Thoughts from Mark "Hat" Rackley

I’m Lieutenant Deviled Yeggs.  I work homicide in the big city of Tracy.  Working for me are my old partners: Detective Sgt. Jim Wednesday and Detective Poached Yeggs, my nephew who is slowly becoming a good detective, but in this case, he screwed up.

This report is a little late getting out.  Spring Break was two weeks ago.  Glyce and I had plans to not have the children at home, except Gigi (Gloria Grace, G. G.).  Then rain knocked out the remaining softball tournament at the state capitol.  Suddenly, I had Sophie in my office for that Friday.

At the morning meeting, Jim asked, “Why didn’t you and Sophie take the day off?  You know, enjoy your vacation, just you two together.”

I groaned, “I might have done that except I got a call from the Commissioner late last night that a case on the D.A.’s desk was not done according to protocol.  After a half hour of the Commissioner trying to rip my ear off through the phone, I decided my vacation was over.”

Then Poached added, “And I hear that Shorty got her wings clipped at Lily the Pink.”

Sophie retorted, “Po, you are the one that did not follow protocol!  I got a top secret investigative contract at Lily the Pink.  You can put your wing clippings where the sun don’t shine!”

I snapped, “You two are worse than two toddlers trying to out shout the other saying ‘It’s MINE!’  From now on Poached, you will refer to my daughter as Sophie or Sophia.  No made up nickname to get her to quit calling you ‘Po’!  Sophie, do not call him ‘Po’ here or in family gatherings.  I do not care if Callie started it, and everyone is joining in.  In anything related to the police, he is Detective Poached.  BOTH OF YOU!!!!  Do you understand?”

They both said, “Yes, sir.”  Neither was happy about it though.

The intercom buzzed with Gisele’s voice, “I heard that clearly from my office.  If there is trouble, I can call the police.  Oh, oops!  You are the police.  Do I have to call him Detective Poached also?”

I pressed the button, “It would help.”

Gisele grumbled, “Rats, and I had just ordered ‘You will be missed, Po’ T-shirts.”

Poached straightened, “Woah!  What protocol did I miss?  And can I be fired for one infraction?”

I growled, “I doubt it.  I think Gisele was simply trying to get your attention.  Obviously, Captain Hart got the same lecture from the Commissioner.  Poached, what is the rule regarding celebrities?”

Poached looked puzzled.  Sophie asked if she could recite it.  I said she could give Poached a summary if she did so out of respect and wanting to help a fellow officer.

Sophie said, “Anytime a celebrity is involved in a crime, as the victim, the suspect, or a witness, there must be a shadow investigation.  This investigation must be independent to ensure the primary detective on the case came to the proper conclusions and did not screw something up along the way.  Is that summary close, Daddy?”

I nodded, ‘What case did you get this week and you have already sent it to the D.A.?”

Poached said, “Oh, wait a minute.  Marlene Summers was a celebrity singer and jingle singing star fifteen years ago.  Does that still count for now?!”

I grit my teeth as I asked, “And what was the suspect’s confessed motive?”

Poached looked at the floor, “He said her last recorded jingle, for an investment firm in town, convinced him he should put everything in with the company.  They lost all his money, and he was ruined.  He spent the last ten years working up the nerve to confront her.  With e-mail, he kept writing her.  Marlene, to her credit still replied to every e-mail.  She was kind of innocent, she even replied to one e-mail that he could come over and she would try to help him out.  She opened the door to her killer a few weeks later.”

I looked at Jim.  He should have advised Poached on the celebrity issue, but Jim stared at the floor.

I turned back to Poached, “Okay, that sounds nice and sweet, and media friendly.  They are going to love crucifying you, Poached.  But start from the beginning.  You just gave me the end.”

Poached nodded, “I got the call on Sunday.  There was blood all over the kitchen.  The fish knife was missing from the set of knives on the chopping block.  He might have had no intention of killing her before he got there.  The knife was a weapon of opportunity.  There were far too many stab wounds to count accurately, but the M.E. got close, maybe the right number.  It had to be a crime of intense passion.  The strange thing is that there were two cups of chamomile tea next to the sink.  It started out as a conversation.”

