Morals Operations Silences and Murders: Det. Lt. Nick Storie Mysteries, #3

By C. D. Moulton

A collection of three books in the Det. Lt. Nick Storie -Mysteries series.

Morality Play
A man who owns a plastics plant that employs troubled youths who have had trouble with the law is murdered. Nick identifies the killer, then the killer is murdered.

Deadly Operation
Serena Lovell, who Nick met in Morality Play, calls to tell him there have been some disturbing deaths in the ICU, at Mercy, where she is head nurse. Is a doctor killing off patients who have invested in a business he runs?

A Sudden Silence
A very popular man, the neighborhood wailing wall, is murdered on the street. There isn't a single clue to grab onto except one of those sudden silences that happened when the shot was fired. When Nick solves that one, It really gets hairy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C. D. Moulton
• Release date: Oct 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215840252

Book preview

Nick Storie Mysteries

Morals Operations Silences and Murders

Three books

© 2020 by C. D. Moulton

all rights reserved: no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright holder/publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to actual persons or events are purely coincidental unless otherwise stated.

Morality Play

A man who owns a plastics plant that employs troubled youths who have had trouble with the law is murdered. Nick identifies the killer, then the killer is murdered.

Deadly Operation

Serena Lovell, who Nick met in Morality Play, calls to tell him there have been some disturbing deaths in the ICU, at Mercy, where she is head nurse. Is a doctor killing off patients who have invested in a business he runs?

A Sudden Silence

A very popular man, the neighborhood wailing wall, is murdered on the street. There isn’t a single clue to grab onto except one of those sudden silences that happened when the shot was fired. When Nick solves that one, It really gets hairy.

Contents

About the author

Morality Play

Prologue

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Epilogue

Deadly Operation

Prologue a

Chapter one a

Chapter two a

Chapter three a

Chapter four a

Chapter five a

Chapter six a

Chapter seven a

Chapter eight a

Chapter nine a

Epilogue a

A Sudden Silence

Prologue b

Chapter one b

Chapter two b

Chapter three b

Interim b

Chapter four b

Chapter five b

Chapter six b

Chapter seven b

Chapter eight b

Epilogue b

About the author

CD was born in Lakeland, Florida, in 1938. He is educated in genetics and botany. He has traveled extensively, particularly when he was a rock rhythm guitarist with some well-known bands in the late sixties and early seventies. He has worked as a high steel worker and as a longshoreman, clerk, orchidist, bar owner, salvage yard manager, and landscaper and more.

CD began writing fiction in 1984 and has more than 300 books published in SciFi, murder, orchid culture, and various other fields.

He now resides in Gualaca, Chiriqui, Panamá, where he continues research into epiphytic plants and plays music with friends. He loves the culture of the indigenous people. He funds those he can afford through the universities, where they have all excelled. The Indios are very intelligent people, they are simply too poor (in material things and money. Culturally, they are very wealthy) to pursue higher education.

CD loves Panamá and the people, despite horrendous experiences (Free e-book; Fading Paradise). He plans to spend the rest of his life in the paradise that is Panamá

CD is involved in research of natural cancer cure at this time. It is based on a plant that has been in use for centuries, is safe, available, and cheap. Information about this cure is free on the FaceBook page: Ambrosia peruviana for cancer.

Morality Play

Nick Storie Mysteries  Book seven

© 1993 & 2011 by C. D. Moulton

A man who owns a plastics plant that employs troubled youths who have had trouble with the law is murdered. Nick identifies the killer, then the killer is murdered.

Critic comment

Moulton has captured a psychological type better here than he did in Hellstorm, albeit a far different psychology. This one is good. – JMD ****½

Prologue

All right, relax! Take a deep breath, hold it, exhale. That's better!

Dale A. Jordan, owner and CEO of Jordan Florida Plastics Specialties, looked across his neat desk at the stern, matronly, middle-aged woman sitting there, and sighed. Again.

Mrs. Littleton, please stop to think before you repeat what some gossip is trying to spread about me and about the program. I assure you, none of this has any basis in fact, whatever. It's merely spite. This isn't something one runs around the community making accusations about unless that one has some kind of proof.

Hah! I have all the proof I need! she replied, haughtily. The very suggestion of this kind of thing demands that we concerned parents take immediate strong action! I'll see you out of here and away from our children!

He sighed again. "The suggestion, as you say, very definitely demands immediate action. I agree fully.

"I suggest the first action is to determine if there's any truth to the accusations – a step you and your little group have seemingly decided not to take.

