Thibodeaux stared at the photo, “We need to have a chat with Carr and see what he has to say.” Greyfield agreed and they grabbed their coats and weapons and headed for the garage.
Carr’s house was in a middle class neighborhood known as Gretna on the west bank of the Mississippi River. They crossed the Crescent City Connection and exited the first exit. His house was located on Terry Parkway, it was a modest two story home probably built sometime in the 70s. They parked in the driveway and knocked on the front door; they waited and received no response. They heard no noise from the inside, Greyfield looked at Thibodeaux, “Shit, you think we got enough to get a warrant” Thibodeaux thought that over for a few second “Naw, not a chance a judge is gonna give us anything on a couple of drawings and a photo, we got nothing to tie any of this together, let’s call it a day and tomorrow see with we can dig up that might get the DAs attention.” Greyfield agreed but as they walked to the car Greyfield stopped “Wait, we have an eye witness that maybe can place Carr with one of the vehicles used in the Calliope
Thibodeaux smiled “Right, what was his name; actually we have two of them, the guy who sold the car and the guy who sold the dummy grenades. They pulled the Calliope file from their car and looked up the names. Greyfield found them first, “Here they are, car seller was Walter Harris and the other guy was Marvin Williamson.” Thibodeaux climbed in the driver’s seat “Well, looks like we taken a ride to Slidell.”
They crossed the bridge again and headed back toward Interstate 10 East. The closest address was that of Walter Harris. Harris had sold a sedan that had been used in the Calliope shootings. They knocked on the door and Harris answered; Thibodeaux took out the photo of Jessie Carr and handed it to Harris, “Mr. Harris, take a look at this and tell me if you recognize this man.” Harris studied the photo, shaking his head he said “You know, it kind of looks like the guy that bought my car, but it was dark and late and I really couldn’t be sure. I mean his hair was like this but I just don’t know for sure.” Thibodeaux cursed under his breath, but knew this was the best they were going to get from this guy. All the seller saw was the cash in the buyers hand and didn’t care about anything else. They thanked Harris and headed toward Louie’s Military Surplus.
The store was closed, but luckily for them Marvin Williamson lived above it. They called his phone number and asked if he had a minute to look at a picture. The lights in the store came on and Williamson was opening the door. “Hello detectives, working a little late.” They shook hands and Thibodeaux handed the photo to him “Marvin, do you recognize this man?” Williamson took his reading glasses out of his top pocket and studied the photo. “Oh yea, this is the guy who bought the two dummy grenades you were asking about.” Thibodeaux looked at Greyfield and said “Ok Marvin, you are sure this is him?” Marvin once again studied the photo “Absolutely, this is definitely the man.” The detectives thanked him for his time and headed back toward New Orleans.
In the car Thibodeaux said “Ok, now we need that search warrant, we are finally getting somewhere.” Even though it was late Greyfield contacted an Assistant District Attorney by the name of Harry Brumfield. Brumfield was still in his office and they arranged to meet him there.
They arrived at the District Attorney’s office, on Erato St. one hour later. Brumfield was a young prosecutor recently hired by the DA. He was 29 years old, dressed in a grey suit with his red tie hanging loosely around his neck; he stood as the detectives entered his office. They introduced themselves and got down to business. Thibodeaux pulled the photo and a signed statement they had obtained from Marvin Williamson before leaving Slidell. “Ok Harry, here’s what we got. You know about the Calliope murders, this photo was taken by Jefferson Parish Sheriff’s Office while tailing Roger Buckle, the attorney who was murdered. They were following him in conjunction with the disappearance of his partner. DNA was recovered from the Buckle murders that linked two of the Calliope victims to that crime. You with me so far;” Harry shook his head so Thibodeaux continued “Ok, in the Calliope murders a dummy grenade was recovered from the scene and another removed from a car used in the killings. This is definitely the man who purchased the dummy grenades; I have a signed statement from the seller attesting to this.”
Harry Brumfield sat down and studied the statement and the photo. “So let me get this straight, somehow the Calliope murders are tied to this attorney who was killed in his home in Jefferson Parish.”
