Chapter 21: Your Friendly Neighborhood Police

“Are you sure about this?” Jake asked, taking a left past the courthouse on 64th Street. “The stakeout was still in place last night.”

Phineas nodded as he directed Jake to park his sedan on the side street a block down from police headquarters. Despite spotting Officer Updike in a patrol car near Monroe Park, which went against Phinn's advice to Chief Norberg, while on the dogwalk with Allison and Melody last night, the brainy sleuth planned several steps ahead. He'd already explained his rationale to Jake about not assuming anything, but his partner's worrywart ways held firm.

“Hold on,” the lead investigator said before Jake could open the door. Quickly hitting send on a text message, Phinn informed Jake that they should wait precisely three minutes. Sighing, the stocky detective asked, “What nonsense are you up to now?”

“It’s never nonsense, my friend. It’s necessary planning.”

“That’s what worries me.”

Finally allowed to exit the sedan, Jake followed Phinn down the sidewalk. Walking past a surface lot with oversized police vehicles, including the ridiculously unneeded armored SWAT carrier, they next traveled alongside the three-story police parking garage. Jake held his tongue over his best friend’s plan to enter headquarters through the parking garage, not the front door. Yet again, Jake understood the rationale but didn’t like it.

“Hey, I thought we were—”

“Shhh, keep moving,” Phinn hissed, leading Jake across the street from the gated entrance. “We need to wait a moment.”

Milling around a moderately sized tree trunk, Phinn watched until the guard at the gate exited his booth. Holding up a finger, Phinn flicked it forward as the guard rushed down the sidewalk that they’d just left.

“What did you do?” Jake challenged, easily putting two and two together.

“Nothing too bad,” Phinn said, walking straight over to the gate before ducking under the bar to enter the garage.

Following this, Jake immediately started scanning the garage for any police personnel. The ones he saw were too busy getting into their vehicles or unloading them to notice the two teens. On the other hand, Phinn made a beeline for the door located in the center of the wall to their right. Barely looking over his shoulder as he speed-walked, Phinn told Jake to be polite to whomever they encountered.

“Me? What about you? You could try being nicer around here for once.”

“It would be disingenuous and suspicious. You’re more believable.”

Approaching the ramp’s slight incline, Phinn slowed his gait. This would be the tricky part of his plan. Everything depended on somebody exiting through the locked door before either the guard returned or someone monitoring the security cameras noticed the two teens loitering in a restricted area.

“Fake a call,” Phinn whispered, pulling his phone out to play around with it.

One minute passed. Then two passed, and Jake mouthed words on his fake phone call while watching the people deeper inside the garage with trepidation. Finally, at the four-minute and twenty-second mark, the metal door flew open. Jumping forward, Phinn exclaimed as if the door nearly hit him.

“Whoa! Watch it!”

“Oh, sorry…Wait, what…You’re not allowed to be in here,” Officer Randy Flanner responded, lowering his phone and covering the mouthpiece.

“Well, good morning to you, too, Flanner,” Phinn replied sarcastically while Jake reached past him to grab the door before it shut.

Pleased with who appeared, the brainy detective rightfully assumed that the ever-flirtatious police officer had a woman on the line. Already distracted, Flanner would be easy to get past.

“Scram or I’ll throw you in a holding cell,” Flanner warned. Glancing around, he checked for the gate guard. “Where the hell is Erwin?”

“He got called away. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have to meet the chief,” Phinn said, attempting to walk past Flanner, who immediately shot out an arm to block him.

“The chief’s not here. It’s Saturday. What are you punks up to?”

“Punks? We prefer brats, Randy.”

“We’re here to meet Chief Norberg about the Monster Manfredi manhunt,” Jake revealed, hoping to defuse the situation before Phinn inflamed it.

“We’re kind of a big deal in the manhunt. Angelo is out to get revenge on us,” Phinn declared, causing Jake’s eyes to widen after his best friend had insisted on the opposite for days.

“I don’t care. Go through the front door. You’re not authorized to use this door,” the police officer stated.

“We would’ve, but the media is already out front, and the chief doesn’t want our presence reported on. So, we’ll be going inside,” Phinn responded, ducking under Flanner’s arm.

“You better not be bullshitting me,” Flanner growled before his expression softened. “Who’s out front?”

“I believe I spotted Hollie Kittler. She’s in one of her little outfits,” Phinn called back, already at the next door. “Hey, unlock this one.”

“We’re not bullshitting you. The chief is already worried enough that our homes are being monitored,” Jake added.

