Who Killed Koch Robin 6 By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you do not like that, DO NOT read it! You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, and is not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual. I have made no effort to portray safe sex practices. If you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com
I was beginning to focus on King Cole and his associates. The number of men connected to King Cole who were involved in Lance's assault was unusual. Lance was new to town and had no connections here. Koch's murder was his first case.
If King Cole were involved, it would become a media sensation. The Department liked that because it showed off the skills and competence of the Department. I tried to treat every suspect the same way. For me King Cole was a problem. He had a staff of lawyers covering his tail. I would need to cross every "T" and dot every "I."
It was also possible that an overzealous staffer had killed Koch to impress the boss. He could have mentioned that someone should "handle" the problem. That might give him plausible deniability.
Donna was still in the picture. She had seemed distraught at the funeral. I had seen that many times before and I didn't think she was faking her distress. Perhaps she was a better actor than I thought, but I had a lot of experience with hysterical women at funerals.
I went home late from the office and picked up Uncle Joe on the way home. I cooked some burgers and frozen French-fries. At 9:30, someone knocked on the door. It was Bubba. I introduced him to Joe and we talked. Maybe there is a secret handshake, but somehow Bubba and Joe realized they were both gay and willing.
I was tired and only wanted to get in bed. There must have been something in the air, and after a short while, I found myself thinking that a blowjob and an orgasm would really hit the spot before falling asleep. I told them I was going to take a shower and get some shut-eye.
Five minutes later we were all naked and in the bathroom. I had the feeling that Joe thought he had hit the jackpot. Bubba and I were both younger and in better shape than his usual playmates. Joe bent over to suck me, opening his ass as he did. Maybe Bubba wasn't experienced, but he knew what an open ass meant.
I am never sure of myself in sexual situations. I assumed Joe wanted it, but would never had made the move myself. Bubba had correctly analyzed the situation and Joe was pleased as punch; he obviously loved it. I had a quiet and restful night as the two men enjoyed themselves.
The next morning's newspaper announced the Donna had contributed her entire inheritance to Koch's charities. The paper emphasized that she donated every penny.
An hour later, I had a call from Mrs. Robin.
"Donna told me that she knew one of the men who attacked your partner. She is distraught. She liked dating bad boys. I think it was game to annoy us. Well, that Rooster creature was much more than a bad boy," Mrs. Robin said. "Donna's worst characteristic is treating people as toys and playing with them. She has done it for years, and she has few friends left. She has no real boyfriends. Most of her former beaus will not even talk to her. Donna never got a long with Koch. She was jealous and mean."
"She needs to talk to you about Rooster. He had never met Koch, but she is uneasy. No, that is not right. She is terrified Rooster is involved and that she may have inspired him," Mrs. Robin said. "I hope you will be careful with her. She in on the edge of a breakdown."
I said that I was always careful. That is not 100% true, but it is close.
"I need to tell you something that is an awful thing to say about your child," Mrs. Robin continued. "When I talked with her, I had the impression she was telling me the truth for the first time in years. Since she was ten or twelve, I have always known she was lying or hiding something. She could wrap her daddy around her finger, but I suspected she was playing a game. This time I had the strange feeling that she was telling the truth."
"I hate to ask you this, but is there any chance this was murder for hire?" I asked.
Mrs. Robin was silent for a while. "I doubt it. My husband can be gullible about some things, but never financial matters. Our accountants oversee Donna's finances. She can spend on anything she wants, but we know where every penny goes," she said. "Donna is unaware that we know. If she did know she would spend very differently." I thanked her for that information.
I felt that another conversation with my college professor friend Owen McMaster was in order. He seemed to know more about King Cole's operation that anyone else. I called him and he told me he would be free at 11:00. We could talk and have lunch.
I was on time and he was waiting. I asked him if King Cole would resort to violence.
"By violence do you mean murder?" he asked. I nodded.
"If you asked if he would, steal, embezzle, betray or swindle, I would answer 100% in the affirmative. He is a con artist, treachery is at his very core," Owen said. "I'm not sure about murder."
