Cold Case 8-12: No Laughing Matter

[valrush]

COLD CASE: NO LAUGHING MATTER

Scotty’s future hangs in the balance as he looks for a way to free a man who has been convicted of arson. (Music from Adele will be featured during this episode.

PREVIOUSLY ON COLD CASE:

The sidewalk was surprisingly clear in front of Citizens Bank as Scotty Valens paced back and forth in front of the building. It was just as well as far as he was concerned. Anybody who did pass by made him nervous. He would inevitably begin wondering if this could be the person trying to destroy him; he just wanted this meeting to be over with.

A white male with dark hair in black trousers and a white shirt approached him. “You’re Valens?”

“Yeah, who the hell are you?” asked Scotty.

“So, now you want to get down to business? Where were you for the last ten messages I sent you months ago?” the man asked. “But since time is of the essence I will make this short. My name is Jared Reese; I’m a guard at the prison in Graterford. I talked to your friend Hector after Mr. Mota was found dead in the prison shower. He told me an interesting story about how this cop came to see him and told him how Mr. Mota was ratting out inmates to the guards; a cop by the name of Scotty Valens.”

“What do you want, jackass?” asked Scotty.

“That’s a good question. I’ve long agonized over what to do with this information. I could go to Internal Affairs and have them take your badge, I could try going to the press and embarrass you publicly, or I could use it to squeeze one small favor out of you,” insisted Mr. Reese.

“So, I’m going back to my original question. What do you want jackass?” replied Scotty.

“I have a brother, Frank; he used to own this bar/comedy club in Center City called ‘The Splitting Sides’. It burned down about two years ago, and the first responders on the scene said the place reeked of kerosene. Long story short, my brother is doing 15 years in the state prison in Chester for arson,” Jared explained.

Scotty took a step back. “The maximum for arson is ten years; there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“There was a guy in the building by the name of Albert Dent. He was one of the participants in an open mic night contest. He died in the fire, so the DA slapped a manslaughter charge on top of it. There was a trial, but you know juries. Everybody blames the business owner when it’s arson,” Jared explained.

“So that’s it, you want me to reopen your brother’s case. What makes you so sure that your brother is innocent?” Scotty asked.

“He was never in trouble before, and he always bragged about how successful the bar was. Why would he need to burn down his own place if it was doing well?” asked Jared.

“I don’t know, maybe your brother hasn’t always been honest with you,” Scotty answered.

“Detective, I’ll make this simple. My brother says he is innocent, and I believe him. You see he has a daughter who is getting married in two weeks, and he wants to walk her down that aisle. So, in two weeks time, either Frank is out of prison, or you’re out of a job,” insisted Jared. “Next time, answer the phone the first time someone calls you.” Jared calmly walked away leaving Scotty to ponder those words.

“Do you want your file back? Talk to me!” Lilly insisted.

Scotty shook his head. “Lady, you’ve been an interrogator for far too long. Do you remember when my mother was mugged last year?”

Lilly sat at Scotty’s desk while Scotty paced across the floor. “So that’s it. This guard found out what I did, and he wants his brother back. I have ten days to figure out how to get this guy out of prison, or I might lose my badge.”

Lilly just kept reading the file. “You were on with the fire marshal earlier, weren’t you? The fireman’s report says that the side exit was obstructed. It could mean that someone meant to trap him inside; that would mean the motive was more personal than just insurance fraud.”

“Lilly, what are you doing?” Scotty asked.

“What about this Ken Prewitt? Mr. Reese said that he actually threatened to burn the place down, but they couldn’t make anything stick for him,” insisted Lilly.

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell anyone about this. I was trying to contain the damage!” insisted Scotty.

“You’re too invested in this to think clearly on your own! Let me handle this! Consider it payback for when you covered for me in the Morris Kitchner situation last year!” insisted Lilly.

“This is hardly the same thing! You didn’t kill Morris Kitchner; you were innocent! I’m not!” Scotty replied.

“We’re partners! Let me help you here!” Lilly yelled.

“Why do you want to help me? I just told you that I set a guy up to take a beating, he got killed, someone found out about it, and now that you know, your ass is on the line too! Why do you insist on burying yourself next to me?” Scotty demanded.

Lilly couldn’t speak. She felt like her legs were about to give out, but somehow she was moving. All reason had escaped her. She was running on pure instinct when she wrapped herself around Scotty and kissed him.

Scotty could barely hold his balance. He stumbled backwards nearly hitting the wall. “Wait … Lilly, … what are … are we really doing this?”

“Don’t speak, Scotty,” said Lilly as she went in again.

“Five minutes ago you were threatening me,” insisted Scotty.

“You’ve never heard of foreplay before?” Lilly asked as she kicked open the door to Scotty’s bedroom.

[valrush]

1

The following story is fictional and

does not depict any actual person or event

Adele: “Painting Pictures”
soundcloud.com/jolin_tanmin/adele-painting-pictures
 
March 6, 2009
 
Frank Reese stood on the stage about to address his crowd of customers. He wore jeans, a white button-down shirt, and a blue apron that said ‘Splitting Sides Bar and Comedy Club’ in red letters printed around a mug of beer. He stood 5 ft. 8 in and had brown hair. “Okay, it looks like we got a good crowd for this thing! My name is Frank Reese, and I am the proud owner of this termite-infested dive! … Welcome to our open mic night. For those of you who haven’t been here before; this is something we do twice a year to give amateur comics in the area a chance to shine. We are one of the few bars that still offer live entertainment, so to hell with those other losers. … But you didn’t come here to listen to me. Trust me, somewhere around the time of my wedding day I completely lost my sense of humor. … So let’s get started with our first contestant, Philadelphia’s very own Mr. Albert Dent!”

