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    RolandQ
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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. 

Nick, A Story in the Style of Film Noir - 3. Chapter 3 - The Bureau

Chapter 3 - The Bureau
(That's FBI-speak for the FBI)

The next day came all too early, but I had to report in. I found an all too neat file prepared by Murphy waiting on my desk. He’d been able to accomplish a ton overnight. He had rundowns on each of the stolen cars that matched those used in the crimes. He even had an ID on the first guy I saw killed – from a fingerprint match and the full rap sheet on Bobbie. Now what did any of this add up to? Anything?

I had barely time enough to skim the material when the captain called me in. “What the hell were you doing at the second murder scene? Are you involved in this?”

I explained about the phone call I had gotten from Eddie and how I knew him from the “community.” The captain knew I was gay, even had Brian and me over for family barbeques. On a few occasions, my knowledge of gay life in the city had helped out on cases. No one made a big deal about it – especially because the police commissioner and Uncle Stavros were fishing buddies. I never knew that to help me any, but it did seem to squash any harassment. I think it even helped other gay officers.

“I had to clear that up first. This thing is a lot bigger than two hit and runs. I got a call from the FBI, they’re on their way. I don’t know what their deal is, but it looks like they’re taking over the case.

A uniform knocked on the door and indicated two men waiting in the homicide bullpen. “I guess this must be them – the suits look right.”

The men came into the captain’s office. “Thank you for seeing us, captain. I’m Agent George Thomson and this is Special Agent Steven Woodruff. We’ve been assured by the commissioner that you’d provide full cooperation. We don’t have an official presence in your city, so I’ll be asking for your assistance in the day to day operation, as well.”

“Of course, Thomson, you’ll have every cooperation. This is Lieutenant Nick Brody. He’ll be liaison with the Bureau for the duration. He’s already spent time on the case. He’s one of our best, so I know you’re in good hands.

Handshakes were exchanged around.

“I don’t suppose you have any material prepared on the recent events?” Agent Woodruff demanded as much as asked.

I bridled at the presumption of incompetence. “As a matter of fact, Detective Murphy has covered about all the bases, short of the coroner’s report, which is due in after noon. I’ll see you get a copy – or would you prefer it to be emailed?” I played up our technology – we weren’t just a Podunk police force.

Woodruff accepted the offer with ill grace. Its not often I’ve had such an instant reaction to someone, but it seemed pretty clear we hit each other’s buttons. The captain escorted the senior agent out, assuring a professional working relationship – with a glare at me – then suggested I assist Woodruff in setting up in the office next to my own. Woodruff declined my offer to ‘show him around’ saying he liked to get the lay of the land on his own. I pointed out the available office and sat down at my own desk.

Some additional email from Murphy was waiting, as well as information from external sources in answer to his overnight requests. I added it to the case file and shipped a copy to the address on Woodruff’s card. My phone rang, it was the coroner’s office letting me know that the report had been filed and I could access it at my leisure. I felt eyes on my back and turned to see Woodruff leaning on my office doorway, listening to my conversation.

“I take it you heard the latest,” I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster.

“Right with you, Lieutenant, right with you.”

“Are you going to tell me what the FBI’s interest is in this case, or are you going to make me guess?”

“That’s on a ‘need to know’ basis, Lieutenant.”

“This is going to be shitload of fun with you, isn’t it? Special Agent Woodruff.” My voice must have been getting louder. I looked out at the room and saw every head turned toward me. The captain’s eyes were speaking volumes – pretty much about “shut the hell up”.

“This is an investigation, Lieutenant. It’s not supposed to be ‘fun’. Perhaps there is someone who’d be more interested in assisting the Bureau.”

By this point, the captain had crossed the room, pushed Woodruff into my office and closed the door behind him. “Now look boys, you’re going to be spending day and night together for as long as it takes, you’d better find a way to get along.”

Woodruff stepped on my protest. “Captain, you can count on me to handle the situation professionally. As I was suggesting, maybe someone else would be better for the case?”

“Look, Woodruff, you guys came barging in here making demands and threatening with the commissioner before we even got started. Nick is the best we’ve got and I think he’s the man for the job, so deal with the situation. And no smug looks from you, Nick. You are to provide every assistance to Woodruff, I mean every assistance, and do so ‘pleasantly’. I must say, Woodruff, you’d do a lot better filling in Nick on what you’ve got – he knows this city better than anyone – he’s your link to what’s really going on. Now play nice, boys.” The captain turned on his heel and left us glowering at each other.

“Let me have a look at the file you’ve prepared. After that I’ll do a briefing on the Bureau’s case. I’ve been on this for almost two years, and I’m real protective of the information I’ve gathered. One slip and we could lose these guys, and that’s not going to happen on my watch.”

“Ok, Woodruff, let me know when you’re ready. I’ll make some calls and follow up on some leads I already have.” I was lying. I didn’t have any leads. I didn’t have a clue what I was going to do next, well, except for getting some coffee.