Greyfield shaking his head said “Right, we don’t know why, but this guy either for revenge or some other reason was part of the Calliope killings.”
Brumfield thought this over. “So my assumption is you want a search warrant for his home and possibly an arrest warrant based on this. Both detectives nodded their heads “You can put the dummy grenade used in the Calliope in this guy’s hands.” He studied his notes “Jessie Carr’s hands.” This time Thibodeaux answered, “Right, he purchased both of them two days before the murders.”
Brumfield considered this “Are these grenades marked with serial numbers or lot numbers?” Greyfield had a bad feeling where this was going. “No Harry, they are non lethal so aren’t marked in any way.” Brumfield look at them and asked “Then how do we know that the grenades Jessie Carr purchased are the same ones found at the murder scene and in the car?”
Both detectives looked at each other and shook their heads, Thibodeaux tried to gain some momentum, “Well Harry, they were purchased right before the killings and were the only ones purchased locally.”
Brumfield answered, “I understand what you are saying, but if I take this to a judge he is going to ask how I know for sure these are the exact same grenades.”
Thibodeaux looked down and signed “Shit Harry, we know this guy is involved, we need to get into his house to prove it. Give it a shot anyway; run this by a judge, we are talking about four murders here.”
Brumfield’s father had been a cop and he knew how difficult the job could be, he didn’t want to tell these guys no, so he at least would make an attempt. He called a judge that he felt would be the most agreeable, but still struck out. There just wasn’t enough there to justify a search warrant.
The detectives thanked Brumfield for his efforts and headed to their car. Greyfield said “Let’s make one more pass at Carr’s house, maybe he’s home and will talk to us.” Thibodeaux agreed, so once again they headed across the Crescent City Connection. There was no answer at Carr’s door and this time they did call it a night. Thibodeaux decided to have a beer.
Chapter 7
Ryan Thibodeaux decided to call Detective Cheryl Manning with the Jefferson Sheriff’s Department to bring her up to speed on the Jessie Carr situation. He reached her on her cell and asked her if she would meet him at a cop bar in Old Metairie called the Blue Light. She agreed and arrived ten minutes after him. Thibodeaux was sitting at the bar when Manning arrived; he had never met her before but had been told she was a looker. Cheryl Manning was a 34 year old tall blond who had once been Miss New Orleans. She was married at 23, but like many cops, her marriage didn’t last long. She was now divorced and living alone.
She saw him immediately and there could be no mistake who he was. Thibodeaux was a giant of a man. He had played linebacker for Mississippi State University and was drafted into the pros, unfortunately a blown out knee ended his career early and he returned to New Orleans to follow in his dad’s footsteps. Thibodeaux’s dad had been a Major in NOPD many years earlier.
Thibodeaux stood and greeted Manning; they ordered a round of beers and headed to an empty table. Manning was always outspoken “Damn Thibodeaux, everyone said you was a hunk, you sure are.” She had to laugh when the big man turned a deep shade of red. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” she said.
Shaking his head Thibodeaux took a long swallow of his beer and said.”Thank You, you awful nice to look at yourself.” They both laughed so much other patrons were trying to figure out what the joke was.
Now that the ice was broken Thibodea
ux began explaining what his partner and he had been up to after receiving her faxed. He took her through the visit with the ADA and right to the last stop at Carr’s house. She sat silent through his explanation, when he was finished she asked, “So you can’t get a warrant on Carr’s house, do you have someone sitting on it now.”
Thibodeaux shook his head “Shit no, we don’t have the manpower for that and anyway, it’s in Jefferson, not in my jurisdiction.” Manning understood, manpower and money crunch was a problem with all departments. “I wish I could help you with that, but without something more concrete my boss would shit if I tried to get someone assigned to watch that house. Damn, there has got to be some piece of this we are missing, none of this makes sense.”
Thibodeaux agreed “No kidding, this guy Carr, I checked on him just like you did, clean record, Army Veteran, good job until his wife was murdered, don’t make any sense. Suddenly he turns up in the middle of a multiple murder investigation, I don’t know.”