He picked up the little booklet, made a sour face, and waved it a few inches under her nose, then dropped it carelessly on his desk.

That makes it libel. You leave me no choice. I am forced by your refusal to determine the truth or lack of such before saying and printing scurrilous and malicious attacks on my character to defend myself. In a court of law!

Every word in that paper is true! she spat. "I heard every word directly from Sarah Milkins' own mouth, and you did suggest exactly, word-for-word, the things we're telling concerned parents that you suggested!"

Sarah Milkins. Thank you very much. He smiled. "Perhaps you'd be far better off to check up a bit on Sarah Milkins and the reputation she's already earned before you take anything she says as gospel.

I suggest you leave. Now. You'll hear from my attorneys. So will Miss Milkins.

Ha! Sarah will testify in court that it's true! she snarled. You're some kind of animal!

Sarah Milkins has a bit of a reputation, herself, he replied, with a little snort. "One of the little things you didn't bother to check on, hmmm? Maybe she's testified in court, before.

"Did you ask yourself – or anyone else – what she's doing in the program? What all of them are doing in the program?

You might have your own attorneys investigate how much her word's worth in a courtroom, Mrs. Littleton! Goodbye!

"Hah! We'll see what a court has to say!" she said, drawing back to sneer at him.

Get out!

She snorted and stamped out, slamming the door. June Ralston, his secretary, came in with a raised eyebrow.

Sarah Milkins, he said, simply. This idiocy's listed their idiotic complaints from three girls, but now we know where it came from.

What does she have against you? June asked, taking the tape from the recorder that was sitting on the desk.

Probably only that I told her the next time she sneaks out of the plant for a couple of hours I'll see her dropped from the program. What the hell..!?

There was a loud crash in the outer office and the sound of breaking glass. He and June ran out to find a large man in blue jeans and a tee shirt with Abortion is Murder! Abortionists are Murderers! across the front, standing over the hot-cold water dispenser, which he'd apparently thrown through the fish tank.

June squealed. Dale picked up the desk phone, punched 0-0, and said, Security! Main office! and put it down, to continue, And you are?

The man glared and snarled, I'm Harold Robert Manners, the father of Gloria Jean Manners! I'm gonna blow your lousy head off for you, you sleazy child molesting bastard!

Anytime you feel froggy, leap! Dale replied, coolly. He kept himself in prime condition, and wasn't a too small man, himself. The difference was, he was hard muscle, not flab and fat. I'll warn you I can take on any three of your type of...! He ducked as the paperweight flew at his head, stepped sideways and forward, and let fly with a right hook that jarred Manners off his feet, dropping him onto his knees as Goodman and Flynn, from security, burst into the room.

"Detain Mr. Bad Manners until the police arrive! June, call the police and see that this mess is paid for. It's that or charges.

Call Forrest, Kline, and Roberts. I'll be in my office.

Two women and a man came to the door from the parking lot to stare in at the scene. One of them said, Harold? What happened?

You'll be Mrs. Manners, Dale stated. You? He looked at the other pair.

What's going on in here? the man demanded. Harold, what's going on here? Did he attack you?

"Quite to the contrary. Mr. Manners first attacked me, then I defended myself.

I take it you're one of the Littleton group?

We're Larry and Mildred Owens, the woman answered. We're members of the Concerned Parents Morality League. Martha Owens is our daughter. I'm sure you know who she is!

"No, quite frankly, I don't! Quite as frankly, I don't care! This has gone too far! You people should find a way to pass your time that doesn't involve malicious slander, libel, defamation of character, and physical violence! In case the Littleton bitch didn't tell you, I'm suing the piss out of the lot of you!

"Get out of this office! Get off my property or, by all that's holy, I'll personally throw the bunch of you out!

That doesn't include you, Manners. You pay for this mess or you face other charges!

He turned and walked back into his office, where he got the shakes for a few minutes. When he lost his temper, that happened – and he'd lost it, this time!

How in the hell could all this be happening?

Mr. Roberts is on line two, June said, over the intercom. Don Botts and Bill Vore are here to see you.

Tell Don to come back in an hour, please. Tell Bill to close down the program line and send them all home. He can hire some people to run that project. So-called community service by this company is over!

He picked up the phone and punched line two.

Joy Littleton stormed from the office, marched to the parents waiting in Harold's mini-van, and announced that Dale Jordan was sitting in there pretending innocence, and was going to try the old Attack-is-defense ploy, threatening to sue them!

She didn't wait for any reply, just went to her car and got in. She was so furious she couldn't see straight! That animal had the gall to try to pretend he didn't know what was going on!

