A Loose Thread
By Dialecticdreamer/Sarah Williams
Part 1 of 1, complete
Word count (story only): 1490
[Saturday, 5 August, 2017, 10:00 a.m.]
:: Captain Marquez is discussing the recent events involving LaQuinta Dixon when one of the chaplains makes a comment which turns out to relate to the investigation of the Cort twins’ attempted kidnapping. Part of the Unfair Trades arc in Mercedes, within the Polychrome Heroics universe. ::
Captain Marquez rubbed her thumb over her right eyebrow as she stared at the lieutenant in charge of their current outreach projects, or rather, in charge of the teams each coordinating a different outreach project as part of their case load. “I know it’s an unusual step, but she’s one of the key witnesses, one of the
only witnesses in the Cort twins’ abduction. Ms. Park can explain how they all got to the zoo, who approached her, and that she lost consciousness with the kids in the stroller next to her. But LaQuinta Dixon is the one who can explain where the children were found, alone, and unconscious.”
“That makes her important to the case we’ve been building against one kidnapper, though it was obvious that there were others involved.” She sighed. “She’s also had her housing completely vandalized, losing everything but the clothes on her back and a few dollars in her wallet. That puts her at risk of more violence, and in unsafe conditions which would make it easy for one of the kidnappers still at liberty to try to silence her.”
“I’m just saying, ma’am, that we can’t afford to do more than Officer Rybokov already has when providing gift cards for her from the victims’ relief fund.” Lieutenant Hull twitched his broad shoulders.
Beside him, Dominique Betcher tugged at the wisps of cinnamon brown hair that escaped from the high bun to tickle the nape of her neck. “There are plenty more deserving people, too,” the chaplain grumbled under her breath.
Arminda Marquez held up a single finger. “Wait. What do you mean by that, Chaplain Betcher?”
The younger woman’s full, berry-red lips twisted wryly. “The FBI agents were talking to the suspect, Harry Duggan, and everybody heard the agent coaxing him to explain how Robert Cort arranged the fake kidnapping.”
“I want him off the case,” the Captain snapped at the Lieutenant. “Please go make the calls needed, right now. I’ll call back to speak directly to the authority who can pull him off the case.” She patted the air. “Dominique, stay for a minute. Can you tell me the rest of the things that you overheard?”
Lieutenant Hull murmured an excuse, slipping out as the two women angled their chairs to face each other. “I’m very concerned that the male agent is
not investigating,” Arminda began, trying to soften her ‘The Captain Is Talking’ presentation style. She rubbed at her forehead again. “It’s been a very long day already, hasn’t it?”
Dominique huffed a laugh. “It’s only been a week since shift change at seven,” she joked breezily. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knee. “He didn’t know that anyone was monitoring the interrogation room. He had authority to record the session, so everything that he said could be spun as trying to crack Duggan, but Agent Scarcella really seems to think that Robert Cort left his wife out of his plan, hired LaQuinta to ‘accidentally’ find the kids as soon as the SUV was out of sight.”
The young woman’s body tensed beneath her firmly starched uniform. “Ma’am… He’s got his partner looking for security cameras that might show the exit of the zoo’s parking lot, so they can prove that the kids were unattended for a couple of minutes, not half an hour or whatever. Why would a good agent waste the time and resources to do that if he wasn’t sure?”
“Did you see the Canadian officer that day?” the Captain asked.
Dominique snickered. “I think everybody near the motor pool could hear her comments about Scarcella’s medical condition.” She held her breath, but more snickers escaped as she dropped her voice to the barest whisper. “Something was said about cranial-rectal inversion and hats not being part of the agents’ official dress code.”
Arminda did not laugh aloud, but her body shook silently for several seconds.
Someone rapped on the door.
“Yes?” Captain Marquez answered, returning to the brisk commanding tone that helped her day run more smoothly. Usually.
“Agent Tamsen needs to speak with you, urgently, ma’am.”
“Send him in,” she agreed, patting the air in a ‘wait’ gesture for the chaplain.
