Chapter 30

Julie and I were sitting down on the floor next to my little hideaway in the office looking at the assortment of files that constituted the data collected on the murders that had spurred my investigation of the Dirty Cop case and I guess I must have been sporting a huge frown of frustration at not being able to pull it all together into a semblance of logical motivation.

When I had taken the courses in investigation at the police academy, the first thing they had driven into our heads was that every crime starts with a motive.

Motives were many and they were nuanced but I had discovered that dames and dough were the prime movers in the field of murder. I called it my “D and D” principle of “Murder 101”. Not to be confused with the “D and D” of criminal activity that was code for deaf and dumb whenever talking to the law when questioned.

Julie sorted the murders in separate piles chronologically allowing me to organize my thoughts about what I had already deduced and the speculation for which I had no firm evidence to back it up.

I decided to take them one at a time and pulled the bulky file on the original “John Doe” that had started me down the yellow brick road like poor Alice into the strange world of OZ with no instructions on how to reach her objective.

With the advantage of Monday morning quarterbacking, I was able to look at this case in the light of what I had discovered after the fact. Still, I went into each chronological development and searched for any omissions or downright errors I might have made in the investigation and I came to the conclusion that I needed to re-visit my interrogation of Miss OH, the pretty little Chinese woman that ran the laundry that had taken care of John Doe’s clothing with premier service. It was from her that I had discovered his real last name was Anderson although she was rather vague about his first name not admitting that they were on a first name basis. My gut feeling at the time was that she was not being entirely truthful about that fact and I had intended to follow it up but had gotten distracted by the fast moving developments in the case and had neglected to continue with my original plan of investigation.

The simple fact was that the untimely death of Donnie Anderson had eventually resulted in the other murder that quickly followed his time on earth and a demise that was far earlier than he would have liked for his life span on the planet.

It was easy to find Miss OH because she had a successful business in a good location and was popular with the cosmopolitan crowd that liked their clothes properly cleaned and pressed for public display. In fact, I was sorely tempted at the time of that first interrogation to make it my destination for my shirts which had lately been treated dismally by yours truly when it came to pressing out the wrinkles and using the right amount of starch to keep the collar and the cuffs looking prim and proper.

With my characteristic lack of planning, I had forgotten about my resolve to do better with regard to my laundering and had simply turned the job over to Julie with apologies for my shortcomings. In actuality, she had done an outstanding job and I was easily persuaded to marry her to help her out with her lack of a father to put on the birth certificate when the baby finally saw the light of day. It was the least I could do for the woman that would literally bend over backwards to please me and seldom asked for anything in return.

I waited outside the entrance of the Chinese Laundry and watched the customers as they entered and exited from the tiny shop with lots of business even early in the morning.

I noticed that the bulk of the customers were Caucasian and were dressed nicely and not in the least bit in a hurry unlike the rest of us that were concerned about being to work on time or making that appointment that filled our all-important schedule religiously followed by such well-dressed personages.

Miss OH was working the counter as usual and she continually kept up a conversation in her native tongue with the unseen workers in the back of the shop even while she serviced the customers at the front. Most of the time, she was either shouting at the top of her lungs or rolling her “rrr’s at the customers in her thickly accented English that changed “rolling on the river” to “lolling on the liver” more often than not.

I found it cute and sexy as well as her tight silk pajama pants that had absolutely no panty line at all and accentuated her camel toe in a delightful invitation to investigate her personal geography.

She wore no make-up and like most oriental females, it was difficult to determine her exact age because she had no wrinkles despite a lifetime of hard work and stressful existence just to survive in a strange society with different cultural appreciations.

Being the horn dog that I was in character, I noticed that her tits were still perky and not drooping at all and that her ass was both firm and taut with a sexy gap between her cheeks that must have led to a paradise of heated passion hidden from public view.

I could tell from her eyes that she remembered my earlier visit and she was wondering right away why I was back to see her. I saw her nipples push against her silk top and knew she was sexually aroused by the thought that I might find her sexually appealing and I knew instinctively that she was one of those Asian females that loved being taken by a Caucasian gentleman with a big cock and the intensity that females of any culture enjoy in a male.

“My dear Miss OH, I am sorry I did not return earlier, so many things have happened since we last met.”

She looked up at me with her wide-open eyes with the bedroom lids and put her hand on my arm possessively and replied, “Good morning, Mister Big Man, Miss OH think about you and I wonder who you dipping your big thing into at night when I am so alone and needing a man’s arms around me.”