NOTHING TO LOSE - Angie Bartoni Case File # 5 (ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILES)

by Marshall Huffman

  “Sir?” Dan said.

  “Yes Detective Roberts?”

  “I’m not trying to jump ahead, but if we do get something useful from one of our two suspects, what do we do with the information? Turn it over to you or pursue it?”

  He just stood there for a minute.

  “I would like to be kept in the loop. If you need more resources then we will be happy to assist. Or you can ask the FBI to assist if we can’t help. Does that answer your question?” Potts asked.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Okay,” he said turning to the whiteboard.

  If we were a television show or movie they would just start pointing at stuff on the smart board and it would instantly be there. Their computers would never crash and instantly find what they were looking for. How do they do that? Oh, yeah, it’s make believe.

  He wrote Belk’s name at the top of the board. He wrote Pete Anderson's name and circled it and drew a line back to Belk.

  “This is his right hand man and we are ninety percent sure he was involved. Probably the guy getting the stuff and passing it along.”

  He drew another circle with a question mark in it and a line linking to Anderson.

  “Anderson is too smart to make the drops or purchases himself. He would use cut out men. How many? Probably one, maybe two to cut down on suspicion of the purchases,” he said drawing another circle with a question mark in it as well.

  “This is what we are working on. Unlike the FBI and the local police we have not been very effective. We are currently searching for people that either had access to c4, Semtex or something similar. It took more than just a homemade bomb to blow a hole that big in the wall. He got it someplace and we are digging into every crevice we can to come up with a name,” he said.

  This had to be a clone. This was not the same Potts I had come to love and adore earlier.

  “If anyone stumbles...I mean, comes across any information about C4 or a variant, please let us know immediately. We will handle that aspect of the investigation.”

  “Agent Potts,” Brad said.

  “Yes Agent Pendergrass.”

  “I just received a text. They are bringing in the driver of the SafetySure truck. They will be here in ten minutes or so.”

  “Thank you for that update. Would you mind if we watched the interrogation?” he asked.

  “Not at all,” Brad replied.

  **

  Several of us went from one sardine can to another. This time it was the observation room. Martinez was sitting at the standard issue steel desk with the standard issue steel chair and the mandatory gray walls. Lots of thought went into that I’m sure.

  Pendergrass was looking at his file and looking up at Martinez every once in a while. He wasn’t saying anything. Finally he closed the file and set it aside.

  “You want to just cut to the chase or do we have to drag this out?” Pendergrass said.

  “I don’t know nothing.”

  “I don’t know nothing? That means you do know something. Did you take English in school?”

  “Man, who cares about that crap?’

  “Apparently you don’t. So we do it the hard way. That’s fine with me. I have all the time I need. You on the other hand are about to lose your job. INS is already headed to your house to interview the people that are your ‘family’. All fifteen of them. I’m thinking you won’t be in America long unless it is in prison.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Of course you can. Looking at the size of you, I think you are going to make someone a very nice man-girl. Maybe he will buy you a teddy to wear. You see Martinez, I have the power,” he said holding out his hand, “To put you in prison. Not just prison but the one I select and with the cell mate of my choosing. These are going to be federal and Homeland Security charges. Not the customary slap on the wrist.”

  “Man, this is wrong. I just forgot to take the keys out of the truck. No big deal.”

  “Okay Martinez, you can go with that if that is all it was,” Pendergrass said and stood up.

  “What? You are going to let me go?”

  “Sure. You said you didn’t mean to do it, right? I know you wouldn’t lie to a federal officer. That could land you with another charge at some point. They keep racking up and you could be looking at ten to fifteen years.”

  “For a set of keys?”

  “No you moron, for sitting there and lying through your yellow teeth. Do you ever brush those things?”

  “Hey, no need to get nasty?”

  “Go on, get out of here. But keep this in mind. When you walk through that door, Homeland is going to be on you like barbeque sauce on ribs. They will smother you. You are going to go away for a lot longer than you ever imagined. You need to take how much you got for forgetting the keys and divide it by the number of years you are going to spend in prison and see if it is worth it.”

  “Man. Look...”

  “No idiot, you look. We are going to squeeze you until you pop like an over ripe tomato.”

  “Man...”

  “Stop with the man. I’m not your man, dude, amigo or anything else. I’m Agent Pendergrass.”

  “Agent Pendergrass, I am trying to make a living for my entire family. Like you said, we are fifteen people trying to get along. Some of the others work but they make hardly nothing. A man offered me ten thousand American dollars to ‘forget’ the keys. He didn’t say why and I never asked. Ten thousand may not sound like a lot to you but it is a very large amount to us. I left the keys and it was gone the next day.”

  “Who was this man?”

  “I don’t know his name. He just stopped me when I was coming out of work. He offered me the money and I thought about it and then said yes. He had it in his hand.”

  “And that was it?”

  “Honest.”

