The Summer Job - 71. Into the Light

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Stacy Scott rolled her chair back from her computer and rubbed her eyes. She had no idea what had been on the CD until she put it on her computer. Then it was obvious. Farmer’s journal of his hunt for the serial killer had been scanned into PDF files by the year.

It was spectacular. Once Stacy started, she could not stop. Charles Farmer had been brilliant and driven in his search for David Wayne Allen. This was not just another story. There was a book in this. Probably even a movie.

She even had a title for it: Relentless: A Teacher’s Hunt for the Freeway Killer.

Her editor Murry stuck his head in her cubicle and asked, “Where are we with the Farmer story?”

Stacy replied, “Pulitzer territory. I’ll have a draft ready for you after lunch, and then I need to go sit in on the court case this afternoon.”

Murry put her favorite sandwich from Jimmy John’s and a Mountain Dew on her desk and said, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Special Agent Andy Kellogg sat in front of Justice Court Senior Judge Anthony Drummond with his paperwork, an MP3 player and carefully laid out his case. He started with the statistics. Very few youth courts were ever as uniformly brutal with juvenile offenders as the court run by Judge Gerald Turner.

It had not been so before. Before Sturgis at CPS and Youth Court Judge Gerald Turner five years ago, first time juvenile offenders in drug cases with no aggravating circumstances were always given a fine and probation. After the change in 2013, first offenders were uniformly given three to six months at a faith-based rehab at state and federal expense. That expense had not been trivial. At a price tag of around twenty thousand dollars a month, in the five years this little scam had been running, it had cost over eighty million to the state directly and another eighty million to the federal government in matching funds.

The last straw for Judge Drummond were the recorded conversations. Bob Baxter of Security Concepts and Emily Sturgis discussed the upcoming incarceration of “eight deviants” before the mere formality of a hearing. The Judge’s face went red with fury when he heard Emily Sturgis and Judge Taylor haggling over his cut. When Baxter asked Sturgis about the judge assigned, Sturgis had declared that Turner was “on the team, but we may need to increase his cut”.

Judge Drummond asked, “This is a nightmare. I’ve seen and heard what you have. I assume you are going to arrest Sturgis and Turner?”

Kellogg said, “I can do that right now with what I have. Those are Federal charges. They will serve out their sentences in nice, cushy Federal prisons. They might get a slick lawyer and get out of it entirely. These two have run up a considerable debt with the good State of Virginia. I’ve spoken to Deputy District Attorney Callahan about this matter, and she has written up arrest warrants for hundreds of cases of perjury against Sturgis and Taylor. In each case, they signed documents that sent the kids off to private prison and treatment centers in return for kickbacks.”

Judge Drummond smiled nastily and said, “I’m on board. How do you want to play this?”

Drummond and Kellogg talked strategy for fifteen minutes and came up with a game plan for the two o’clock Youth Court session. Everything was arranged. They were going to allow the good Emily Sturgis to hang herself.

As Bobby led a dumbfounded Pops and an excited Billy to Lucky Star, Pops noticed he walked with a slight limp and could see the surgery scars on his left knee. He led them up a gang plank on Lucky Star’s port side as the ship was neatly backed into the dock, raked bow towards the ocean.

Something else occurred to Pops: the receptionist had looked remarkably familiar. Older, sure, but could it possibly be? No. She was certainly retired by now, and the coincidence would be too great.

Lucky Star was obviously a new ship and bigger than anything Pops had in mind. There were three decks, and they entered through the starboard hatch into the lounge.

Following Bobby, they went forward and saw the accommodations, communications cabin and a spiral staircase to the bridge. After looking into the cabin Pops had decided would be his, he got some idea why the ship was less expensive than he first thought. She was nice, but was not as luxurious as the private yachts of the rich and famous. Lucky Star had the feel of a working ship.

On their tour going aft, they passed through the mess, galley, six cabins and finally ended up in what was obviously a ready room for divers with the gear to charge air tanks.

Pops asked to go below to see the engine spaces, and he was not disappointed. There were four big super-charged diesels, a shop, cargo hold and a spare parts locker.

