Case of the Executed Evangelist Ch. 03

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The order of my stories to read is:

Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series.

Case of the Executed Evangelist series.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 9 – Accumulation of Evidence

6:00am Sunday morning. I sat in MCD rather than my new office, reading media reports and other information about the Oldeeds assassination… yes, the Press was already calling it an “assassination”. I knew the National Press would soon be all over this, but Captain Forsyth, who generally handled press relations in addition to his personnel and records duties, had already executed what he’d rather too dramatically called “Emergency Plan B” to handle them.

Jack Muscone entered the building shortly afterwards, in the company of Tanya Perlman. I had left them together at the bar the night before, and it was no great feat of deduction on my part to see that she had slept with him.

“Nothing new, so far.” I said. “Waiting for the autopsy to see if we can get a bullet from the head wound. By the way, Tanya…” I continued, “you did one hell of a job yesterday.”

“She sure did.” Jack Muscone said in agreement. “You guys really have your shit together around here. No wonder the SBI hates your guts so much. They usually expect to be called in to save the day because they think the locals are dumb fucks.”

“This ain’t TV.” I said. “But we do have the trump card that the University Police run a Crime Lab, and so we’re not dependent on the SBI’s joke of a lab. Besides,…” I said, smiling, “we’ve got Tanya, and the SBI doesn’t.”

As Cindy Ross, Hugh Hewitt and others came in, I gave them a heads-up on what was going to be happening today. We were going to have to interview Mrs. Oldeeds, everyone in the Oldeeds entourage, any security personnel, probably have to talk to our own police officers to see what they’d observed.

“Cindy, would you get with Captain Charles and ask him very nicely for as much manpower as he can spare? Ask for Sergeants and Senior Patrolmen who are good at conducting professional but not-too-harsh interviews.”

“Wilco.” Cindy said as she quickly stalked out of the room to find Captain Charles. The reason I had sent Cindy instead of myself to see Captain Charles was because I wanted her to forge a working relationship with him. If I had my way, she’d be working with him a lot more… at a supervisory level.

At that moment I was called into Chief Griswold’s office, and was asked to bring Jack Muscone with me.

“Don,” Chief Griswold said we entered his office. “I’d like for you to work with Special Agent Muscone here. I’d like the two of you to re-examine the crime scene, see if you can tell where shooters might have perched themselves. There’s not a fence post or splinter around there, much less a tree, but those gunshots came from somewhere.”

“Yes sir.” I said.

Chief Griswold said “Don, Jack Muscone here is a very experienced FBI agent. His record of finding missing persons is one of the best in the history of the FBI. You can learn a lot from this man.” The chief was making it clear to me to not be big-headed and that being a student of an experienced agent could be a most very good thing. The chief was always teaching when he could, a habit I very much wanted to emulate. I agreed, of course.

“Yes sir, I’m glad for the opportunity.”

“I’m not.” Griswold said shortly. “I would have much preferred that Oldeeds had not gotten himself shot dead in my County. I don’t need the national press sniffing around here. The University Trustees and the Council get very agitated when the Press comes around sniffing at our asses like dogs looking for mates.” Jack Muscone burst out laughing at that one.

Back in the MCD room at 7:00am, we tuned in for our morning fix of Bettina.

“This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!” The lovely reporter looked great this morning, full of journalistic fire and energy. She was loving the spectacle, I realized to myself.

“Channel Two News has learned that the FBI has also joined the investigation of the assassination of famous tele-evangelist Jonas Oldeeds. The FBI’s office in the City has released a statement that their participation in the investigation is to lend help to the State and local law enforcement authorities, and is not part of any other investigation of Jonas Oldeeds’s religious empire. However, sources tell Channel Two News that there have been investigations in the past kartal çıtır escort of Reverend Oldeeds, and that his murder might be linked to possible activities within his organization. Channel Two News will continue to bring you updates as we uncover any new details…”

“Wow.” Muscone said. “I see why the Chief hates the Press around here. By the way, wasn’t that the reporter who was beaten and raped during the Arruzio case that you solved?”

“Yes.” I replied, wondering why an FBI agent like Muscone was so full of knowledge about this County’s local crimes. “Wurtzburg is annoying, but she’s a damn sight better reporter than some of the trash, especially those City jerk journalists that don’t know their asses from a hole in the ground.”