Dent was a heavier man than Reese. The audience applauded as he stepped up to the microphone. He had deep black hair and wore jeans and a t-shirt with the words ‘NO FEAR!’ written in bold, red letters. “Oh, don’t believe it people; I’m actually about to piss myself right now. … This was very much my nightmare to get called up here first. I knew I should have blazed one up before this started. … … But I was afraid to do that because you never know what’s coming. Maybe this place has a comic drug screening committee, or maybe TMZ might be watching. Hell, just look what those paparazzi bastards did to Phelps! … … But that still amazes me! We live in a day and age of mass shootings every week, every celebrity under the sun having a sex tape on the internet, and yet a young guy smoking weed still gets people upset! Don’t you think our priorities are a little out of synch! … I’m not saying that Phelps is above the law; he should have to do his time like the rest of us. But the thorn in my ass with this is that some people are saying they should take his medals away from him. … Exactly, they’re the ones who need to mellow out. First off, I don’t think he smoked during the Olympics or we would have heard about it sooner. Secondly, let’s say he did. How the hell is that going to help him? … … That’s when I start questioning the qualifications of those drug screening people! Forget medical school; have any of them been to high school! Because I did, and everyone in my school knew who the stoner kid was! He was this kid who sat two rows behind me in my 10th grade History class, and every so often he would come to class looking like this!” Albert put the back of his right hand in front of his face. “’Whoa. … Check out my hand. … There’s something wrong with my hand. It’s on backwards. … … My hand, it’s on backwards.’.” Albert turned his hand around. “’Never mind. … I fixed it.’ At which point he would then begin trying to eat his book! … … … That’s my whole point! Unless it’s a pie-eating contest; marijuana isn’t exactly a performance enhancer! … … One of the races he did was the 200m freestyle; that’s four laps across the pool. He did this race in 1 min 42 sec, got a gold medal and a new world record! If that was him on pot, I don’t think I want to face him sober! They should have had him take a second hit just to make it fair! … … …,” A red light flashed in front of him from the other side of the bar. “And I can see from that flashing red light that my time is up! Good night everyone!”

[valrush]

Adele: “Rolling In the Deep”

 
“By the time my company got there the place was already a wall of orange. We arrived on the scene to find two fire trucks with sirens blaring and fifteen guys in full gear spraying down the front of the building. I radioed in on arrival, ‘This is Danny Achen, chief of Ladder Company 18! We’ve just arrived on scene! Where do you need us?’

“’Position your company at the east side of the building near the alley way! Hose it down quickly! We’ve got to keep this thing from spreading, and keep your gas masks on! This place smells like it was dipped in oil!’ I overheard.

“My truck was almost in position when I saw a figure inside faintly through all the smoke. Then we neared the alley, and I saw it. The fire had not yet spread to that side of the building, but somebody had placed two heavy garbage cans directly in front of the emergency exit. ‘What the hell? Dyson and Baines, move that obstruction! I think there’s somebody still in there!’ I shouted. Two of my men jumped from the rear of the truck and began moving the garbage cans out of the way.”

[valrush]

“But by the time they actually made it inside it was too late. Dent was already dead,” explained Mr. Achen. “There you have it, detectives. My story has not changed. That was what I said to the fire marshal, that’s what I said to the cops, that’s what I said in court, and that’s what I’m saying now. Our best point of entry was obstructed; we could not access the building in time.”

“One more question, Mr. Achen. Does the name Ken Prewitt ring any bells?” asked Detective Scotty Valens.

“Should it, because the only name I saw that night was Albert Dent’s on the charred remains of his driver’s license after they hauled his corpse out of there!” insisted Achen.

“Right. Thank you for your time, Mr. Achen,” added Detective Lilly Rush. It was still daylight as the pair walked away from Danny’s red brick home and entered their car. “His story has not changed; I guess that confirms what’s in the file.”

“The report said that the 911 call came in at around 1:15 A. M March 8, 2009. Isn’t that a little early for last call?” Scotty asked. “Yet the place was deserted. The only body found inside was Dent’s.”

“It’s early in the morning. Business was probably slowing down by this point,” insisted Rush.

“But there is still a customer, and if there is a customer, there should be a bartender. So where was he during this fire? He couldn’t have escaped with the fire exit blocked,” Scotty explained.

“It’s an interesting theory, but why would some anonymous bartender want Dent dead? And why resort to arson? There are a million blunt or sharp objects already in a bar,” Lilly replied. “Let’s head to Chester and pay a visit to Frank Reese. If nothing else, he can tell us about the questionable actions of his employees.”

[valrush]

2

There was no beard on the mug shot that Scotty held in his hand, but it was still Frank Reese seated on the opposite side of the thick, Plexiglas window. He and Scotty picked up the phone at the same time. “Mr. Reese, my name is Detective Scotty Valens, and this is my partner Lilly Rush. We’re the ones—“

“I know who you are. So, you’re the one my brother told me about,” Frank added.

“I’m the one your brother is blackmailing,” insisted Scotty.

“I really hate that word; it reeks of hypocrisy. You wouldn’t be in a position to be blackmailed if you hadn’t screwed up royally in the first place. So don’t act like you’re better than us, and just focus on getting me out of here,” Frank replied.

“That depends on us finding evidence that proves you innocent,” Lilly intervened.

“I am innocent! It’s like I told the cops two years ago; I was nowhere near the bar that night! Plus the bar was doing well; I didn’t need to resort to insurance fraud!” Frank responded.

“Well, that we might actually believe. Your emergency exit was blocked from the outside; Dent was trapped in the fire. That tells us that the motive was something a little more personal than money,” Scotty explained.

“Why was Albert alone in your bar that night?” asked Lilly.