"Even if it means losing everything he has and ruin his reputation?"
"I assume he had a nest egg stashed away in foreign bank accounts. He could live well if he can get away in time. Reputation means nothing to him," Owen said. "There is a chance that someone might be killed accidentally. That is a possibility."
"Koch wasn't killed accidentally and Lance survived only because the attack was interrupted," I said. "Neither was an accident." We then discussed the members of Cole's organization who might be partial to murder.
"Clinton, Carlton Stark and Elroy Bean are all capable of violence. Clinton would be more likely to give an order than to do it himself. Carleton and Elroy would enjoy it," Owen said. "Did I mention Joel Master, the gay conversion man? One of Cole's lackeys gave him the sack a few days ago. Joel was very unhappy about that. You might talk with him."
"Is Joel the virgin with the lubricated asshole?" I asked.
"The very same," Owen replied. "If you run into him, I do have one helpful hint. He gets more talkative and indiscreet when there is some pressure applied to his prostate. The more the pressure the more open he becomes."
"How did you discover that little morsel of information?" I asked with a smile.
"Poor Joel is so uptight shoving something up his ass is the only way for him to relax. I was being charitable on his behalf," Owen said. "I was good for me too. By the way, I did take the liberty of asking him to join us for lunch today."
I was surprised and thought I might leave, but the doorbell rang. It was Joel. Owen was obviously working on his own addenda. While I was uneasy about that, Joel was potentially a good source and if I rejected him that might that impossible.
Joel was stunningly clean cut and bland. He was pale and his hair was so blond it was almost white. Joel looked at Owen with lust in his pale, watery blue eyes. He wore a Polo shirt and khaki pants that were too tight. He was already semi-hard. I assumed the prospect of sex with Owen must have inspired him.
Owen introduced me as a police officer, Brick McTavish, and said I was looking into Koch Robin's murder. He had heard of the murder, but he did not have any reaction to that.
"I am interested in King Cole's operation," I said. "Owen tells me that you are much involved with it." I readjusted my balls discretely. Joel noticed.
"I was more than involved," he said and then he began to rant. "He ditched me. He just fired me with no notice and no severance pay. I worked for him for ten, fucking years. He didn't even have the guts to face me. Elroy fired me. He is just a hired hand. He told me to get out now or I would regret it. Elroy told me that King Cole owed him big time. He would be moving up the ladder and into the executive suite and I was out!" He continued along in this manner for about five minutes.
"Why don't we go upstairs? Someone could look in the window and see you talking with a cop," Owen said. Joel looked surprised and then frightened. Apparently, Joel thought the possibility of payback was real. We went upstairs.
"Brick is off duty, you know," Owen said, "He likes some of the same things we do. Why don't we play some and relax."
"With a policeman?" Joel asked.
"Have you ever had a policeman get inside you?" Owen asked. "Brick is a big boy. He would fill you completely."
Owen began to unbutton his shirt. I did the same as Joel removed his shirt. When Owen and Joel stripped, both were fully erect. I was not as hard as they were, but I was close enough. Joel did not play hard to get. He was soon on the bed, on his back and he had pulled up his legs and spread, exposing his delicate, pink hole.
Owen had lubricant ready and quickly applied a coat on my cock. As my cock head approached Joel's hole, he shivered and moaned a little. He spread his legs wider and I could see lubricant glistening in the pucker. Owen had told me Joel was prepared. He moaned when my knob touched it.
He was tight and resisted even as he was begging me to go deep. His sphincter must have had a different plan. I made a hard thrust. Joel winced in pain, but I was in. His cock spurted a little when I made the hard thrust. It was precum not sperm, but he was excited. Joel's cock seemed to become harder as I slid into him.
"Do you know King Cole's son, Junior?" I asked.
"I've met him a few times. They say he doesn't have the right stuff to inherit the broadcasts," Joel said. "Clinton told me that Junior had bad friends."
"What did he mean by bad friends?" I asked.
