‘What kind of stuff are you detecting?’
‘I’m mostly after hands-on crime; robberies, muggings, car jacking, B&E. You know, the stuff that attracts the higher echelons of our citizenry.’
‘Anything fun and interesting on your plate at the moment.’
‘Yes, in fact, we have a strange case that just landed on my desk yesterday.’ Donald went on to rough it out for Josh while their pastrami sandwiches were on the way.
‘How is the local crime rate overall? The town looks quiet and benign.’
‘Looks can be deceiving. The town is pretty scrubbed up and small gage but there is an element’….
‘What little I have seen of the town looks comfy cozy. Any slums?’
‘Not what big city people would recognize as slums but we have rough elements in patches. Not a strong gang culture – of course we stay on top of that – but some drug trade. And, we have our share of just plain nit-wits who do the dumbest things. Sometimes I just shake my head in disbelief.’
‘But, I gather this caper you just described to me is not likely by the numb nuts contingent.’
‘No. In fact, it is unusually polished for this area. I’m still trying to get my mind around it.’
‘Well, let me know if we can help.’
‘Who’s ‘we’ and what kind of help? It’s time we talked about you for awhile.’
Josh filled Donald on his life track since they had known each other in the military; the work as investigative reporter for the LA Times, his move to Maine where he met Dana, their penchant for stumbling into ‘situations’ and resolving them and that several had involved working with the FBI.
‘And, this missing and mysterious Dana, where is she hidden?’
‘Hiding in plain sight. She’s a history professor at Bowdoin College in Brunswick, Maine and we live close by. She’ll be here tomorrow, in fact, and, if you can avoid cursing like the sailor you will always be, I may deign to allow you a brief visit with my lovely and beloved. Perhaps bringing your squeeze along would suppress your normally outrageous behavior.’
‘A well-meant offer, I’m sure, but I have no active duty wife at the moment. My former mate and I tore the sheet five years ago, amicably but definitively. I have visitation rights and we’re polite. No bombs thrown. As to my language, I guarantee nothing but that my mantle as a law enforcement professional suppresses overt displays of sociopathic behavior.’
‘A grateful city rejoices. Nonetheless, wife or not, my invitation can extend to some good and great friend, if you have any friends, that is.’
‘I’ll think on that.’
* * * * * * *
Josh Malley had morphed from Marine to investigative reporter to corporate consultant. He was working on a project for the State of Florida Economic Development Department to see what could be done to hold onto the jobs related to the presence of Central Command at McDill AFB in Tampa. Central Command, not the Pentagon, had been the operations center for the running the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and had attracted a number of defense contractors to support that effort. But, with the wars winding down and Florida having high unemployment already, the state was eager not to lose too many more high paying jobs if it could be avoided. Josh, as a good bridge between military and corporate, was engaged to interview the contractors to get their input and suggestions. He had done his interviews, summarized his findings and recommendations and had submitted it all to Tallahassee. It was now in the hands of the politicians so he had a pause in the project while they decided if and how to act on his report.
His wife, Dana – they had never married but were a happy, committed couple like Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell – was an academician, a history professor at Bowdoin College. She, coincidently, had business in town giving a talk at Eckerd College and to consult with a colleague at University of South Florida on a paper they were co-authoring. Josh picked her up at Tampa International (TIA), one of the best designed airports in the country, and they retired to a wonderful and historic St. Petersburg hotel, The Vinoy, in the center of town and on the water of Tampa Bay.
‘Well, my much-missed buddy, what have you been up to during these two weeks? Sure is pretty here. Have you gotten into any trouble without momma?’
‘Nay, nay, lass. I’m a hard working dude at least until yesterday. My report is in and I need some love and attention from my mate. I’m hoping you will have time to join me in a little exploring. Let’s start with your body.’
‘Hold up, hoss. Let me unpack and take a nice, steamy shower then we shall attend to your needs.’
‘Well, get on with it.’
‘Okay, okay. So you haven’t looked around any at all?’
‘Hey, I’ve been living in a modest motel, read ‘fleabag’, over in Tampatown. It was convenient for the access to the base and the military contractors so I just got here to St. Pete. We’ll discover it together.’
‘Great. Let me get my smelly traveling self into that shower. Do you know where to start in discovering St. Pete?’
Dana had slipped into bathroom but left the door ajar. Josh shouted in above the sound of the running shower water. ‘We’re having dinner tonight right here at the hotel with an old Navy pal who’s a local cop. He’s divorced but he may or may not bring someone along. Perhaps they’ll give us some advice on where to start.’
After some rest and relaxation and a short nap, they dressed casually and, with some directions from the concierge, strode out for a brisk exploratory walk down Beach Boulevard. It was delightful with shops, an art museum, a smaller museum for art glass, sidewalk cafes and, in a couple of blocks, an intersection that led out a causeway to a strange, four storey tall inverted pyramid structure called ‘The Pier’. They picked up the pace and did a power walk for the quarter mile or so to see what was there. The Pier is a collection of shell and t-shirt shops, an arcade, some beachwear boutiques, a restaurant, a fast food court and a lovely view over the Bay and back to see the downtown condo and office high rise buildings that comprise the center of the city. Close at hand is a private airport buzzing with small planes and several marinas and yacht basins chock full of sailboats and cabin cruisers. They walked back to The Vinoy feeling it a great opening tour of a sweet and approachable town.