“I don’t know. Maybe … Sam,” Frank answered.

“Sam?” asked Scotty.

“Sam Regan, he and Albert shared an apartment. He was also the bartender that night; it was him who told Dent about the contest. He’s also lucky because if I still had a bar, I probably would have fired his ass,” Frank explained.

“What for?” asked Scotty.

“A few months before the fire I was doing inventory and I noticed that we were coming up short a few cases of ‘Jose Cuervo’, When I brought it up to my employees Sam just seemed pretty evasive about the subject, but I couldn’t exactly prove anything,” insisted Frank.

“Maybe Albert could. He catches Sam stealing so Sam panics and figures he has to take care of him,” Scotty reasoned.

“But that just comes back to my question. There would have been a lot more convenient weapons available, and burning down the bar wouldn’t exactly secure his job. There has to be more to it than that,” insisted Lilly.

“It’s a flimsy theory, detective. I’d listen to your girl if you want to keep your badge,” Frank inserted.

Scotty rolled his eyes. “We’ll track him down. Meanwhile, what can you tell us about Ken Prewitt? You mentioned in your original statement that he said something about burning the bar down.”

“Yeah, with kerosene. That’s why I gave the cops his name when I was questioned,” insisted Frank.

“Who was he?” asked Lilly.

“He was one of the contestants that night and a bit of a sore loser. When it became clear to him that he bombed on stage, he threw a fit and threatened to burn the place down. But they said they had no evidence connecting him to the fire. I’ll bet you’ll be motivated to find evidence now, won’t you?” Frank explained.

“Did you ever see Prewitt at the bar again?” asked Lilly.

“I don’t know why he would have come back. He might have showed up to see the second night of the contest, but I can’t say for sure. Like I said, I was nowhere near the bar that night,” Frank replied.

“Where were you on the night of the fire?” asked Lilly.

“Throwing up most likely. It’s like I told the cops two years ago; I was home with the flu that night,” insisted Frank.

“Which they couldn’t exactly prove back then so you’ll forgive us if we check out the rest of your story,” insisted Scotty.

“Fine, but consider this. Factoring in the amount of time it takes to process the damn paperwork; I figure that you have less than a week to get me out of here in time for my daughter’s wedding. The clock is ticking, detectives,” insisted Frank. Scotty and Lilly hung up the phones and walked away.

[valrush]

Sam Regan’s apartment was small, but he seemed to make up for it with the furnishings. Scotty and Lilly observed this as they stepped on the heavy, deep brown, wood floor. The black, beaded leather sofa was surrounded by two white end tables and was placed directly in front of a giant flat screen television that was mounted on an off white wall. A green recliner sat off to the right of the sofa.

Sam, a thin dark-haired man in jeans and a white button-down shirt sat in the recliner. “Yeah, I was the bartender that night. What of it?”

“But you got out before the fire started,” asked Lilly.

“Yeah, lucky me. I had to empty the trash in the alley. The next I knew I turned around and the place was in flames,” Sam explained.

“Were you alone?” asked Scotty.

“By that late hour I was,” insisted Sam.

“So it was just you and your roommate, Albert Dent,” insisted Scotty. “Let me ask you something. Was it the house policy to store the garbage right in front of the only emergency exit?”

“What?” Sam responded.

“The engine company that responded to the fire noted that two garbage cans were blocking the emergency exit, and you just said you were emptying the trash when the fire started. So that means that either you saw who started the fire, or you started the fire,” insisted Lilly.

“We know about the thefts. You were rumored to have been pinching Jose Cuervo from the inventory. Is that why you did it, because he caught you stealing?” asked Scotty.

Sam looked up at the ceiling. “Fine, you busted me. Nobody was coming in at that point; it was just me and Albert. So I went home to the apartment, and I let Al close the bar down. We did it all of the time, and Jose Cuervo was his drink of choice,” Sam explained.

“So he was the one stealing, but you were the one with something to lose if he got caught,” Scotty added.

“So I burned down the bar for job security?” Sam responded. Scotty nodded in Lilly’s direction; even he had to admit it sounded weird coming from him. “He got free booze; I got off a little early. We both got something out of that arrangement. I had no beef with Al. You should be talking to some of the other comics he beat out that night.”

“You mean like Ken Prewitt?” asked Lilly.

“If you know about him, why the hell are you wasting time with me? Because that’s somebody that definitely had a beef with Al,” insisted Sam.

“We’re trying to confirm a story. What exactly did Mr. Prewitt do?” asked Lilly.

“He blamed Al for something that really wasn’t Al’s fault. ‘The Splitting Sides’ did this open mic night contest twice a year. Al had seen the contest a few times. He knew how it worked and the type of audience we usually got,” Sam explained.

“What kind of audience did you usually get?” asked Scotty.

“Rowdy, blue collar, and definitely not prudish. Let’s just say if they televised this thing, they’d probably end up censoring half of it,” Sam informed. “Anyway, Mr. Prewitt was not so prepared, and he finished dead last in the scoring.”

“Scoring?” asked Scotty.

“That’s how it worked. Nine comics did routines for 5-6 minutes apiece, and then at the end the audience would receive ballots where they would vote for their first, second, and third favorite comic. First place would score three points, second place two points, and third place one point. The top five scores moved on to the second night, and then they voted on a winner,” Sam explained.

“What kind of prize are we talking about here?” asked Scotty.

“$2,500,” Sam replied.

“For two nights? I’m in the wrong business,” insisted Scotty.

“That’s why we only did that contest twice a year,” Sam responded. “Anyway, between the bar and the tables, that place sat about 100 people. Mr. Prewitt didn’t even get double digits on the tallies.”

“And he didn’t take it well?” asked Scotty.

