BLONDE DECEPTION - The Logan Files

by Marshall Huffman

“I know it’s a lot to ask but it could be very helpful. We need to take a hard look at everyone he has dealing with,” Randy added.

  “I will be happy to help if it will get the person responsible for this. I’ll start this afternoon,” she said, blowing her nose once again.

  “Thank you so much. We really appreciate this and I am sure Dr. Ryan would too,” Logan said, handing her his card.

  “Call anytime you are ready and I’ll come pick it up or send someone.”

  “I could just FAX or E-mail it to you. It would be faster that way,” she said.

  “Good. The squad room FAX number is on the card. I don’t do E-mail,” Logan said feeling a little out of touch with the times.

  “FAX it is then. And please give my very best to Dr. Ryan when you see him again. I am looking forward to him getting back to work,” she said.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  When Logan arrived the next morning at the station he was handed two neatly typed, single spaced, pages with names and phone numbers. It was obvious that Mrs. Flossey was a very prodigious administrative assistant. There were one hundred and fourteen names on the two pages. Logan sat down at his desk and started scanning the list.

  “What have you got?” Randy asked, bringing a Diet Coke for Logan.

  “Hey, thanks. That’s better than an apple,” Logan said. “Mrs. Flossey

  has been busy. She sent over two pages of Dr. Ryan’s associates. It’s a hell of a lot more than I expected.”

  “She was right. He does seem to be popular. Can you imagine how many it would be if she had included students?”

  “I don’t even want to think about it,” Logan replied.

  “So now what?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s more information that we can possible use.”

  “What’s the numbers for next to the names?” Randy asked.

  “According to the footnote, it’s how many times he had meetings with them in the past year. No number means he knows them but didn’t have an appointment with them, at least the ones on his appointment calendar.”

  “He sure has a hell of a lot of meetings,” Rand said, skimming the two sheets.

  “Committees I would imagine,” Logan said.

  “One hell of a lot of jabbering. He spends more time in meetings than he does teaching.”

  “Actually I wouldn’t be surprised if that was mostly true. When I was chatting with Mrs. Flossey she mentioned that the average professor spends between two to three hours preparing for every lecture hour. Going over reading materials, updating presentations, making test and such. Then they add on the committees that they have to serve on. It’s a hell of a lot of work for so little appreciation from the general public. All that gripping about is how much time they get off. They work almost as long as we do,” Logan said.

  “Still, I could use a summer off,” he replied.

  “So could most of them. Because their pay generally sucks. Most end up working in the summer to pay the bills,” Logan told him.

  “You got a thing for teachers?” Randy asked.

  “Na, not really, but people always bitch about teachers and try to dump their responsibilities on the school system. I just happen to think they do a hell of a job for little reward. They are a lot like us. They do it because they love what they do. We get off on catching a perp and they get off on a successful student.”

  “Wow. You should write in to the papers.”

  “Sure, right. People know it, they just don’t want to admit it because then they may have to take some responsibility themselves and actually pay them and us what we are really worth,” Logan replied.

  “Whoa. Sorry I brought it up. Now, what about the list?”

  “We are not going to go out and try to get a hundred and fourteen DNA samples. Let’s concentrate on the ones he seems to meet with the most. Let’s compare it to the list of other male instructors that were blackmailed by Sharon and see if we have many matches. You take one sheet and I’ll take the other.”

  The two men started the tedious job of comparing one list to the other. Saying that it was going to take some time was a severe understatement.

  * * *

  Marcia plopped down on a gaudy green vinyl couch and looked at the TV screen, “Hey, is anything on except the news?” she asked.

  “I happen to like the news,” a large black woman replied, turning around to look at her.

  Marcia didn’t say anything; she just sat, twisting her hair around her finger.

  “You got a problem with that?” the woman asked.

  “No. I just thought something lighter may make it better in here. The news is always depressing.”

  She surprised herself, speaking up. She normally wouldn’t have even said anything.

  “If you want to change the channel, here is the remote control,” the black woman said, holding it up.

  Marcia knew she would never be able to get it so she just looked away and went back to playing with her hair.

  “I thought so, you stupid white bitch,” the black woman said and turned back to the television.

  Marcia sat just looking around the room and was just about to go on back to her cell when she happened to look up at the screen. She stopped, half out of her seat and stared at the screen. She blinked her eyes to be sure of what she was seeing. There he was. The man from the University. He didn’t have on the wig or goatee but the sunglasses were definitely the same and she was positive it was him without the disguise. She wasn’t able to catch his name but he was holding up a large check and shaking hands with another man.

  The check was for one million dollars. Damn, why hadn’t she been paying attention? She continued to stare at the screen, hoping to get his name but it wasn’t mentioned again. She sat back down, stunned. She felt like pinching herself to see if she was really awake, but she was and she knew it.

