Good Morning Ted and Jody:
Wednesday improved considerably around dinner time. While it took two of us in the kitchen (my mostly dodging the cane) we managed to make Coney Island sauce, al la Flint, Michigan (without the lead in the water). Nancy says there are differences in Coney Island sauces that are far from subtle. She swears the recipe that she uses comes from the Original Cony Island in Flint Michigan. It could be, but I suspect the whole concept started elsewhere. However, my shins cannot take a protracted discussion (OK, argument) with an aluminum cane. Below is a photo of the recipe. If you can’t read it let me know and I will type it out in a word file for you. Needless to say, wherever the recipe came from it was tasty. We cut the recipe in half and still ended up with close to a quart of leftovers. Nancy says it freezes well. That well may be, but how does it thaw? I suspect lunch today and perhaps tomorrow.
The pharmacist never called back. I still have that hanging over my head—to be shown for the idiot that the pharmacist thinks I am. My God but the truth hurts.
We got a newsletter from the CMU Library yesterday. I see that Tom Moore is retiring. I was on the library committee when he arrived and replaced Jack Weatherford. I always thought CMU had one of the better libraries I used. Tom made it much better and more and more usable. Then too, I liked him as he was approachable and had a memory for faculty names and interests (students too, I suspect).
I was reluctant to get out of bed this morning. It has been that way for some time now. However, as is my custom, I opened the door and checked out the sky. I then whipped out my cell phone and took a batch of images of what I saw with the intent of making a panorama out of them. I don’t normally shoot form the front porch, but didn’t hesitate this morning. Then I came in the house and put on warm clothes and went out in search of a more photograph-able location to capture what I could of the light show this morning. It was worth it.
My letter writing was interrupted by the pharmacist. She confirmed I am an idiot. (I guess bedside manners are not required of mail order pharmacists over the phone.)
I am attaching episode 22 in the Amanda Saga (and I still do need a better title).
Warmest regards, Ed
022 Detective Philipson meets Special Agent Anderson Fleishman
Fiction in 991 words by T. Edward Westen, 2016
Detective Batan entered the squad room with two cups of coffee. He handed one to Detective Philipson and pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket. “Judge Phillips signed off on Belemany’s law offices. I have two uniforms ready to go after they testify in a B&E case this afternoon.”
“Two uniforms got a B&E in the act for real?” Asked Detective Philipson.
“Funniest thing, they were on the overnight and pulled in to have a smoke behind the big box electronics place over on Swarthmore Avenue.” Said Detective Batan. “They noticed a truck backed up at the dock and running, so they walked over, still smoking, and watched a fellow come out of the store with a hand cart loaded with stuff. While the perp was stacking stuff in the semi-trailer they jumped up on the dock and detained him in the semi-trailer. Eventually the guy’s accomplice came out looking for him and they arrested him as well. Then they called for backup.”
“Didn’t the perps plead out?” Asked Detective Philipson.
“Nope, so the two uniforms have a court day. Since they can’t do a regular patrol, they will assist us in our search after court.” Replied Detective Batan.
“That looks a bit thicker.” Said, Detective Philipson pointing to the case book on Detecrive Batan’s desk.
Detective Batan, pulled out the center drawer of his desk and pointed to the thumb drive in the corner. “It would be a lot thicker if we printed that all out.”
Detective Philipson said, “I thought the SEC and Attorney General got all of that stuff.”
Detective Batan nodded, “They did, they even wiped the autopsy off the computer” the detective said, pointing to the thumb drive. “They had the Judge’s binder for one day and then all hell broke loose. They wanted to know who had seen this and that and I explained only you and me. And, we don’t know what we have, er, had.”
Detective Philipson looked amused “You still think the motive for the judge attempting to kill Gunderson is in there; I mean the stuff they took?”
“Yes.” Replied Detective Batan. “Unless there is something in the Judge’s 32nd Street law office, that binder and the Judge’s finances that White Collar still has, are the best leads we have. The way I figure it, Judge Belemany was up to something pretty bad for him to want to kill Ms. Gunderson to keep it quiet. There is a crime there someplace other than his death.”
“I’m surprised, the SEC or the Attorney General’s Office let us keep the financials.” Said, Detective Philipson.
“Hump, those guys have the bank and broker accounts, they don’t need the judge’s accounting.” Replied Detective Batan looking at his wrist watch. “Those uniforms should be done soon. You get the car and I’ll check with the DA’s liaison to see about timing.”
Detective Philipson nodded, picked up his over coat and headed for the stairs. ‘I really do need the exercise since I got the gold shield. I walk a lot less than when I was on patrol.’ He pinched his love handle on the right side as he descended to the parking lot at ground level. When he stepped out of the door, a man approached him.
“Detective Philipson. Could I have a word.” Said the man.
“Sure, what’s up?” Asked Detecrive Philipson.
The man handed Detective Philipson a thick 10 X 13 brown manilla envelope and said, “I am Special Agent Andrew Fleishman.” With that he stuck out his hand.
Detective Philipson shook the proffered hand and said, “And what I can I do for the Bureau?”
Agent Fleishman pointed to the envelope he had just handed Detective Philipson. You and your partner take a look at that when you have a spare minute. I’ll come talk to you about it tomorrow afternoon. Say 4:30 in Interrogation room #4.” With that Agent Fleishman entered the door Detective Philipson had just exited.
When Detective Fleishman stuck his head back in the door, no one was there. Special Agent Anderson Fleishman must have taken the ground floor door or basement door off the stairwell. ‘No matter. We’ll find out tomorrow what this is all about.’
Detective Philipson shut the door and headed to the car he and Detective Batan were assigned. He opened the driver’s door of the unmarked vehicle, tossed the manila envelop on the passenger seat and got in.
Driving to the stairwell door, he arrived just as Detective Batan opened it.
“Good timing.” Said Detective Batan. “What’s this?” He asked holding up the manila envelope.
Detective Philipson told him “A bureau guy, Fleishman or something like that, said we should look at this and he would meet us in Interrogation Room #4 tomorrow at 4:30 to talk about it.”
Detective Batan said, “It’s not sealed.” He opened it and pulled out the case book. ”Stop the car.”
Detective Batan jerked the door open, sprinted through the parking lot, clutching the envelope and the case book and jerked open the door to the stairway and disappeared inside.
Detective Philipson found place to park the unmarked car and ran after his partner. He caught up only when he got to the squad room. There on the desk was the case book. But, Detective Philipson could see the book his partner held was identical, at least on the outside.
The two detectives sat down and went through the two books, page by page. Yes, they are identical. They sat quietly for a time until Detective Philipson said, “Maybe we should lockup at least one of them.”
Detective Batan said, “One, hell, both in different places.”
Then Detective Batan started photographing each page in the case book with his smart phone. “Here” he said to his partner, handing him roughly the second half of the case book. “Make yourself useful and we might get to the Judge’s 32nd Street law offices by the time the uniforms do.”