On the top level, there was a sun deck with lounge chairs. The bridge was just forward of the sun deck. Bobby led them to the rear hatch of the bridge and said, “Mr. Bell is in there testing your electronics. You are going to need some crew for her. Please keep me in mind. I would love to ship out on her.”

Pops asked, “Has our stuff been delivered?”

Bobby said, “We’ve been getting deliveries all morning. When you pick your cabins, let us know, and we’ll bring it aboard.”

Pops said, “Bobby, I’m going to take the captain’s cabin near the bridge. Take Billy downstairs and let him pick one out. I’m going to have a word with Mr. Bell.”

Bobby led Billy below as Pops walked forward into the bridge to find Mr. Bell calibrating the radar.

He turned and said, “Mr. Bridges, I’m Todd Bell. It’s good to meet you.”

Pops shook the man’s proffered hand and said, “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Bell. I’m just a little astonished to find out the sixty-foot cruiser I bought turned out to be a sixty-meter sea monster.”

Bell said, “She is acceptable, I hope.”

Pops chuckled and said, “This is a lot more boat than one point two I paid for her will buy.”

The rear hatch on the bridge opened and a voice from his past said, “Todd, Mr. Bridges and I need a moment. Why don’t you see to getting the Bridge’s cargo loaded?”

Pops turned to see the woman from the front desk and recognized her this time.

Todd Bell stood and said, “Yes Mam, Mrs. Carlyle.” He left through the aft hatch she had just entered.

As soon as the hatch closed, Pops asked, “How did you know Edith?”

Edith Carlyle grinned ironically and said, “We do keep an eye on our distinguished alumni. Saturday, someone at the Pentagon got a call from your local police. Someone at the Agency noticed you had activated your old Bridges cover, and they called me. We did a little snooping and figured out what it was you had in mind.”

Back in the nineties, Edith was the CIA’s top handler for non-covered operatives in the Philippines. She knew Farmer well and about his ties to the Van Houten family. He asked, “So… what happens now? Will I be black-bagged?”

She smiled and said, “Goodness no. We have people inside the Bureau. We got the real story as soon as they did. Good work on that serial killer. With your skills, smarts and resourcefulness, you are an invaluable asset.”

Farmer said, “Edith, I’m much too old for the field.”

“So am I, David, but we all do what we can. I think we can help each other. I assume that you are going to take up Karl Van Houten’s offer of a job at his resort on Palawan?”

Farmer sighed and said, “That was my plan.”

Edith’s eyes sparkled, “That is a particularly interesting part of the world now, and I mean interesting in the Chinese sense.”

Farmer replied with an inelegant, “Oh.”

Palawan was the Western most major island in Philippine archipelago which had some seventy-six hundred islands large and small. It bordered the Sula Sea on the South and the Spratly Islands and the South China Sea on the North. It was a beautiful green gem set in the sparkling blue waters of the Sula Sea and a tourist destination from Europe and Australians who were turned off by Bali.

Edith said, “Go there. Work for Van Houten. Run charters in this wonderful ship. You will never know when you are taking some of our people out to service our underwater listening buoys. In return, Chuck Farmer will stay dead. We’ll keep the David Bridges cover alive and well and, we will all live happily ever after.”

Farmer shook his head and said, “It’s that simple?”

Edith cooed, “Now sugar, nothing in this life is simple. You will be an asset, but the role you will play is exceptionally vital to the national security of an old and faithful ally. We aren’t going to ask you to run missions or do covert ops. You are simply running a charter service, and we want to be your preferred customer.”

Farmer said, “What about Doug?”

Edith said, “He’s much better off with you than his alcoholic mother. We can help to cover him too. You’ll want Bobby Davis. He was a Navy Bosom’s mate until he blew out his knee. He’s got the skills but, he’s not on the team. I’ve got two more young men in mind for your crew. They both have skills you need, one is a mechanic and the other is a master diver, and they need the work. So, what do you say, Mr. Bridges? Do we have a deal?”

Farmer said, “I can’t do anything that will put Billy in danger. He’s the son I’ve always wanted.”

Edith said, “That shouldn’t be a problem, running charters for sight-seers and divers.”

Farmer said, “I’m in.”