The chronological order of my stories to read is:
Todd & Melina series., Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series 1-4.
Russian Roulette series 1-2 (may not yet be published)
Case of the Murdered Lovers
So.... let's see if soap-opera-police-dramas with sex are of interest to Literotica readers...
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.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
Part 8 - Interview
My reverie was broken by a sharp knock on the door to my office. It was Hugh Hewitt. "Time to go." he said. I followed him upstairs, knowing I had to get my head back in the game.
We met Lt. Britt Maxwell upstairs. As we sped along to President Wellman's house, I told Britt and Hugh how I wanted the interview to go. I also told Britt that if President Wellman tried to hang around, I'd need her to get him out of the room somehow.
Once there, Sally Wellman let us in, giving Hugh and myself looks that bespoke a hungry Cougar on the prowl for young men for sex. We were shown into a den with sofas and chairs and President Wellman brought Joe Arruzio into the room. Arruzio looked much better than he had the night of his wife's murder, though he still looked solemn.
"Mr. Arruzio, thank you for meeting with us today." I said. "You remember Lieutenant Maxwell?" He nodded and I introduced Hugh. "This is my partner, Detective Hewitt."
"The war hero, right?" Arruzio said, then offered his hand to Hewitt. "It's an honor to meet you; I've heard about some of the things you did."
"Thank you, sir." Hewitt said, blushing at the praise. For myself, I was noting how adroitly Arruzio had steered the conversation into something less tense, and also potentially ingratiating himself with us. We sat down for the interview.
"Mr. Arruzio," Lt. Maxwell began, on cue, "we've checked your story and whereabouts during the time of the crimes, and everything checks out." Arruzio looked attentive but also relieved as Britt continued, "We still have to ask you some questions that you may find personal and probing, but it's to ascertain if you had or have any enemies that might have done this."
Arruzio nodded. "I understand. If there's anything I can do to help..."
"Thank you, sir." I said, picking up the bit. "First, you said that you were supposed to have a meeting with business partners, but that it was cancelled. Can you give us the names of those partners?"
"The only name I actually know is Jack King." Arruzio said. The others were part of his group and I hadn't met them before, and I never got their names. It was an initial contact meeting." I got the information of how to contact King.
Per our plan, Hugh Hewitt asked the next question: "Sir, we understand you were celebrating something and bought a round at the bar. Could you tell us more about that?"
Arruzio's face did not change as he said "Some other deals I had going were taking turns for the good. It was somewhat... spontaneous of me, I guess, to go to the bar and buy everyone a round, but I just felt good about it."
"I understand." I said, to ease any tensions that question might have brought. Then I hit him with the bomb: "Sir, can you tell me where you went to high school?"
"Why, er... Demetrius High School in--" Arruzio said, naming the town and state of that school. "Detective, do you really think someone from as far back as high school would hold such a grudge that he'd kill my wife now?"
"One never knows, sir." I said, "but we also have had some trouble identifying where you went to high school." As I expected, Arruzio was realizing that we'd been checking into his past, but he seemed unfazed. He got up, went to his briefcase and fished out a document.
"I can explain that." he said. "I was adopted as a baby, and don't remember anything about my real parents. Do you remember the Pressley bank fraud case about 30 years ago?" Britt and Hugh looked blank, but I remembered hearing of it, as my father had been legal counsel to the Apple Grove bank that was one of many that had been defrauded.
As I nodded, Arruzio looked at me and said "Pressley was my adopted father. The scandal happened when I was just graduating high school. That's when my mother told me that I was adopted, and gave me this copy of my original birth certificate. 'Arruzio' is my real birth name. My mother suggested that I take that name back, so to not be stained with any connections to my father."
Arruzio handed me the birth certificate. I looked at it, passed it to Lt. Maxwell, and wrote down the number and place it was issued as she examined it.
"Well, that makes sense." I said. "You don't think anyone from that time knows you're Pressley's adopted son, do you?"
"I seriously doubt it." Arruzio said.
"Sir, what about your own financial deals?" Hewitt asked, suddenly changing the direction of the conversation, as pre-planned. "Did any go bad, or perhaps good at someone else's expense? Was there anyone who might wish to harm you or your wife because of any of those deals?"
That led to a long discussion of some of Arruzio's deals. He spoke in fairly vague terms, and said several times he'd have to get information from files to get us details on the people involved.
After a few more questions to get some timeframes correct, we thanked Arruzio for his time, said our goodbye's and thanks to the Wellmans, and headed back to headquarters.
"Crap." Britt said as we pulled out onto the road. "He might start hiding or destroying documents related to those deals. Did we make a mistake mentioning them instead of subpoenaing them?"
"No." I said, to Hugh's relief. "They don't matter." Seeing the looks of shock on their faces, I realized I'd said more than I'd intended. "Guys, Myron is going to find more on Arruzio's deals than Arruzio would be able to give us." I said, covering my tracks. They seemed mollified.
"What's next?" asked Hugh.
"Lunch." I said. "And then back to headquarters. I'm going to put Myron on the scent of one live birth certificate and certain adoption papers."
Part 9 - New Direction, New Suspects
"We've got something." Tanya Perlman stated, bursting into my office. Good thing for her that I wanted to fuck her; I excused her rudeness knowing she was excited and enthusiastic about something. "Possible place where Burke was living."
"Possible?" I asked witheringly. "We don't get things done with just 'possible' around here."
Tanya's look back was just as withering. "Well, what we do have is an apartment in the Central district... the rent was paid for every month for the past four months with a credit card paid for by Marie Arruzio, but using her maiden name from a bank account created... just four months ago."
"Okay, 'possible' is now looking 'promising'. Let's get a warrant." I said. Tanya was back to mischievously grinning again.
"ADA Patterson is already on it. The judge is pissed off he's having to work so hard on Sunday, but she'll probably have it for us by the time we get our stuff." Our "stuff" meant bulletproof vests. Hugh and Cindy were outside the door; they already had theirs on. It took just moments for Perlman and myself to put ours on and be ready to go.
Upstairs we were met in the hallway by Chief Griswold, Captain Harold Malone and Detective Teresa Croyle. Teresa had her vest on, also. "She's going with you." Malone said, almost maliciously.
"Okay, fine." I said, not arguing. "Perlman, you get to stay here. I don't need the whole frickin' Force for this." Perlman pouted as the rest of us left and got into a police van.
Moments later we were in the modest Central district, which was on the west side of the main north-south highway that split the Town to the west and University to the east. Some college students lived there but mostly it was average-income workers. There were a number of apartments. As we pulled up to the address, I noted that these apartments were not well-kept, on the lower end of the scale of the neighborhood.
We took up positions near the door. Hugh Hewitt would knock. To my surprise, Teresa Cunt was almost physically holding me back.
Hugh knocked and got no answer to his summons. He then tried a key that had been obtained from the dead man's personal effects. It opened the door.
The apartment was still and nearly completely empty. Once cleared, we began looking around. Some utensils, dishes and cans of food were in the kitchen. A futon was in the bedroom, nothing more than a mattress, really. A few items of clothing, all in Jack Burke's size. But in a closet Hugh found some electronic equipment.