“Midway through his routine I think he figured that he was done, but no, he did not take it well,” insisted Sam. “I have to say I’ve seen a lot of comics bomb before, but he’s definitely the first one I ever saw explode…”

[valrush]

Adele: “Chasing Pavement”

 
“I believe we were four comics into this thing when Prewitt got called up. Mr. Reese made the introduction. ‘Next up we have a man originally from Narberth, PA. Not really sure if that place is known for comedy, but what the hell do I know? Let’s give it up for Mr. Ken Prewitt!’

“The audience cheered as a brown-haired man in blue jeans and a blue flannel shirt approached the stage. I remember because it would be the only applause he would get throughout his entire routine. ‘So I was flipping through the channels the other day, and I landed on MTV for about a minute. I saw that it was a rerun of ‘The Real World’ which I haven’t watched in years so I was about to change the channel again when I saw a preview for upcoming shows roll across the bottom of the screen. It said ‘Up next: ‘’MTV Cribs’. After that: ‘Nitro Circus’. It suddenly occurs to me; do we really need the ‘M’ in MTV anymore? Because I don’t think any of those are about music—‘

“The audience was dead silent, but he kept trying. ‘I’m just saying I grew up with MTV, and they always did have some weird stuff on there. But most of it at least somehow related to music; even ‘Beavis & Butthead’ featured music from time to time. Now you’re lucky if they show two hours of actual music a day; I don’t even think they do ‘TRL’ anymore—‘

“The silence was getting to him at this point. He was sweating and starting to stutter. ‘The only thing I can think of that relates to music on MTV is that ‘MTV News’ with Kurt Loder. Seriously, they’re still using him. Isn’t he a little old for the MTV crowd? Why not just hire Jerry Stiller while you’re at it? Or how about the bald guy from ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’? … Or maybe … I keep hearing rumors that Jay Leno wants to make a move. … Nothing, really? Cursing and sex jokes; that’s all you people care about? … That’s fine, whoever wins this filthy, and revolting title can have it? I don’t want it now! Thank you, I’ve never been more embarrassed to be a member of the human race in my life! Goodnight! I hope you all remember to drink, drive, and crash into each other!’

“Ken started to leave, but not before Al called out, ‘Seriously, next time take the Prozac before you get on stage!’

“Ken turned to him. ‘I guess I should expect that from you; you are the one who started us down this filthy road! You would say that!’

“’Somebody had to say something. Listen to this place; it’s like a cemetery in here. Don’t blame me because you’re not funny,’ Al said. The audience woke up suddenly at that remark. ‘Seriously everyone, he’ll be back tomorrow night; just hopefully not here.’

“’Oh, I’ll be back here tomorrow night, with kerosene and a lit match!’ Ken shouted as he stomped off the stage and nearly took the front entrance off the hinges.”

[valrush]

“The thing is, I don’t know that Al would have made it to the second night without Ken,” insisted Sam.

“How do you figure?” asked Scotty.

“I heard a few people talking after the contest. They said Al’s routine was okay, but what put them over the fence about voting for him was that they liked how he stood up to the ‘nutcase’,” Sam explained. “He got the last of the five spots. He got lucky in my opinion too, because I thought he had a lot better material than what he used that night.”

“What did he use?” asked Lilly.

“Something about when Michael Phelps got caught smoking that joint,” Sam explained.

“And you thought he had something better than that?” asked Lilly.

“Do you see the shelf on the right wall?” asked Sam pointing to a heavy, deep brown, wood shelf on the far right of the room. It contained a series of DVDs. “Al was a big show collector.”

“I see that: ‘The Golden Girls’, ‘Roseanne’, ‘Gilmore Girls’, ‘Sex & The City’, ‘Girlfriends’… These were all his?” asked Lilly.

“Yeah, believe it or not, he actually did have a girlfriend. But those were all his. I always said the easiest time I ever had living with a girl was with him. We joked about his collections all of the time; I even told him he should do a bit about it in his act. But he ended up going another way,” insisted Sam. “I inspired him to enter that contest. Sometimes I wonder if I didn’t get him killed.”

“Not unless you lit the match,” Lilly replied.

“Back to Mr. Prewitt. It’s been proven that kerosene was used to start that fire. You’re positive Prewitt used the word ‘kerosene’?” Scotty asked.

“Yeah, and I’ll tell you something else. Prewitt came back the second night of the contest. I saw him take a seat at one of the back tables, and his eyes were locked on Al the whole time,” Sam explained.

“And you didn’t tell the cops this two years ago?” asked Scotty.

“I didn’t know for sure that he did anything; it’s not like he came in with matches in his hands. Besides, they were quick to pin it on Mr. Reese. I always thought that was weird though. We drew a good crowd most nights; I couldn’t understand why he would feel the need to resort to arson,” Sam explained.

“Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Regan. We’ll call you if we need anything else,” said Scotty as they left.

[valrush]

Lilly and Scotty entered the outdoor supply section of the ‘Dick’s Sporting Goods’ store on Franklin Mills Blvd. They approached a brown-haired salesman as he was in the middle of showing a pair of customers what appeared to be an oversized, blue camping tent. The male-female pair backed away from him in discussion and Lilly and Scotty stepped in. “What can I get you two fine customers today?” the man asked.

“Information,” said Lilly flashing a badge. “Detectives Rush and Valens, Philadelphia Police. Are you Ken Prewitt?”

“Yes. So what can I get for a pair of Philly’s finest?” asked Ken.

“Information. We’re taking another look at the fire that was started at ‘The Splitting Sides’ comedy club two years ago,” Scotty replied.

“We’ve heard that you performed there the night before the fire, and that it didn’t go very well,” insisted Lilly.

