Rip Tide by Robert F Clifton (small books to read .txt) 📕

After everyone was seated Wallace turned to Alice Baldwin. She sat next to her lawyer. Wallace estimated her to be about five feet ten inches tall and although she was seated he judged her to weigh over two hundred pounds. She wore her light, brown hair short, but styled in a manner that allowed her to comb it into a masculine look or to appear feminine at anytime. She was attired in a navy blue pants suit, white blouse, black flat shoes and wore no jewelry except a large black face wristwatch with a black stretch band. “As I related to you in our telephone conversation last week, we consider you a victim of a crime. And, I want to assure you that at no time will there be any charges against you pertaining to this case”.

“Why would there be any charges against me?”, asked Baldwin.

“Currently, New Jersey has a multitude of sex crimes in its laws. Sodomy could be defined in your case. However, we have the Captain's word. Proceed Captain”, said Jessica Sanford.

“Thank you. Here's what I have as evidence as attempted extortion

on you. I have a video tape recording showing you in bed with who we have identified as Martha Hanes. That tape shows the date and time your activity together was being photographed. We also have paper files initialed by who we think was John Hanes setting a price of between five and ten thousand dollars for him not to reveal the tape. The file also contains the words, Will Take Less Cash For Corporate Info. Could you tell me what that means? What corporate info?”

“I am the C.E.O. of Baldwin & Brown. We manufacture ready made meals for the military, the Red Cross and other emergency responding organizations. I would imagine that the information Hanes would want is any pending or canceled contracts”.

“That makes sense. Now, you are sure that it was John Hanes that you spoke with in relation to the tape and the demands for money”.

“Quite sure”.

Wallace opened his briefcase and removed a police photograph. “Can you tell me who this is?”,he asked.

“Certainly, that's John Hanes”, Baldwin replied.

“Thank you. That photo was taken when we arrested him on a prostitution charge”.

“It's about time”, said Baldwin.

“When was the first time that you saw or met John Hanes?”

“When the son of a bitch rushed into the bedroom while I was in bed with his wife”.

“And Martha Hanes, when did you meet her?”

“The day of the fashion show. I was approached by some sleaze-ball who told me that the models were available for private showings”.

Wallace removed another mug shot from his briefcase. “Is this the guy?”

“Yes. It is”.

“Did he tell you his name?”

“Probably, but I don't remember if he did”.

“Did he use the name Derrick?”, asked Stiles

“Like I said, I don't remember. Anyway, I liked the blond. I'll tell you the truth, she's a knock out and I wanted her. Eventually we met, went to the hotel bar, had a few drinks and she invited me home”.

“Did she mention a price?”, asked Wallace.

“It seems to me it was between five and eight hundred”.

“And you paid”.

“Yep, up front. I still kick myself in the ass. If I had waited I could have left there Scot free. Live and learn, they say”.

“Captain, unless you have something extremely important to ask, I suggest that you look at the video tape that was sent to Miss Baldwin. I think you will find it very interesting,” said Sanford, as she removed a video cassette from a black cardboard sleeve, slid it into the VCR and pushed, PLAY.

As the tape played Wallace watched Alice Baldwin as she and Martha Hanes performed in bed. He looked at the bottom of the tape and noticed that only the date showed. There was no sign of hours, minutes or seconds. It was apparent after seeing the video tapes that were back at headquarters that the tape he was now watching had been altered.

“Notice anything Captain?”, asked Jessica Sanford.

“Certainly, this tape has been altered”, he answered.

“You should also note that this tape only shows me in action. Not once does it show Martha Hanes as an aggressor”, said Baldwin.

“Interesting. You're right. They made you the center of attraction”.

“Well, do you have any other questions to ask my client?. Asked Sanford.

“The most important one. Will you appear in court and testify against John and Martha Hanes if and when they are arrested for attempted extortion?”

Alice Baldwin looked at her lawyer.

“Miss Baldwin will appear as a witness for the state if and when she is subpoenaed”, said Jessica Sanford.

“Excellent. I appreciate it Al. Thank you. I'll make arrangements for members of my squad to take a sworn statement from you in the future”.

“You're quite welcome. Besides what can they do to me. I came out of the closet years ago. I like you Captain. You treat me like a human being”.

Thank you. Now we have to get a move on. We have a train to catch”.

In the backseat of the taxi heading for the railroad station Stiles turned to Wallace and said, “Well, at least we have one witness to testify against the Hane’s”.

“Yeah, on an extortion charge, not murder”, Wallace replied.

At nine twenty the next morning Wallace sat on the edge of his bed and with the bedroom telephone in his hand he dialed the number to the Major Crime Squad. He heard Carol Myers as she answered, “Major Crime Squad, Detective Myers “.

“Carol? Captain Wallace. Frank and I got in late last night. We missed the last train to Atlantic City so we had to travel home by bus. Anyway, we'll be a little late. Is there anything new?”

“Lieutenant Campo dropped off her report. She said to tell you that the prints on the cabinet and the folders match both John and Martha Hanes. She eliminated Tom's and your prints. How did you make out in Washington?”

“Good, we now have a witness that will talk. Anything from Toronto?”

“No sir, not yet”.

“O.K. see you in awhile”.