“Yeah, I heard about that. Fine,” Flanner said, sighing while he followed Phinn toward the interior door and unlocked it.

“Thanks,” Jake responded for both of them. Then, hurrying after his oldest friend, he hissed, “Dammit, that was too close.”

“Was it? I thought it went better than expected,” Phinn admitted before reminding Jake to nod and smile while they walked down the hallway to an elevator. Several people passed them with curious expressions.

“The 4th Floor? The chief’s office is on the 5th,” Jake noted after Phinn pushed the button. The handsome athlete forced a smile at a middle-aged clerk who got on the elevator shortly before the door closed. She pressed the 3rd Floor button.

“We’re stopping at Homicide first.”

Jake maintained his smile at the attractive woman while forcing himself not to gulp. It could be considered a toss-up between Homicide and Robbery for which group of detectives hated them the most. Fidgeting, he let out a loud sigh when the clerk got off the elevator. Fortunately, nobody else got on as Saturdays were slower around police headquarters.

When the door finally opened on the 4th Floor, Jake’s tension rose. Several people walked down the long hallway. Phinn didn’t appear to care about being recognized as he strode out of the elevator and down the same hallway.

With darting eyes, Jake glanced over at the doors to Vice and Bunco as they passed them. Both rooms could be filled with detectives who knew the teens. When the door opened to Robbery and Detective Stillwill exited, Jake nearly panicked. However, Stillwill had his nose buried in a file, so he never noticed two of his biggest pests.

Nearly running, Jake followed Phinn through the door marked Homicide and skidded to a halt. Watching as Phinn scanned the rows of cubicles, Jake had the same thought as his partner when he noticed only two detectives in their cubicles, both of whom were on the phone.

“Slow day,” Phinn noted.

While Phinn peered around the room to double-check the number of occupants, Jake turned to study the long, white dry-erase board that took up a significant portion of the wall to their right. Columns with names and initials were listed primarily in red and black, with an occasional name changed to green. The latter represented a cleared murder investigation. The entries listed the year’s homicide number and the victim’s known name, along with the initials of the detectives working each case. At the bottom of the board lay a key with detective names written in blue, which explained the initials.

“Hmm, I don’t see a lot of green on that board. People won’t be happy unless this is turned around,” Phinn remarked, joining Jake to study the number of open murder investigations. Noting one name, the smartass sleuth scoffed at the initials for Gohl and Vench beside the green name of Oswald Cozart. “We should be given credit for that case.”

“We really should—Phinn, look! Somebody killed Ferwick!” Jake exclaimed, gesturing to the name Winston Ferwick.

“Aw, damn,” the bespectacled teen muttered. His attention shifted from two other murder cases from earlier this year that the teens had solved to the name of a career criminal they knew well. Checking the date, Phinn said, “It happened while we were down in Lumlow.”

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Both teens turned to discover that Detective Yelton had finished his phone call. One of the youngest and newest detectives assigned to the division, they didn’t have much history with him. That fact also meant Yelton couldn’t help them, so Phinn decided to make a scene, as it would be his best course of action to draw out someone else.

“We stopped in to see about the Terry Tully cold case, if you must know. However, we have a bone to pick with all of you. Considering that we solved three of those murders, we should have our names on that board. Especially since it looks like we might need to solve a fourth,” Phinn declared. Then, checking the initials for the Ferwick murder, he piled on. “We require an update on Winston Ferwick’s death.”

“Require? Can you believe this kid?” Yelton said to the other detective present, who shrugged while still on his call.

“Yes, we do require an update,” Phinn repeated. “Your name is listed as on the case.”

“Who have you interviewed, and who’s a suspect?” Jake asked.

“That’s none of your business! Get out, or I’m calling somebody!”

“Somebody? Ooh, that sounds ominous,” Phinn mocked. “Where’s the file?”

“What is wrong with you, kid? You don’t get to barge in here and demand to see a file!” Yelton responded, marching over to the pair of snoops.

“I need to see the file because I doubt you know who to investigate,” Phinn proclaimed.

“Know who to…Listen up, Veronica Mars. I earned this promotion and rank by doing damn good police work. I’m not going to put up with your–”

“What is all the commotion…Oh, hell, no. Not you two,” an older man with white hair groaned after leaving his office.

“Ah, Captain Tagge, finally a man who might be able to help us. First, we stopped by this lovely Saturday morning to see what you have on the Terry Tully murder. However, we just learned that Winston Ferwick was killed while we were out of town, and based on Det. Yelton’s reaction, he doesn’t have a clue about what he’s doing.”