Muscone laughed, something I suspect he rarely did in the professional FBI setting. I had the feeling that he was enjoying hanging around with us and being part of this investigation. Cool beans, as I was beginning to like and respect him, as well.


At 8:00am I was shocked to see who was standing before me in the MCD room.

“What can I do?” said a very somber Steven Ikea. I wondered if he’d been drinking the night before, but he seemed okay. “I want to help find the bastard that killed Rev. Oldeeds.”

The room was virtually silent, as everyone present watched and wondered what I was going to do.

“You know what you can do?” I said. “Contact all of your religious friends, Pastor Westboro, other people of influence, and see if you can get any clue at all as to who might have wanted to kill Rev. Oldeeds, and why. And then check in with the SBI and see what they’re finding out.”

“And keep away from the Press.” Chief Griswold said as he came up to us. Ikea glared at him, but walked off as if he had a purpose in life.

“You getting soft on him, Crowbar?” the Chief asked, the mustache twitching.

“Yeah, right.” I said. “But seriously, if he comes up with something from his religious buddies, I won’t have a problem giving him the credit for it.” In truth, I was just getting Ikea out of the way, but it wouldn’t hurt to see what he’d dig up.

“Yeah, you are getting soft.” the Chief said, teasing me hard. I’d have to get him back for that, I thought amusedly, and my look at the chief silently transmitted that very thought.


At 9:00 am, I found myself on the grassy plain of the Fairgrounds with Jack Muscone, two young FBI agents, Myron Milton and several Town Police officers, including Patrolmen Morton and Rudistan.

The roped-off crime scene of the tent and ancillary structures were still in place, but the field was empty of cars… except one RV. It was the RV in which the 7mm-08 cartridge had been found. It was about 40 yards away from the northern edge of the tent.

“So, Morton, how did you and Rudistan come across this RV as ‘the one’?” I asked.

“Sir, as cars were searched and cleared, they would leave.” Morton replied. “After a while it became apparent that this RV was sitting empty. Rudistan stood guard while I went to the judge and got a warrant. We picked the lock, not hard really, and it smelled of powder. We saw the unexpended round and immediately called in the Crime Lab.”

“I see.” I replied. “And I see from this Lab report that no fingerprints were found. Not on the cartridge, but also not anywhere in the RV. This RV was wiped totally clean.”

“What about the license plate?” Muscone asked.

“The numbers were run, and according to this report that plate should be on a Cadillac Escalade in Southport, in the southern part of the State.” I said. “The plate was reported stolen just a week ago.”

“Professional hit job.” Muscone said. “I’m assuming your Crime Lab tore this thing down to the bolts and rivets to see if a rifle is concealed anywhere in it?” Obviously that had not happened.

“No need, Agent Muscone.” a voice behind us called out. Tanya Perlman walked up to us. “We had a dog sniff for explosives and gunpowder residues and another dog sniff for drugs… and he found the prescription morphine unerringly. But we also used sonar equipment to find any cavities. The rifle is not in the RV.”

“Damn, you guys have sonar equipment?” Muscone said, obviously shocked that we’d made such expenditures. He apparently didn’t realize just how beneficial it was to have a University in our town, complete with rich benefactors that like to keep their campus daughters safe and so help the Police Department with expenditures like that.

I didn’t hear the rest of their conversation: I was inside the RV. The windows on the driver’s side, the left, faced the tent. Once inside, I took up a position as I thought a sniper might if shooting through the driver’s door window. I also did the same for the small windows on the left side of the RV.

“Okay, this window just behind the front driver’s seat is the likeliest location. The window opens sideways and not kadıköy yabancı escort more than a few inches. The shooter could rest the barrel on the windowsill and take aim, and likely would not be noticed. Myron!”

“Yes sir?” Milton replied.

“You got the computer with all the video and pics loaded onto it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Let’s go to the tent and look at it.”

Once inside the tent, sitting on chairs in the front row to the right side (the podium’s left), Milton asked me which pictures I wanted to see, as many had been taken from many places.

“Right up here, up front.” I said. “Something that might show the RV in the background– oh, you’ve already got it. You’re reading my mind, Myron.”

“Yes sir, you can see the front part of the RV in this still, taken from a videocamera.”

