Frederick Steele's Last Case

Photos of Detective Chief Inspector Frederick Steele sit on his home office wall. There are newspaper clippings of successful cases, headlines like “Steele Resolve, Beats the Bandits,” and “Interrogation of Steele Breaks Open the Case.”Frederick Steele, his face wrinkled, was wearied by 25 years in the job. A bottle of un-opened champagne sat on his home office desk. A celebratory bottle for his retirement. Sitting back in his chair, Frederick felt he could turn his attention to other things now. Like his glucose levels. He is already type 1 diabetic. He began fumbling in his bottom drawer, blindly searching for his secret stash of lollies, he didn’t want to worry his wife. The words of his doctor from his most recent appointment echoes in his mind.

And no, I’m not happy you’re still having sweets, but at least you’re down to one a week instead of more than 50. With this in mind, Frederick felt the occasional indulgence would be okay.

His wife Martha, walks into the room, smiling. It had been a long career for her husband. Often Frederick Steele, as DCI, was knee deep in evidence, working on it, long into the night. Not stopping until the first of the sun’s rays peaked through the blinds.

“Looks like that cruise can’t come soon enough,” says Martha.

“Yeah, it is good I can put all this behind me, relax and get some fresh air,” says Frederick. “I am glad to be retiring but I’m concerned about what will happen to the police station after I’ve left. I don’t trust the new DCI.”

Martha speaks, “They are going to have to manage on their own from now on. I’ll go make us a coffee.”

“Thanks love,” says Frederick.

No sooner is she out of the room when the phone on his desk rings.

“Hello this is the Steele residence.”

“I’m needed at the station?” Frederick looks in the direction his wife went.

“Hmm mmm. Why isn’t Mack overseeing?”

“Okay yes, it’s because I know the background of the case.”

“I’ll be in tomorrow morning.” Frederick hangs up.

Martha walks back into the room with the coffees.

Frederick speaks, “What if I told you the station called and they need me to go in?”

“You promised that was it, no more police cases.”

“I know, but just one more. They need my expertise.”

“Well just do it then. I’ve had 25 years being your second priority, I can cope with one more.”

“Oh c’mon, you know you’re not second. One more case and we’ll be sailing away.”

She nods smiling and squeezes his shoulder then leaves the room.

The next day, Frederick is heading straight for his recently vacated office.

With his neatly adjusted tie and tucked shirt, DCI Steele is in his element at the police station. He’d made his reputation, being a results-driven and harsh interrogator.

“Good morning sir” a nervous sounding young recruit says, surprised to see him back.

“DCI Steele! Thought you’d be cracking open the champagne on the deck of the ship by now,” a Sargent says as he passes him down the corridor.

“Alright, that’s enough from you. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Sorry Sir.”

DCI Steele is about to enter his office when he is greeted by the new DCI, Mack.

“Wow that was quick! Its doin my head in I tell ya. I thought someone’s got to know better and I thought of you. Yep, you’re the first one I called.”

“Of course,” Steele says nodding.

“He’s over there, in that room, the 6-year-old suspect. the room where people in suits talk to crims.”

“The interrogation room?”

DCI Mack nods and points at Steele. “Yeah, that’s the one. Anyway, I was sort of hoping you could it.”

“I figured.”

“Between you and me, I don’t like the look of that guy, he’s hiding something, and I don’t know what it is,” says DCI Mack.

“I’ll be fine, he’s a six-year-old. What time?” asks Steele.

“10am.”

“I’m on it.”

Frederick enters the office so he can find the case papers again. To remind himself of the specifics. Sorting through documents, he finds the papers and starts reading.

Children have been returning home, with odd behaviours, and no links connecting them. At multiple primary schools, someone has been distributing jelly beans. Brenna, the student teacher was the first person of interest, as she’d worked across all schools concerned. The other suspect is her six-year-old nephew. Frederick’s phone alarm is going off, reminding him to do his insulin shot. He feels guilty, thinking he shouldn’t have had that half a teaspoon of sugar in his coffee that morning. Untucking his business shirt he injects into his stomach, then neatly tucks his shirt back in. While Steele is lost in thought, he is twiddling an empty jelly bean packet between his fingers. This packet is a specific brand, only sold by the big supermarkets. It had been confiscated for evidence, however it had already been forensically tested and was clear. Steele has a great nostalgia and fondness for the jelly bean.

It is 10am in Interview Room 3. Steele reaches under the desk, fetching evidence, retrieved from the most recent incident. “Right, where did you get it Johnny?” A small, zip-lock bag sat in front of the six-year-old, Johnny Armani. Inside the bag, was three jelly beans.

“If you’re going to talk to me right, in an interview, like this, then you gotta call me by my street name. It’s Johnny the Ice Armani.”

“Oh I see, tough guy, eh? Is that your mafia name, Iceman?”

