deal. This is going to be a negotiation not a capitulation," Iva the terrible said.

"So let's hear your offer," Peter said.

"DOJ has agreed to provide you as a consultant. You will have assigned duties but you would not be an employee of this office. You can assume all my communications with you are simply suggestions. We need not argue about them or have any other communications. You may not use other paid employees for your research. You report your findings to me and I will direct any follow up. The DOJ has opened a low priority line of research for me based only on your recommendations. They will do your criminal investigation research, not legal appeals information."

"It all sounds rather confusing," Peter suggested.

"It's brand new operating procedure so it is going to take some getting used to. You will not be making contact with the DOJ. Only I can do that," Iva said.

"I work for you, but I get paid my the DOJ. I get paid by the DOJ, but I can't contact the DOJ. It's all pretty silly if you ask me," Peter said.

"Tell me about it," Iva said.

Peter had no intention of telling her that he had always been accepting reward payments from the DOJ's war on drugs recovery funds. He also didn't tell her the no direct contact was to protect him not her.

"So what is the DOJ offering?" Peter asked.

"Twenty thousand a year and expenses on any out of town trips," Iva said.

Seth had negotiated it no doubt. It gave everyone something and no one got everything they wanted. It seemed to be a good deal for all.

Hell he thought, since he never saw anything in writing from the DOJ he might be paying his own salary from the Reward fund. He didn't care he lived simply. It was necessary to stay off Paco Gomez radar, so he couldn't spend what he had at the moment.

Money had never been the issue. He just wanted her to have some skin in the game. A thing is only worth the value you put on it. Since Iva wasn't willing to pay, she lost control over him. As a consultant he could refuse to do as she demanded at anytime. He would of course lose the cover of JustAct so it was not a course of action to be taken lightly.

"So do you understand?" Iva asked.

"I have it, but do you understand?" Peter asked.

"We will just have to feel our way along," Iva said with a formal smile. She was still very much trying to be the boss.

Once he was back inside he sat in the cubbyhole to read another file. The first thing he always did was to pull the evidence inventory. He placed it to the side so that he could compare it to the incident report. He would expect to find items missing from the inventory not things added. In the case of Susan Smith there was a match book in evidence which according to all the reports was never recovered from the scene. It made for a huge break in the chain of evidence.

Peter carried the file back to Trish's cubby. "Did you review this file?" he asked.

"Yes, I did," she said with a questioning look.

"Did you find any line of inquiry based on the matchbook?" Peter asked.

"Not that I remember," Trish said.

"Take another look please. The chain of custody is broken for the matchbook," Peter explained.@@

"If they based only line of questioning on it we can get it tossed, maybe?" she said.

"Now I'm curious to know who recovered it and why they didn't log it into evidence. It just showed up on the inventory with no name on the recovery tag. It is probably an oversight, but maybe not. Evidence is always an easy way for a cop to influence the outcome of a trial." Peter said.

"It isn't mentioned in any discovery to the defense so it must not have been used," Trish said. "We can track it down tomorrow. Time to close up shop."

Peter looked up at the large Clover Dairy clock on the wall and found that it was sure enough five till five. Well time does have a habit of marching on, the thought.

"Do you need a ride home?" Trish asked.

"No I rode the bike. I'm just going to put on my dough boy costume and ride it home," Peter said.

 
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