“Alright, that’s it, you little shit,” Yelton warned, moving in close to Phineas. “You don’t get to tell me how to do my job, got that?”

“Considering that Ferwick was well-liked, you don’t have a large pool of suspects,” Phinn began, until he noticed Yelton’s scowl. “Oh, no. Please tell me that you haven’t been wasting time by going through all of Winston’s known associates. Do you know anything about your victim?”

“The man was a low-life crook!”

“No, that attitude and assumption are what’s low,” Jake countered. “Winston had to be one of the most popular thieves around this region. Almost nobody held a grudge or spoke a bad word about him. How is his case still open? You must have his friends willing to snitch.”

"And it's insulting to speak ill of the dead, Yelton. You should be ashamed of yourself," Phinn admonished. "Ferwick has often been kind enough to lend us a hand. Well, usually he owes us a favor or two, which we now won't get to call in, but you should never blame the victim."

“Did you say, Terry Tully?” Captain Tagge inquired.

“Shows what you know, there is no Tully on the board,” Yelton pointed out.

“That’s because he was killed nearly a quarter of a century ago,” Tagge recalled.

“Mr. Tully was a private investigator who was stabbed in the back,” Jake explained, shaking his head at the young detective.

“Maybe you should spend more time learning a little about your city’s history, and less on shaming victims,” Phinn told Yelton. “And for the record, the only job that Ferwick has recently been part of that went sour was the Allstone one.”

“The Allstone job? Ferwick was involved?” Captain Tagge questioned, then turned to his detective. “What did Robbery say about that?”

“Nobody said anything. These brats are living in a fantasy world.”

“Do you people seriously not know what happens in your own city?” Phinn challenged. “Ferwick was involved in the Allstone job. But don’t look at Hurley; your man will be Stew Galley. He claims to have been screwed over, but everyone knows—or at least everyone but the EPD—that Galley is an incompetent hothead.”

“Well…”

“Well, what?” Yelton replied to his superior.

“You’d better go across the hall and ask Robbery about the Allstone job,” Tagge directed. While his detective grumbled, the homicide captain inquired about their interest in the deceased private investigator.

“We need to speak to whoever is handling the cold cases these days,” Jake replied. As they usually didn’t deal in this area, the teen sleuths were unfamiliar with the names of the current detectives assigned to past cases.

“Nobody around this office,” Tagge revealed before explaining. “Manpower is short, so a few retired detectives have helped pick up the slack for the cold cases. I’m relatively certain that Kierke has the Tully file.”

Jake and Phinn groaned at the retired detective’s name. Then, things got even worse as the captain listed off two more names. Busybody, Inc. had been thrilled when each of the men retired over the last several years.

“The Terrible Trio is back to haunt us,” Jake moaned.

While Phinn nodded before turning to study the whiteboard again, a young officer entered the Homicide Division. Spotting the two teens and the captain, Officer Purkin hurried over to Tagge. A whispered conversation followed. One that Jake didn’t like the look of.

“Dammit, I should’ve known. Alright, follow me,” Captain Tagge ordered, pointing at each teen. Officer Purkin moved to block the door.

“Is there a problem?” Phineas inquired innocently.

“You know damn well what it is,” Tagge replied, ushering them down the hallway past his office. “False report about a person urinating and defecating on the SWAT carrier.”

Taking a right, Phinn and Jake knew where they were headed. Resigned to their fate, Jake moved to enter the first door until Phinn shook his head before stomping over to the second room.

“This is an unlawful detainment, Captain, as Jake can tell you,” Phinn stated.

“I sure can!” the criminal attorney’s son assured before the door to Interrogation Room 2 closed in his face. “Well, now what?”

“Wait. I assume they’ve notified the chief of our presence,” Phinn replied, walking over to sit down at the table.

“You expected this?”

“I had hoped to get held in one of the lower-level interrogation rooms. They have those old-school two-sided mirrors rather than that damn thing,” Phinn noted, flipping off the camera in the corner of the room.

“You better not be recording us! You can’t without even telling us a charge!” Jake yelled at the camera.

“Relax. We’ll be fine. Chief Norberg will understand our reasoning,” Phinn said, propping his feet on the table.

“Can you try to be respectful around here for once?” Jake challenged. Shaking his head at Phinn’s lack of a response, he mulled over what had happened. “Hey, why would you prefer to be in one of the other rooms?”

“I was being thoughtful. You’re the one with the fantasy about breaking out by throwing a chair through a two-way mirror.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, that would be cool. But I don’t think it would work here.”

“Of course not. You’ll get to do it someday in a hick town,” Phinn promised.

Leaning in, Jake asked about the fake report call.