“No, the Ice is short for Icy pole.”

DCI Steele slaps the desk. “Damn it Armani, I need you to focus.”

“You got like no idea bro,” says Johnny.

“Well, help me out. This was found under your seat, in the classroom, so you better explain this.”

“Yeah, it’s mine, so what?” Johnny does a sideways glance at his mother. He is swinging his legs, as they don’t reach the floor.

Steele asks, “Aren’t your family in the suit business?”

Johnny looks slightly embarrassed while answering.

“Yeah, that was my great-great-grandfather. He never knew about my smuggling though, of the candies.”

“Johnny, what? I’m so disappointed in you,” says his mother.

“Please Mrs Armani, let the boy talk,” Steele says. Then he continues. “Concerning the jelly beans, are you a supplier or distributor? Who are you working for?”

Armani shakes his head answering, “You think so small old man.”

“Don’t talk to him like that darling,” says the mother.

“It’s quite alright, I’m used to this,” answers Steele.

“This is a joke man, his got nothin on me!”

“Alright, interview suspended at 10.16am.” Steele turns off the recording. “I’ll be back in 10 minutes.”

Outside Mack is waiting, he’s been pacing up and down.

“Heya Steele, what did you find out?”

“He definitely knows more than he’s letting on. Although I’d like to talk to Brenna, his aunty, the student teacher. I think I should do that next. After I finish this interview.”

“Maybe I can sit in with this boy, get on his good side and get a discount on a suit,” DCI Mack says.

“Sure yeah, because that’s a great idea. No. You stay here. I’ll continue alone.”

Back in Interview Room 3 after 10 minutes, the recording commences.

“Interview recommencing 10.27am.” Steel pushes the recording button. Johnny Armani’s mother nods at her son and he speaks.

“Alright, I’ll help you out. Cos me mums promised me a new iPhone. There’s a warehouse, it’s located a couple of blocks from me school. That’s all you’re getting for now.”

“What’s the address?” asks Steele.

“You know where my school is. It’s Unit 109 on that same street.” Frederick Steele scribbles down the new information. Sees Johnny and his mother to the exit and gets in his car and drives to the school.

“Hi, I’m Brenna,” she says, smiling and reaching across her desk to Steele as he arrives at her classroom. “Oh, I hope everything is okay I haven’t had to speak to a DCI before except there was that one time when I was 11 but I’m sure you’re not here asking about that are you?”

“What? Well no, we’re just making enquiries for now about current issues.”

“Phew, that is a relief. Not that there’s anything to say about it well I think anyway. Although my friend would probably say different gosh she’s still angry at me, got to remember to call her.”

“No, Brenna, this is an unrelated matter. We think someone has been distributing jelly beans to kids. Have you noticed a spike in hyper activity in the students?” asks Frederick.

A school bell rings out in the background, signalling the end of recess.

“Not especially.” Brenna looks around, her eyes shoot from left to right and she appears agitated. “Oh, kids, their so full of energy.”

“Just like you then?” Steele says. Brenna laughs and tucks her hair behind her ear. “You look a little on edge.”

A phone starts going off in a drawer, Brenna apologises and opens it to switch it to silent. Feeling Steele’s eyes on her drawer, she fumbles to close it. In doing so, it reveals a small corner of a lolly packet under some papers.

Steele’s eyes narrow on her.

“What was that packet in your drawer?”

“Um, that was part of my lunch from earlier.” Frederick stares at her.

“Okay, okay, I have given out some jelly beans to kids but please I don’t want my husband to know what I’m about to say. I’ve been dressing up as a fairy at children’s birthday parties on the weekends you know, just to make some extra cash. It is there that I’ve been giving out jelly beans.”

Brenna continues. “I’ve been watching that show, you know the one, where the hosts visit families’ houses and look at ways where they can save money on their weekly supermarket visits?”

“No, I don’t know that one.”

“Oh, you know, they look at the prices of name brands and the big supermarket brands then tell the families how they can save their money. If they shop at discount supermarkets instead they can offer similar cheaper alternatives anyway, I decided to buy a cheaper brand of jelly bean, to see if I’d like it. You know just because of that. It says it has got less sugar promising the same great taste, but not skimping on flavour you know, but I never trusted the advertis-

“Brenna! What does this have to do with it?”

“Anyway, after I did that for a bit, I found I had saved some money.” Tears start falling from Brenna’s eyes and her voice goes squeaky.

“You’re talking very fast. Are you sure these new ones you buy are lower sugar? You seem a bit hyper.”

“Yes definitely. About 25 percent less.”

Steele makes a mental note to look out for this brand, thinking he could buy it.

Brenna continues. “Occasionally, if we have friends over at like a dinner party, they’re a bit snobby, so I have to, to serve you know, the more exuberant name brands.” Brenna’s cheeks are wet with tears.