“Yes, that window is visible from this seat. A sedan was parked next to it, not obstructing the view from those front windows.” I said, then looked directly behind me. “Morton, Myron, what’s significant about this seat?” I had deliberately sat in a particular chair, but neither man understood why.

“What’s significant about this seat, Tanya?” I asked as she and Muscone walked up. Tanya looked in every direction for a moment, then her eyes brightened.

“Ohhhh, it’s in the line of sight from that RV window and where you were standing when you got hit.” Tanya replied. Muscone also looked around, his head swiveling, totally amazed.

“And that is why she’s a Supervisor, gentlemen.” I said. “Good job, Perlman. Damn good.”

“She’s going to be a ‘Special Agent’ soon.” Jack Muscone said. “I’m going to steal her from you.”

“Sorry, Jack.” Tanya said, her blush showing that she was pleased nonetheless. “I’m happy right where I am, working for this guy.” she finished, pointing at me.

“Don, you get all the girls.” Jack said, pretending to sound miffed.

I grinned, then turned back to the photo on Myron’s computer. “Myron, what is that white and blue car whose front is poking out from the other side of the RV?”

“Can’t really tell, sir.” Myron said. “I’ll see if I can find a better image.”

“Morton, do you remember what was parked next to the RV, on the other side of it?” I asked.

“There was nothing, sir.” Morton replied. “Just a space in the grass. I thought it was probably a vehicle that had already pulled out.”

“Myron, did we get any shots from that direction?” I asked, pointing forward, north towards the RV.

“Just a KXTC footage video.” Myron said. “I’ll bring it up.” He did so and we watched the film.

“Freeze it there, Myron.” I said. “This is ten minutes before Oldeeds was shot. And that forward leaning car is…. oh, it’s an ambulance. There’s a Police HERO unit parked right behind it at the rope line.”

“Hmmm, the ambulance could be the one that took Oldeeds to the hospital.” Muscone said.

“Likely it was.” I said. “Oh well, it looks like we have the right RV for the shot on me.” Just then Tanya’s cellphone rang. After taking the call, her eyes gleamed as she announced the information she’d just received.

“That was the Medical Examiner. He did the autopsy at the hospital, and found a slug stuck to the inside of Oldeeds’s skull just above the right ear. It stayed in the head and didn’t go through. It was virtually intact, meaning it struck Oldeeds with low energy.”

“Meaning it was a long, long range shot.” I mused. “Okay Tanya, quit teasing us… we’re on pins and needles about the caliber.”

“7.62 NATO… the military version of the .308”


Muscone was driving his Federal Government vehicle and I was in the passenger seat, headed for the only possible building to the north of the Fairgrounds that had any kind of visual on the targets: Town Fitness Centers. Detective Hugh Hewitt was with us, at Muscone’s request. Muscone had shown himself to be an encyclopedia of Hugh’s military and combat record.

As we left the Fairgrounds, I noticed Tanya continuing to look at the line of sight of the gunfire. Damn! I thought to myself, very impressed: I think she might actually figure it out before she’s done! Meanwhile, there was business to take care of:

“Jack, I gotta let you know something before we get there.” I said. “The co-owner of the fitness center and the one likely to be working here today is my wife Melina… soon to be my ex-wife just as soon as the ink dries on the divorce papers.”

“Think that’ll be a problem?” Muscone asked, not showing any surprise at my announcement of my relationship (or lack of it) with Melina.

“No, you just need to know going in. The divorce has been amicable, no violence… so far…”

Muscone grunted. “Wish I could say the same about my divorce. Anything but amicable. Wife moved 2000 miles away and took my kids.”

“You ever get to see them?” I asked, knowing this was a soft spot for Muscone.?

“Yeah, at Christmas and for a couple of weeks kadıköy genç escort in the summer.”

We pulled into the parking lot. Every shop was closed, as it was Sunday morning. Even the fitness center was closed, with only two cars in front. Easy deduction to make as to who was inside.

The bell rang as we opened the door and went in, and I heard Melina’s voice shout out from the women’s side “We’re closed!”

“It’s me, Melina.” I said, then led Muscone into the women’s workout area. Melina was sitting on the floor near the back of the large open area, dressed in athletic workout clothing and painting some plywood boards from gray to black.

