Billy’s Case Files
by Ermintrude
See part one for disclaimers
Part 16
A Relative Situation February 11, 1985
Billy sat and thought about Lee after he left for Amanda’s to pick up his uncle. ‘This has to be hard for the man. His uncle, Colonel Clayton is facing a court martial for the death of those pilots. He’s never gotten along with the man, but he’s Lee’s only living relative, and despite what he says—Scarecrow does care for his uncle.’ Billy thought back to the details in Scarecrows personal file. Orphaned at 5, sent to live with his paternal grandmother (widowed) after that. When she died a couple years later, he was shipped off to live with his uncle—his father’s half-brother—Captain Robert Clayton, USAF. They lived on Air Force bases all over the world, never more than two years in one place.
‘Lee does respect the man as a military officer. And he understands him—a maverick in a profession that doesn’t like change. But there’s still that resentment left over from the years they spent together. Losing his parents was a big blow—and then his grandmother shortly after that. Then going to live with a man who never expected to be a parent. That must have been a shock for the Captain. It turned his life upside down. But, to his credit, he took Lee in, and raised him as best as he could. And it turned out all right. Lee is a fine man—a great agent—a real credit to his uncle. The man must be proud of him.’
‘A maverick—that describes Scarecrow. He always wants to do things his way—breaks the rules when it suits him—can be argumentative to the point of insubordination—yet he gets the job done. And look at who he’s partnered with! If any partnership is unconventional—it’s that one. Lee and the Colonel are two of a kind. But I’d better not tell either of them that—they’d not like it at all.’
After Life of the Party February 18, 1985
Billy read Francine's case report on the Burling Brothers' case.
"Mrs. King displayed unusual courage and resourcefulness in following Scarecrow to Frankie Columbo's packing plant, and in helping rescue the kidnapped agents."
He shook his head—Francine praising Amanda's actions—amazing. Well, she was an amazing woman. And they were lucky she had the guts to bluff her way into Columbo's good graces. Once again, her suburban domestic skills had come in handy. She was certainly an asset. Billy chuckled as he recalled how she had related that Francine had offered her twenty dollars to clean the bathroom for her. It wasn't in Amanda's report—but it did make for a good story. And Billy had made sure he was watching when Lee presented Francine with her 'souvenir' of the case. Everyone—except Francine—had gotten a good laugh out of that one.
Yes, the Agency was a better place with Amanda King around. Billy hoped she was around for many years to come.
After Odds On a Dead Pigeon February 25, 1985
Billy was wrapping up the files on the two agents that Karen Brinkman had murdered. Cradle and Trelogen were nice guys—but apparently they also had eyes for Mrs. King. Billy thought Scarecrow’s protectiveness and threats had made any problems between her and any other man at the Agency impossible. But it seemed that even the wrath of Scarecrow wasn't enough to deter some of the males from taking a chance with her, if they got it.
'How could those two have misjudged her so badly? Amanda King isn't the type to go in for casual lunchtime affairs. But men don't always use their brains when a beautiful woman shows interest and suggests a daytime tryst. So Karen managed to lure both men to their deaths. As Amanda. Hopefully she'll not realize what that means for her. She's still an innocent in so many ways. She would never think of using her sexuality like that. But if she did...' Billy mused over the thought of Amanda as a femme fatale—it wasn't hard. She had the looks. 'But so much of Amanda's charm is her sweetness. And doing something like that just isn't in her character. Still, she wouldn't be the first agent to end up doing something that clashed with their personal morality...'
'I guess we're lucky she's still just a civilian auxiliary. Because most women in this business end up playing that role sooner or later. And she'd not like it—but if duty demanded it...' Billy thought Amanda would give it the old college try. 'So all-in-all maybe it was for the best that she flunked out of Station One. I like her as she is—not cynical and hard like Francine.'
Car Wars March 11, 1985
“Come.” Billy replied to the knock on his office door.
“Melrose, I’m here to talk to you and your unit about fiscal responsibility.” Mr. LaRue from Internal Finances announced as he entered and made himself comfortable in front of Billy’s desk.
Billy laid down the papers he had been reading and sat back to hear LaRue’s rant. It was always a rant—the man knew no other way of making his point. “I’m listening.” He replied simply.
“I have been going over the expense reports generated by your field unit.” He held up a sheaf of papers and waved them at Billy. “Some of these expenses are just ridiculous. For example—why are we repairing the same station wagon over and over? Why doesn’t this—“ he checked the sheet, “civilian auxiliary, take more care in her driving?”
“Mrs. King is a careful driver. I can’t help it that she keeps getting into situations where her car is damaged. I figure it’s better than her getting killed.”
“Death benefits pay out only once. This car has been repaired—at the Agency’s expense—no fewer than 17 times. We could have bought a new car for what those repairs have cost over the past 18 months.”