“So, you’ve never given out the ones from the big supermarkets to children?”

“No, not to the kid’s parties, I don’t give out the pricey stuff, I can’t afford that. No never.”

Hearing discount store, Steele realises that this jelly bean racket, concerns brands only sold at the big supermarkets, so she’s probably eliminated as a suspect.

“Well, as part of our investigation we will be reviewing all CCTV, and if you’re lying then you’ll hear from us.”

Steele is walking down corridors to leave the school. “Excuse me? Just wait,” Frederick says as he makes his way down a corridor. “You there, just stop.” Frederick holds onto the scruff of a kid’s collar. The child is wild-eyed and squirming, classic signs of too much sugar. Steele had observed it in people his own age as well. He is eyeing him closely, before letting him go. The child scampering off to join the others. Steele got the scent of an unmistakeable smell. The smell transported him back to his youth. Memories of bright summer days, corner shops and of mischief. Frederick looked around, the ceiling fan whirling around, confusing the scent with other smells, of glue sticks and mixed with sandwich fillings. Then Steel spotted it, a lolly wrapper under his polished shoe. He leans down to pick it up.

As Frederick drives home that night, his mind is a blur of different thoughts. He knew, after viewing the CCTV he would either be able to eliminate Brenna as a suspect or she would remain a person of interest.

The next day Steele comes into the station.

“Hi Fred, back again?” asks DCI Mack.

“Yes, I’ve just received the CCTV from the discount store, join me and we can work through it. We’ll see if Brenna’s story is true, about her only buying the cheaper brand of jelly beans. Mack follows Steele into a nearby room. They both sit down. Frederick fumbles with the CCTV discs then places the first one in the DVD disc tray and closes it. A video comes up on the screen and starts playing. The view is showing the front door to the discount store, and customers entering and exiting. Frederick sits and watches the footage, occasionally rewinding the video and zooming in on customers’ faces.

After a while of this Federick pauses the video and speaks. “Look here.” Frederick points at a woman’s face on the screen, it is blurry and he can’t make out details. “Does that look like Brenna?”

“I think so,” answers Mack, who is looking bored and is swivelling on his chair. Frederick presses play, then pauses and rewinds it again.

“She seems to be carrying something bright coloured, let me just zoom in.” Steele zooms in. “That is the cheaper brand of jelly beans. Brenna is telling the truth, her alibi checks out. Right, I want a full police raid organised for the warehouse, Johnny Armani is our prime suspect.”

The raid is organised for three days’ time, just after the weekend.

It is Monday morning, there is still a few hours before the raid. Frederick is making final arrangements, discussing the plans with the PCs that will be joining him. They are interrupted by the station receptionist.

“Sorry to disturb you Sir, but there is a boy and his mother at the front reception wanting to see you.”

“Thank you Lily. I’ll be right out. Please show them into Interview Room 3.” He turns to the PCs next to him and says, “If this is who I think it is, then we may not be going ahead with the raid. I’ll let you know.”

In Interview Room 3 Steele walks in and finds Johnny Armani and his mother. Just who he suspected it was.

“Hello Johnny. Mrs Armani.”

“Hello Mr Steele,” the mother says. “Johnny has something he needs to say.”

Frederick hits record and says the time of interview commencement.

Johnny Armani starts with a heavy sigh then starts talking.

“At the warehouse a truck arrives every morning, about six.”

Frederick is listening intently and taking notes.

“That’s where I take delivery of the sugar and corn syrup. It’s also where other ingredients like the citric acid and tapioca dextrin are dropped off. It’s all cooked up at that warehouse. It’s packaged by workers there into small zip lock bags and it’s distributed to the schools. We actually produce so much, we’ve started selling it to the big supermarkets. So around 12, another truck picks up the freshly cooked jelly beans, packaged for retail. My friend has a brother, who’s 19 and he signs all our official documents cos we’re underage. My aunty Brenna’s not involved. I came up with all of this, I’m the brains in this whole operation.”

“Thank you for your honesty Johnny the Icypole Armani. See? I remember. I’m not such an old man.”

Johnny bows his head, “Thank you. You know you’re not too bad for a cop.”

“I’m a retired cop now. Well, you can’t be trialled as an adult, so you’ll probably get off this one. So, what’s next for you?”

“I think I’m just going to focus on being a kid for a while.”

“Good idea,” Steele agrees.

A few weeks later, Frederick Steele and his wife Martha are lounging on a deck of a cruise ship about to leave port. The bottle of retirement champagne is beside them ready to be opened, when they depart. Martha is reading that morning’s newspaper. “Oh, look Frederick,” she says pointing at the headline.

It reads:

Supermarket Giant Goes Bankrupt due to Shortage of Jelly Bean Suppliers.

“Oh dear,” Steele replies.