Wallace stood up placed the telephone on the night table then, still in his underwear boxer shorts walked to the kitchen. There, he pushed the START button on the coffee maker. After that he went to the bathroom where he shaved and showered. As he dressed, he thought about the things he had to do. One, was to set up a meeting with Elroy, the prosecutor, if for nothing else then to update both the extortion and homicide cases.

Dressed and back in the kitchen, he put an English muffin in the toaster, poured a cup of coffee and waited patiently for the muffin to pop up. When it did he removed it, buttered it and after placing it on a paper plate carried it to the kitchen table. Since he was running late he didn't take time to read the morning newspaper. He gulped down his breakfast, left the empty cup and paper plate on the table and on the way to the front door put on the blue blazer as he walked.

As he drove to headquarters he thought again About the case he was building against the Hane's. “John Hanes can't deny the fact that he knew nothing about the tapes. His fingerprints are all over them. The same goes for the files and the papers in them. June Campo said she also found the prints of Martha Hanes on the files. Still, at this point,I don't have anything concrete against Derrick Butler, other than the prostitution charge. However, I still consider him involved in Pauline's murder and the weak link in the case.”

Walking through the squad room he nodded to Myers and Mckenna who sat at their desks. When he got to his own desk in his office he removed the blue blazer and placed it on the clothes tree that stood in the corner. After sitting down he read the pink message slips on top of his desk along with checking mailed correspondence. He didn't find anything that required his immediate attention.

With his office door open Wallace heard the voice of Frank Stiles in the squad room along with the heavy footsteps the man made as he approached the office. “Morning Cap. I figured you could use another cup of coffee this morning”, said Stiles as he placed a white paper bag on the desk.

“If you weren't so damn ugly I'd kiss you”, Wallace replied.

“That's what my wife says”.

“Anything new since I saw your ugly ass yesterday?”

“I heard on the way in that O'Neil wants to go ahead with what he has on the Hanes. He wants to arrest the rest of the wives seen in the tapes. Also, he would like to have our two witnesses, Angela Rodman and Patricia Baker.

“Well, he certainly has a right to them. Rodman is close by. Good luck with him getting Baker back from Nevada”.

“Have you heard from your guy in Toronto?”

“Not yet”.

“Maybe there's no such person as Homer Bule”.

“You saw him in one of the tapes”.

“I saw a guy in bed in the tape. How many men check into hotels and motels with women and register as Mr. and Mrs. George Washington? The man in the tape could have given a phoney name”.

“I'm betting he didn't'.

“I hope you're right. Well, I've got reports to write. Talk with you later”.

“Hey, thanks for the coffee”.

“Yeah”.

Wallace then dialed the telephone number for the City Morgue.

“Doctor Wescoat”.

“Good morning”.

“It's almost afternoon”.

“I got in late last night”.

“How did it go in Washington?”

“Good, actually”.

“And?”

“And what?”

“And, why are you calling?”

“Oh, yeah. I just opened a notice brochure from Hopewell. The New York Symphony canceled. We'll have to make other plans”.

“Did they say why they canceled?”

“No, they never do, but you can bet the reason was due to a lack of ticket sales.”

“Well, I'm not too disappointed. I'll leave it up to you what we do”.

“You know, you could suggest something once in awhile”.

“Very well, just give me a bit of time”.

“You got it. Take all the time you need”.

“You're so patient. Now I have to go. I have a tissue specimen being dyed and timed. Bye”.

Wallace hung up the receiver. He got up and went to his filing cabinet and removed the personal folder he was keeping on the Pauline Harris case. Taking it to his desk he sat down and then began the task of reading and re-reading each report submitted by members of his unit. He read and re-read each report submitted by C.S.I. He re-examined the photographs taken of Pauline Harris body. Pictures taken at the beach where it washed up on shore. He concentrated on the close up photo's of the victims throat. Still, nothing new came to him, no new evidence he might have missed nor any new ideas on how to move forward.

At two twenty five p.m. the telephone on his desk rang. He answered as usual, “Major Crime Squad, Captain Wallace.”

“Wally? Frank Burnside here. How are you?”

“Just great, how about yourself?”

“ I'll get by. Listen I found the guy you are looking for. I have some good news and some bad news”.

“Just give it to me straight”.

“O.K. Homer Bule, your guy, is in Dorothy Billings Hospice. He's been there for the past couple of weeks. He is willing to talk and give a statement”.

“Damn, that's great Frank”, said Wallace.

“Don't get too excited. You haven't heard the bad news”.

“Which is?”

“The fact that he's dying of lung cancer. He could go at any time”.

“Son of a bitch”.

“Well, how you handle it from here is up to you”.

“Thanks Frank. I appreciate what you did”.

“No problem. Here's the address and telephone number of the hospice”.

“Shoot'.

“Four seventy Sherman Way, Toronto. Telephone 416 794 0161”

Call me again if you need anything else. Bye”.

Robert Wallace slowly leaned forward and replaced the receiver.

Chapter Thirteen

Squeeze

When Robert Wallace was finished telling James Elroy, the County Prosecutor about the location of Homer Bule and the fact that

the man was in all probability a material witness, he sat back and waited for the man's reaction.

Elroy took off his eyeglasses and