Daniel Tamsen stepped into the office carrying a thick leather folio under one arm, and a fancy picnic hamper with thick slats of walnut-colored wood, though the hinged wooden lid gleamed in a pale birch color. “Ma’am,” he began, then assessed the other officer’s uniform. “Chaplain. I’ve got news.” A deliberate smile sidled into place. “Anyone want some fresh brioche and homemade jam?”
“You’re stalling,” Arminda declared, the warning clear.
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, setting the basket down on the floor between his feet and laying the folio atop it. Then he made a show of retrieving his phone and pulling up the phone. “Ambassador Loudmouth asked me to make sure that I got pictures.”
He waited a beat, wiggling the phone with a questioning look.
Captain Marquez glanced away, then nodded. “What is your news, Agent Tamsen?”
“One of the kidnappers turned herself in at the embassy gates. She’s afraid that there are dirty cops protecting her boss.”
Dominique sat up as the phone camera clicked several times, recording the Captain’s shock. “See! There
aren’t any dirty cops in Mercedes, so the whole thing is probably a fake!”
“Do you want to tell her, or should I?” Daniel asked the police captain sympathetically.
“We could have any number of cops who decided, just today, that there was some reason to do something against our rules, or against the printed, official laws. We cannot be so blind that we’re certain that everything is running smoothly inside the department,” Arminda declared.
“But wouldn’t Scarcella’s partner say something if the guy was dragging us off target? He’s older than Scarcella, and probably has years more experience.”
“That doesn’t bode well,” Agent Tamsen admitted quietly. “The older agent could have been away due to family emergency, or a personal medical crisis.” He waited a beat. “Or he could be on his only chance to keep his career after a colossal screwup. I don’t know which it is, and we’re nominally from the same regional office.”
“I don’t have to accept your comments at face value,” Dominique sniffed.
“Then investigate,” Arminda suggested. “Not like a detective, but like a chaplain trying to work out what two friends have omitted when talking about the argument that they’re having with each other. You can’t give good counsel without knowing the whole picture, after all.”
The younger woman relaxed slightly. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll do that.” She glanced between Agent Tamsen and her boss. “I’ll get on that right now. Excuse me.”
“Before you go,” Daniel offered lightly, “I showed the young woman individual pictures of Robert Cort, Diane Cort, and Maureen. Park. She knew none of them. This was
not a fake kidnapping attempt. Those children are very lucky to be alive right now. Something to keep in mind.”
He waited for the chaplain’s footsteps to fade, beyond the closed door, then offered an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, Captain. I wasn’t trying to step on toes. I’m just not very patient with people who make a decision and then take a weed whackers to the facts to force them to fit their views.”
“Any other news?” Arminda asked dryly.
Agent Tamsen nodded, his sober expression turning stony. “She talked about her boss and a literal shopping list. They were told to look for twins under the age of four, preferably younger than three, but big enough that they were probably walking. Asian features, gender irrelevant, but their bonus for twins would be triple, not double.”
He breathed out carefully. “They were kid-shopping, not targeting the children of one of the wealthiest people in the county, and probably the whole of northern California.”
“Interesting that twins were specified,” Arminda answered, as if chewing on her words. “Isn’t it more likely that twins would be split up to make more money on the adoption process?”
“Usually.” Daniel nodded once. “And the age range is… so specific that it worries me for reasons you’re probably familiar with.” He bent to retrieve the folio, putting it directly into her hands. “Our intake paperwork, a DVD with the recorded interview, which was then burned with a detailed woodcut image to make altering the official copy impossible. If it won’t read on your machine, let me know right away. Lending you a secure laptop will only take a couple of minutes to set up. Oh, and the printed transcript of the whole interview, with timestamps.”
“This will help, thank you.” Her expression softened. “Why bring bread and jam?”
“It’s not just for you,” the black-haired man admitted. “Your men have been running full tilt, and this would be novel enough to encourage some of them to take a break. He leaned back on his heels. “How else can I help, Captain?”
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