“We heard you had some pretty nasty words with a fellow contestant by the name of Albert Dent. We’ve been talking to the bartender from that night, and he says you blamed him because you couldn’t compete with the mature material that the other comics were doing,” Scotty added.

“Yeah, I learned a very valuable lesson that night. Thirty-year-old virgins who live on their brother-in-law’s couch do not make good comics. I don’t necessarily mind dirty jokes, but when it’s nonstop and all you know how to do I just don’t respect the material,” Ken explained. “I heard on the news that they arrested the club owner for that fire. Why the hell are you questioning me again?”

“Our witness’s statement; you didn’t exactly tell the cops two years ago about your issues with Dent,” insisted Lilly.

“The emergency exit was obstructed from the outside; Dent was trapped in that fire! You threatened to burn the place down with kerosene, and kerosene was used to start the fire! How do you explain all this, Mr. Prewitt?” asked Scotty.

Ken shook his head. “Crazy coincidence? Yeah, I work in a camping supply store that sells kerosene lamps, so I guess it was just the first word that came to mind. I swear I didn’t find out about the fire or Dent until the next morning on the news. I was home asleep when that fire started. Check with my brother-in-law if you don’t believe me. You should have my address and he’s never exactly liked that I live there so you can trust him when he tells you.”

“Can he also cover for your identical twin? Because how else do you explain that the bartender says he saw you in the audience for the second night; he’s saying that you didn’t take your eyes off of Dent the entire time?” Scotty asked.

Ken sighed. “I was still angry, so I went back to the club. My intent was to heckle him a little and throw him off of his game. I figured he cost me, so I’m going to make him earn it tonight. But things didn’t exactly go according to plan for either of us.”

“What do you mean?” asked Scotty.

“He never even made it on stage that night. I don’t know what the hell was going on in that guy’s life, but somebody was screwing him up big time…”

[valrush]

Adele: “Right As Rain”

 
“I watched from the back of the club as the owner started things. I found Dent seated in the front wearing jeans and a deep blue jacket. ‘Okay, nice to see a lot of familiar faces from last night! Welcome to the second night of our open mic night contest! Let’s start things quickly with the man who got the highest score on the ballots last night! Welcome back Mr. Rick Huntley!’He must have performed after I left, because I didn’t remember Mr. Huntley. He was tanned with dark hair, and he wore jeans and a black, leather jacket.

“The audience clapped as he began to speak. ‘Okay, nice to see everyone again. It’s always good to know that I’m not the only person who thinks I’m funny. … But seriously, tonight’s routine comes with a message, and that message is don’t believe everything that you see. Your eyes can play tricks on you, and make you think things that aren’t real. For example, are you aware that right now you are actually looking at a big, ugly girl? … … Self described! … By which I mean that is my girlfriend in the front row, and nobody was more surprised than my own mother when I told her I was dating a female!’

“He pointed to some girl in the front that I didn’t recognize. But I was watching Dent, and something in him changed. He was turning red and was starting to sweat.

“The routine continued. ‘Even now my DVD collection would probably confuse people. … It’s all stuff like ‘Roseanne’, ‘Sex and the City’, ‘The Golden Girls’, ‘Gilmore Girls’, ‘Girlfriends’ … It’s a mystery even to me sometimes how I turned out straight. … … … And talking about my family. My mom actually came to my apartment a few days ago; I was giving her some stuff to sell on eBay. She looks at my DVDs and says ‘I still can’t believe you like all this girl stuff.’ And I just told her, ‘Why does this still shock you after all of these years? You’re the last person who should be surprised by that! After all, you’re the one who took me bra shopping when I was a kid!’ … … … I’m not lying! … … No, I swear I’m not making this up! This is how it happened. I was nine years old, and we were at the mall doing back-to-school clothes shopping. … I’m already really happy at the point. … Then my mom spies this ladies’ clothing store and suddenly remembers that she’s looking for a new bra, so guess who gets dragged into the store against his will! … … She paid for it though; for you see nine-year-olds can be curious. …’

“I was watching Dent through this whole thing. He went from dejection to absolute panic. He started fidgeting in his seat and fumbling through his various pockets whispering to himself, ‘What the hell? …Where? … Where the hell are they?’

“I caught the end of the act. ’But to this day, even though I got grounded for two weeks, I still put that day in the win column because she never made me go shopping with her again after that. … … … Looks like that’s my time! Thank you, you’ve been an amazing audience!’

“Rick left the stage and returned to the audience. But the girl that Rick had pointed to in his act;, she got up and walked over to Dent. She had long, light brown, straight hair and wore a black dress and matching heels. ‘He was right, that was pretty fun to watch,’ she said.

“Dent looked like he had been hit by a truck. ‘Cyndi! What did you—‘

“’I paid a little visit to Mr. Huntley backstage while you were in the can and gave him your index cards,’ she told him.

“’You gave him my material! Why would you do that?’ Dent asked.

“’Payback’s a b*tch isn’t it?’ Cyndi replied. ‘Next time, you might want to pay your own damn debts!’

“Cyndi went back to get her purse and then stormed out of the bar. Dent chased after her yelling, ‘What are you talking about? Cyndi, come back here!’

[valrush]

“Watching him get his; that was funny,” insisted Ken.

“’Pay your own damn debts’. Are you sure about that phrase? What do you suppose that meant?” asked Scotty.

“Maybe he owed her something. I don’t know, but something told me that whatever that girl was going to do to him was revenge enough for both of us. I didn’t have to stick around anymore; I got what I wanted,” Ken explained.

“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Prewitt,” Lilly added. She turned back to Scotty as they were about to leave the store. “What Ken described sounds a lot like the material Sam told us.”

“He also said Albert had a girlfriend, but he didn’t tell us about this fight. If he was there, he would have witnessed it,” insisted Scotty.