* * * * * * *
At the appointed hour, Josh looked up from the bar of the Vinoy and spotted Detective Donald Flint, his graying hair unruly, entering the dining room with an attractive lady in working clothes of slacks and blazer, her dark hair pulled back in a bun. Even from a distance, he and Dana noted her tawny complexion, athletic build and confident movements. Whoever she is and whatever she does, she’s comfortable in her own skin. She and Donald waved off the maître de and headed for the bar. Something about the way they moved as a unit told Josh and Dana that they had an unconventional relationship. No casual girlfriend she.
‘This must be the famous school teacher from the frozen north Josh is so proud of. Hi, Dana, I’m Donald Flint and this is my partner, Detective Marianne McGruder. Josh suggested I bring a friend and Marianne was kind enough to join us.’
‘I’m delighted to meet you both. I don’t allow Josh to work with anyone as gorgeous as Marianne. You’re a lucky guy.’
Marianne laughed, ‘I’m sure he might wish a more reasonable partner, but thanks.’
‘Drinks here or at the table?’ Josh inquired. ‘We just got here ourselves.’
‘Let’s do the table, if you don’t mind,’ said Marianne. ‘I’ve been on my feet enough today. Gumshoe business, you know.’
‘Ah, yes. Pounding the beat. Does Flint make you run alongside when he uses his unmarked but not unnoticed squad car?’
‘Funny you should mention that. I actually did some time in the Secret Service where we actually did run alongside VIP vehicles. Not that Flint is a VIP, of course.’
As they were shown to their table, Josh held Dana’s chair while he noted that the detectives j
ust flopped down unceremoniously. Josh thought, I guess that’s normal protocol for cops who work together all day every day.
As the dinner progressed and everyone began to relax with one another, laughter ensued and personal histories were sketched in. Everyone was interested in the other’s backstories and everyone had professional-level interviewing skills. It was repartee with rich content. Josh and Dana noted how easily Donald and Marianne could finish each other’s sentences and seamlessly interleave the episodes of whatever story they were telling.
At one point, Dana observed, ‘You two make a great partnership,’ and noted Donald and Marianne’s glances to each other. Both Dana and Josh were thinking, Aha, this is more than a crime-busting partnership.
With much insistent prodding by Josh and Dana, Marianne’s story was eventually revealed. Flint just sat back and watched her with obvious pride and admiration.
Marianne McGruder was born and raised on Daufuskie Island, one of the South Carolina offshore islands written about by Pat Conroy. It was rice growing country tended by slaves until the Civil War. When the Federal troops arrived and the owners/masters fled to the mainland, the slaves were freed. Daufuskie was always a reluctant appendage of South Carolina that made minimal effort to serve the mostly black inhabitants. Marianne’s father was a white school teacher who volunteered to run the pitifully-supported school. He married a local Negress in secret and Marianne was their only daughter. She looks white and was accepted as white by the few white people on Daufuskie island. She was well and diligently educated by her mother and father and was spotted for her intellect when she commuted to Hilton Head for high school. Her mainland mentor/teacher arranged financial support for her to attend Clemson where she achieved honors in sociology supplemented with correspondence courses in law enforcement and a short course at Quantico.
Although aggressively pursued by the Marine Corps and the FBI, she elected to go with the Secret Service during the Reagan and Clinton administrations. When her mother fell ill in St. Petersburg, she resigned, moved to St. Pete and applied for a position with the SPPD. Being of mixed race, she is comfortable in the black community, speaks the language and is trusted. She maintains contacts in the FBI and Secret Service.
Josh and Dana reveled in her story and provided toasts and huzzahs in encouragement. ‘McG’ – as she is known to workmates – was encouraged to provide more detail of her story than she normally allowed.
Josh responded with a brief review of the adventures he and Dana had gotten into – the Dearborn terrorist incident, the Vandenberg AFB sabotage event, the rescue of Senator Van Dyne’s daughter – that had put them in partnership with the FBI. They found that Josh and Dana and McG had Bureau contacts in common.
By the end of the evening, the dinner, lubricated with alcohol and laughter and mutual appreciation, had bonded them although no mention was made of the diaphanous nature of
McG and Donald’s close personal relationship.
The evening ended with Marianne and Donald inviting Josh to ride with them on their rounds the next day, knowing that Dana was tied up with her talk and conference.
* * * * * * *
Josh showed up at the ‘Investigative Services Bureau’ bearing, what else?, a brimming box of donuts. Although Donald and McG laughed at his stereotype effrontery, they and a sizable proportion of the other detecting professionals dipped into the box and emptied it within ten minutes. There were some grunts and quips but no overt expressions of thankfulness. Josh had expected none.