"Arty types, hippies I guess. They were not good Christian types. They like everyone to be an absolute straight arrow, clean-cut and prone to pray in public," he replied. "They wanted him to get married and have kids. Apparently, that wasn't going to happen or at least not anytime soon."
I had not heard anyone mention hippies in years. Joel was in a strange time warp. He kept on talking and moaning when I hit a good spot. His conversation was continuous. He saw himself as a straight arrow and was ultra-conservative politically and sexually. If you were tape-recording him, you would have no clue that I was fucking him to heaven and back. While his body was sexually engaged and enthusiastic, his mouth was spewing born-again drivel.
I wondered if he had a split personality. His mind seemed to be one person, but his body was another. I was getting close to shooting, so I pulled out and let Owen take a turn. Joel looked disappointed until Owen's cock vanished in his ass.
Luckily, Joel remained talkative as Owen worked him over. My mind had trouble keeping focused as I fucked him. It was easier to think clearly, when Owen was in him.
"Was Junior dating anyone?" I asked.
"No one that I know of. There were a few comments that he was dating a dancer, but I don't know if that was true. Elroy is pretty much full of shit anyway," Joel said. "He claims he is the muscle protecting us from danger. There isn't much danger being a talk show host and motivational speaker. Then biggest problem is middle-aged women who fall in love with King Cole. They can be a pest. Elroy says a good fuck would cure whatever is wrong with them."
"If they wanted a sex cure. King Cole could do them good. He wears boxer shorts and sometimes you can see the outline of his meat. It looks like a Polish sausage," Joel said.
"There has been something up recently. The upper tiers of the organization have been acting oddly. Clinton has been distracted. That is unusual for him. Elroy and Carlton had been uneasy. I think they had decided to fire me and were trying to figure out who would do the dirty deed," Joel continued. Joel saw everything only as it related to him personally. He was self-centered and did not seem to notice things that did not concern him.
Owen lost control and shot the contents of his balls into Joel's ass. He pulled out and I re-entered. I had been close before. After Owen shot off, I suddenly felt as I was all dressed up with nowhere to go. Joel's ass provided an obvious destination. Screwing Joel had been okay before, but with Owen's fresh load in the ass it was a lot better. Joel's ass was both tight and slippery. Somehow, with Owen's sperm lubricating the way, my cock and Joel's rectum had a great time. My sperm eventually joined Owen's man seed. I forgot to ask any more questions. I pulled out. Owen had recharged, and reentered Joel. I got up and dressed.
"I do have to get back to work," I said. Joel and Owen were busy. I am not sure they noticed I was gone.
When I got back to the office, the computer guys were still at work. Dianna gave me a report. Rooster had a $10,000.00 deposit from a CKCorp. That was a subsidiary of King Cole's organization. The CKCorp supposedly made videos for the operation. Rooster was an unlikely star. His sidekicks each had a $1,000.00 check from Rooster's personal account. They dated from the day after Koch's murder.
You rarely pay for hit men with a check. Either someone messed up, or they thought that the connection between Koch's death and King Cole was so distant no one would look. King Cole's financial operations were exceedingly complex and complicated. Our department employed a first rate forensic accountant, Murry Markowitz. Murry had the personality of a wet dishcloth, and the tenacity of a bloodhound. He always got his man. He was a small, heavy man who wore an ill-fitting suit and could not seem to remember to comb all of his hair in the morning. I went to see him.
"You are interested in King Cole! I thought you would drop by. You think he may be connected to the Koch boy?" he asked.
"That is supposed to be secret," I said.
"There are no secrets here; I looked into the boy's finances and into King Cole. The boy lived modestly, given his wealth. His accountants are old school. They accounted for every penny properly. He had a little foundation on the side that made grants to needy students, and some small loans. These were mostly made to needy students," he said, "I don't think they knew the grants were from Koch."
"His sister is a different kettle of fish. There is a trust fund of several million set up for her. She does not have access to the principal. The interest gives her between $250,000.00 and $300,000.00 a year spending money," Murry continued. "She buys a car or two a year, which uses up $100,000.00. She spends $50,000.00 on clothes. He father gives her most of her jewelry."
