The Twelfth Sleeper" is a fast paced detective novel as seen from the eyes of Detective Sergeant William Tanner of the Washington Metropolitan Police Department. As Commander of the Vehicular Homicide Unit, he is on the trail of a serial murderer who he believes is protected and financed by a politically connected corporation. Using his 19 years of investigative experience he tracks down the murderer only to find out that the U.S. Government has made a deal for the murderer's release based on his knowledge of a terrorist plot that could bring this Nation to its knees

THE TWELFTH SLEEPER

By William J. Logan, Jr.

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 William J. Logan, Jr.
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-8144-1

Chapter One

Damn, I hate midnights. I had just pulled into the parking lot across from 501 New York Avenue, Northwest DC to begin my week of midnights. Every six weeks I had to work one week of the 10:30 PM to 7:00 AM shift. "Damn," I said out loud as I walked across New York Avenue to the Traffic Enforcement Branch Headquarters. The body had a hard time adjusting to the shift. When I left my home it was about the time I would normally be getting ready for bed and during the tour of duty my body kept telling me to go to sleep. No wonder cops can't shoot straight.

Traffic Branch is a component of the Special Operations Division (SOD) of the Washington Metropolitan Police Department. The Division is also comprised of the Helicopter, Harbor, Special weapons (SWAT) and Intelligence Branches and is headquartered at 2301 L Street, NW. On midnights the Traffic Branch sergeant is the Watch Commander for all components in addition to SOD Headquarters. For the next week that was me; Sergeant William Tanner. Damn.

The Traffic Branch is housed in a two story brick building located on an island surrounded by 5th and 6th Streets and New York Avenue and L Streets, NW. On the left side of the entrance is a tree planted by Lady Bird Johnson with a small parking lot on the right for police vehicles. As I entered the station, the desk sergeant nodded and hit the button to allow me access to the interior. As I entered the short corridor to my front I glanced at the original painting over the water fountain. It depicted a very large eagle with extended talons about to pounce on a very small mouse. That was the fun part of the painting. The mouse was standing straight up, his very long tail extended to the side of the picture frame with his right arm extended skyward. The hand is in a fist but has its middle finger extended The caption read, 'Now that's confidence.' I never stopped chuckling when I saw it and by habit patted the mouse on its butt as I passed. As I turned right I was handed several items by the Desk Sergeant; the roll call board showing which officer's were expected to report for duty, the lookout sheet containing vehicles and subjects currently wanted by the police and the green bonded book of current administrative orders by the captain of the Traffic Branch. I then climbed two flights of stairs to the Vehicular Homicide office which I commanded and said "Hell-o" to the three to eleven crew composed of uniform and plainclothes investigators. "Better you than me," said Sergeant Miller the uniform investigators official who handled both units when I wasn't working. "Are you just setting me up for a fall or just joking," I said. "Hit and run pedestrian fatality at Wisconsin and Massachusetts Avenue, NW. Cruiser 412 and 410 are on the scene with Scout 77. I just came in to give you an overview of the accident and check off the other troops. Happened about 9 PM but the Cruisers should be clearing the scene about now. We're going to need the day crew to get additional pictures of the scene and run the report over to the Medical Examiner's Office." "OK," I said. "Tell me you caught the driver?" "No, we canvassed the area with the other accident cruisers but no luck. A witness heard something and saw a large dark car leaving the scene." "OK, I'll send the midnight cars into the area but you know after 15 minutes the striking vehicle is long gone. I'll also call the dispatcher and have him advise if any car matching that description is reported stolen. Damn, I hate midnights.

Chapter Two

At 10:30 PM I announced roll call in the basement of the building. Roll call consists of detectives, uniformed accident investigators, radar, alcohol enforcement officer's and weight inspectors. Administrative staff such as the Desk Sergeant usually do not attend roll calls, as his duties require that he relieve the prior shift Desk Sergeant so that the building entrance is staffed at all times.

The Branch used to be a full division but a disgruntled former police chief who was denied a position on the motorcycle unit when he was an officer gutted the Division, sold off 100 motorcycles, and sent the officers to the various Districts. Even today traffic gets screwed up during rush hour because there are no motorcycle officers to keep traffic moving. Hope he can sleep nights.

The District of Columbia is divided into seven Districts. Traffic cruisers have run of the city but are assigned a District to patrol. Cruisers 411 through 418 are accident investigators, the 420 series are radar and weight enforcement, the 430 series are alcohol enforcement and Cruiser 409 and 410 are detective cruisers. I'm 409.