  This could be her ticket out of this mess if she could just figure a way to turn this in to a ‘get out of jail’ free card. She would have to think about this before she called Detective Logan. The last thing she wanted to do was to throw away her trump card too soon.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Logan put his palms on his eyes and rubbed them before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. Nothing was jumping out at him and Randy hadn’t said much in the past hour either.

  “Anything?” he asked.

  “Not really. Nothing I consider relevant.”

  “Great. We have a big list of names but no real clue as to what to really look for. This is starting to really piss me off,” Logan said, running his hands through his hair.

  “I personally think we...” the phone interrupted his sentence.

  “Logan,” John said into the mouthpiece.

  “Detective Logan. This is Officer Sheller at the detention center. A Marcia Burton is insisting that she speak with you. She has had her call allotment for the day but she says it’s important. She claims to have information about the murder case you are working on,” he said.

  “When did she tell you this?”

  “Just a few minutes ago. She is all worked up. I was going to have her put in isolation but she convinced me to at least check out her story,” he said.

  “Alright. Let me talk to her,” Logan said.

  Marcia came on the line and immediately started jabbering.

  “Hey, slow down. Tell me what you have so I can follow you,” Logan said.

  “I know who the man was that offered me the money. I’ll bet he is the same one who has been involved in this all along,” she said after taking a deep breath.

  “Who do you think it was?”

  “No way. I want to be transferred back to the station and to talk to you in person.”

  “Marcia. That’s not a very good start. Give me the name and I’ll work on getting you sent back over here,” he said.

  “No,” she said, raising her voice, “I come there, we talk and then I’ll give you the information.”

  “How did you suddenly come
by this revelation?” Logan asked.

  “I’m not telling you that either. Get me the hell out of here and then we can have a sit down.”

  “That’s obstruction of justice,” Logan said, knowing it was a lame thing to say.

  “Big deal. I’m in for conspiracy and a bunch of other crap as it is. What are you gonna do, put me in prison? Look, you want this guy and I can help. Just set this up and we can both come out ahead.”

  “I’ll have to have the D.A. present. If you’re looking to cut a deal, she will be the one you have to convince,” Logan told her.

  “Bring the Pope for all I care. The sooner the better. A big black bitch is giving me a hard time and I want the hell out of here,” she said.

  “Fine. I’ll make the arrangements and get you transferred back here. You had better not be wasting my time little lady or I’ll really fix your wagon,” Logan said.

  “It won’t be a waste. I guarantee it,” she said and hung up.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Randy asked when Logan hung up the phone.

  “Let me get the Captain first,” Logan said and headed off to get him.

  When he came back he called the DA and asked if she could come to a quick meeting. Reluctantly the DA agreed to come rather than sending her assistant. It took the DA twenty minutes to get to the meeting and they all gathered around the Captain's desk. Logan closed the door.

  “I received a call from Marcia Burton today. She says she can name the person who gave her the money to help make the Sharon Lewis mess go away,” Logan said.

  “And you believe her?” Alice asked. Alice Anderson had been the DA for the past three years and was considered by most of the force to be very competent at her job. She had little, if any political aspirations and that kept her from having to bend to the will of the powers that be. It was also almost unheard of for a DA. She was very thorough and had a very high conviction rate. Most of the officers liked her because she was direct and to the point. She wasn’t much to look at but she was very bright and knew the value of good police work.

  “I do. She wants to bargain so I thought I would let you have a heads up,” Logan said.

  “I appreciate that. What does she want to bargain for?”

  “I don’t know for sure but I would imagine it would be for a walk on all charges and some sort of reimbursement.”

  “Money.”

  “Yeah. Money.”

  “And you think…?”

  “I think we should cut a deal with her if it will lead us to the right person and she will testify in court. She has to be credible as well,” Logan said.

  Anderson opened the leather briefcase with her initials on it and took out the booking and charge reports. She read through them rapidly and then looked up at Logan.

  “You are at a standstill on this case I take it?” she asked.

  Logan shook his head ‘yes’.

  “And you really need her to solve this thing?”

  “Yes. I hate to say it but…”

  “Then here is what you can offer her, if, and only if, she gives us the person and what she says holds up in court. If she backtracks or doesn’t come across as a credible witness, her butt goes back in the slammer. I’ll charge her with both conspiracy and obstruction,” she said.

  “Sounds right to me,” Logan said, “Captain?”

  “Works for me,” he agreed.

  “When is she coming over here? I want to be at the meeting. I won’t say anything except to offer the terms of the deal. You will be the one to make the call about the relevance of her statement. If you feel confident, I’ll confirm the deal,” she said.

  “She is due at 1:00 p.m.,” Randy said.

  “I’ll be here. Now, is there anything else gentlemen?” she asked, standing.

  “That’s it. See you at one,” the Chief said, opening the door for her. He waited for her to leave before asking, “Do you really intend to offer money?”

  “No way in hell. She is involved in this. I don’t intend to reward her for her part,” Logan said.

  “I thought that would be your position. And if she doesn’t give up the information?”