[valrush]

3

Lilly and Scotty stood over Sam who was seated at his couch in his apartment. “There’s a lot you didn’t tell us, Sam,” said Lilly.

“Does the name Cyndi ring any bells? Or how about Rick Huntley?” asked Scotty.

“Well, Rick Huntley was the guy who won the contest. What of it?” asked Sam.

“He won off of Al’s material,” said Scotty.

“We talked to Mr. Prewitt. He says that Mr. Huntley did a routine that night that Al thought sounded very familiar to him, and then he got into it with some girl named Cyndi and left. Albert didn’t even get on stage that night, did he?” asked Lilly.

Sam took a breath. “No, he didn’t.”

“So, who the hell was Cyndi, Sam, and how did she get Albert’s material?” Scotty demanded.

“Cyndi Watson, she was Al’s old girlfriend. Yeah, they got into it that night,” insisted Sam.

“Why not just tell us this in the first place?” asked Lilly.

“You’re looking for the person who started that fire. I knew Cyndi; there’s no way she would have gone that far. She already got her revenge,” insisted Sam.

“What were they fighting about? Mr. Prewitt said something about Albert owing a debt to someone,” Scotty explained.

“You just answered your own question, detective,” insisted Sam. “Al worked part time waiting tables at a restaurant a few days a week. He was out that afternoon, but Cyndi had spent the night here so she was here with me. I was standing in the kitchen over there when I heard this insanely loud knocking at the door. Pretty soon a guy comes into the apartment waving a golf club in the air; apparently, Al owed somebody some serious money…”

[valrush]

Adele: “Rumor Has It”

 
“Cyndi opened the door to a blonde-haired man in jeans and a blue button-down shirt holding a golf club in his hands. ‘Where’s Albert?’

“’Who are you?’ Cyndi asked.

“’Don’t try to hide him, lady; I know he lives here!’ the man yelled. He pushed his way past Cyndi into the apartment. Then he charged through the living room to the back bedrooms and started throwing doors open. ‘Hey Dent, do you remember me? It’s your old friend, Eddie McCrae! I Googled your address you little piss bucket! Just pay what you owe, and this will go a lot easier for both of us!’

“’He’s not here! Who the hell are you?’ Cyndi shouted.

“’I’m someone who believes that people should honor their responsibilities! If Dent doesn’t start paying what he owes, I’m going to dent his damn knees!’ insisted Eddie.

“I ducked behind the counter, opened the white kitchen drawer on the left of the sink, and pulled out a wad of cash. ‘$200, it’s all we have. Will this cover it?’

“’That’s barely a percentage of what he owes, but it’s something,’ Eddie replied in a slightly calmer tone.

“’Just take your money before I call the police!’ Cyndi shouted. ‘Son of a b*tch, what the hell did Al do to you anyway?’

“’I’m not here for me. Let me ask you something; are you with him or with Al?’ Eddie asked.

“Cyndi didn’t know what to say at first. ‘I’m … with Al. What do you care?’

“’I figured as much; you do look a lot like her,’ Eddie said.

“’Any time you want to start making sense, please do,’ I added.

“Eddie started walking toward the door. Then he turned around and said, ‘I don’t know you, but I know Al. Dump him now. The guy is a hustler, and he won’t be there for you when you need him.’

“’What makes you such an expert?’ Cyndi asked.

“’This looks like a decent apartment. How much of this furniture did Dent actually pay for?’ he asked. Cyndi said nothing. ‘You paid for most of it, didn’t you? I can tell because that’s what he does. He gets girls to fall for him to the point where they end up supporting him, and he gives them nothing. If you don’t believe me, ask him about Jessica when he comes home.’ That was the last thing he said before he left.”

[valrush]

“Cyndi just stared at the door for a few minutes after that, and I certainly didn’t know what to do either,” Sam added.

“Did this Eddie ever come back for more?” asked Scotty.

Sam shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Who was Jessica?” asked Lilly.

“I don’t know,” Sam insisted.

“Well, you said you two were close. Did he ever mention another girl to you?” asked Lilly.

“We weren’t as close as I thought apparently. I swear I don’t have a clue who Jessica is,” Sam replied.

“What about Cyndi? What did she do after the fight in the club?”

“I had other customers to deal with; I couldn’t exactly get away. You would have to ask her about that. I think she still lives in Center City East. Try 15 S Bank St.,” Sam explained.

“If we find out you know anything else, we will be back Mr. Regan,” insisted Scotty as they left.

[valrush]

Cyndi Watson’s apartment had a wall of brick as you entered. The remaining walls were painted white and the living room was made of a hardwood floor. Cyndi wore a pair of denim jeans and a yellow blouse as she sat down on the tan sofa along the left wall from the entrance. “Yeah, I was Al’s ‘girlfriend’; if you can really call me that. He was the biggest mistake I ever made, and I’ll be paying for it for a long time.”

“What do you mean?” asked Scotty.

“I made the classic rookie mistake with him; I tried to give him everything he wanted. Any time he said he needed something I was ready with the credit card, and I just kept piling on the debt,” Cyndi explained. “I should have known it was over about six months in when he told me he didn’t want kids, but I stuck around anyway. You always think you can change someone.”

“Speaking of debts, did you help him with Eddie McCrae?” asked Scotty.

“Do you mean the psycho golf club guy? Yeah that was definitely my wake up call,” Cyndi insisted.

“Which part, finding out he was in debt to someone, or finding out about Jessica?” Scotty asked.

“It doesn’t really matter I suppose. Either one would have made me lose it; it might even make me want to sabotage the guy I love,” Lilly added. “We have witnesses who say they saw you tell Albert off in the middle of the bar. We know you gave another comic Al’s material. We know you fought with Al. We know Al was obviously still in the bar that night. What we don’t know is what happened between these two events.”