After the morning meeting during which Donald and McG blocked out the ‘Junior Caper’, as it was to be called, the work assignments were parceled out and the Investigative Service people dispersed to plunge into the day’s hard, detailed and frequently boring job of gathering the bits and pieces of information from which cases are closed. Josh had been introduced to the staff at the meeting and was hence paid no particular attention as he cruised about the department looking over display boards and listening in to conversations and interviews of suspects who were brought in and questioned.
As lunch time came and went, Josh volunteered to walk over to Ferg’s and pick up some chow for the gang. This further cemented his status as a welcome visitor, especially when he offered to pick up the tab. Rather than do individual orders, he called Ferg’s and ordered a couple of sandwich platter spreads. Ferg’s had a couple of lackeys walk them over. The platters were as large as manhole covers and had all the fixin’s for sandwiches. They were put on a cleared conference room table where the real cops and support cops of the department helped themselves compliments of Flint’s old Marine buddy.
Later in the afternoon, Flint and Marianne had to make a run and invited Josh to ride along. He sat in the ‘perp seat’ in the back and talked to them through the sturdy wire mesh barrier. As they were riding out to interview some witnesses to a recent lawless event, Josh decided to drop the bomb.
‘So, how long have you two been a couple?’
Donald and Marianne snapped a look at each other.
Donald, ‘What makes you say a thing like that? We’re just a team that’….
‘Don’t try to shit a shitter, pals. If you were listening last night you would recall that I was an investigative reporter and Dana is a researcher. Both of us have awards and credentials to attest that we can read people pretty well. It was obvious to us, at least, that you have wonderful chemistry and mutual respect and a lot of affection for one another, way beyond accompanying each other to crime scenes. We think you’re a great couple and if you aren’t bagging it, you should be.’
Marianne burst out laughing. ‘Jesus Christ, are we that obvious?’
‘Not to the untrained eye and ear, perhaps, but remember that we have trained eyes and ears. And, by the way, Dana and I see you as a delightfully well-matched couple, for whatever that’s worth.’
Marianne sighed. ‘Actually, Josh, that’s worth a lot. We have been so sneaky and paranoid that we have no one to talk with about this. We have to practically be hostile to each other at work.’
‘So, what’s the problem? Is it a fireable offense to date or marry or co-hab with a work mate?’
‘No, and we could do that but it would preclude our being partners and we like being partners in our work.’
‘Too bad. It worked well for Nick and Nora Charles.’
‘They weren’t cops in a bureaucracy that calls detectives ‘Investigative Services’.’
‘Point taken.’
The threesome rode around taking interviews and inspecting crime scenes. At the end of the shift, they parted with an open ended invitation for Josh to return and to bring Dana.
* * * * * *
The Early Birds had not been resting on their laurels or their feathers. They had a backlog of elders who needed their help so another and larger caper was in planning and preparation. It was one that had been in the back of Letticia’s mind for quite some time and it was time to flesh out the plan with the help of Bernard Fruehauf.
The audacity of it caused The General to roar his approval. ‘You are amazing, madam. I like the way you think. Victory does not come to the timid. We must confer with the McCoys about logistics and construction of the big bomb that we shall henceforth refer to as ‘BB’. Leave that part to me. Have you secured the ‘shelter’ or shall I address that as well?’
‘No, Bernard. I’ve already made arrangements for the ‘shelter’ as you call it.’
‘And the cast? Will we need the entire contingent?’
‘No. This will be done with a short staff, at least the speaking part. Leave it to me to prepare the actor.’
‘Will I have a speaking part like last time? I enjoyed being the distressed motorist on that one.’
‘I may try young Sheldon as the master of ceremonies on this one as there is some heavy lifting involved. You may have to sit this one out in deference to your heart condition. But, as always, I depend on your organizatio
n skills and intel. We have the basic schedule and timing blocked in but need up-to-the-minute knowledge to avoid too early a response from law enforcement.’
‘Alright, then. I suppose my Oscar will have to wait for a subsequent production. I’ll get right on the intel update and coordinating the BB and logistics with the boys. I’ll get back with you soon with an update.’
‘You’re a good man, Bernard. I don’t know what I would do without you.’
‘Bernie’ Fruehauf was career military as was his father. Gray haired, square jawed with military bearing and posture. Not well rounded socially or culturally but comes into his own for strategy, planning and executing operations. He can and has timed capers to the second. NO loose ends.
He rose to one-star rank primarily on his facility with planning and managing ‘black ops’ secret missions for intelligence gathering and/or offensive maneuvers. He was a principled man and believed in the nobility of warfare and the rules of a fair fight. Slowly his disaffection with the US military establishment and its civilian guidance grew until he was openly critical of the expedience of decisions like ‘soft’ de-Nazification, Vietnam ‘body counts’ and, more recently, the outrages of Abu Ghraib and ‘enhanced interrogations’. He was eased out with the requisite encomiums and ceremony but moved out, nonetheless. He was still ready for a good fight but would only play on the team of the ‘good guys’ and for a meaningful goal. He was known and respected in the upper echelons of the CIA and Army as a bit of an iconoclast and valued for it. He also has degenerative heart disease.