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Billy’s Case Files

by Ermintrude

See part one for disclaimers

Part 17

D.O.A. Delirious on Arrival March 18, 1985
Billy reviewed the medical report on Mrs. King. No apparent long-term effects or permanent damage from the poison Hans Retzig had put in Lee’s sandwich. That was good.

Billy was immensely pleased they had nabbed Hans Retzig. That man had been a thorn in their side for way too long. It wasn’t his skill and successes that were so galling but his damnable arrogance in flaunting his exploits right under their noses time after time… The man was in secure custody, and going away for a long time. Forever, if Billy had his way.

Amanda had gotten in the way again—and ingested the poison meant for her partner, Scarecrow. In a way—it was good because it left Lee at full capability to find Retzig. But it was bad because his guilt once again became an issue in a case. That sandwich had been meant for Lee himself—and only because of a fluke had Amanda eaten it instead.

Billy thought about the manifestations of the drug Amanda had displayed while under its influence. Goofy golf he could understand—though how she managed to take out a water cooler with just a putter! That was some sort of slice! Her authoritative manner when she called him was another thing entirely. Usually she was pleasant and effacing when dealing with him—but that take-charge persona was something of a surprise. He knew she had it in her—and he was secretly pleased to see she could be tough and aggressive when she felt it was necessary. Of course—it was because of the drug’s influence she had acted that way—but the drug couldn’t manufacture behavior—just bring it to the surface. And if she didn’t have it in her—she couldn’t have acted that way.

So Amanda had the makings of a tough no-nonsense leader within her. If he could nurture that and allow her more autonomy now and again—maybe she would discover that part of herself and make use of it when the time was right. Bill smiled—even the bleakest occurrence could have a silver lining.



March 26, 1985
Billy Melrose was at his desk doing paperwork when there was a knock at the door. “Come.”

“Hey Billy, what’s up?” Larry Crawford strolled into his office.

Billy looked up. “Have a seat, Crawford. We need to talk.”

The man looked taken aback at the stern tone in his boss’ voice. “Sure. Whatever you want. But I can’t stay long. I have a meet with an informant in,” he checked his watch, “45 minutes.”

Billy sighed. Like he actually believed that. “Crawford, your work to date has been less than stellar. Hell, it’s been barely adequate.”
“What? I run the Q Bureau—I can’t crank ‘em out like your regular guys—I follow the weird leads and strange rumors. Sometimes they pan out—sometimes they don’t.”

“Lately you haven’t had much of anything that panned out.”

Crawford shrugged. “I can’t make up cases. I go with what I have—or don’t have.”

“You say you haven’t had any cases pan out—and yet you are putting in for informant cash—logging meets—you even conducted a stakeout last month.”

“That was trying to get a line on a Bolivian drug and weapons smuggler. Can I help it that the guy had been murdered in Ecuador three days before? I only found out he was dead the day after I did my surveillance of the hotel he was supposed to be staying at.”

“The Q Bureau was designed for an agent to be able to follow the weird cases, the strange rumors, the old stuff that just might pan out. You were placed there two years ago—and you did pretty well—up to the first of this year. Then your productivity dropped off a cliff.” Billy sounded exasperated.

“Like I said—I can’t manufacture the stuff—I just follow what’s out there.”

“Yet when I have a situation that calls for extra agents—you’re always unavailable. You don’t even keep regular hours, so I never know when you’ll be around.”

“I run that office by myself—you said in the beginning—the hours might not be regular. Sometimes I have to stakeout a place overnight. Occasionally I have to go out of town. If I had a partner, you might be able to count on having someone in the office most of the time during regular business hours.”

“The Q Bureau was designed to be run by one agent. You are free to get help from any of our support staff, and if you find something big—you can come to me for help or backup. You’ve always known that.”

“Maybe I could have Francine help me part-time. She’d be a whiz at the administrative end of it.” Crawford smiled suggestively.

“Francine Desmond is MY assistant. I need her down here—full time. And that’s another thing—your office is a mess. Ragmop told me he can hardly clean in there anymore. You’ve got to keep up on the filing and paperwork. I’m still missing your expense sheets from last month—and I’m guessing your expense sheets for March will be late—as usual.”

