Barns leaned back in his chair and stared at Sean. “When were the fires?”
“June eighth was the first one and June twenty-fourth the second.”
Barns typed on his computer a moment. “I don’t have anything special on my calendar, so I was probably in the office. The twenty-fourth was on a Saturday, so I was home with my family that day.” He looked over the top of this laptop. “Chief, I didn’t do it.”
Sean nodded. Brunswick was only forty minutes from Barns’ office. It wouldn’t be a problem for him to drive to Brunswick, meet with Clicks, and be back before anyone missed him. He mainly wanted to see Barns’ reaction when he found out Click had named him as the man who’d hired him. Barns certainly didn’t act guilty. He was either a terrific actor or he was genuinely surprised he’d been accused of burning down his buildings.
“Did your inspector guy come out and look at the buildings?”
“Yes.”
“And?” Sean prompted.
“And… the buildings are structurally sound. It’s going to cost me a little more because it was recommended that I replace all the tie rods, and of course I’ll have to rebuild the roofs now instead of repairing them, but we’re going to move forward with the project.” Barns paused. “If I was going to burn the place down for the insurance, why would I be moving forward even though it’s costing me more?”
“Why indeed?” Sean asked, his tone making it clear he didn’t expect an answer. “Another in the list of things that don’t make sense about what the guy said.”
“What else?”
“He called you by name. Wally Barns of Diamond Properties. Allowing for the fact he’s slightly confused on the names, why would you tell him your real name? That makes no sense to me at all. If we caught the guy he could identify you. Which he did.”
Barns gave Sean a sideways grin. “I’d like to think I’m smarter than that.”
“I agree, that’s not a very smart thing to do. Did you know there’s no picture of you anywhere on your website? Not a good one anyway. I’d like to get a picture of you to show this guy and see if he can identify you.”
Barns squirmed in his chair. “And if I object?”
Sean shrugged. “Then nothing. If he can’t pick your picture out of a group of men, though, I think that adds evidence to the idea that someone is trying to set you up.”
“I don’t know if I have one here…” Barns said as he looked around his office.
“I’ll snap one with my phone.”
Barns gave his head a quick nod. “Okay. Where?”
“Right there is fine.”
Sean rose and pulled his phone from his pocket as he rounded the desk so the glare from the window didn’t wash out the photo. He stepped in close enough that he had a bust shot of Wallace in his chair and then pressed the button.
“Thanks,” Sean said when the phone clicked. He tucked the device back into his pocket. “You know anyone who would want to put the screws to you over this project?” he continued as he returned to his seat.
“Not that I know of. Those buildings had been sitting empty for years. Nobody wanted them. Considering what I paid for them, and what Brunswick was willing to do for me to land the deal, I’d say I was the only game in town.”
“I heard there was another developer sniffing around.”
“Really? I hadn’t heard.”
Barns paused, but Sean could tell he had more to say, so he kept quiet.
“I’ll be honest with you, chief. Anytime there’s property available, someone is always ‘sniffing around.’ I’ve looked at hundreds of properties that I decided weren’t right. Until someone shows you the money, it doesn’t mean anything.”
Sean leaned back in his chair. “Yeah. I heard that too.” He paused as he tried to think of anything else he wanted to know. “I think that answers all my questions. Thank you for your time.”
Barns stood and extended his hand. “Sean, isn’t it?”
He took it. “Yeah. Sean McGhee.”
“Sean, I give you my word, I have nothing to do with this and I want to prosecute the man who set the fires.”
“I’d like to hold off on that for a little while, if that’s okay with you.”
“Why?”
“Because the guy who did it is just a homeless guy. He’s not the one you want. You want the guy who hired him. If we pick up this guy, the one we really want will know we’re onto him and may go to ground. Since we don’t know what he wants, he might even try again. But if we can catch him…”
Wallace paused then nodded. “Makes sense, but demolition is going to start in a few days. The construction fence should be going up today or tomorrow, and the equipment should be arriving a day or two after that. I don’t want to give him another chance.”
“You flash enough money around and you can find someone to do anything, especially in Tilley or Abbeyville. Picking up Clicks, that’s the guy who set the fires, accomplishes nothing. Hire private security to keep your property safe, but at the same time, give me some time to find the real culprit.”
Barns watched Sean’s eyes. “Okay, but you’re not going to sweep this under the rug, are you?”
“Mr. Barns, if I can find out who hired Clicks, I’ll help you bury him under your fancy new apartments, metaphorically speaking of course.”
Wallace chuckled. “Good enough.” He paused. “Sorry I came on so hard-ass before.”
Sean nodded, accepting the apology. “No worries. I might not want this guy caught as badly as you do, but I want him caught. I might want to take a look at these new apartments when they’re done.”
Barns grinned. “You catch this guy, I’m certain we can work out some kind of move-in special for you.”
“Thank you for your time.”
“No problem, chief. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
Eighteen
“Have fun,” Maggie said.
Sean grinned and bussed her on the lips. “Yeah. I should be back in a couple of hours. I hope.”
