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Chapter 24: Start Entering the Victory Settlement Screen
Holt confessed.
He admitted to killing all four victims while under the influence of uncontrollable rage.
Reviewing the entire interrogation, though brief, it had been remarkably shrewd.
Theodore had anticipated Holt's natural reaction and presented irrefutable evidence, cutting off any path to deny the crimes.
Then, step by step, he forced Holt to lose emotional control, finally seizing the perfect moment to guide him toward a pre-prepared escape routeâoffering him a false but psychologically acceptable justification:
It wasn't me who did it; it was the anger.
Since anger was responsible, confessing became understandable.
Bernie handed the signed confession to Wenner and returned to the office, still riding high on excitement.
Cahill's plan had been transparent even to a fool: release Old Howard's testimony to the media, showcase the Patrol Department's capabilities in solving the murder case, demonstrate their superiority to Chief Widdek, and promote his own theories.
Now Cahill had just released Old Howard's testimony, only to have it proven false immediately afterward.
The thought of that scene was absolutely exhilarating!
Bernie muttered to Theodore, gleefully imagining how mortified Cahill would be and how humiliated Chief Widdek must feel.
Theodore studied Bernie with suspicious eyes, wondering if his partner was doing this deliberately.
How else could he explain Bernie's Schrödinger-like intelligenceâbrilliant one moment, oblivious the next?
Theodore shook his head. "This isn't our business. What we should be focusing on now is organizing these case files."
With four cases total, including last night's, being closed simultaneously, they were going to be swamped with paperwork.
Theodore believed this wasn't really about himâhe had simply solved a case that happened to become the focal point of a power struggle between two department heads. Nothing more.
But clearly, things weren't that simple.
Near quitting time, Wenner switched on the television in the main office.
That fool Cahill was nowhere to be seen on screen. Instead, the Felton local channel was broadcasting a feature about the serial cases, praising the Tin District sub-bureau.
The report repeatedly highlighted the Homicide Team's relentless pursuit of the killer and the detectives' tireless dedicationâhow they never gave up and finally cracked this extraordinary case.
The segment was still running when enthusiastic applause erupted throughout the office.
Amid the ovation, Wenner clicked off the TV. Rather than giving a lengthy speech, he simply raised his hand and declared:
"Well done!"
The office atmosphere immediately reached fever pitch.
The applause grew thunderous, and whistles blended into one continuous roar.
For the past two days, everyone in the Homicide Team had been bottling up their frustrationâespecially after having their suspect snatched away at the scene last night. These tough men had been ready to explode with rage.
Now, with the Homicide Team solving four cases while the Patrol Department had been humiliated from top to bottom by a common criminal, they naturally felt triumphant.
If not now, when would be the time to gloat?
Many officers were shouting "Good job!" toward the hallway, purely to needle the Patrol Department.
Wenner made no effort to stop his subordinates' excessive celebration. In fact, this competitive streak was something he had cultivated himself.
After turning off the television, he called Theodore and Bernie into his office, retrieved two formal invitations from his desk drawer, and handed them overâconveying Councilman Howard's personal invitation.
"There's a press conference tomorrow morning. Councilman Howard has specifically invited both of you to attend. Remember to wear your best suits."
After speaking, he studied Theodore for a long moment before asking quietly, "Theodore, do you have any plans for your future career?"
Theodore looked puzzled.
Wenner tapped his desk thoughtfully. "I'm going to sponsor you for membership in the Fraternal Order of Police. Bernie is also an FOP member, and we'll both vouch for you."
"It's not mandatoryâyou can consider whether to join. Give me your answer by the end of this week."
He turned to Bernie. "You brief Theodore on what the FOP is about."
With those instructions, the meeting concluded.
Leaving the office, Bernie seemed unusually excited, which piqued Theodore's curiosity about this FOP organization.
Bernie glanced around, pulled Theodore into an empty interrogation room, locked the door, and began slowly introducing the FOP.
The Fraternal Order of Police had originally been a mutual aid society for Pittsburgh police, created to organize funerals for fallen officers. Over time, it gradually expanded and became a national organization.
Today, the FOP was the largest police organization in Americaâwherever there was a police department, there was an FOP lodge.
The FOP's influence within law enforcement was unimaginable to ordinary civilians. Most local police promotions and transfers were first discussed internally within FOP circles and only proceeded after receiving organizational approval.
FOP membership requirements were extremely strictânot only requiring guarantees from at least two official members, but also requiring approval through a vote by the local lodge. Membership was limited to white males.
Theodore being accepted into this organization would mean his future was virtually assured.
America's defining characteristic was its network of exclusive clubs and fraternal societies. Only by participating in these groups could one gain access to real advancement opportunities.
Bernie's expression turned unusually serious as he explained these details. He glanced toward the bustling office beyond and whispered,
"Don't let all the people out there fool youâthere are only three actual FOP members in this entire unit."
"But you don't need to worry. Wenner is an FOP veteran with connections throughout the organization. With him sponsoring you, your membership approval is practically guaranteed."
Theodore reserved judgment on Bernie's descriptions.
If the FOP was really that powerful, why was Bernieâwho was over fortyâstill just a Sergeant?
Sergeant was the lowest command rank in the police hierarchy, marking the transition from patrol officer to management. Sergeant promotion typically required at least five years of service, though in practice it commonly took seven to nine years.
Bernie...
Theodore calculated silently: Bernie had enlisted at twenty, retired from active military duty at thirty, joined the police force at thirty-five, and was only forty-one nowâalready a Sergeant.
Six years from rookie cop to Sergeant?
One had to remember that the probationary period alone lasted six months!
Theodore felt newfound respect for the FOP's influence.
At the same time, he wondered if joining this organization meant his hope of making Sergeant within seven months might actually be realistic.
With this thought, he asked quietly, "Who's the third member?"
Bernie pointed toward the corner of the office. "Sam Latimer."
If Bernie hadn't identified him, Theodore would have nearly forgotten such a person existed on the Homicide Team.
Sam Latimer was of Mexican descentâa taciturn middle-aged man who always wore the same black jacket and kept to his corner desk, maintaining an almost invisible presence.
Bernie drew Theodore's attention back. "Anyway, there's absolutely no downside to joining the FOP."
After covering these details, Bernie invited Theodore to his home for the weekend.
In this era, police partnerships held extraordinarily special meaning, representing one of the most stable and reliable relationships possible.
In the future, if anything happened to Bernie, Theodore would be obligated to help care for his familyâespecially his children.
After a month of working together, Bernie had fully accepted Theodore as his partner and was ready to introduce him to his family.
Theodore was genuinely touched and naturally agreed, though he couldn't reciprocate by inviting Bernie to his own home.
Introduce Uncle Edgar to Bernie?
Don't be ridiculous.
Just imagining that scenario was enough. Theodore even worried that Hoover might arrest Bernie on the spot and ship him off to Quantico, and then a year later both men would find themselves deployed to Southeast Asia, running through jungles and defecating in foxholes together...
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