Manning and Thibodeaux quietly finished their beers and signaled the bartender for another round. Manning said “I don’t see this being a revenge thing, I mean, Buckles law firm got Carr’s wife’s murder out on a technicality. Why would he go after Buckles’ killers, seems he would want to give them a medal.” Manning was quiet a minute then said “What about the other guy, the one that disappeared, Allen or something like that.” Thibodeaux shook his head “Yea Allen, that was the other guy, never found a trace of him, we assumed he took out Buckles partner, Shuster, then took off, but no one knows. Then two years later Buckle and his wife get done in with that home invasion, now this guy shows up. I have no idea.”
They both sat pondering the situation, only coming up with more questions and no answers. Manning broke the ice, “Shit, it’s getting late and we are solving neither of our cases.” Shaking his head Thibodeaux agreed “ Hell Manning, your case is solved, your attorney was killed by a couple of gangbangers from the Calliope, but I got shit, I got four dead bangers, a fucking white guy, who may or may not be involved, a black guy who picked up one of the cars used in the Calliope, nothing else.” Manning stared and said “Wait, what black guy we talking about?”
Thibodeaux realized Manning didn’t have the details “Oh I thought you knew, two cars were used in the project, one was purchased by our white guy, the other, a Escalade, was purchased by a thin black guy with ID from a dead drug dealer, oh sorry, alleged drug dealer, who was murdered up North. I know this must all mean something, but besides a headache I got nothing.”
Manning thought a minute “I was reading the report on the meeting between Buckle and Carr and one time it did mention a third guy at the meeting, a thin black guy.” Thibodeaux almost lost it “Please tell me you have a picture of this guy also.” Manning shook her head, “No he was only there once and our guys didn’t get a shot of him.”
“Fuck” was Thibodeaux’s response, than he continued “So we just added another piece to my puzzle. This black guy was connected to Carr and Buckle, if it’s the same guy, and I would be willing to bet it is.”
Manning looked at Thibodeaux and said, “Oh and call me Cheryl they call me Manning at work.” Thibodeaux smiled, “Ok Cheryl, by the way; are you married or whatever?” Manning had to smile at that “No I’m not married and I’m not whatever either.” They both laughed, Thibodeaux said, “Well, I guess we better call it a night, can I drive you home or anything?” Manning answered, “I have my car here, but you can follow me Mr. Policeman and make sure I get home safely.”
Thibodeaux followed her home and made sure she was safe, all night.
Chapter 8
It had been three days since I had killed Halsey and Carl had killed Frenchy. We were still in the Marriott in Tallahassee Fl trying to figure out our next move. Our first goal was to make sure the women were safe, and then deal with the threat. We finally talked the women into taking a vacation farther south; we rented a car at the Marriott for two weeks and using false ID they headed to Orlando. We couldn’t let them use our cars, they were probably known to Guzman. I was hoping two weeks was going to be enough time to clear up our problem, if not, we would need to move them again.
Maybe it was a false sense of security, but just knowing the women were safe made us all able to relax, but just a little. We needed to make a move and knew our move had to happen in New York. We loaded one of our cars with our weapons and other necessary items. We checked out of the hotel but couldn’t leave the extra vehicles parked there, so we all drove to the Tallahassee Airport. Carl and I parked our cars in the long term lot, Shelby picked us up at the baggage pickup and we headed north.
We had no plan, but if we waited, sooner or later the problem would come to us. We all preferred to take action and go on the offense. We weren’t kidding ourselves, we knew very little about Guzman, but we had to assume he had a small army working for him. I only knew one person living in that area that might have any information on Guzman. Lieutenant, now Captain James O’Shea with the Camden Police Department; O’Shea and I had met when I pulled a gun on him and framed him for the killing of Dominic Perroni. Well I guess framed isn’t the right word, more like helped. O’Shea was given credit for taking down the Perroni Organization and promoted to Captain. He would probably prefer to shoot me on site, but he was the only possible source of information I had.
Chapter 9
Detectives Thibodeaux and Manning woke up the following morning and realized they were both late. They looked over at each other and decided, since they were late anyway, they may as well have a good reason.