“Let’s just say that a lady friend of ours in the Midwest used a burner phone.”

“Older or younger one?” Jake asked, assuming that Pearl wouldn’t make the fake call.

“Younger,” Phinn confirmed, causing his partner to nod. Cassidy Sasser was more of a troublemaker than her sister. “Allie and Johanna are doing other favors for us. So I opted for an out-of-town friend.”

Ten minutes passed before a bored Jake noticed a difference in the interrogation room.

“You know, I think they painted this room since our last time in here.”

“Hmm, you might be right,” Phinn said, looking up from his phone to study the room. “It looks like a darker shade of tan. Probably had to cover up the blood from their interrogation beatings.”

“Come on, Phinn. They didn’t do that in this room.”

“The cops still don’t beat fake confessions to make themselves look better?”

“Sleep deprivation and lying their asses off still happens in here. But those old-school beatings used to take place in the basement interrogation room. Grandpa said they’d do it down there to cover the screams and hide the blood splatter on the detectives’ clothes. Supposedly, that stopped when Chief Colreavy finally croaked.”

“It didn’t stop that long ago,” Phinn stated. He held back a question about how many times Moe Magnum had found himself in an interrogation room.

Another fifteen minutes passed until Phinn’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. Only then did Jake realize that the police hadn’t confiscated their phones. Not that it mattered to him, since he still needed a replacement for his stolen phone.

“Who was that?”

“Your sister.”

“You know I hate it when Libby contacts you, not me,” Jake complained.

“Besides the fact that you don’t have a phone, Corky isn’t allowed to message me. So your sister had to.”

“Right. Mrs. King doesn’t want Cork corrupted by you.”

“That could be the case, but I told your mini-me never to message me,” Phinn revealed. “However, the kid did more good work today. He overheard the Bethunes’ plans for tonight. They’re going to a play at the Odyssey.”

“Okay, what does that mean for us?”

“We’re committing a crime tonight.”

“Jesus…Are you insane? Keep it down!” Jake hissed, eyeing the camera.

“It’s not a big deal. I want the police watching us tonight. It fits with my plan,” Phinn said. “We still need to think of a way to distract the Bethunes. Even elderly cornered animals can be dangerous.”

“I like Allie and Melody’s idea.”

“It has its merits, but is too expensive, time-consuming, and risky,” Phinn declared. “Even if we had the time to consult with Violet, Quinn, or Luna, we don’t know if any of the blackmail victims look similar to one of them. Sure, we have a dozen photos of Mimi von Essen, but we’d need to search for more of the others in newspapers and high school yearbooks. And then, we don’t know precisely who’s dead, and if the Bethunes would even recognize a fake ghost version enough to startle them. I don’t think a ghost stopping to explain who they are will work.”

“I still like the idea. I’d be startled.”

“I think I have a replacement in mind. We’ll need to hit up Alias Attire after we’re done here. Don’t worry. I’ll use the money my mom left behind to cover our expenses this time. Same with Forge Emporium. We need a few small pieces of equipment from that unsettling place.”

“You want to stop there?” Jake asked about the firearms and military surplus store.

“You know, you’re right. Those people in there are creepy. Reminds me of Greene or worse,” Phinn remarked. “We’ll stop at Orlando’s instead. I prefer the pawnshop clientele. He probably has what we need. And we haven’t seen him in a few weeks.”

“What do we need?”

“We’ll wait to discuss that until we’re out of this room.”

Nearly another fifty minutes passed until the door finally opened to reveal Officer Purkin.

“It’s about time. What if Jake needed to piss or drop a deuce? He does eat and drink quite often,” Phinn pointed out. “I suggested the corner, but preferred that he’d wait.”

“Come on. The chief said to bring you upstairs since you won’t answer any questions while in an interrogation room.”

“You see? Chief Norbeg knows us all too well.”

Jake nodded as he hurried out of the interrogation room. The young officer took them out a side door toward another elevator, thus avoiding a potential scene in the main Homicide office. The troublesome teens eventually passed through the small antechamber outside the police chief’s office. Jake noticed his missing secretary, who was likely off for the weekend. Frowning, the teen had hoped to see the gorgeous secretary in weekend summer attire.

“Good morning, Chief Norberg! Were they biting today?” Phinn greeted the man in an overly chipper voice when he noticed his fishing outfit and hat.

“They were until I had to drive halfway across the state to get back here.”

“Uh, sorry,” Jake muttered.

“I think whoever called you should be the person to apologize. We didn’t actually require your presence in person. A phone call would have sufficed,” Phinn clarified.