“I didn’t start that fire if that is what you mean. But I did confront Al outside of the bar, and I pretty much found out everything I needed to know,” Cyndi said.

“Like what exactly?” asked Scotty.

“Ultimately, that I wasn’t the only girl in his life…”

[valrush]

Adele: “Turning Tables”

 
“I met Al outside of the bar, and he actually had the never to step up to me. ‘Are you crazy? You gave another comic my act!’

“’Well, technically I sold it to him! I had to get Sam his money back!’ I shouted.

“’Sam? I was counting on winning this thing tonight; I saved that material for tonight for a reason! I needed that money! What the hell were you thinking?’ Al asked.

“’What was I thinking? ‘Who the hell is Jessica?’; that’s what I was thinking!’ I shouted.

“Al stepped back. ‘How do you—‘

“’Wait, I have a better question! Who the hell is Eddie McCrae? Answer: he’s the armed nutcase who came charging through the apartment while you were out today saying he was there to collect—‘

“’Eddie came to the apartment! Great!’ Al added. Then he pulled a phone out of his pants pocket and began scrolling through a list of numbers before he finally found what he was looking for. I could hear a ringing phone through his phone. Then he spoke. ‘Penny, it’s Al! Look—‘

“’Who’s Penny?’ I asked as I wrestled the phone away from him. ‘Hello, Penny! This is Cyndi, Al’s girlfriend for the past year! I thought you would like to know that!’

“’Give me the phone!’ Al shouted as he snagged the phone out of my hand. ‘Look Cyndi, it’s not what you think! But I have to go! If you want to know the truth, come with me!’

“I threw my hands up in the air. ‘Leave. I don’t care anymore!’.”

[valrush]

“So he just left. He got in his blue Honda that was parked on the street and left,” insisted Cyndi.

“And you’re telling us you didn’t go after him as angry as you were?” asked Scotty.

“First Jessica and then Penny; that was two girls’ names mysteriously connected to Al that I had heard that day. That was all I needed to know,” Cyndi replied.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Watson,” said Lilly as they left the apartment. “So Eddie puts the squeeze on Al, and he calls some girl named Penny.”

“What’s the connection?” asked Scotty.

Lilly shook her head. “I don’t know. I think we need to go back to the station and do a little research on Mr. McCrae.”

[valrush]

4

At the station, Kat Miller and John Stillman dumped a pile of papers on the desk were Scotty and Lilly were seated. “This is everything we could find relating to the address for Mr. Edward McCrae. He lives at 1232 Pawlings Rd. in Phoenixville outside the city,” John explained.

Scotty shook his head. “Al must have really screwed this guy. Phoenixville is nearly an hour out of the city with traffic.”

“So you brought in Rush on this?” asked Stillman.

“I took your advice and brought some fresh eyes in on this,” Scotty responded.

“You said this case was a favor for the District Attorney’s office to try and prevent an appeal. Now you’re thinking this guy’s appeal might actually have merit?” asked Miller.

“We’re thinking there are a few things they didn’t look at two years ago,” insisted Rush.

“Well, tread carefully. The DA doesn’t usually like it when we reopen closed cases,” Stillman added.

“We’d like to lend a hand, but the rest of us might be working another case soon. The boss and I have a witness on ice in the conference room who says he has information on a shooting in Germantown from 1998,” Miller explained as they left

Scotty and Lilly to the papers.

The pair started sifting through the pile until Scotty picked his head up suddenly. “Hey, I think we just found our smoking gun. Mr. McCrae doesn’t live alone.”

“What do you have?” asked Lilly.

Scotty handed her a stapled document. “This is a copy of a complaint filed with the Philadelphia Court of Common Pleas: Family Division. It lists Albert Dent as the defendant, but it wasn’t filed by Eddie McCrae.”

“No, according to this it was filed by a Penelope McCrae. ‘Cause of Action: Nonpayment of child support regarding one minor female Jessica McCrae’.” Lilly read from the papers.

“Since I can’t seem to find a marriage license in any of this crap, I’m assuming Penny is Eddie’s sister. There’s your motive; nothing says ‘fiery vengeance’ like a dead beat dad,” insisted Scotty.

“But she wanted him to support his kid. In my experience, dead men don’t pay,” Lilly replied.

“Maybe not, but we both know how out of hand things can get when it’s a family matter,” said Scotty.

“Yes, I suppose we both do!” Lilly fired back. She reeled in her voice before speaking again. “But this still doesn’t put them at the bar on the night of the fire. Stillman is right; we need real evidence before we can accuse someone else.”

Scotty shook his head. “I guess it’s time to reexamine the crime scene.”

[valrush]

Scotty and Lilly arrived at the charred remains of The Splitting Sides later that day. The building’s façade was still covered in gray ash and yellow crime scene tape. Lilly and Scotty ducked under the tape. “Okay, we’re looking for open spaces where evidence could have been trapped during the fire and not necessarily found the first time through,” insisted Scotty.

“I’ve done arson scenes before, Scotty,” insisted Lilly.

Lilly and Scotty split up with Lilly examining the far area where the stage had been and Scotty examining near the bar. “The arson report said that the whole front of the building was doused with kerosene. The fire started at the front entrance as was evidenced by the burn pattern. The front window blew out, and the fire eventually spread to the bar where there was a host of flammable chemicals waiting—“ Scotty’s phone began to vibrate. He touched the screen to bring up a text message. The message began with a picture of a dark-haired girl in a floor-length white dress. He scrolled down the screen to find a caption: ‘A GIFT FRON MY NIECE; 4 DAYS AND COUNTING, VALENS!’