Crawford shook his head. “You can’t have it both ways—first you complain because I’m not clearing cases—now you’re complaining I’m not doing the scut work. I can do one or the other—but not both.”

“You used to be able to handle all of it—you used to do a good job. What happened?”

“When you limited the steno pool to unit work, you said I’d have to do my own filing and paperwork. And I did it—for a while. But then it started building up—and I had that Bulgarian restaurant to investigate—that took up a lot of time—but I did link their ambassador to that disgruntled actuary at State. That was a big one for me—if you remember.”

“Yes, and we’re all grateful—you were able to stop the man before he managed to pass any sensitive information to the Bulgarians. But that was last fall. You closed that case well before Christmas. It’s the end of March, man, and you’ve not done much of anything since.”

“Like I said, I can’t make up the work. Sometimes I get good leads, but I guess I’ve hit a dry spell lately.” Crawford seemed to not be taking Billy seriously.

“Fine, I can understand that—but then take the time to finish the paperwork and filing. That place is getting to be a mess. What if you need to find something? Right now, I don’t think you could.”

“I have a system, Billy. I can find stuff just fine.” Crawford was blasé.

Billy hated to do this sort of thing—but the man gave him no choice. “Be that as it may—I’m giving you an official warning. You’re on probation. You have 6 months to clean up your act. Get that office in order. Do the paperwork and get your filing and expense sheets up to date. Find some cases to work—and work them—and then solve them. That actuary was good work—but that was darn near the only case you cleared last year. I’m short-handed as it is and I need every agent doing their best to clear cases. We need to keep the solve rate up in the unit, or I’ll have admin. coming down here to find out why our productivity has dropped.”

“So that’s why I’m on probation—the brass have started crying again—and you’re taking it out on me.” Crawford sounded snide.

“I’m pointing out that your work is falling off—you aren’t doing your job—and you’re making more work for other people with your late paperwork and unavailability for outside assignments. You knew you’d have to help out with other cases now and again—but I haven’t seen hide nor hair of you since you closed that actuary case. So be aware—you are on a six-month probation. I expect your work to improve—I expect you to keep more regular hours—or at lest keep me informed when and where you are working so I can get ahold of you. And we’ll meet again in three months to review your progress. Do you understand?”

“Gee Billy—isn’t that a bit harsh?”

“You’ve left me no alternative. I have tried to talk to you for almost two weeks now. This the first time I’ve seen you since I sent you word we needed to talk. That sort of behavior can’t go on. Clean up that office—get your paperwork in on time—and start clearing a few cases—or would you rather come back to the field unit?”

“No—I’ll stay up in the Q Bureau.” He sighed heavily. “Fine—I’ll call my informant and cancel the meet. He probably didn’t have anything anyhow. I’ll go up there and do the paperwork—the filing and expense reports. I’ll even try to get my expense sheets for March in by the 2nd.”

“Fine—if you can manage to clean up your act—this won’t go into your permanent file. We’ll keep it between us. All right?”

“Thanks Billy—I won’t let you down. You can count on me.” He stood and left Billy’s office.

Billy sat and reviewed what had just been said. ‘Talk is cheap, Crawford. I want to see results. You used to be a decent agent—but I think the Q Bureau has made you lazy. Some people can work fine without direct constant supervision. Then there are those who need someone watching over their shoulder, to remind them when they are getting slack. You, Crawford, have gotten slack and lazy.’

‘This is the part of the job that’s such a chore. Why should I have to ride herd on adults? Hopefully they realize they are here to do a job—and they’ll do it. I have to put up with so much whining, and bellyaching from people who should know better. I don’t make the work—we all know what we’re here to do. Everyone has to take the grunt assignments now and again. Everyone has to do their paperwork—that’s part and parcel of a bureaucracy—and the Agency is just another cog in the giant governmental bureaucracy that is the United Stated career civil service. Presidents may come and go—but the bureaucrats are here forever—at least until they can retire on their nice government pensions. Maybe one day, I can retire and put all this tedium behind me.’

He sighed and went back to work. ‘But until that day—I have my share of paperwork to do—and it never stops.’



You Only Die Twice April 1, 1985
Billy sat at his desk, filling out the forms concerning Sylvia Sampson's death. She had been a friend. It was always tough losing a friend. And now hopefully they could close her case—whatever it was. He was of a mixed mind. He had been devastated when Amanda King's name came across on the hot sheet that morning. Scarecrow had been devastated, too.