Forty five minutes later they were finished and had taken a shower together. They walked out of Manning’s house and kissed goodbye. Just at that moment Thibodeaux’s phone rang; it was Greyfield, his partner. It seemed sometimes during the night the New Orleans judge had become sympathetic, called a Jefferson Parish judge, who was a golfing buddy, and he agreed to issue a search warrant for Jessie Carr’s house. However, the warrant was very specific, they were looking for weapons or clothing used in the Calliope Project murders. Thibodeaux told Manning, and since she was a Jefferson Parish Sheriff, would accompany them to the house.
The drive was short and when they arrived on Terry Parkway Greyfield was already there with a Jefferson Parish marked unit. Thibodeaux introduced Manning to his partner; Greyfield took one look at Manning, looked at Thibodeaux and smiled. Thibodeaux’s reputation with the ladies was very well known. Greyfield could have sworn that both Thibodeaux and Manning blushed.
They approached the house, knocked and rang the door bell. When no one answered in two minutes one of the uniform Jefferson Parish Officers tried but was unable to pick the lock. Thibodeaux told everyone to step back, and after several hard kicks, the front door opened.
A quick sweep of the house found no one present, so a systematic search was planned. The house was a two story with all the bedrooms and an office being on the top floor. The uniforms were assigned to search the first floor and the detectives went upstairs.
Two bedrooms contained beds that were unmade. A thorough search of the lockers in those bedrooms turned up women’s and men’s clothing. The dressers and chest in each room contained the same; however, none of it seemed stained with what could be blood. No weapons, drugs, or other incriminating evidence turned up in either bedroom. The office was actually two bedrooms with a wall removed to create one large room. The locker contained a large safe and a large gun safe, both open and empty. The desk contained nothing of interest either, there were several pictures on the desk, and one in particular peaked Thibodeaux’s interest. It was a picture of three men, one was Carr, one was a short solidly built white man, but the other was a thin black man. All had military style haircuts and were apparently on a beach somewhere smiling at the camera. Thibodeaux looked closely and saw St Maartin 2001, written on the bottom of the picture.
Other pictures contained the same men in various poses with two women. Carr’s records indicated he had remarried Rachael Cl
ark. Thibodeaux had no idea which of the women in the picture was Carr’s wife, but it was obviously one of them. Another woman was also in the pictures, she was posing with a thin black man. Finding nothing upstairs they went down the steps to join the uniforms on the first floor. They had found nothing incriminating but Thibodeaux noticed more pictures on the mantel. The one that interested him most was of the same three men, obviously many years ago. They were in camouflage uniforms, standing in front of a helicopter. The two white men both carried scoped rifles the black man wore a flight suit and had a pilot’s wings on his uniform and a helmet. The insignia on his uniform was that of an officer.
The black man had peaked Thibodeaux’s interest because the Escalade used in the Calliope murders had been purchased by a thin black man with short hair. Now this description would probably fit one fourth of the residents of New Orleans, but posing in the picture with Carr was the kicker.
Now the big question was, could he legally take these photos to show the witness and still be within the legal limits of the search warrant. Thibodeaux had been burned by a judge before because of using what the courts deemed, too much latitude not within the guidelines of the warrant.
Thibodeaux contacted ADA Brumfield, who went to his boss, who went to his boss, who went to the DA. Word came down; since the man in the picture was suspected of being involved in the crime which the search warrant was issued for, a picture could be seized. Thibodeaux took what appeared to be the latest photo from upstairs, the one of the three men on the beach. He also took the one of the men in uniform hoping to be able to read the nametags on their uniforms. They secured the door as best they could, thanked the uniformed officers, and headed to NOPD Headquarters and the Homicide Office.
Chapter 10
Somewhere around Richmond I decided it was time to make the call I had been trying to avoid. I had no idea what to say or what to do, but I had no one else to rely on. We stopped at a Convenience store and purchased a prepaid cell phone with cash. Back on the interstate we stopped at a rest stop to fill the tank; I walked a distance away from the noise and called.