  “That is unfortunate for you Mr. Martinez. Without a name, this means nothing. Even a description wouldn’t help all that much. You could tell us anything and we would have no way of knowing if you were lying or not.”

  Pendergrass headed for the door.

  “What happens now?”

  “You will be Mirandized, allowed to call your attorney, booked and wait to see if you can make bail.”

  “I don’t have an attorney?”

  “Don’t worry. It’s a service we provide for both legal and illegals in this country.”

  “I may have something else you can use.”

  Pendergrass stopped and looked at him.

  “What?”

  “I want a deal.”

  “A deal? Mr. Martinez you have been watching too many television movies. First, I don’t do deals. That comes from your attorney talking to the prosecutor. Second, if you think you are going to walk away from all of this you are dead wrong. Here is how it is going to work. You tell me what this thing is. I’ll evaluate it. If I feel it is worthwhile I will make a recommendation to the prosecutor and we will see what happens.”

  “No way. That totally sucks.”

  “Then keep it to yourself and see what good it does you. Unless I tell the prosecutor the information was worth it, it will go no place. Only the investigators know what a tip or information is worth.”

  “But if it helps?”

  “I’ll go to bat for you.”

  “Write this down,” he said.

  Pendergrass took out his pen and a pad of paper.

  “NJ2213 – Black GMC Envoy. Blacked out windows.”

  “That is good Mr. Martinez. I think we can do business.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  When he came out of the interrogation...oops, my bad...interview room I told him we were already running it. We would know in a few minutes who the SUV was registered to and the address. Yes I said who, not whom. Of course the caveat in that was the presumption that it was not a stolen vehicle. If it was, we would still process it but the chances of finding anything useful dropped dramatically.

  “People,” Potts suddenly came out and shouted, “
Two bombs just went off. One at the Second National Bank in Broadripple and one at the Jefferson Library at 10th and Tillison Avenue.”

  It had only been a few days and it had started already. Dan and I headed to the library and let the Feds and Homeland handle the bank.

  “That bastard,” I muttered.

  “He is thumbing his nose at us.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Dan was driving and I was listening to the chatter on the police radio. It sounded like the library was the worse of the two from the number of ambulances and first responders being called to that area. It was Saturday and that meant the place was probably pretty well packed.

  We could see the smoke and hear sirens long before we got there. Dan pulled us as close as he could get and we rushed to the scene of destruction and chaos. Several bodies were already covered and others were being treated. Some people were screaming and crying. Others looked stunned and dazed. One man was on his hands and knees looking for something. I went over to see if I could help.

  “Sir, what are you looking for?”

  “My book. I was returning it. It was due today. I don’t want to get a fine.”

  “Sir. It’s okay. No one is going to care. Please. You need someone to look at you. You have several cuts that need medical attention.”

  “But my book. I must return it.”

  “I’ll tell you what. You come with me to get fixed up and while you are being treated I’ll look for it and return it. I just need the name of the book.”

  “The End. It was the first of a trilogy I was reading.”

  “Okay. I’ll find it. You go with my partner and get medical attention.”

  Dan helped him up and walked him to one of the EMT’s. He slowly walked back shaking his head.

  “What?”

  “I’ve counted ten bodies so far and that is just out here. How many do you think are inside?”

  “It can’t be good. I see Albertson from the bomb squad, let's go see what he has to say.”

  “Hey big Al.”

  “Bartoni. Little late aren’t you. You guys should have gotten this guy before he started in again.”

  “Don’t bust my chops. I didn’t let him out. If you recall I put him away.”

  “Yeah, I know. Damn. I hate cowards like him. They don’t care about anything or anyone. This is just about hurting and killing as many people as possible. What was he going to accomplish by bombing a library?”

  “Maybe his card had expired and they wouldn’t let him check a book out,” I replied.

  “Geez Bartoni, you’re about as sick as he is. You have a warped sense of humor.”

  “That’s the only thing keeping me sane.”

  “He used a pressure cooker bomb. Nothing elaborate. Easy to build and transport. Put it in a backpack and no one knows. Probably left it in the lobby from the initial look. Billy and Merlyn are taking readings and assessing the structural damage. It could have been a lot worse.”

  “Don’t tell that to the ten bodies lying on the ground,” Dan said.

  He was right. They might disagree with that statement.

  “Do you know what the body count is inside?” I asked more for something to say than wanting to know.

  “Not really. A few are trapped and they are trying to free them but I don’t know their status one way or the other,” Albertson replied.

  “Is the fire Chief inside?”

  “His second in command is. The Bank went first. He is over there at the moment.”

  “Second in command would be Tolbert?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Okay. Mind if I go talk to him.”

  “Be my guest. You know the risk.”

  “Yeah, I know. You want to stay out here?” I asked, turning to Dan.

  “What? And have you call me a wuss? If you go, I go.”

  “Moron,” I said.

  “Bartoni, is it ever possible to win with you?”

  “I sure hope not.”