Billy had dreaded being there at the morgue—being forced to identify Amanda's body. But that was part of his job, and he was not going to shirk his duties—even the unpleasant ones. He needed to be present with Scarecrow—because he was not at all sure how his best agent would react to seeing his partner's corpse. And when it turned out to be Sylvia and not Amanda lying there—he could easily forgive Lee for the joy he expressed at discovering Amanda was not dead.

But Billy's heart was heavy. Sylvia was a friend—and it was always tough to lose friends that way. But that was the nature of the business—and why you didn't cultivate too many close friendships on the job. Lee and Amanda were very close friends—maybe even more than friends—though certainly not lovers. That wasn't Amanda's style. Good thing, because partners weren't supposed to be 'involved.' But two people could be involved and not be lovers. And Lee Stetson and Amanda King were very involved with each other—they just had chosen to express it in a different way.

He wondered if he had made a mistake—pushing Amanda on Scarecrow—making him work with her. Well, that was water under the bridge. What was done, was done, and now he had to deal with the reality of their partnership. However it played out. And they had a fantastic solve rate—so the partnership was probably worth the potential pitfalls. And maybe they would stay lucky, and both would continue to survive and thrive—when others fell by the wayside. He could only hope.



Before Burn Out April 8, 1985
Billy and Lee were in Billy's office, with the blinds drawn.

"We need to get someone into this operation. Someone inside can find out a whole lot more than we have been able to in the past few years." Billy was outlining his plan.

"Yeah, I hear you. But to get someone inside, we need someone who was recruited...someone who's been demoted or fired. Someone who's burnt out."

"Exactly, Scarecrow. And you are a perfect candidate for the job."

"Me? How could I get fired? I'm no burnout, I'm doing a great job!"

"Yes, and that's why we need to build a case, over time. You need to hit the bars more, have a more active night life, come in late more often."

"I make it on time...mostly...more than I'm late, anyhow."

Billy gave Lee a 'tell that to someone who believes it' look, and pressed on. "Your lifestyle lends itself to a quick slide into burnout. And it will have to be a quick slide. I hope that a few weeks will be enough for you to totally screw things up for yourself. We can arrange for a few blown assignments—nothing vital—a few small things. And I'll keep you off any major assignments, though we won't let that out to the rest of the unit."

"Ah, Billy, there's one small problem with your plan... "

"Amanda."

"Yeah, Amanda. She's not gonna let me fail. And not telling her will be difficult..."

"It's imperative that everyone—including Mrs. King—believes this is real. So she must be kept in the dark."

"Yeah. Any chance we can send her away somewhere?"

"What about her family? She can't just leave on a solo vacation—and it’s the middle of the school year, so she can't take her boys out of school. She’s done that once already—her free trip to Munich last fall. The school won’t go for that again so soon"

Lee nodded dejectedly. "Yeah, I hear you. Hitting the bars and staying out late on dates won't be difficult—but keeping Amanda King from trying to save me from myself—that's going to be the hard part. She's going to be all over me, trying to get me to clean up my act."

"I'll see if I can't loan her to another department for a week or two. Her clerical skills are strong, so she'd do well anywhere we place her. She'll be at the Agency, but maybe not being around the field unit will keep her at a reasonable distance. And I can keep her busy with paperwork here as well. You shouldn't have to come into close contact with her until the end, if we play this right."

"You don't know Amanda King if you think that will stop her once the rumors start flying. And we want lots of rumors on this, right? We want my burnout to become common knowledge here and outside the Agency as well."

"You're right. Do what you can, and I'll do my part to keep her away from you as long as I can manage it. Hopefully by the time she starts taking action, you'll be so far gone, that you'll be considered a lost cause."

"That won't stop Amanda."

"No, but it's not just Amanda we're trying to convince. It's whoever is running this organization."

Lee nodded. "All right. I'll start tonight. But you've got to keep Amanda away from me for a few days at least." Lee shook his head. "The things I do for my country..."

Billy smiled. "The country appreciates your sacrifice. Go on, I'll start arranging for those blown assignments. And have a long lunch—hopefully with lots of alcohol. That sort of thing always starts tongues wagging."
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