“What the hell are you doing breaking into police headquarters?”

“We did not break in anywhere!” Jake insisted. “We simply walked inside.”

“You can check the footage,” Phinn added. “However, we have strong suspects for the murder of Terry Tully. That’s our main reason for visiting today. Also, I wanted to assure you that we think the report of Angelo Manfredi in Blueview was likely a false sighting.”

“What sighting?”

“Are you serious?” Phinn questioned, glancing at Jake. “Wow, either the Marshal Service is holding out on you, or your police intelligence is even worse than I thought.”

“Where did you learn this?” Chief Norberg questioned.

“We do have friends in our line of business,” Jake reminded him. He left out that their fellow friendly teen detectives mostly consisted of Dusty or the Sassy Girls, who they needed as a go-between, since Phinn disliked most of the other groups. “One of them talked to such a group from Blueview.”

“But it’s a young, inexperienced group. They probably imagined the sighting. If anything, Jake and I have felt more concerned about our safety lately. People in masks have been sighted around our block the last several nights.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think you should replace Updike with another officer tonight. His presence was way too obvious. Perhaps Officer Wishkoski would be better,” Phinn suggested.

Satisfied that he brought his grievance and suggestion to the chief’s attention, Phinn joined Jake in making busy talk for another fifteen minutes until they left with a warning to behave and stay out of trouble. Chief Norberg also promised to investigate whether the marshals had kept the Blueview sighting from the EPD. The teens left while he muttered about federal jurisdiction bullshit and glory-seekers.

“Was all that worth it?’ Jake asked while they descended in the elevator.

“Yes, I needed to ensure there is a police presence in our neighborhood again for when we enter the lion’s den.”

“Wait, I thought that’s what we just did!”

“You thought that, and I never corrected it. No, by the lion’s den, I mean the Bethune home.”

“Shit, that’s the crime we’ll be committing?”

Nodding, Phinn opened the front entrance to the station, allowing Jake to exit first. As expected, his out-of-the-loop partner reacted with shock as several reporters and cameramen surged forward.

As usual, Hollie Kittler looked fabulous in her cream blouse and gray pencil skirt. Still, Phinn had to give credit to Allie and Johanna. They’d managed to turn out far more reporters than expected. Besides the usual three main stations from Anchor Rock, a news radio station had sent a reporter, along with several newspaper journalists. Phinn suspected that Erin warned Kennedy Eaton not to waste her time, as the Edgewater Dispatch had sent over a summer intern. Another college-aged young man appeared slightly familiar, leading Phinn to wonder if the Bentworth Bulletin had increased its skeleton staff for the summer.

“Jake has no comment at this time concerning the threats against his life by Angelo “Monster” Manfredi,” Phinn announced, stepping in front of his confused partner. “No, no, please respect his privacy at this trying time.”

“Mr. Magnum, what did the police want with you?” Hollie Kittler asked, ignoring Phinn while shoving her Channel 9 microphone past him.

After the slightest nods and eye contact, Layla LeClaire stepped forward to ask the planted question. “Jake, is it true that Angelo Manfredi not only burglarized your home but he also appeared at your family’s rummage sale?”

“What?” Hollie questioned, glaring in shock at Channel 5’s newest sports reporter.

“As I said, Jake will not have any comments at this time about the brutal break-in or his recent attack,” Phinn stated, drawing attention to the fading bruises on his face.

The comment and evidence of an attack by the escaped convict caused a fervor among the media. Even more stunning to Jake, two of his friends, whom he hadn’t heard from much this past week, suddenly stepped forward to act as his bodyguards. Wearing sunglasses, the pair of sizeable football players quickly formed a protective circle around their friend, escorting him to Andre’s waiting SUV. Luke would drive Jake’s sedan to the agreed-upon rendezvous point.

“We’re sorry, but it’s possible that Jake might be available for a lunch or dinner interview tomorrow. Call him.” Phinn mouthed the last part at Hollie over Luke and Andre’s shoulders. Left unsaid was that Allie had already promised her cousin a breakfast or lunch interview tomorrow. After Hollie’s attitude during The Phantom Diver Case, she’d need to work harder to land such an interview date.

“What’s going on?” Jake asked, handing Phinn his keys while Andre hustled him into the backseat.

“I just made Kittler desire you more while increasing the pressure on the police to have a heavy presence in our neighborhood tonight,” Phinn explained. “We’ll meet at the costume store.”

“I don’t understand…”

“It’s time to scare the shit out of a pair of senior citizens,” Phinn explained, earning confused looks from Luke and Andre.