“What was that?” asked Lilly as she stood up.

“A little reminder from Mr. Reese that the clock is ticking,” Scotty informed as he showed Lilly the picture.

“How long do you think we can keep this up?” asked Lilly.

“As long as it takes to find something,” insisted Scotty.

“Let’s assume we do find something. Let’s assume we can get this guy cleared by Mr. Reese’s deadline. No matter how well this goes according to plan I still see there being fall out for both of us,” insisted Lilly.

“I didn’t ask for your help, Lilly. Against my warnings you volunteered. But as far as you are concerned you just thought you were assisting with a favor for the DA’s office, and you didn’t learn the truth until much later. Trust me, you have a lot less to worry about than me,” Scotty explained as his head rose from behind the bar. “Speaking of things I didn’t plan, Lilly, it’s been over a week. Are we ever going to talk about that night?”

Lilly stepped away from the stage. “I don’t know why I did what I did, Scotty. I’m still trying to figure that night out.”

“I’m trying to figure out a few things too, Lilly. For starters, aren’t you seeing someone? What happened to the FBI agent?” asked Scotty.

“You mean Ryan? I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him in months,” insisted Lilly.

“So I was just a fill-in guy until he gets in touch,” Scotty replied.

“No,” Lilly insisted.

“Well, have you thought about us before? You don’t strike me as the kind of girl who would just jump into bed with her partner without thinking about it first!” Scotty added.

“I don’t know what I think about us; I can’t focus on that right now! Let’s just worry about keeping your badge for right now,” insisted Lilly.

Scotty shrugged and dove back behind the bar. Then he came back up suddenly with something in his hands. “I think I found something.” Lilly ran to the bar where Scotty showed her a partial photograph. The bottom left corner had burned away, but it still showed a picture of a brunette woman in a pink jacket and jeans pushing a stroller that appeared to contain an infant girl. “It got trapped under the low shelf behind the bar, and it has writing on the back: ‘Mama and Jessica, Fairmount Park, Spring, 2006’. This picture was worth at least seven words to somebody.”

“It could be worth more than that. I think it’s time to look up Penny McCrae,” insisted Lilly.

[valrush]

Eddie McCrae’s Pawlings Rd. home was a brick house with a white metal door in the front. But Scotty’s attention went to the garage. He looked through the windows of the blue garage door. It was dark now, but there was still some light coming from a small bulb that had been plugged into the far wall. He motioned to Lilly and then pointed first at a black cylindrical object in the center of the cement floor and then at a large blue container with a long, gray spout. “That container is labeled ‘Kerosene: 5 gal.’,” Scotty observed.

Lilly and Scotty went back to the door, rang the bell, and a blonde-haired man answered. “Eddie McCrae?” asked Lilly.

“I don’t know who you are, but it’s late,” insisted Eddie.

The pair flashed their badges. “Well, we’re used to late hours. Philadelphia homicide, we’d like to ask a few questions about Albert Dent,” insisted Lilly.

“For starters, where could we find Penny McCrae? We found a connection to her too,” Scotty asked.

“They were connected alright; she’s my sister. You can find her coming down the stairs,” Eddie informed. He pointed to a short, brunette woman in a pink robe descending brown-carpeted stairs.

“Whoever that is is lucky that Jessica is at a friend’s house tonight. It’s almost midnight,” insisted the woman.

“It’s cops, Penny. They’re asking about our very favorite person,” Eddie explained.

“Does Albert Dent sound familiar? He was killed in a fire at a comedy club called ‘The Splitting Sides’ in March, 2009,” Lilly informed.

“The fire was intentionally set with kerosene. We noticed your kerosene heater in the garage,” insisted Scotty.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, but I didn’t want Al dead. I didn’t start any fire; I didn’t even own that heater in 2009. Believe me, I wish I had,” insisted Eddie.

“What do you mean?” asked Lilly.

“The pipes in our garage froze solid last winter. So this past fall I broke down and bought a heater. Besides, I’ve never even heard of that place,” Eddie explained.

“If that’s true, how do you explain this picture being found at the scene?” asked Lilly. She removed the charred picture from her coat pocket. It was in a plastic evidence bag.

“We know about the lawsuit, Penny. We also know about how Eddie came to Al’s apartment armed and demanding money,” Scotty added.

“Damn it Eddie, I told you not to do anything stupid!” Penny yelled.

Eddie took the picture and examined it. “You’re not serious. This is how long it takes cops to return stolen property.”

“Stolen ?” asked Scotty.

“Check your records. We reported a break-in in early March, 2009. My daughter was not quite four years old at the time; she had nightmares for months after that,” Penny informed.

“What was taken?” asked Lilly.

“That,” said Eddie pointing at the picture. Then he pointed at the window behind him in the center of a deep green wall. “Someone broke that window with a rock and stole a picture.”

“Did they catch the thief?” asked Lilly.

“No, but if you say Dent was killed in a fire, I’d say the thief got his,” insisted Eddie.

“You think Al did the break-in?” asked Scotty.

“Eddie, I’m the last person to defend that bum, but you don’t know it was him,” insisted Penny.

“Who else would have stolen something dumb like that?” asked Eddie. “I remember it became known around here as ‘the night of no sleep’. First he calls you, and you get b*tched at by that hysterical woman! Then he shows up at our house about an hour later, and then about an hour after that the break-in happened!”

“Al came here?” asked Scotty.

“Yeah, he just showed up here late at night demanding to see Jessica, but obviously we didn’t let him in. That’s why I figure the theft had to be his stupid little revenge against us,” insisted Eddie.

“But he wasn’t alone, Eddie,” Penny chimed in. “Don’t you remember the girl? Al looked just as surprised as we did…”