He'd been found out! That’s what was going on! Sweet little Sarah Milkins was only sixteen! She'd been crying very real tears, and had been in very real distress when she'd told of how that animal had pinched her breasts and suggested those ... disgusting things! No sixteen year old child would even know anything about that kind of depravity!

It was true the program was for people, young people, actually for mere children who were in trouble, of one sort or another, but Sarah was not making up such minutely described things! A sixteen year old child had never even heard of those things.

Well, they were daily on the news and in the papers, but these children didn't watch the news or read any newspapers.

Maybe she should have checked on what Sarah had done to be in the program, but Joy was sure it couldn't be anything serious. Sarah was only a child!

Still, if she actually had a reputation for telling fibs, would Jordan really stand a chance of suing the league?

Harold was furious. He had a temper. He was pretty big.

Oh, good lord! He was going to go in there and confront Jordan, now! He'd probably beat him up!

Joy started to jump out and yell to let the police handle it, but it was too late, now. The others were going to follow Harold, so she probably couldn't do anything to stop them, anyhow. There was going to be big trouble.

She was getting one of her migraines. She didn't need this tension!

Joy Littleton started her car and backed out. As she drove off, she was thinking how someone like Dale Jordan deserved hanging. Somebody was going to shoot a person like him right between the eyes! It was inevitable!

Could he really sue them for anything, and collect? Could that kind of insult actually be added to the injury he had already inflicted on god-only-knows how many innocent little girls?

He deserved getting shot! So far as she was concerned, every single one of his type should be stood against a wall and shot, square between the eyes! That would be the lord's vengeance!

Harold Manners listened to Joy explaining how that miserable bastard sat there and actually mocked her, after demanding she come to his office to justify the pamphlet exposing just what kind of degenerate animal he was.

What? He was going to sue them!?

Joy was livid. She marched to her car and got in.

Well, Harold Robert Manners wasn't going to wimp out and sit there on his fat lazy ass while some two-bit scumbucket made those indecent proposals to his own daughter!

His Gloria Jean was certainly no angel, and it was true she'd been sleeping with that Bond boy since she was fifteen, but he was her age, not some thirty year old letch!

Maybe she didn't always tell the truth, but neither did he.

Okay. At first, he'd thought she was making it up, because she didn't like Jordan always being so strict with her at the job, but the Sarah Milkins girl had convinced him. She was a true innocent, if he ever saw one – and built! Sixteen, and built like a brick shithouse!

That's what made him believe. He could see how any guy would want a piece of that, young or not!

Harold jumped out of the van and strode to the office. No one was there, but the door to the back office was closed, and he could hear the faint sounds of voices, one female. The son of a bitch probably had some young girl back there, right now! Somebody ought to put a bullet through the bastard's head for him! If he had his gun, he'd do it, right now!

Harold picked up the water cooler and threw it at the fancy fish tank in the wall. That would get the bastard's attention!

The office door flew open, and Jordan ran out, followed by a pretty woman in her late twenties. She had that ratty blonde hairstyle, but was really nice looking – and he didn't have any idea Jordan was so damned big! It was almost instinctive for him to grab the paperweight and throw it.

Jordan was as fast as he was big. The lights went out, for a minute. He was on his knees. It was all confusion. He'd have to pay for the fish tank, now, and he didn't have any spare money for that kind of thing.

It was so confusing!

Julie and the Owens were yelling about the girls, or something. Two men were holding him up. Jordan slammed into his office.

He should have gone home for his gun, in the first place. The only way to settle that bastard's hash was a bullet, right between the eyes!

Julia Manners stared in horror as Joy described the meeting in Jordan's office. She was never actually convinced the girls had told the truth about what happened at the program. Gloria Jean didn't bother with the truth, all the time.

On the other hand, something had happened.

Gloria Jean knew the basics about sex, and had been using the pill from the first with her boyfriend. Julia knew she'd been lucky when she and the Miller boy, the preacher's son, had been so intimate at her daughter's age. She made sure Gloria Jean had the knowledge and means to protect herself so she wouldn't have to depend on luck.

What convinced her the girls were doing something with someone were the extremely detailed descriptions of things only someone experienced with sex would know. She didn't know some of it, and she'd had a normal amount of experience, herself.

The horror to her in Joy's tirade was that Jordan was going to sue them. They had no money for lawyers! If the girls had been lying about it being Jordan who taught them all ... that he would take everything they had!

Harold stormed out and toward the office. His childish temper would only make things worse!