  “She will. I know exactly what I’m going to tell her if she tries to go back on giving us the information.”

  “I appreciate that, but still, I want to get this case off the books,” the Captain said.

  * * *

  “I can’t find my glasses,” he yelled down the hall.

  “There are on the table beside the couch,” the housekeeper yelled back.

  “Like hell they are. I just looked,” he said.

  The house keeper rolled her eyes and shuffled her way down the hall and picked up his glasses off the other table and handed then to him.

  “Here they are doctor,” she said.

  “Why didn’t you say so,” he said, stuffing them into his jacket pocket.

  “Sorry,” she said and rolled her eyes again as she shuffled back to the kitchen.

  “Would you like a sandwich before you go?” she said, stopping and turning around.

  “No. I’ll grab something at the airport. I want to get checked in. I hate those long lines,” he said.

  “Security,” she replied.

  “Yes, well the crooks seem to figure a way past it easy enough. It’s us honest citizens that get held up,” he said.

  “Yes doctor,” was all she said.

  It was no use arguing with him. He had to always be right. A horn sounded and the doctor opened the front door, grabbed up his two suitcases and rolled them down the drive to the waiting cab. The cab driver opened the trunk but didn’t offer to help put them in. Typical, the doctor thought. He’ll expect a big tip for doing nothing.

  “Delta terminal,” he said once he had his suitcases stowed in the trunk and got into the backseat.

  He rolled the window down immediately. The odor of the driver almost took his breath away. Why did he always get the foreigners? Ones that seemed to have just eaten a goat from the smell of it. The driver jabbered away for a few blocks but the doctor didn’t pay any attention to him. The ride took twenty five minutes and he had to shell out

  $22.50. He reluctantly gave the driver $ 25.00 and told him to keep the change. He didn’t deserve that much he thought to himself.

  He wheeled his luggage to the Delta counter. A line of thirty or forty people was waiting. Damn, no matter what time he got here there always seemed to be a line.

  He got in line and waited, inching along as each person took his or her turn at the check-in kiosk. We watched the endless flow of people come and go. Soon he would be out of this rat hole and off to the Cayman Islands.

  He had checked his confirmation for the Marriott on Grand Cayman and his car. Jeep actually. Soon, he thought. All of this will melt away and he can breathe again.

  * * *

  “All right Marcia. Here we are again. This is Alice Anderson, the DA. She wants to hear what you have to say. If I am satisfied, she will make the deal, depending on what you are asking for.”

  “It’s simple really. I want to walk on any charges and I want my money back,” she said, sitting back and folding her arms.

  “Is that all? You want I should wash your car for you too?” Logan said, taking a chair across from her.

  “No. That should do it,” she said.

  “Well, I can probably swing the first part if the DA agrees. Depending on three things. First of all is that your information checks out to be accurate. Any doubts or back peddling and the deal is off,” He said.

  “Yeah…”

  “Let me finish. Second, your testimony must hold up in court. That means you testify as a credible witness. And third, you are not implicated any further than you are now. If it even looks like you had anything to do with the murders of any of the parties, it’s all off the board. Understand?”

  “Look. I know who it is. I saw him as sure as I am sitting here. I don’t really know what you mean by credible. Do you mean I can be discredited a
s a witness?”

  “Exactly. You are going to have to bare your soul to the DA. Tell her everything, and I mean everything, that might come home to bite you on the butt. She will not want to get up there and have the defendant’s lawyer pull the rug from under her because you forgot to tell her something about yourself,” Logan said.

  “I can do that. I don’t have anything to hide,” she replied.

  “We all have things to hide. You just make sure you get yours out in the open.”

  “Okay. I’ll do that.”

  “If your information proves correct the DA is willing to drop the current charges against you.”

  “But you won’t try to sandbag me with some other trumped up charge will you?” she asked.

  “Not if your involvement is what you have said it was so far. If it’s more, you had better get it out on the table right now,” Logan said.

  He was watching the reaction of Alice who was sitting against the wall behind Marcia. She seemed all right with what he was saying so far.

  “The money. What about it?” Marcia asked.

  “No deal on the money.”

  “Why the hell not. Why should you care?”

  “Because it was used in the commission of a felony. The law will simply not allow us to hand it all back over. We can pay for information up to a certain amount, but this is different. You were part of the crime, so no money,” he said.

  “I know for a fact that some informants get hundreds of thousands,” she said stubbornly.

  “You do huh? And how do you know that? Who spun that story?”

  “One of the girls at the lockup. She said her boyfriend got two hundred thousand for his information and testimony,” she said.

  “Now there is a reliable source. Look, Federal informants can get a considerable amount for the right information but this is a local case. No money.”

  “No deal. I’m not going to go through all of this and get nothing out of it,” she said, standing up.

  “Fine. I’ll have them take you back to detention. Were done here,” he said and stood up and opened the door.

  He glanced at Alice but she had a stone face that he couldn’t read.