Poached sighed, “Background: Marlene started pulling away from singing, both at jazz clubs, recording sessions, and the Jingle Belle thing.  That’s what she was called.  A sweet clear voice with great enunciation.  Perfect for jingles.  But she slowed down about fifteen years ago.  Her last jingle was for the investment firm.  The media said at the time that she wanted to be at home for her family, but the investment firm did some shady things, but with the contract written the way it was, she could say or do nothing about it.  As I dug up other things, her guilt feelings over that one jingle ate at her.  She was the voice of Billie’s canned foods, Chantae Soft Drinks, a car dealership, and a lot of little things.  No guilt feelings except that investment firm.  Her husband died about ten years ago and she never recorded again.  All her children have grown, and none of them live in Tracy.  None knew anything.”

Poached took a few breaths.  “The canvasing of neighbors was the usual haphazard collection of disconnected facts.  No one saw anything that Sunday morning.  Everyone claimed to have gone to church, but Marlene never did.  She grew up non-practicing Catholic, but I eventually found something.  One of the neighbors said she always left on Tuesday mornings.  She might come home empty handed, but she might come home with groceries or takeout from a big restaurant in the Latvian community.  In searching her room, I found a Bible Study guide in a drawer next to her bed along with a very worn Bible.”

A few more breaths.  “I did a deep dive into her browser history and e-mails.  That’s where I saw her reply to the good and bad e-mails. The only other repetitive e-mails are within the past year and a half with a non-denominational church.  As it turns out, she went to a non-denominational church in the Latvian community.  She did not attend Sunday worship, but she did attend a Tuesday Bible study.  I interviewed those people on Tuesday.  They talked about how she had become a Christian there in the Bible study.  She needed to unload the guilt over the investment jingle.  But overall, she was sweet, kind, and helpful to all her Bible study partners.  One lady said that she had talked in private about one particular person who was harmed by the investment firm.  She wanted to help the guy.  All other negative e-mails terminated when they learned she felt terrible about what had happened, but this guy continued the tirade.  That helped me refocus with her e-mail conversations.”

Poached looked around, I supposed to see if anyone was sleeping.  “The guy used a fake name.  The e-mail server provided little information, but I did get the IP address and I learned that Leonard Scudsny lived at the address identified by the IP address.  At that point, Jim was in the office.  As we approached the house, Leonard was taking a bag of trash to the trash can on the street.  He dropped the bag into the can and ran back into the house.  He had left the lid open.  We looked at the bag and a knife had torn through the bag.  It matched the set found at the Summers’ home, the missing fish knife.  We bagged the evidence and then knocked on the door.  At first, he denied everything.  He tried to pretend that he had no idea how the knife got into the trash bag, but then he admitted e-mailing Marlene Summers and going to her house.”

Poached continued, “We tag-teamed the interrogation and I got him to crack.  He gave me everything.  Marlene Summers tried to give him money to help with what he had lost.  He grabbed the fish knife and said that was not good enough.  Then Marlene did something that he never expected.  She stepped toward him and fell to her knees.  She said that her conscience was clear.  God had forgiven her, but if Leonard could not get over his life being ruined, she would offer her life in return.  He became so angry that he just started slashing.  But ever since he took her life, he could not understand how she freely gave up her own life, no struggle, no fight.  I got a signed confession.  I also told the chaplain at the jail what had happened, and he has been trying to explain things to Leonard.  To be honest, it bothers me.”  He shook his head. “Anyway, the D.A. wanted murder in the first, but I doubt if that is going to stick.  He grabbed a weapon of opportunity.  There was no plan to kill her.  We might have a bit of insanity plea here.  I think they’ll settle on a lesser charge.”

I pressed a button on the intercom system.  “Did you get all that Lt. Tagliolini?”

Poached groaned, “Tony has been assigned as my shadow?”

Tony said over the box.  “No, you finished the case.  It looks pretty tight.  I want you to show me through the e-mails before I sign off.  I have already looked at the evidence.  And you forgot to tell your lieutenant that the victim’s blood was found in the hilt of the knife.  Our mad slasher was not careful when he cleaned the knife.  This is airtight, if the e-mail conversations are as you stated, all negatives without extended conversation except this one.  No thought of undue tunnel vision if that was the case.  I’ll be at your desk in about thirty minutes.  You can show me the e-mails and then we can get the Commissioner off our collective backs.”