Julia argued for a minute, then she and the Owens went to the office just as they saw two burly men run in.

They were really in for it now! Jordan would have enough added to really take them to the cleaners. Somebody ought to shoot him!

At times like this, she wouldn't much care if somebody shot Harold at the same time.

The Owens listened to Joy, and nodded to one another. Just as they thought! He was going to, not only get away with it, he was going to sue them, on top of it!

Martha hadn’t quite gotten her story straight. They were sure somebody else was involved, but Jordan was the only one she named. She wouldn't meet their eyes, so there was more to it.

Larry was the quiet type. He'd be all for going to the home of Dale Jordan and putting a bullet in his head and getting out. No clues. He wouldn't even be suspected.

Come to that, Mildred would handle it exactly the same way!

Mark Goodman and Jimmy Flynn ran for the office as soon as the call came in. Some jerk had smashed the aquarium and had attacked Dale.

Stupid! Dale could take any five like that bum!

There was something going on about the rehab program. That was behind it, somehow.

Dale said to make the asshole pay for the tank and to clean the rug or to bring some felony vandalism and assault charges against him. Things calmed right down. The wife agreed to pay for the fish tank and to stay away from the property. They explained the charges could be brought for two years, in case the agreement was broken, and let the ass go.

Stupid crud said he'd like to blow Dale's brains out for him! Mark told him that was a threat they'd make note of. If anyone took a shot at Dale Jordan – ever – they'd know right where to look for the idiot, wouldn't they?

Jimmy told him how he'd now put himself into a position where, if somebody else croaked Dale, he'd go up for it, sure as sunset!

Stupid crummy asshole jerk!

Don Botts and Bill Vore looked around the office. Mark and Jimmy were marching some fat guy out, there was water all over the place, June was putting fish in the half-empty water cooler bottle, and two women and a man were standing outside the door, arguing about some young girl or other.

June grinned, rolled her eyes, and slid the bottle of fish to the side as maintenance came in. She used the phone to call some law firm, then called Dale on the intercom to say the lawyer was on the line. She also told him they were there for the meeting.

Bill groaned when Dale said the rehab program was dead. That was going to put a lot on him with the project they were in the middle of. He had plenty of other problems with any changes now!

Don grinned, and slapped him on the back. Better you than me! As they were leaving, June got an intercom message from security that the one who broke the tank threatened to blow Dale's brains out for him.

It certainly hadn't been a dull day!

Melvin Roberts looked across his desk at Rev. Martin Johnson. "The reason I've asked you here is in connection with a little group you started, the Concerned Parents Morality League, and its unfounded attacks on Mr. Jordan. As is often the case with such groups, you've gone far past the bonds of decency and morality, yourselves.

"Bluntly, this disgusting little pamphlet you've printed that I hold in my hand is blatantly libelous! Such actions are wholly intolerable! You have, personally, involved yourself in this thing. Mr. Jordan's only recourse now is to bring suit against you.

"We wish to avoid bringing the church into it, as we believe these actions were instituted by you, personally, and not by the church. This is malicious slander.

"That does not mean we will not bring suit against the church, as well, should you not absolve them from liability.

Do I make myself quite clear?

Everything in that pamphlet is true, so your silly suit will come to nothing! Johnson sneered. "Your Mr. Jordan is going to get exactly what he deserves! God will see the evil erased from the face of the Earth!

This is not the first ... encounter ... I've had with Mr. Jordan and his evil ways!

"I see. Retreat into fanaticism. As I stated earlier, everything said in this office is recorded. I am quite familiar with your earlier encounters with Mr. Jordan, and would welcome your mentioning them in a courtroom, where I will have the right to cross-examine you, under oath.

You refuse to absolve the church?

God's church needs no absolution! Johnson replied, still with the sneer. My acts are the acts of the church, instructed by God!

I see. Even when we can prove that Mr. Jordan was in Denver, Colorado, on business during the times certain allegations are charged? Roberts smirked. "Tell me, Rev. Johnson. Didn't God include that little fact in your instructions?

I'm trying to be ... excuse me.

The light on his desk phone base lit, and there was a buzzing sound, meaning he had a very important call coming in. He picked up the phone, listened a minute, then punched hold, to stare at Johnson.

"Your little group went to Mr. Jordan's office, vandalized it, and then physically attacked Mr. Jordan. One of them even directly threatened to come back and blow Mr. Jordan's brains out.

"Tell me, Rev. Johnson. How much of that was instructed by God?