I was halfway through my second cup when Woodruff knocked on the frame of my open door. He asked permission to enter with raised eyebrows. I nodded ascent and he came in and sat in the chair opposite.

“Here’s the basic layout. We had a noose tightening around a drug distribution ring with operations in most major US cities. Just as we were about to make some arrests, somehow word got out and the operations disappeared overnight. I still don’t know if its locals or feds but someone got word to the drug bosses. So we lost the whole case. That was a couple of years back. Since then, I’ve been getting information, really just hints, that they’re shifting their operation to smaller cities, hiring local talent, being very low key. I haven’t been able to put a name to anyone, but to me it smells like the same operation, just trying a different route, with a less experienced, less well-funded police forces. Good business move.”

“So you think they’re operating here?”

“Yes, its consistent with the model I’ve developed. Your city has the right profile, the right demographics. I’ve been tracking a number of operatives I suspected from the original operation. Seems a number have been booking flights from New York, Chicago, and LA to here.”

“Was,” I checked my screen for a name, “Valenzuela one of your operatives?”

“Pretty good – you’ve spotted a foreign national with no known local connection. Of course it helps that he was run down. Are you sure it was murder.”

“I saw it happen. I was the witness – but you knew that from the report.”

“Convenient.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Simmer, down, that was too easy to let get away. What do you know about the second murder?

“Bobby Gambione – local thug for hire. He was pretty, but not too bright. Might have just pissed off somebody’s husband or talked too much. Still it fits with your scenario – hire local muscle. I wonder if Eddie knows where he used to hang out?”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, kind of a friend of mine and one of Bobbie’s admirers.”

“Well, call him down here.”

“Eddie is also one of my best sources. I want to protect that. I can go talk with Eddie.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Woodruff was already heading out of the office.

“Hey, Woodruff, you got anything less ‘Bureau’ to wear. If you’re set on going with me, you’d better lighten up on the J. Edgar look.” He looked back at me, taking in my sport shirt and jeans.

“I don’t have time for appearances, let’s get this over with.”

With misgivings I followed Woodruff to his car, rule-book government-issue ugly. It might not stand out in the Washington Beltway, but it smelled like Fed from a mile off. “Can we take my car? I think it will blend in better.”

“Get in, I’ve got to track the mileage and every other expense of the case.”

“Well, ok, FBI-man.” I gave him directions to Eddie’s place. The neighborhood looked deserted, but I felt eyes watching. He parked immediately in front of Eddie’s house. The wreckage of the front porch had been pulled away from the door. The little house looked very sad, indeed. Eddie must have heard us coming, he opened the door before we knocked.

“Nick, since when do you travel in a K-car? And who is this? Nice looking, but did he just come from a funeral?” Eddie’s claws were subdued after the previous night’s events, but he was trying to be normal, for Eddie.

“Woodruff, FBI,” all business, this guy.

We went into Eddie’s house. Eddie fussed Agent Woodruff onto the couch, leaving me to find my own seat – new meat, I guess, even if staidly packaged.

“I understand you were acquainted with the deceased.”

“You might say that, he fucked me three times a day for four months. We didn’t have many secrets.” Eddie was trying to shock Woodruff. Woodruff didn’t blink.

“Do you know what Mr. Gambione did for a living?”

“Bobby was what I would call ‘resourceful’. He wasn’t above taking a tumble for a few bucks – women, men, couples, animals for all I know. He talked about ‘mob’ connections, but I think it was more hype than real. When hard pressed, he would just steal from me. He was so handsome. Ahhh. Not hung like Nick here “ Eddie teased with a wink.” Woodruff’s’ face flinched. His glance at me was a reflex. “Easier to take on a regular basis.” Eddie sat primly, satisfied that he had ruffled Woodruff.

“Ahem,” Woodruff composed himself. “Do you know his regular hangouts?”

“He sure hung out here,” joked Eddie. Woodruff’s look chastened him, but then Eddie liked looking pouty. “Bobby did mention a club he went to where he met up with his gangster pals, a biker bar over on 8th. I picture it as a place where the leather crowd intersects with overage motorheads. Gee, that could be fun.” No look from Woodruff could keep Eddie in line for long.

I’m not sure why I wasn’t expecting it, the sound had become part of my life over the past 18 hours. This time repeated gunshots accompanied the sound of squealing tires and roaring engine. Shattering glass and the dull thuds of bullets burying into the walls mixed in. Woodruff gathered Eddie with a sweep of his arm and dropped to the floor – I was already there. We were all shaken, but irrepressible Eddie snuggled into the protective embrace of Woodruff. Judging by the sound, the car had sped off.

“Uh, I’ll check the door,” Woodruff managed as he fled from Eddie.

“Nice pecs and arms under that awful suit,” Eddie shared his review of Woodruff.

“Shit.” Could that be Agent Woodruff? “I don’t know what they were shooting at, but the only thing they hit was the ceiling and every window in my car.”

“I might be wrong, but it looks like a warning to me. I think you’d better clear out for a while, Eddie. Can you put a bag together and give us a lift back to headquarters? You’ll need to have that thing towed, Woodruff.”