As I read off the officer's last name and assigned Cruisers each officer answered. As I got to Cruiser 410 there was no answer. I again called out Detective Tom Wisner's name and heard a sharp "YO" come from the rest room. "I'm here Sarge" said Detective Wisner. I've got the shits." "Get your ass out here dummy," I reply. "Sorry Sarge, I'm doing God's work," said the detective. The roll call room erupted with laughter followed by Tom entering the roll call room with a long roll of toilet paper protruding from his pants. More laughter followed by a bow by Tom. "Tom, tonight is gun inspection. You're lucky a round didn't go off and hit you in the ass while you were on the pot. I can see the newspapers tomorrow; police officer wiped out while on pot," I said. "Gee Sarge, what poetry," Tom shot back as he took his seat. More laughter.

Tom, a 22 year veteran, is my best detective having started as a uniformed officer. He had studied at the Northwestern Traffic Institute and other schools along with being a certified ASE mechanic. I had similar training but didn't hold a candle to Tom and usually respected his opinion. He is, however, my problem child, always playing practical jokes. I know he is a semi-alcoholic and has been divorced three times but he never came to work with alcohol on his breath or late. He also was my first partner and I guess I gave him more latitude than the others.

After roll call I talked to the midnight Desk Sergeant and then climbed the two flights of stairs to my office for a debriefing from the three to eleven investigators about the fatal accident. They would be working late as their responsibility was to complete the accident reports for the Captain, Deputy Chief and the Medical Examiner. The day crew would deliver the reports. Detective John Spelling went over the case and expressed reservation about the cause. "The pedestrian was found laying on Massachusetts Avenue in the westbound right lane about 70 feet from Wisconsin Avenue, NW. There were tire marks but the beginning of the marks showed they were acceleration, you know, dark and curved and not ragged. The body did not show the expected impact injuries. I mean no broken ankles. The ankle which has the weight of the body usually is broken when struck by a vehicle. If I were to hazard a guess at this point, I would say that the pedestrian was lying in the roadway and run over. There was grease on her skirt and blouse and her face showed contact with an object that was not the roadway. Cruiser 412 took the film to Police Headquarters with a rush on it. I picked up the clothing from the Medical Examiner's Office and packaged it for the FBI lab in the morning. I had also interviewed the witness and he was asked to come to the police station in this morning for a full statement as-well-as Scout 77 who has court this morning so we won't need to wait until tomorrow night. We canvassed the area with no luck and no one was home at the pedestrian's address." "OK, we'll do what we can tonight and turn it over to the day crew."

I asked the midnight crew to canvass the accident area for about an hour but to stay in service. After an hour they were to go to their assigned Districts. I also called the dispatcher to advise them that they may receive calls for service from all Traffic cruiser's out of the Second District area for about an hour and then the Cruiser's would automatically return to their assigned areas for the rest of their tour of duty. This was important as any calls for service for traffic accident's by the various Districts would include notice that the Traffic cruisers were coming from a longer distance than normal and that the Scout cars would be expected to remain on the scene of accidents for longer periods.

As I settled in to complete paperwork before joining Tom for a trip to the accident scene and the morgue, I heard the midnight crew opening and slamming their Cruiser's hood and trunk as they checked the oil and supplies in the trunk. As each officer entered their cars they also turned on the emergency equipment. The place lit up like a Christmas tree and then came the siren check. I swear no one in the surrounding houses ever went to sleep before 11:00 PM. The cruisers would then make the usual stop at the chili pub on Ninth Street for late dinner. The chili was a concoction of noodles, day old chili, topped with a whole onion and parmesan cheese. This guaranteed that they would not be nodding off at 2:00 AM. Maybe that's why the Cruisers on midnight are one man units.

I called the other SOD components and verified that they were staffed and had Cruiser 411 drop off the roll call sheet for the dispatchers. Sometime during the shift I would have to visit each Branch but right now the Morgue was my first stop. Tom and I both took separate cars and he followed me through the Third Street Tunnel onto the Southwest Freeway to the grounds of the old D.C. General Hospital. The Morgue is across from the D.C. Jail. It is a squat red brick building and I parked behind it. As I entered, I was met by Joe who is the midnight custodian. As usual, he is watching television and eating. Joe always had a sandwich or something in his mouth even on the hottest days with a rotting body in the back of his white van. I guess he has a cast iron stomach or no ability to smell. "Hi guys, he said. I guess you want to see the woman from Massachusetts Avenue?" "Yup", I said and we was led down the stairs to the hallway near the dissection room. There on a gurney is a form covered by a white sheet. Joe pulled the sheet away revealing a black woman about 30-35 years old and about 155 pounds. Her hair is black and shows traces that it had recently been combed. The face and nose is lacerated as well as the breast and legs. Rolling the body over, Tom and I observed that there is no laceration but there are injuries consistent with the body being lifted and forced downward. Again, rolling the body onto her back, we also observed grease on the face, nose and right leg. Tom took samples for examination by the FBI. I also note in my log book that she has small gold colored studs in her ears. This is important not only for identification, but also records that studs are present on the body when received at the morgue. We had had problems in the past when family members accused the District of valuables missing after the body had been transported or released.