"I am going to very greatly enjoy questioning you, under oath – and you will find that oath is taken seriously, there, in a public courtroom. You are not going to enjoy that questioning.

Good day, Rev. Johnson. You're familiar with the old saying, 'don't let the doorknob hit you...?'

He waited until the red-faced Johnson was out, then punched the line button, and said, "Dale? Melvin Roberts here.

Exciting day, hunh?

Chapter one

See you and raise you a quarter, Paddy (Capt. James Paddy James) countered, shifting his enormous bulk around in his chair.

Paddy stood six four and weighed substantially more than three hundred pounds. He was station captain for the new South Naples branch of the sheriff's department violent crimes division. (It had been the Naples City Police Station until recently, when the county sheriff's dept. had it transferred to them. Little had changed, except their area of duty was expanded a bit.)

Yuck! I fold, Dr. Tiny Menthorne, coroner, replied, as he dropped his hand on the table and shifted his even larger bulk back in the protesting chair.

The regular Thursday night poker game was in full swing. This time of the year, homicide had almost no calls, so the officers met to keep each other company. It was 9:30 Thursday night, so wives and husbands knew where to find them.

See you and raise you another quarter, Sgt. Marsha Blevins, aide to Paddy and real power in the office countered. Hank's fixing a barbecue for the guys at the fire station and their various wives or whatevers this Saturday, so you're all invited.

Hank was Marsha's husband, a fireman. He was the best barbecue chef in Southwest Florida in everyone in the office’s opinion. He and Marsha were teased relentlessly because they were blacks who liked ribs, chicken, and watermelon – as did everyone on the staff, only a few of whom were black.

There was no malice in the frequent teasing. They were a very tight-knit group, almost a family. Marsha and Hank teased the others about their honky or whitey traits.

I'm in, Lt. Jim Hill said.

Jim was day shift homicide head, and one hell of a good cop and friend. He lived on a long barrier island with his expectant wife, and the group (minus Paddy, who refused ever to get on a boat) often spent weekends there.

Janet and I have plans to be there, Nick (Lt. Nathaniel Storie. Janet was his wife) said. I'm in.

Lonnie and Drums are back from Martinique, Marsha continued. "Pancho's staying at Lonnie's for a couple of weeks. Drums and Annette finally got hitched while they were on the island. It sort of surprised me. I didn't think Drums would ever marry.

Want to bet he settles down and turns into a perfect husband and father?

Lonnie was Lonnie Micks, an extraordinarily handsome man Nick met on a case. Drums was also extremely handsome, in another way, and was also drummer for the famous rock band, Not So Hard Times. Nick met him on another case.

Nick made friends easily, even with most of the murderers he caught. The vacations were on the hideaway Nick and Janet got as a wedding present from Pancho De Gulio, thought to be a major drug lord, at the time. It turned out he really wasn't. He had been conning both the police and the drug dealers and had become vastly wealthy in the process. He sent most of the wealth to take care of his people in Peru, but knew so much about so many people he still held great power over a lot of them.

Call, Paddy replied. They played another minute, and Marsha took the hand. Almost ten dollars, which was a major pot, in their game. The winnings were always donated in the winner's name to the fund they paid for the barbecues and weekends with. The game was held because they liked poker and each other.

Nick! Incoming! Two! Vic, night shift desk sgt. called.

Nick was on duty from six PM until two AM. He picked up the phone and punched line two. He gave his name and listened, then punched the call to forensics. Tiny groaned, and said he was glad Klein was on, and not him.

Got to run, Nick complained. Got a body over on Periwinkle Way. Woman says he's got a bullet square between his eyes. Some guy by the name of Jordan.

Not Dale Jordan? Plastics company? Marsha asked.

Mmm. Uh-huh. Why?

Got a call, earlier, that claimed he was threatened, Jim said. "Mark Goodman. Used to work East Station. Works for the guy. The report's in the file basket on my desk. Some turkey said he was gonna blow his brains out. Looks like he did!

"Plastics plant, guy comes in and tears up the place, Jordan decks him. Choice between charges or paying for the mess.

There's a police report. We were called to be sure everything was official if the turkey tried to back out of paying the six hundred bucks for a fish tank, or something. Most of what you need's on my desk.

At least it'll be easy! Nick grinned and waved. Ciao!

He was supposed to attend a formal dinner date, earlier, the statuesque totally stunning red-head said. "We spend a lot of time together. I have my key, and came in about two minutes before I called. He was right there. Like that!

"Before you ask me, I'm a nurse, and I've seen a lot of dead bodies, so I didn't panic or scream. It hit me hard, because I cared a lot for him.