“What else do you have?” Billy didn’t want to go any further into Amanda King’s car repairs.
“Why is your unit paying regularly for evening gowns and designer clothing? Mostly for one operative—Francine Desmond.”
“Ms. Desmond wears those gowns at official functions as an Agency operative—she works security details and also information is passed at those functions. She has to dress the part so she doesn’t look out-of-place.”
“Can’t she wear a gown more than once? It seems she buys a new gown every time she’s on one of these details.”
“What else do you have?” Billy was fast becoming weary. This was a ritual—every year LaRue came up and demanded they cut expenses, and every year they made the effort. It was part of the endless workings of bureaucracy. His unit was supposed to do their jobs—and there were certain expenses that came from doing the work. LaRue’s job was to keep track of accounts, and try to keep spending down. And subsequently he visited every unit in the Agency by turn, and admonished them all about unnecessary costs and fiscal responsibility. Billy imagined the man under torture—his mantra would probably be ‘fiscal responsibility and cost cutting’.
“Last month I received a bill for $532, for a suite at the Carlton-Ritz for one week. What were your people doing at the Carlton-Ritz? Couldn’t they have chosen a less expensive hotel?”
“They had no choice—we were conducting surveillance on a man suspected of having dealings with known arms brokers. He was staying at the Carlton-Ritz—so staking out a cheaper hotel wouldn’t have gotten us any useful intelligence.” Billy knew his snide answer wouldn’t help, but he was exasperated. What did the man think they did? Party?
LaRue chose to ignore the jibe. “And did you get any useful intelligence?”
“Nothing big—but we got several promising leads which we are following up on.”
“So that money was wasted, then.” He looked disgusted.
“Look, LaRue—we can’t predict beforehand the results of any one surveillance operation. All we can do is to do our jobs, go where the leads take us, and hope we get something useful.”
“I see.” LaRue looked like he planned on pursuing the matter, but then he put the papers away. “It’s obvious that going through any more examples will be futile. So I’ll get straight to the point. I have authorization from the Director that this time—you people will have to take my warnings seriously. First—there will be a 60-day item-by-item audit of all field agent’s expense accounts. Everything will be scrutinized and questioned.”
Billy nodded—this was nothing new.
“Second—if there are discrepancies or questionable claims—we will determine whether the claim will be allowed, and if necessary, make paycheck adjustments.”
Billy nodded again. This was also old hat.
“Third—if we determine there has been abuse of the expense reimbursement process, I am authorized to issue reprimands and fines to those responsible.”
Billy nodded—this was something new, but he wasn’t going to let the man know he was unhappy about it.
“And finally—I am authorized to make you personally responsible for all the discrepancies and abuses, so the possibility of a fine and reprimand will extend to you as well.”
Billy sat still. This was going way too far. What did the man think? That he conspired to help his agents abuse the system? It was difficult enough to get proper reimbursements as it was. And he did review and authorize the expenses submitted. He had to sign off on all the requisitions, and he read and often denied requests. This was one reason Billy contemplated early retirement. Paperwork was a necessary part of being a section chief—but this make-work witch-hunt was going too far.
“LaRue—we are short handed as it is. Now—in addition to doing our regular jobs—are you telling me we all have to spend more time working on expenses? Will you authorize the overtime necessary to get all that done? Or are we expected to cut down on our regular duties so we can get this audit done?”
“I cannot authorize overtime to get this necessary fiscal cleanup done. I daresay if your people spent more time knuckling down and working and less time hanging around the water cooler or pursuing their endless conquests they would have ample time to do their jobs AND get their expenses in order. And I’ll thank you to keep your hotshot agents away from my clerical staff. They have enough to do without fending off their unwanted advances.”
Billy briefly contemplated pulling his service revolver and shooting the man between the eyes. As satisfying as the thought was—he also realized it would be a useless gesture. LaRue would be dead—but the bureaucracy would just send another soulless, humorless, tight-assed lackey—and the dance would start all over again. He sighed. ‘This too shall pass. Maybe if I just let him address the unit and then make an effort, something will come up, and we’ll be back to normal. The man has to justify his job, and this is how he does it.’ Billy chose to be accommodating and mollifying. He could always shoot the man later. In a dark alley. “OK LaRue—I hear you. Come on—you can address the unit yourself and lay your ultimatums on them.”
“And I can expect your full endorsement and cooperation.” It was a statement—not a question.
“I will work to keep all expenses down as much as possible. But my agents still have to be able to do their jobs as well.”
“Just so they keep the extra spending to an absolute minimum.”
“We’ll certainly try to do just that.” Billy knew better than to promise—but the man needed his pound of flesh—or he would be back week after week until he felt his demands were being properly heeded. Billy stood and moved to the door. “No time like the present.”
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.