  **

  Inside was even worse, as we expected. Plaster, books, and body parts were scattered all over the place. I looked over at one poor man who looked like his face had been run through a shredder. I figured he must have been facing the glass wall when the bomb exploded. He was alive but I couldn’t imagine the pain he must be going through. A medic was working on him. I saw a M on what was left of his forehead. Morphine. I would want that as well.

  I saw shoes, purses, and an arm with a watch attached to it. It was sickening. To think that bastard enjoyed doing this to other people, not for money, not even for revenge. He just loved to hurt people, innocent women, men, and children.

  Doctors were rushing in from nearby hospitals and walk-in facilities. I watched as they calmly evaluated each person and even though they were from different places, they were a unified team. It was truly inspiring to watch.

  One doctor was working on a little girl who was still holding onto her teddy bear. She was maybe seven. She was obviously on the verge of shock. Her foot was mangled and the doctor was gently singing to her as he worked to make her as comfortable as possible.

  “Well sweetheart,” I heard him tell her, “You are a beautiful young lady and very brave. This old doctor is going to personally make sure you are taken care of. Is that alright with you?”

  She looked at him a second then shook her head ‘yes’.

  Damn you Bartoni, don’t start blubbering. I wondered if I could be that brave.

  “Whoa, the dust is pretty heavy,” I said wiping my eyes.

  Fortunately for Dan, he was smart enough to not say anything or else the EMT would have to treat another victim.

  We talked to several people but honestly it was a waste of time. What we did get were the surveillance disks from the exterior and interior cameras. They were in a different part of the library and managed to survive. It wasn’t much but it was something.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AP- TWO BOMBS RIP THROUGH THE CITY

  Two bombs exploded earlier this afternoon. One was at the Second National Bank in Broadripple and the other at the Jefferson Public Library at 10th and Tillilson. The bombs exploded within minutes of each other.

  The Jefferson Public Library sustained the largest number of casualties and injuries. The death toll is currently twelve with another thirty-nine injured. At least five of the injured are in critical condition.

  The Second National Bank sustained structural damage and at present five are reported dead and seventeen injured. Most of the injured were employees.

  Richard Lake, the branch manager said that it could have been much worse. They had just finished a big influx of people and he was starting to send employees home.

  “Thirty minutes earlier and we would have had at least twice as many involved. This is just crazy. I happened to be in the vault at the time of the blast but the shock was enough to knock me to the floor.”

  Fire Marshall and Building inspectors have been looking over both sites to determine if they will need to be torn down. It has been estimated that well over four thousand books were destroyed in the Jefferson Library blast.

  Mayor Lansdale has expressed outrage at the unprovoked attack on innocent men, women, and children. He also went on to say that he has asked for assistance from the FBI and Homeland Security in bringing the perpetrator to justice as swiftly as possible.

  I almost threw up at the last paragraph. He hadn’t asked for a damn thing but typical of most politicians, he wanted to present himself in the most positive light no matter what the tragedy.

  “What have we got on the license plate number?” I asked Dan.

  “Hold on a second,” he said taking his cell phone out.

  I snatched it out of his hand.

  “Don’t even think about driving and texting on the phone.”

  “I wasn’t going to text. I was going to phone them.”

  “And how do you put the number in?”

  “Same as everyone else. I put it in.”

 
“Same as texting.”

  “Is not.”

  “Yes Dan it is. If you have to take your eyes off the road for just a second it is too much.”

  “Fine, you call them,” he said pouting.

  I called DMV and they gave me the information. I wrote it down and read it back.

  “The Envoy belongs to a guy named Justin Hall. He lives at 1129 Westwood Street. Let’s go pay this guy a visit.”

  “Has it been reported stolen.”

  “That’s the beauty of it. No report of a stolen vehicle.”

  “Hot damn. Maybe we got lucky for a change,” Dan said, pumped again.

  Men are like Yo-Yos. They are down one minute and up the next. It just takes the slightest tug to send them one way or the other.

  “We calling in backup?”

  “I think that would be prudent in this case,” I said.

  “Who?’

  “How about Homeland? I would imagine the FBI is pretty involved with the bank and all.”

  “Glad you have the phone. I sure don’t want to call them.”

  “Hey, they are mellowing out. I’ll call Potts.”

  It took me a while to get through to him but after I told him the story, he said they would roll immediately. He asked if we wouldn’t mind waiting until they got there.

  I'll have to keep that in mind. Choke the snot out of them and then they are nice. Of course it would help if I was a lot bigger than them I suppose.

  We stopped at the end of the block and could see the house. The black Envoy was in the drive. Five minutes later, we saw the Homeland Security SUV turn the corner. I flashed my lights and they pulled up beside of us.

  “That the one?” Potts asked.

  “That’s the one.”

  “Where do you want us?”

  “The back if it is okay with you.”

  “No problem,” he replied.

  **

  Dan knocked on the front door. A few seconds later we could hear a lock being turned. A face appeared in the crack of the door.

  “Yeah?”

  “Mr. Hall?”

  “Who wants to know?”