"My name's Serena Lovell. Twelve seventeen Palm Court Place. I'd guess he was killed less than an hour before I found him. No more than an hour and a half ago.

Can I fix some coffee? I can sure use some!

Yes, Nick replied. Where were you at nine?

"On night duty. Mercy. Three East, IC-cardiac. That's a twenty minute drive when you don't stop for gas at the Circle-K on Seventh and Grand, where they know me.

"If you get massive heart failure in some person with no heart history, without a traceable cause, maybe it was me. I know how that would work, and it's clean and quick. This is messy, which I'm not. I know you've got to ask.

How do you like your coffee? With or without the addition of exotic untraceable additives?

Black, if it's good, Nick grinned. Neither her grin nor his had any humor in it.

Jordan was sitting at his desk. HE had fallen face down on the blotter pad. There was a single shot, right between his eyes, with a thirty eight or .357, according to the looks of it.

Dr. David Klein checked over the body and murder scene as soon as Frog Forest finished taking the CSI photos and videos. He quickly confirmed Serena's time of death.

Serena served coffee. Frog couldn't keep his eyes off her.

There wasn't evidence of much of anything. It appeared Jordan had a meeting with someone, and didn't expect trouble. The wooden arms of the chair across the desk from Jordan were wiped clean, as was a small section of the desk immediately in front of it. The inside front doorknob was also wiped clean.

Whoever it was, they came here specifically to kill him, Klein reported. "They were careful to not touch anything they didn't have to, and wiped where they did touch, which was the chair arms, the desk, and the doorknob. Probably opened the front door to leave, wiped the knob clean, and closed it with a handkerchief or something.

I'm about through. We'll transport if you don't have anything else. This one won't depend much on the physical evidence.

Nick nodded. He wasn't going to solve this one on the standard clues.

He asked Serena about friends and enemies. She didn't know much about enemies, except for some preacher who had almost conned him into donating a lot of money for things he found the church already had or didn't need.

"Dale wasn't religious, but he sometimes gave to those things he thought would be worthwhile. He always was very careful to investigate charities, so he had that crook by the balls and would twist if he ever tried anything like that again.

He was like that. He hated a crook, particularly one who hid behind the Bible or the flag.

It wasn't much, if you consider what's going on all the time, but maybe it was a start. Whatever, it would have to wait for the morning.

Nick often worked his cases on double shifts. Paddy knew how that was, and would call in someone for his regular shifts if it seemed necessary, until this was solved or stalemated.

Nick didn't have any stalemated cases.

Yet.

Nick looked at June Ralston. Why did some women do that? She was actually very attractive, having clean-cut features, a nice figure, and perfect skin. She used little makeup, and used what she did well – then she went for the Dirty Look with her hair, ruining the whole effect. It reminded him of the fad of a few years ago where a man dressed neatly, had his hair styled to fit – then went around with a three day beard, making him look like a street bum who found some good clothes in a Dumpster.

I'll tell you what I have, Nick told her. "It isn't much, I'll admit.

"Somebody met with Mr. Jordan, last night, in his home, at about a quarter to nine to nine o'clock, sat across his desk from him, and shot him, once, in the head.

"Miss Lovell came in at nine thirty and found him. She called us.

"I understand there was some kind of vandalism problem over here yesterday afternoon, and that a man by the name of Harold Manners threatened him, after breaking up some furniture and attacking him.

"Miss Lovell knew of only one other person who didn't like Mr. Jordan. A preacher.

"I have to ask everyone who knew him some questions. You already know what some of them are, so please don't pretend to be insulted.

First, where were you between eight thirty and nine fifteen last night, and who can vouch for you?

"It was a Thursday night. I was home. Alone. I watched `Mystery!' on channel thirty from nine to ten. An Inspector Morse mystery. Part two. Murder at a cricket match. The coach did it. I talked on the phone with Mom about a quarter to, but there's no way she can say what phone I called from.

You might check on where Lovell was!

"I did. She was on duty, assisting in a triple bypass recovery in the intensive care unit, Mercy Hospital, until nine, and stopped at a Circle-K for gas at nine twenty two, according to her receipt and the boy at the counter.

You don't like Miss Lovell?

"I asked for that, didn't I? No, I don't like his Miss Lovell, and you'll find out about it, anyhow, so I'll tell you, first.

I used to be the one with a key to his place. I used to be the one who might drop by for a night or three. He didn't make any promises, so I don't have any real gripe, but I've never understood why he suddenly dropped me like that!