Local police responded to my call. Funny, no other calls on gunshots in the middle of the afternoon. They secured the street as we made plans for Eddie.

Eddie packed, repacked, unpacked and packed again. “How can I possible pack if I don’t know where I’m going?”

“I can get my uncle’s cabin up by the lake. You should be fine there.”

Eddie rusticated his wardrobe and at last was satisfied. Woodruff took two suitcases, I took three, and Eddie an overnight bag. The trunk of his aging Mercedes could have held twice as much, but I wouldn’t let Eddie go back for more. I had ridden with Eddie before and took the keys from him. He managed to combine incessant chatter, dramatic gestures, and apparent inattention while driving in all lanes with and against the flow of traffic. I survived the one time, I wasn’t going to press my luck with another outing.

I was able to make arrangements by cell phone with Uncle Stavros to use his cabin, really a rustic palace on a lake north of the city. I hated leaving him with the impression that my friend was a love interest, but I didn’t want to make a long explanation.

Woodruff called a hurried council of his superiors, the captain and me. With the two murders and attempt on Eddie, it was clear things were heating up. I arranged for Eddie to wait at a restaurant around the corner under the guard of an officer with strict orders to shoot if Eddie made an advance.

The council decided that the situation called for extreme measures. It was decided that Woodruff and I should go undercover and try to get what information we could at the bar Eddie had mentioned.

“You guys,” meaning Woodruff and me, “had better set up your own operation away from Headquarters. We don’t know who is watching, but considering this afternoon’s shooting, things are being watched and getting dangerous. Nick, you’ve got lots of room at your place, don’t you?” The captain always had budget in mind.

“Uh, yeah.” I replied picturing opening my home – such as it is – to the surly Woodruff.

“Well set up there, keep in close communication, let me know what progress you make.”

The meeting ended and I went to collect Eddie. “You’re all set. The captain will have the sheriff check to make sure you’re secure in the cabin. I need you to do me a favor.

“Nick, anything, for you, baby.”

“Take my dog.”

“I don’t suppose he’s a poodle or shi’ztu?”

“Nope, big dog. Look, I’m going to be working around the clock, and he’ll be good company for you at the lake.”

“Couldn’t I take that nice young officer who was so helpful before?”

“You’re taking the dog.”

“I love it when you’re forceful.”

“I should know better than to play to you. You can follow me over to my house to get the dog. We’re heading there next.

Woodruff had walked to his hotel to get his things. We didn’t know if we’d be in this thing for a day or a month. Not a pleasant prospect.

Woodruff threw his suitcase into the trunk of my Jag and got into the passenger seat. The affectionate caress of the leather seat even got him to relax – a little.

“Nice ride, for a cop.” He wasn’t giving anything away.

“Inherited it, but you’re right, it’s a nice ride.” That was the whole conversation during the fifteen-minute ride. Man this was going to be brutal.

I showed Woodruff into the apartment and packed a bag for Jake – a big bag. I brought it down to Eddie and filled the rest of his trunk. Eddie got out of the car skeptically and approached Jake. Jake sat on his hind legs and extended a forepaw. “I didn’t know he shook hands,” I confessed. “He must like you.”

Eddie relaxed and opened the door of his car. Jake hopped into the passenger seat and waited to be taken. “My luck,” complained Eddie, “I flirt nonstop and only a dog appreciates me. Well, let’s go Jake, off to the country.”

Eddie waved as he got into the driver’s seat and was still waving as he pulled into traffic, oblivious to the screeching tires of cars braking to avoid his car. “Good luck, Eddie,” I muttered.

“Good luck, world, you mean,” said Woodruff.

“My god, Woodruff, was that a joke? You might be human after all. By the way, do you have a first name? ‘Special Agent Woodruff’ might stand out more than your suit.”

“Yeah, it’s Steve.”

I showed him his room and proceeded to set up the dining room as our operations office. The previous tenant had left a large oak table and chairs, which was good since I didn’t keep much that Brian and I had together.

“We’re off the beaten path here but we’d better agree on a cover story for when we’re out and about. I’m not well known around town, I keep pretty much to myself. Still, a number the restaurant owners and waiters are my family, so we’ll need some kind of reason for us to be around together. It would probably be best if they didn’t know you were FBI.”

“What do you suggest? What would be plausible?”

“I don’t know if you’re going to like this, but I think it’s the best idea. Word will get back through my family that I’m around town with some guy. They’ll want to know what’s going on. And we want my family to be cooperative – they’re better connected than Eddie and they’re everywhere, hear everything.”

“So, what’s the deal?”

“You’re my new lover.”

“What?”

“I’m gay. My last relationship broke up a couple of years back. I haven’t been seeing anyone. They all liked Brian, my ex-, and they’re always looking for someone for me. They’ll fill in the blanks, we can just let them. I think it’s the best way for you to have a reason to be here, not to be an outsider, not to draw attention to yourself. You’ll never make a move in this town if they’re watching you.”

End of Chapter 3
Copyright © 2014 RolandQ; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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