Date: Sun, 27 Sep 2015 21:28:00 -0400
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Who Killed Koch Robin 6

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.