Nick wanted to ask her if he dropped her before or after she went for the dirty-hair look. Serena very definitely didn't go for it. She was neat and spotless, and took great care to see she looked neat and spotless.

Well, now for the other people here. Who might have a reason to want him out of the way at the plant?

"Here? Nobody! He was as good a boss as anyone ever had! Nobody here would want him out of the way!

"I mean, he was the boss, and he always said the boss wasn't always right, but he was always the boss. When he gave an order, he expected it to be followed. He'd listen to all the arguments, but he expected the order to be followed, if he gave it. Nobody could argue about that. He was the first one to admit responsibility when he screwed anything up.

He didn't screw up much. He'd never blame someone else, if he did, so nobody had a reason to get mad at him.

What about the crooked preacher Miss Lovell mentioned? Do you know anything about that?

"I remember something a few months ago about a local preacher who was trying to get money through some kind of fraud, but that sort of thing's handled by the lawyers. The people from that stupid morality committee were connected with some church, probably. Those things usually are.

"That was about a rumor some girl started about Dale. She was in the pretrial intervention program. He caught her sneaking out when she was supposed to be working, so she claimed he made advances.

"She's sixteen, and the most innocent-looking little tramp you ever saw! Some people listened to her, even though she's in the program because she went into a courtroom and lied about a man in almost exactly the same way.

"Her name's Sarah Milkins.

"Dale found out she talked two other girls into backing up the phony morals charges. We found out which ones when that Manners bum came crashing in. Gloria Jean Manners and Martha Owens. There's a pamphlet on Dale's desk, in there. It makes all the charges in print, but doesn't name those girls. He was going to sue the bunch of them broke.

"He was also going to drop the rehab program because of it, and I don't blame him! He told that Littleton woman that. I have the tape of their conversation.

His lawyers are Forrest, Kline and Roberts. He called them yesterday, after that Manners guy broke the fish tank.

He asked a few more questions, listened to the tape of the Littleton conversation, then went into the office. There wasn't any pamphlet on Jordan's desk, but he could easily have taken it home.

Then why wasn't it at the house or in the car? Had he taken it home with him, confronted someone over it, and been killed, then the killer took the pamphlet? Why take it? It would surely be easy enough to get a copy – unless a name was underlined or circled on that one?

There wasn't anything important in the office, so Nick went out to the form plant area to talk with Mark Goodman and Jimmy Flynn. They explained about Manners tirade and gave Nick the home addresses of all the people who had been there. Some people named Owens and a woman named Littleton.

No one else from here was in the office during or just after the time the altercation took place?

No, except for Don and Bill, Jimmy replied. "They were going in as we brought Manners out.

That's Don Botts, the security manager, and Bill Vore, line foreman.

Nick talked with the two before he left. Vore was in charge of the rehab group and gave Nick a list of names of six boys and four girls, but only after he asked for it.

Botts told him they went to the main office for their regular meeting, but June had the lawyer on the phone and Dale gave his orders over the intercom. He said to drop the rehab plan, but Vore thought it was best to wait, under the circumstances. Dale would cool down. He wouldn't drop the program because only one of them did something. He would never punish one person for something someone else did.

Nick soon left and headed for the lawyers.

Then it was you he talked to, here? Nick asked Melvin Roberts, a few minutes later.

It was. Mr. Jordan was a personal friend as well as a client. I won't hold to confidentiality on most things, because I know Dale would never have insisted. He conducted business in a completely aboveboard way. What do you need?

Jordan was planning to sue some people who were printing and saying things about him?

"Oh, yes. Definitely purely scurrilous material. The Concerned Parents Morality League. It's a very few fanatics who were stirred up by accusations a spiteful girl started about Dale because she was angered at him for being strict about the rules. I'll give you a copy of the pamphlet they printed.

The girl who started it is in the rehabilitation program at the plant. She was placed there for making perjured statements at the trial of a man for molestation. I have no personal doubt most of the charges brought against that man were quite factual. Her testimony was shown to be perjured, thus the judge had no choice but to declare a mistrial. The girl is a pathological liar and a social misfit.

Sarah Milkins? Roberts nodded.

There was something about two of the other girls? Martha Owens and Gloria Jean Manners?

"Oh, yes. After Sarah started her story, Martha suddenly said the same kinds of things happened with her. She wasn't very consistent with her story, then Gloria started.

"We used the pamphlet for times and places. Dale was in Denver on two of the days the so-called evil events were purported to have taken place – facts we were saving mostly for court, should it come to that.

