September 12th, 2016. 10:00AM
Burlwood, Indiana
Clyde Rambo watched his fax machine as several more feet printed from the scroll of paper inside. There was a lot more to the transmission from Linda Buell, an old friend at the Elsmere Circuit Court, than he expected. What's more, many of the words he saw as he skimmed the incoming documents were inflammatory and suspicious. He was transfixed by one page in particular, which had been the first to print in the deluge of legal documents. Mystified, he read it in its entirety many times over. It was heavily redacted, but there was still much to be gleaned from it -- and plenty to worry about. Checking it again, he read:
Grand Jury Deposition of Father Carl Lovett a CI. Witness sworn in by Judge Eldon Casella on this 5th day of September, 2016. It is the testimony of Father Carl Lovett, offered freely and willingly with no promise of immunity or compensation that on July 24th, 2016 one Charles Edward Murphy confessed to him that he had participated in the murder of one Billy Marsh. According to his confession, he kidnapped the boy at the urging of one Russell Davis Parker and took him to 24 Confederate Way where the two of them killed, mutilated, destroyed and planned to dispose of the body of Billy Marsh. The remains were placed in the back of Murphy's Buick Lesabre, and he himself disposed of them in the patch of woods behind Burlwood Meadows. It is Mister Lovett's testimony that Russell Parker allegedly aided in the dismemberment of the corpse and disposed of the remains behind Burlwood Meadows and has had no further contact with Murphy since that date. The body was dismembered in Parker's garage, with the use of his table saw, the blade of which Parker has turned over to the custody of the Elsemere County PD. Mister Parker and Mister Lovett, with the prior's urging, have made themselves available for further questioning at the discretion of this court and Sheriff Ron Boudreaux. This document shall remained sealed, as will the identity of Mister Lovett and Mister Parker until such time as disclosure is required by law.
Shaking his head, Clyde tried to discern what could possibly be hidden under those foreboding blocks of blackness. Whatever it was, it was likely damning for Chucky because he saw no other solid evidence in the pages coiling out of his fax machine that would logically lead to his indictment in the murder of little Billy Marsh. Whatever the words under the redactions were, they were hidden maliciously to hamper the investigation of this case by anyone who wasn't named Ron Boudreaux. In Clyde's mind, that was so typical of the man who had usurped power from him so many years ago. He was cunning, he was devious, and he was a snake.
The second half of the papers rolling from his thermal machine related to that side of the man specifically. They were outlines of shady deals and covert maneuvers to manipulate the letter of the law to his whim, and when coupled with the testimony of Jake Gigu?re, well... they were incriminating as hell.
Dropping back to the pages related to the case of Billy Marsh, Rambo checked his memory for any instance in which he'd heard of a grand jury affadivit with features like the sorts of things he saw at the top of his paper roll. After much thought, he realized that in the entirety of his long career, he had never seen or heard of the letters CI being invoked in any criminal case ever tried in Elsmere County, let alone emblazoned on an official report or deposition. That title was generally reserved for cases involving organized crime, when revealing the name of a confidential informant would almost certainly result in the death or disappearance of said informant. Its use in this case was odd, and it was more than a bit suspicious.
The incoming fax records together with the copies of reports he'd received from Jake made it flagrantly obvious that something was rotten in Burlwood, and Ron Boudreaux was operating the strings of a sinister marionette with his masterful zeal. In his unconstitutional puppet show, the first act featured his own behind the scenes chicanery. The second told the tale of a crime that very closely mirrored the murders of the past, and the third act would involve the execution of Charles Edward Murphy. The crooked son of a bitch was determined to see the show all the way through to that end, and he would have a clear path to doing so if not for Jake's intervention.
His program could be further interrupted by the dropping of a thick and heavy blue curtain that would overwhelm even the King of Elsmere County himself. The papers continuing to print as he spooled the coil painted an outline of what that would look like, but Clyde was going to have to invest a lot of personal time to make it a reality. To ensure that the blindfold of justice was finally lifted just enough for the world to see exactly what was happening on the King's watch, an old tag team would have to make its way to the ring to do battle. If he could put it all together, though, if he could make the information he was receiving tie in with what Jake had told him, he could reveal the entire truth. He could prove that the emperor had no clothes, and that he was hideous in his nudity. Finally setting that right would bring him great pleasure, and it could shed new light on the case against Chucky, because it was the emperor who was keeping everything related to that so tightly shaded.
Two birds dead with one phone call, that was the goal. It was going to be a tough call to make, because he'd never reached out to the man he once considered a close friend since he left Burlwood in 1997. That was a violation of his word, because he'd promised to keep in touch with the man he worked so closely with through such a storm of hard times. Now that he was finally going to make good on his oath, he was doing so only to ask for more help. That was selfish, it was rude and it was unfair. If he knew Alberto Gomez as well as he thought he did, however, it wouldn't be a big problem at all.
Before reaching out to him, Clyde wanted a bit more information from Jacob, the point man in the investigation into the Billy Marsh case. It seemed pretty clear that Jake had no idea Chucky had been arrested on the testimony of a confidential informant, because he would've likely asked a litany of questions about that program in an effort to figure out who the informant was if he did. With that in mind, Rambo was curious what the word on the street was about what led to Chucky being charged.
Referencing the scrap piece of paper he'd written Jake's number on, he spun out the digits on his ancient rotary phone. It rang for quite some time, which was a surprise because it was late enough in the morning that Clyde figured that Burlwood's answer to ace detective Bulldog Drummond would already be knee deep in the trenches trying to sniff out clues. When the call was eventually handed over to voicemail, Rambo identified himself and posed a simple question; What evidence were you told that Chucky was arrested on?
Unable to reach Jake, he thought about calling Louie to get the information from him, since he had probably been the one who fed whatever lie Ron Boudreaux dished out to the defense. Realizing that doing so would put his son in an uncomfortable spot, he decided against trying him and returned his attention to the now massive roll of documents from Linda Buell.
Skimming over it again briskly, he flipped through his rolodex until he found the card for his own personal connection to the Federal Bureau of Investigations. The number he had was in the 407 area code, so he hoped it was still good because the 407 is Florida. A man who lived in Florida during his working years was probably likely to either remain or return there for the days of his retirement, which he was certainly enjoying by now.
Spinning his dial again, he listened to the ringing and hoped to hear a familiar voice answer. This round didn't last nearly as long as the one for the call to Jake had, and the voice that spoke when it ended was indeed familiar.
"Gomez here," his old pal said sharply.
Smiling, Rambo replied. "How far over par are you, old man?"
"Clyde?" Gomez chuckled in response. "Jesus, it's good to hear from you! What the hell have you been up to?"
"Oh, sitting around waiting to die and plotting the murder of an intrusive tree!" he answered with a laugh of his own. "But you didn't answer my question."
There was a pause as Gomez pretended to calculate, but Rambo knew he was keenly aware and only putting on a
charade in his calling out of low numbers. "I'm four under!" he declared, and it was obviously bullshit.
"Probably more like four over!" Clyde suggested. "And what hole are you on, seven?"
"Five!" Gomez conceded with a hearty belly laugh, knowing full well he was busted. "Now what's going on, you old dog?"
"Well," Rambo returned, "how would you like to hunt a real life Boudreaux with me?"
THIRTY-FOUR