“Marmalade and I’ll be here.”
He stepped out of his apartment and hurried to his car. He was meeting with the Tilley city council, along with what people showed up, to answer any questions he could. It was entirely a public relations show, but he needed the support and cooperation of the townspeople to make this work.
Brunswick had taken over the patrolling of Tilley two days before. The 9-1-1 calls were now being routed to their dispatch office, they would begin the formal patrols tonight, and his officers would make as many sweeps as time allowed.
Until they hired some additional officers, they were too thin to make much progress, but they could show the flag and start cleaning up the downtown area. The drug dealing would just move to another part of town, but they had to start somewhere.
Unlike in the movies, the gang-bangers weren’t likely to push back. It would take a week, maybe two, of having patrol cars steadily cruising by and his officers stopping and questioning any men who were loitering, before they got the idea. Having that much attention was bad for business and their customers weren’t going to take the risk of having a patrol car arrive in the middle of a deal. As their customer base dried up, the drug dealing and thuggery would move on to greener pastures, someplace where they could conduct their business in the shadows and not worry so much about a cruiser arriving.
They’d start with the downtown area and push the dealing out of there because it was easy and open. Once the downtown area was clean, they’d then spread out through the rest of Tilley as they added manpower and could patrol a larger area. Eventually they should be able to drive the worst of the criminal elements completely out of town. Once that happened, the open drug dealing, and the organized violence that came with it, would be eliminated. Then they would only have to deal with the routine crimes—the burglary, battery, recreational drug use, domestic abuse, and the occasional rape—that all towns and cities suffered from.
It was going to m
ake it tough on Abbeyville. Just like when Bill began to clean up Brunswick and the supply moved to their two smaller neighbors, now Tilley was going to become more difficult to operate in, and it was likely the dealers were going to try to move into Abbeyville. Like too many animals competing for not enough food, there were going to be fights, fights that would probably lead to violence. That was going to put additional pressure on Abbeyville’s police force, a police force that was just as overwhelmed and understaffed as Tilley’s was.
Sean was under no illusions he could drive drugs and crime completely out of Tilley. Brunswick, as safe as it was, still had a drug problem, but the dealing in Brunswick was private and underground. That limited the amount of violence and helped free his officers to perform patrols. The frequent, random patrols kept the criminal element wary and on their guard, and made the risk of operating in Brunswick higher than other towns. Because of the higher risk, the number of calls his department received was lower and allowed them to respond more quickly to the calls they did receive. That made the risk of getting caught higher, which in turn made criminals even more cautious of operating in Brunswick. It was a circle that worked to make Brunswick safe, and keep it that way.
In perhaps a year Tilley could be the same way. Once the crime was under control, the town could start to take pride in itself again and begin dragging itself back from the edge, as Brunswick had.
He arrived at Tilley City Hall, a square, red brick building that spoke of better times. The town hall housed the city’s administrative offices, along with the police and fire departments, and a large room that could be configured for various purposes. He found a parking place and followed the signs to the meeting room. Two men in Tilley Fire Department shirts were at a closed door, with a half-dozen people milling around. When one of the men noticed him, they motioned him forward and opened the door, closing it behind him after he entered.
“Chief McGhee?”
A hugely overweight, grey haired man waddled down the aisle. He was dressed in tan pants, a dark blue suit coat that had no chance of buttoning, no tie, and a white shirt with the collar open around his thick neck.
“Hudson Voiles,” the man wheezed as he coasted to a stop and extended his hand.
“Mayor Voiles,” Sean said, taking the paw like hand.
“Call me Hud,” he said, releasing Sean’s hand and directing him deeper into the room. “We don’t stand on formalities around here. Thank you so much for offering to speak to us. I’ve been getting my ear bent for two weeks over this. People are anxious for answers.”
Sean smiled, nodding his head in understanding. “Hopefully I can answer some of them tonight.”
“I have to tell you; your proposal was a bit of a shocker. I’m not sure how we’re going to pay for this long term if we can’t turn the town around, but we have to do something. Rudy was able to do it in Brunswick, and we’re hoping to have some of the same success here.” Hud paused in front of two other men. “Sean, this is Greg Young and Vince Baker. They’re our two council members.”
Sean shook the hand of Greg first. Greg was a middle age man of perhaps fifty-five, maybe sixty, with dark curly hair laced with grey, and a well-trimmed salt-and-pepper beard along his jaw line.
“Greg,” Sean said in greeting.
“Nice to meet you, Sean,” Greg replied as he released his hand. “You think you can dig us out of this hole we’re in?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Sean,” Vince said, taking Sean’s hand.
Like Greg, Vince was older, perhaps sixty, but where Greg was dark, Vince had white hair that had all but disappeared, and was cut so short on the sides as to be almost invisible.
“Nobody ever comes to these things, but we’re going to address the community and answer any questions anybody has. Anything dealing with the policing I’ll direct to you.” Hud said. “Right this way,” he added, directing Sean behind the table with a casual wave of his hand.
