Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Summer Job - 47. Who is Charles Farmer
The Task Force, such as it was and what there was of it, amounted to Deputy District Attorney Karen Callahan, her staff, Rex Daniels of the Youth Division, and Chris Butler of Homicide. District Attorney Perry had been informed that a serious investigation was quietly under way. Those that knew what was actually going on was held very close, so the principal investigators had to do a lot of work in a very short time.
Ray Daniels suggested his wife Velma take their daughter to her Mom’s for the weekend. She knew what that was about. Her husband would be doing cop stuff at all hours all weekend. She took his suggestion with alacrity.
The School Supervisor was on vacation, and it took some time to reach someone senior enough with the right keys to get what they were after. It was after ten when Daniels served the warrant for the School District’s personnel jacket on Farmer. He could also get a forwarding address and phone number for “Coach Hardin”.
Billy Hardin was well into his morning routine in his gym when his cell phone rang. The caller-id read: Ray Daniels.
He answered, “Hardin’s Gym. How may I help you?”
“Mr. Hardin, I’m Sergeant Daniels of the city’s Youth Division, and I’d like to ask a few questions about your time at Grayson Middle School.”
Hardin sighed and said, “Well, I guess it finally happened. One of Farmer’s thugs finally really hurt somebody.”
Daniels said, “I understand you had problems with Farmer.”
Hardin chuckled and replied, “You might say that. He was the reason I left.”
Daniels asked, “What was the problem?”
“Have you seen the movie Apocalypse Now?”
The Sergeant was a little puzzled at the non-sequitur and said, “Yes, I’ve seen it. Why?”
Daniels said, “Imagine Colonel Kurtz as a Middle School Vice Principal, and that might give you an idea of what Farmer was like. You see, I had big problems with kids that bully weaker kids. I stopped it whenever I could. Farmer had different ideas, bordering on social Darwinism. He told me that was life, and we didn’t do the kids any favors by protecting them. We knew who was doing the bullying, but Farmer would only talk to them, and it just kept going on.”
Daniels asked, “What about Principle Singleton? Where did he stand?”
Hardin said, “He was pretty much a non-entity. Singleton is close to retirement, frightened, and doesn’t want to rock the boat. He’s just fine with Farmer running the disciplinary side of the house. I think old Jimmy admires Farmer and thinks, as a distinguished war veteran, his turds are silver ingots. If you ask me, something about the Army warped the way Farmer thinks.”
That was the first Daniels had heard that Farmer was a veteran. He would have to look into that.
Daniels said, “So you assumed the inevitable had happened and one of the boys Farmer had been letting run amok had hurt somebody?”
Hardin said, “It was only a matter of time. I wanted out before there were lawsuits, so I jumped when I had the chance. It’s not my circus and not my monkeys anymore”
Second Lieutenant Ryan Lynch was having a boring day. Sitting the watch desk of the Army’s Criminal Investigative Division (CID) on a Saturday morning was an easy duty. It didn’t get much easier or, more boring.
In the ecology of the Pentagon, a Second Lieutenant was roughly equivalent to a paramecium in pond water. A Butterbar’s place in the food chain was lowly, necessary, and mostly invisible.
He was listening to a sports talk show on iHeartRadio in an ear bud when his computer pinged and a red tinged window opened. Lynch had never seen that particular window open. As junior as Lynch was, he hadn’t seen any of the more interesting windows open, and wouldn’t unless he made Captain. He clicked on it and maximized it to size.
A Red Flagged file has been requested by a local law enforcement agency. Look at the on call officers list and inform them immediately.
Lynch dutifully clicked on the on-call list, selected the first name on the list, and the computer handled the rest.
Captain Josh Harrelson had just returned from TDY at Fort Bragg, or whatever the hell they would end up naming it after the PC idiots finished renaming every base named after a Confederate General. Well, Braxton Bragg had served in the US Army in the Mexican-American War, so who knows which way it would go.
His phone chimed with an incoming message, and he groaned. Why me? He opened the message and paled: a Red Flagged file request on a Saturday morning. Crap. This was not good.
He quickly changed into a uniform and headed into the office.
Jerry Martin, a member of Karen Callahan’s staff, laid a stack of paper on his desk and said, “Our guy Farmer is worth about three million and change in cash and real property.”
Callahan said, “He didn’t earn that on a Principle’s salary.”
Martin said, “No, he didn’t. His paternal grandfather died in 1988 and left him two point two million after taxes. He was smart. He invested most of it, did some time in the Army and built a house when the South Side subdivision was built in 1996 when he got the teaching job here.”
Martin rolled out the plans for the house on the desk and said, “It’s an eight bedroom, five baths two-story with a large basement. He also owns some property in the county. It’s an old farm with about eighty acres. One of the Sheriff’s guys drove by it and took a look. There’s an old house and barn in good condition. He has a big vegetable garden in easy view of the highway.”
Ray Daniels said, “It seems Mr. Farmer is a proper country gentleman.”
Callahan said, “I’m very interested in that property. When did he purchase it?”
Martin looked at his notes and said, “He bought it in an estate sale in 2007.”
“Eleven years ago”, Daniels said. “Isn’t that interesting?”
His phone pinged with a text, and he checked it. He said, “This is the call we’re expecting. I’m going to text him back with your number, so we can put it on speaker.”
The phone on Karen Callahan’s desk rang. She pressed the speaker button and answered, “Deputy District Attorney Callahan.”
“This is Captain Harrelson of the Army’s Criminal Investigation Division. I’m responding to your request for information on Charles Randal Farmer.”
Callahan said, “Usually we just get a short report for a background check.”
Harrelson said, “That’s usually what you get. You requested information on a former Special Forces operator. Farmer was a Gulf War era Green Beret— the first Gulf War in 1991. He may be in his late forties or early fifties now, but you have to consider him a dangerous customer.”
Daniels cursed under his breath, but Callahan asked, “Could you give us a brief on his service history?”
Harrelson said, “Farmer joined up right out of high school in 1987. He did basic, ATC and qualified for Jump School. That’s where he caught the eye of the Special Forces guys at Bragg. He went to Green Beret school and was deployed a few times. He was deployed with a team to Iraq after the Gulf War broke out in 1990. They were sent to work with the Kurds. This is where things go murky in the records. His commander says he went native with the Kurds. They were doing so well, they got the attention of Saddam’s elite troops and got chewed up badly. Farmer didn’t take it too well. He lost it and went berserk on the Iraqis and was injured. The record is heavily redacted and Farmer was investigated for war crimes, but the JAG closed it. The team was extracted and Farmer spent three months at Walter Reed. It wasn’t his physical injuries that got him the medical discharge. The shrinks decided he was no longer fit for combat. He was discharged in 1992 after his hitch was up and went to college.”
After exchanging pleasantries, Captain Harrelson promised to email Farmer’s records.
Callahan exclaimed, "Jesus Christ! We've had a war criminal teaching for twenty-something years? What do you think, Sergeant?”
Daniels said, “If this were someone who wasn’t as well-connected as Farmer appears to be, I might say back off and call in the State Police or the Feds. That seriously risks spooking him. I think we’re better off going ahead with the takedown tonight and asking for their support on the investigatory side once we have him on ice.”
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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