Tom was the first to speak. "Sarge, I think that John is right. The body clearly shows that she was in a prone position when struck by the hit and run vehicle. I think the autopsy report will give us more information as to the injuries and whether drugs or alcohol are related to our investigation but for now I think I'll go to the accident scene and canvass the area." "OK, I need to make my rounds to the other police units. Give me a call if you find something. I'll be on the radio." I then left with my first stop being Special Weapons which is a block away.

Chapter Three

"Cruiser and 410, a 10-50F, pedestrian struck hit and run, 2800 block of "C" Street S.E; ambulance responding, Scout 55 on the scene," advised the dispatcher. "Cruiser 416 is 10-99". "Cruiser 410 responding," came the reply. "Time is 0140 hours," advised the dispatcher. "Cruiser 409 is also responding. Have Cruiser 411 also respond but keep him in service. Have all units respond Code One," I said. "Cruiser 409 what is your badge number," asked the dispatcher. "Badge S-318," I responded. "All units, Code One," voiced the dispatcher. (Code One assignments were for the use of lights and sirens but had to be authorized by an official.) I left my office and took the Third Street Tunnel to the Southwest Freeway across the 11th Street Bridge to Howard Road and onto the Suitland Parkway to "C" Street, SE. I parked my car about a block away from the police emergency lights. After alighting from the car, I briefly leaned against the left front fender and observed the scene. This is important to see who in the crowd is talking the most which usually signified a witness. I then walked up to the scene.

In the middle of the street is a black man dressed only in a white tee shirt and dark pants; no shoes. Tom walks over and gives me a brief run down on what he observed when he first arrived. I pointed out the talkative pedestrian and asked him to interview him. Tom was good. He walked up to the crowd and I heard him state, "OK, who was the first to see the accident?" I had to smile as I had taught him that trick. Never ask who saw the accident as no one in S.E. Washington would be caught dead volunteering information to the police. However, when asked who saw the accident first there was that human desire to be first. As I expected, the talkative one stepped forward.

I walked over to the body after first establishing that Cruiser 416 had cordoned off the area and that lights had been set up so that the area could be searched. Cruiser 411 was already handling that task. I smiled as I saw that years of training were paying off.

Each officer knew what his or her job was at accident scenes and put that training into practice.

The ambulance crew had taken a sheet from the ambulance to cover the body but I waived them off so I could get a good look at the body. The body was of a young black male who looked about 20. His face had some flesh left. I also noted that the torso, arms, legs and feet were black and by past accidents I knew this was caused by the body being dragged along the roadway resulting in burn due to friction. No blood was discernable on the roadway. The body also had a black belt that had silver studs which were worn down to the leather. Tom returned from interviewing the pedestrian and I pointed to the body. "You know Tom; this is more than an accident. This person was tortured. I'd say someone wanted to leave a message."

I picked up my radio and requested the dispatcher have a homicide Cruiser respond and got a reply that Cruiser 333 was responding from Headquarters. He arrived 25 minutes later. "What is so important that the glorious Vehicular Homicide Unit would take me away from the real business of death?" said Detective Ramon Gutierrez with a smile. Returning the smile I responded, "Thought I would get you off your fat ass for once". We both laughed and shook hands. Detective Gutierrez and I had worked together on other cases and he had been a guest at my house.

I took him over to the body which he examined with clinical eyes. "Nice job. Was he dragged under a vehicle?". " Look again at his wrists," I said. "Ligature marks. The man was tied when he was dragged." "Son of a bitch," said Ramon. . "Looks like a homicide case and not an accident". "There are no drag marks within 100 yards of the body and a witness says a dark car stopped and then left the scene in a hurry. The body was dumped Ramon." "I guess you're off the hook William. I'll call Mobile Crime. Have your people drop by Homicide for statements," said Ramon. "Cruiser 409," I said into the mike. 409 was repeated by the dispatcher. "409 is 10-8 (in service). Mark as a homicide under the same report numbers and show Cruiser 333 as reporting officer. Hold Cruisers 410,411 and 417 at homicide for statements." "Cruiser 409 in service. Cruisers 410, 411 and 417 held at homicide. 0347 hours," said the dispatcher

Chapter Four

The midnight tour ended at 7:00 AM and I finally had time to talk to Detective James Keltan, the day detective. Like the other detectives, James had risen through uniform investigator, plainclothes and now detective. Although on the force for nine years and the rookie of the unit, he had performed well since his promotion last year. He had attended Northwestern University Traffic Institute and had written a paper on determining speed after a crash by using residue from the speedometers needle. It was even published in police magazines. Because of this he was referred to as 'The Head' by his fellow detectives.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from THE TWELFTH SLEEPERby William J. Logan, Jr. Copyright © 2010 by William J. Logan, Jr.. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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