Poached left the room to get the file organized for Lt. Tagliolini to review, but Jim stayed at my insistence.

I asked, ‘This was not like you, Jim.  What went on early this week?”

Jim put his head in his hands and started to sob.  Sophie went around and patted him on the back.

Jim said, “Dev, forgive me, but Tuesday had a miscarriage Sunday.  We lost Wednesday Wednesday.”  Sophie leaned down and put her arms around Jim’s shoulders.

I shrugged, “Jim, I am so sorry.  But I did not know she was pregnant.  You have four children already.  Your three adoptions, but then you have Holiday Wednesday, a biological son.  Why the need for secrecy and trying for a fifth child?”

Jim looked at me.  “Tuesday loves Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, but with the recent weddings, she wanted me to have someone that I could walk down the aisle that looked like me or her.”

I suggested, “Don’t say it like that if this ever comes up with Saturday.  She is a darling little girl.  She might not understand that she has the wrong skin tone.”

Jim nodded, “Saturday is Daddy’s little girl.  She and Friday are in kindergarten, and she loves going to school.  She is very social, and the teacher and the other students love her.  None of them can believe she and Friday are twins.”

I suggested, “Go home.  Spend time with Tuesday and the children.  Take as much time as you need.  You can try again next year.  Pink Lady is doing fine, and she is a lot older.  Glyce had Gigi a little older than Tuesday is now.”

Jim looked me in the eye.  “Tuesday has just given up.  She does not want to talk about trying again.  She doesn’t want to talk about going back to work either.  I did not just lose a daughter in the womb; I lost a big piece of my wife.”  The tears again started to flow.

Sophie gave Jim a big hug, “Uncle Jim, time can heal that too.  Just pray every day.  Both of you, together.  God will give you the answers you need.”

Jim pulled away from Sophie’s grasp and thanked her.  He then staggered out the door.

Sophie ran around the desk to give me a hug.

I said, “Sophie, you said the right thing to Jim, and the hugs helped.  He and Tuesday will see this through, and I would not be surprised to see her pregnant next year.  Now, since you have adopted the precinct as family, go tell your purple-haired Aunt Gisele what happened at the Wednesday’s home, and she can get the paperwork started.  Jim gets leave until Jim feels like returning.  Okay?”

Gisele said over the intercom box, “Already started the paperwork, but a visit from my pretend niece is always welcome.”

I grumbled, “How do I mute this stupid thing?”

Gisele laughed, “That’s on my end.  You just think you run homicide.  I listen in whenever I feel like it.  And when the commissioner is angry at my personal husband and bundle of love and with my favorite lieutenant, okay, for now you are the only lieutenant in this precinct…  Anyway, when it was a procedural mistake, I took responsibility.  You guys get so focused, you might forget an administrative detail, but administrative details are my job.  Got it, lieutenant?”

I snickered, “I learned when I was a patrol officer to always reply with ‘Yes, ma’am’.”

Credits

Marlene Summers is a mash of Marlene ver Planck and Joanie Sommers.  Both will be remembered for their jingle singing, but they were both jazz singers.  While Marlene was nicknamed the Jingle Girl in the fifties and sixties, Joanie was the “voice of the sixties,” even having an LP album by that title.  Of the many jingles that Marlene sang, the most memorable one was trademarked, regarding how *** *** Good, that’s what Campbell’s Soups are …  Sorry, I do not know what part is trademarked.  Joanie Sommers was the singer for the decade of the 60s for a soft drink company.  First, the soft drink was for those who thought “young”, but then it became an entire “generation.”  And there are probably some trademarks in there also.

The life pattern of Marlene Summers falls in line with that of Joanie Sommers to a point.  In the early 70s, she stepped away from public life to take care of family.  Her husband died in 1972.  Probably her children were old enough for her to reenter public life on a limited basis in the 80s and 90s.

The rest of the companies listed are made up, but maybe a little play on words.