Once they were seated, he nodded at the door. The woman at the door opened it and Sean counted eight people as they filed in. He could see the backs of the two men through the door before one turned and walked in, taking his station at the back of the room. Pretty soon it would be his men standing at the door.
The people quickly took a seat in the chairs arrayed before the table. Hud must have been expecting a bigger crowd because only about a third of the chairs were occupied.
Once the woman was seated in the last chair, Hud called the meeting to order. Sean sat quietly as Hud explained the council’s decision and what they hoped to accomplish, the woman scratching away at a pad in what he assumed was shorthand.
It was a plan taken right out of the Rudy Klinger playbook. Borrow heavily to finance the improvements necessary to attract businesses. Brunswick’s downtown was at full occupancy and was heavily biased toward shopping. There were only a few professional offices and restaurants scattered among the stores, and there was plenty of demand for more upscale restaurants. There were ample fast food and low to mid-level restaurant options in the parts of Brunswick that had experienced growth, and there were a few sandwich type shops downtown, but other than Mangia, if you wanted to have a nice meal, you had to drive to Raleigh or Fayetteville.
Tilley wanted to tap into that unmet demand and convert their downtown into an entertainment destination. Rather than compete with Brunswick for shoppers, they were going to try to compliment it by encouraging restaurants, bar and grills, and upscale taverns. Their downtown area was much smaller than Brunswick’s, and since it was only about a five-minute drive from Brunswick’s own downtown, they hoped they could draw the shoppers Brunswick attracted.
It sounded like a good idea to Sean. The first step was to clean up the hard men who congregated in the abandoned downtown. The council was keenly aware of Tilley’s reputation, and they were determined to change it. That was where Sean came in.
Once they had their crime problem under control, then they were going to start offering incentives for businesses to move into, and renovate, the buildings in the downtown area, with the town making improvements as needed and their budget allowed. But it all began with the town cleaning up its reputation so people would feel safe coming to Tilley.
It was going to be a long, hard, expensive, slog. It had taken Rudy fifteen years to accomplish what he had in Brunswick, but Tilley’s city council knew if they didn’t do something, in ten or twenty years, Tilley would be no more and Brunswick would probably swallow them up.
Hud finished outlining his plan. He probably wouldn’t live to see it completed the way he was wheezing, but Sean admired him for trying to start Tilley on the long march back.
“Any questions?” Hud asked, clearly out of breath from having spoken so long.
He fielded a few questions about jobs and tax increases, and why were they helping businesses when the people were the ones who needed help. Sean wanted to roll his eyes at some of the questions but he kept his mouth shut. This wasn’t his fight.
“What prevents us from paying for the police and having them spend all their time patrolling Brunswick?” a man asked.
“I’ll take that,” Sean said as he stood. He was concerned Hud was going to have a heart attack if he didn’t take a minute to catch his breath. “While it’s true the officers will be part of the Brunswick PD, and will report to me, our contract with Tilley specifies that we must provide twelve officers full time. That’s forty hours, per week, per officer, dedicated to patrolling Tilley. The cars will have the Tilley shield on the door and we may even station them here in Tilley. The only real difference is your 9-1-1 calls will come into our dispatcher and Tilley doesn’t directly pay the officers’ salary and benefits.” He paused then decided to come clean now rather than have to deal with it later. “I’ll be totally upfront with you. There will be times when one or more of the officers assigned to Tilley may be called upon to respond in Brunswick. The flip side of that is we can easily bring officers from Brunswick into Tilley if they
need assistance. Now, if your officers are tied up, someone has to wait. Under the jurisdiction of the BPD, we can respond to calls with additional officers when required.”
“Okay, but what prevents you from pulling officers from Tilley in an emergency and leaving us hanging? And how does it save us any money?” the man pressed.
“We have a contract that states we must provide twelve officers, full time. If we don’t do that, we’re in breach of contract. I don’t know what penalties Brunswick will have to pay off the top of my head, but they’re in there. The point is, by having Tilley under the jurisdiction of the Brunswick PD, we can make better use of our resources. If we don’t provide the contractually obligated number of hours, there are penalties. Your second question, about how it saves Tilley money, is easier to understand. Because Brunswick is larger, our benefits are cheaper. We pass the savings on to Tilley. We also absorbed the cost of administration of the officers, maintenance and repair on the vehicles, training, dispatching, all the hidden costs that go into operating a police force. Does that answer your questions?”
Sean could tell the man wasn’t totally convinced, but he nodded.
“When does this start?” an older woman asked.
“It’s happening now. Two days ago, after the vote, we took over patrols so you wouldn’t be left without coverage. We’re patrolling Tilley as best we can with the officers we have. As we add more officers we’ll do a better job and expand our patrols, but tonight we’re putting the word on the street. When our officers aren’t busy running calls, we’re going to be performing regular sweeps in the downtown area to run off any loiters we find.”
That caused a murmur to pass through the crowd.
“How often will you be doing the sweeps?” another man asked.
Flashover Page 16