"There are some mystery expenditures," he added. "They could be for drugs or gambling. She visits resorts often and usually brings friends. The resorts are expensive, but paying for damages afterward is usually her biggest cost. The accounts are a tribute to a misspent life."
"King Cole has very clever, modern type accountants. I might describe them as co-conspirators, rather than accountants. It is very complex. They claim most of his income is given to charity. In most cases, King Cole owns the charity. The overhead costs in these charities is stunning. It is all borderline legal. Cole also has expensive lawyers," he said. Maury had just started working on the four suspects finances.
I went back to my desk and then discussed the case with the Chief. I decided to put Clinton, Carlton and Elroy under surveillance.
I had a call from Owen asking me to drop by on my way home. When I came by, he had a visitor. I knew his visitor, or more correctly, I knew of him. It was Jeff Mead, the former coach of the local university's football team.
Jeff was a local institution, but had retired after a major heart attack three years before. I thought Owen asked me over because he thought Jeff was my type. I soon found out I had that wrong. I was Jeff's type. While Owen and Jeff played some, Owen thought Jeff and I would really hit it off.
"I was planning to have cocktails and then screw around some. Does that offend anyone?" Owen asked.
"That's okay with me, but could we switch it around and mess around first and eat after?" Jeff asked.
"That is fine with me," I said. Jeff was hot to trot and enthusiastic. He was skilled too. When I mentioned that, he said it was due to practice, not natural skill. I had a feeling he had used that line on his team members a few hundred times. He turned out to be an appreciative bottom too. I did not expect that.
Owen later told me that as a football coach Jeff's first rule to keep his hands off the players. He obeyed the rule. Now that he was retired, he was attracted to men with football players' body types. He wanted bodies he could touch, fondle and suck.
My body has all the grace of a brick. That translated in to being a tackle in Jeff's mind. Jeff was a solid man, but is cock was standard length and rather thin. He had an almond shaped cock head and a wide slit. Big cocks may be more inspirational, but his was easy to deep throat and was ultra-responsive. He was pumping out pre cum and I loved it. I had noticed that with Bubba too.
I wondered why I was enjoying it so much, and realized I had a taste for precum. I had not noticed that before.
Jeff was a big, aggressive man as a coach. He had an aura of power and control. Sexually he was a pussycat. He wanted to lie back and take it. Sex was relaxing for him. He was also affectionate and comfortable. I sat on his cock. It slid in easily and his knob rubbed my prostate just the right way. He was hard as steel. I could grip it with my sphincter and then rotate it in a way that rubbed all the good places.
I also lifted up and then grabbed his knob with my sphincter and massaged it. That drove him crazy. When I sat back, Jeff had a spectacular climax as it slid into me. It coated every inch of my rectum with his man seed. He told me later that he had never experienced that before.
Unexpectedly he knew King Cole well too. Cole had a periodic segment on sports, and Jeff was a guest. Jeff knew football forwards and backwards, and many of Cole's listeners were into football too. He did not like Cole much.
"Cole wanted me to help form an organization of straight athletes. Quite frankly, if a man can play ball, I don't give a shit who he messes with," he said. "His plan was to form a group that would certify that a team was fag free. He wanted to form the King Cole Football League. He dreamed of King Cole Stadiums scattered across the country. Stadiums filled with heterosexual white guys."
"Was he delusional?" I asked.
"That's what I thought, but I was wrong. Cole knew it was crazy, but he thought it would make money. He thinks there are men who loved the days before there were gays, or black men on a team for that matter," Jeff explained. "I told him I knew those men exist, but there can't be that many of them left. He told me that as long as the opened their wallets and he could make a profit, he was happy. He offered me ten percent of the take. I told him I had other plans. That was a year ago, he hasn't asked me back."
"I sell real estate on the side now. Cole's pal, Clinton, called me. He wanted to buy an island in the Caribbean. It had to be in the St. Simon's chain. I don't see that sort of thing so I sent him to another realtor," he added.
"Isn't that the chain that has no extradition treaty with the U.S.?" I asked.
"I think you are right about that," Jeff said.