It would appear Sarah had some way to coerce the other two into bringing charges. They weren't as good at it. Dale was going to use threat of lawsuit to persuade the parents to make the girls come forth with the truth.

He wouldn't have actually sued?

Oh, certainly – if it was unavoidable. I would have insisted he pursue it until resolution. Otherwise, it would have followed him the rest of his life.

I see. What was the connection of a Mrs. Joy Littleton?

Roberts shook his head, sadly. "She's a foolish middle-aged woman with a teenage crush on Johnson, who used her to try to get at Dale. She registered that silly Concerned Parents Morality League thing through Johnson's church and immediately set off after Dale.

"You see, so far as we've yet learned, Sarah was exhibiting strange behavior that would indicate she was sexually active. She sneaked away from the plant, where she was required to work four hours a day, five days a week. Dale caught her at it and threatened to turn her in. She retaliated by claiming he was making advances to her.

The Right Reverend Martin Johnson couldn't let that golden opportunity pass, so he enticed the Littleton woman to start the league, then roped in the other parents.

Ah! Johnson's the preacher Jordan exposed for fraud?

Well, he didn't publicly expose him, which was most strongly against my advice, Roberts replied, sadly. Johnson was afraid he would, so set out to do anything he could to make Dale's word appear untrustworthy.

Lovely people.

Petty, mean, sick, malicious people. I hope you can tag whoever did this. I'm sure it's one or more of them. Johnson will try to stay above it, but it's bound to be from his instigation. I'll be in a good position to give the prosecutor evidence of background that'll guarantee he sits on the stand and admits to being exactly what he is!

"In which case, he'll be saved, brethren and cisterns! The lord will forgive!"

Ah! I won't! Roberts promised.

Yo Nick! Got your case solved, yet? Jim greeted when Nick took the pamphlet and tape of Jordan's meeting with Littleton into the station to tag and study before interviewing the girls and their parents.

I think so, but what I have so far is awfully weak. I don't have a hint of motive, yet, but maybe it's obvious from other things.

Marsha grinned and hid a giggle. Paddy, who was standing beside Marsha's desk, threw his arms in the air and slammed into his office. Nick drove him crazy when he spotted some little thing that didn't fit and solved the case to where he knew who a killer was, but wouldn't have a hope of proving it.

Paddy stormed back out, started to say something more, stopped, then accused, "You’ve spotted something that would be laughed out of any courtroom in this country, but you're gonna build a case on it and hang somebody, aren't you?

You're doing it again!

Oh, come on, Paddy! Marsha said. He does solve all his cases!

Okay. Write it down and seal it, this time! Paddy demanded. This time, no crapola! No finding out who it was and saying that's what you figured, all along!

Nick wrote a name and a few lines on a sheet of paper, put it in an envelope, sealed it, and handed it to Marsha, who looked at it and locked it in the petty cash drawer.

Raise and call, he said, then grinned and sat to listen to the Littleton tape again. Marsha took it to transcribe and he turned to the pamphlet.

The thing was a tirade about moral sin and the dear precious sweet children and the evils of sex and Satan's own disciple, Dale Jordan, who, under the guise of administering a rehabilitation program for the poor innocent sweet children in his company, Jordan Florida Plastics Specialties, who had unknowingly broken some obscure law, was forcing those pure innocents into becoming his personal sex slaves. The kinds and variety of acts the dear innocent children were being taught and forced to perform would disgust even the worst perverts on the streets.

When he finished the thing, he handed it to Marsha, who looked it over and filed it with the tape transcript, without comment.

That bad? Jim asked. He'd expected some sarcasm.

I agree on one thing! – that the worst pervert on the streets would be thoroughly disgusted, she said. By that pamphlet!

I think Roberts should pursue the slander and libel suit to clear Jordan's good name, Nick suggested. I think that would be the most advisable course, under the circumstances.

Can he do that? Jim asked.

Yes. They made the charges against the name of the company, which still exists, and whose business can be very severely damaged by such scurrilous charges and sick inventions. In other words, as Serena said, he's got them by the balls and was prepared to twist!

I've just got to meet that Serena person, Marsha said. Frog's been mooning all over the place!

She's a striking woman, Nick agreed, picking up the phone to call Roberts.

I'll certainly pursue it, but why? Roberts asked. Why would the police care?

Because it can smoke out Jordan’s killer. It can cause the mistake that lets me prove it.

"Well, Dale isn't here to stop me, so you may consider it as done. The subpoenas will be going out quite soon, now. Is there a special one I