“Hi Don.” she said brightly. “I’m just painting some false walls to construct temporary rooms for yoga classes.”

“Hi Uncle Don.” Todd said, sitting by another board and painting it. He was dressed in a t-shirt and gym shorts. “I’m helping Aunt Melina with arts and crafts today.”

“So I’ve observed.” I replied. “Melina, I’m afraid this is not a social call. You know Detective Hewitt. And this is Special Agent Jack Muscone of the FBI. Jack, this is Melina, and that is my nephew Todd.”

“Hello, Mr. Muscone.” Melina said. “I’d shake your hand but I’ve got paint all over mine.”

“That’s all right.” Jack said. “And please, call me Jack.” Melina nodded. “Hello, Todd.” Muscone said.

“Agent Muscone.” Todd said, nodding. “Hey, Hugh! How are you doing?”

“Good!” Hugh Hewitt said. “Trying to stay out of trouble and failing, of course.”

As Hugh and Todd bantered, Jack Muscone turned to Melina.

“If you don’t mind, we’d like to look around the place, to ascertain if it could possibly be a location where Rev. Oldeeds’s killer fired from.”

“No problem.” Melina said. But all those windows–” she pointed at the windows just under the ceiling “– are sealed and don’t open.”

“Can we look at the roof?” Muscone said. ??

“Sure.” Melina replied, leading the way to the stairs to the roof. Todd stayed behind upon my instruction to do so.

“Was anyone here yesterday, during the time of the shooting?”

“Just me.” Melina said. “I was doing paperwork in my office. The gym was closed; hell, the entire Town was at the event.”

Going up to the door to the roof, Jack Muscone glanced closely at it, then asked me if I saw anything. There was nothing to see. Going out onto the roof, we stood at the doorway, looking to see if there were any footprints or disturbances on the roof. Then we made our way carefully to near the edge facing the Fairgrounds. We could see the tent, a mere speck in the distance.

“800 yards.” Muscone said, using a small laser rangefinder to obtain the distance. “Hugh?”

“Yep.” Hewitt said. “That would be one hell of a shot, even for me with the best Army sniper rifle in the world.” I wondered if Hugh realized he’d just given away some information about himself…

“And done twice within seconds.” I added. I was examining the ledge at the edge of the roof. “I don’t see any marks anywhere along here, or any scuffing. I don’t think anyone’s been on this roof since the building was built.”

Back down at the second level, where Melina’s office was, Muscone satisfied himself that her office window and the other office windows could not be opened. To the right of her office door was a fire escape door.

“Let me get the key and turn off the alarm.” Melina said. Taking a key from her desk drawer, she cut off the alarm and opened the door. The small ledge balcony outside generally faced the Fairgrounds. The ladder that would swivel to the ground was up, and there was no way anyone from the ground outside could reach it. I noted the gray of the building walls, the ledge and the railing.

“An even tougher shot.” Hugh pronounced.

“Yes, and anyone on this balcony could possibly be seen from the road.” I said. “Damned dangerous to try shooting from here.” We went back inside. After saying our goodbyes, we were driving back to Town to get some lunch.

“Well, that is the only possible place a sniper could’ve shot Oldeeds.” Muscone said. “And I just don’t see it. Besides, your wife was there. Oh– why do you think your nephew is hanging around there today?”

I smiled as I answered that one. “Oh, he’s trying to get some pussy.”

?”Think he’ll succeed?” Jack asked, a bit of a smirk on his face, as Hugh laughed in the back seat.

“Yep, he probably will.” I replied. “Just as soon as she gets the work out of him that she wants done.”



Vicki Oldeeds was lying naked on her bed, lying partially across the naked young man as she deeply sucked his huge cock.?

“Mmmm, Mike, what a great cock you have.” she said between sucks, her left hand grasping the base of his nine inch rod and gently jacking it. “You have truly been blessed by the Lord, young man.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Mike groaned. “Your mouth is a true gift from God.”

It was just over 24 hours since witnessing the horrific event of her husband’s murder. She was still in deep shock, and the grieving was building inside and would come, but for now her cunt was soaking wet and steaming hot, and she needed some good hard sex. She was used to being fucked twice, three times a day, and not always by her beloved husband.

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