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HandBright2276 t1_iwfiojz wrote

“How did you do it?” I asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He responded, angrily.

“Cut the bullshit man,” I stated. “You know why you’re here. Sitting in this room. I know you’re thinking that somehow I know. The only thing you don’t know is why IM the one sitting across from you.”

“I. Don’t. Know. What. You’re. Talking. About.”

Maybe. Maybe there was the slightest chance he didn’t know. Maybe he was just dumb enough to not think anyone would ever find out. Except I did. Because of my special gift. And someone higher up had to know too, otherwise I wouldn’t be here talking to him. I would have never had the power to question him like this without permission.

“Is this some Mulan type thing or what?” I said, with a soft chuckle.

And then I saw it. That look. For just a split second he gave it away. I knew then, in that moment, he knew what I was talking about.

“You’re wasting your time questioning me. Theres nothing to find.” He said.

I momentarily wondered if he was giving me an answer, or if he was still playing dumb, and decided to toss the distraction and continue questioning him.

“Okay, I’ll play your game then,” I said. I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a big zero on it. “Explain this to me then. How is it that you, a decorated war hero, who has been on the news multiple times might I add, has the same kill count as a toddler fresh out of the womb?”

I slid the paper towards him, and again saw that look on his face. His facade was fading fast, he was getting vulnerable. Just where I wanted him to be.

“Bullshit.” He said. “I’ve got 200 confirmed kills.”

“Put your hands on the table sir.” I said, not wanting to waste my time listening to his lies. He slowly picks his hands up from under the table, and rests them palms down on the cold metal surface. I pulled out a trigger mechanism from my bag. Just something I brought along to help me close the deal on this specific case.

“Do you shoot right handed or left handed?” I asked, while setting the trigger mechanism on its steel base.

“Right handed.” He replied slowly, with a slight slur to his words. Good, I finally caught a slur. Maybe his secret medication is wearing off? Either way, more evidence for me.

“I want you to pull this trigger as many times as you can in three seconds.” I said to him, sliding the training tool towards his right hand.

He obliged, with a confused look on his face. I pulled out a stopwatch. “3…2…1…Go”

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Only 4 trigger pulls in 3 seconds. Way below average for a man of his status. “Sir, do you know how many rounds the average person can fire in under a second?” I asked.

“No.” He replied dully.

“Well according to FBI research, the average person can fire 3 rounds in under a second. They also found that trained shooters can almost double that number. So its pretty peculiar to me that you are only able to pull 4 shots in 3 seconds. Being the trained shooter that you must be and all.” I stated, watching his eyes the whole time.

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HandBright2276 t1_iwfiqfg wrote

“I’m a sniper. I don’t train to shoot fast. I train to shoot precisely.” He said, still looking down at the trigger mechanism. Was it guilt? Did he know he was caught? Was that why he wouldn’t look me in my eyes? Or was he trying to come up with his next string of lies? I kept watching for any noticeable signs. He had tucked his hands back under the table, almost as if he was trying to hide them from me.

“Do you really train at all Mr.Jacobson? Or are you making lies to cover up your big secret?” I asked.

“I have 200 confirmed kills.” He repeated, as if repeating the same lie was going to make my line of questioning stop.

“Do you really? Or do you just enjoy the fame sir? You know, I did quite a bit of research into your past. You’ve been married for 18 years. Pretty impressive for a man with multiple tours under his belt. And you were active for how long during those 18 years?” I asked.

“We got married after my first three years in the service.” He said.

He started fidgeting. I could see the muscles in his forearms twitch slightly, indicating that he was rubbing his fingers together, or possibly tapping the underside of the table. A sign of nervousness. Bingo. He knew he was caught.

“And if I recall correctly your first three years were spent in Fort Wainwright, correct? Three years in Alaska, with no deployments. Am I correct in my statement?” I asked.

“Yes thats correct.”

“Now whats peculiar to me is that after those first three years, you were moved to Fort Benning. You moved off post to live with your wife, and you were supposed to go on a deployment for two years in Afghanistan around this time, correct?”

“I did go on that deployment.” He said, angrily.

“I never said you didn’t sir, just implied that you were supposed to. Now could you tell me why, in the two years that you were gone, your wife had no new employment history, in-fact she had no employment during those two years at all. Didn’t purchase anything new with the extra money you should have been getting, except for a few things during the first month of that deployment that she purchased in Kuwait. Around the same time and location that your unit would have been doing their pre-deployment readiness. Isn’t that peculiar?”

He stared at me with a blank expression, most likely surprised that I dug as deep as I did. I wouldn’t have gotten the reputation I have as a detective if I didn’t do my homework. He should have expected this when he saw me standing in the room when he walked in.

“You probably told her not to use her personal bank over there didn’t you? But you didn’t tell her fast enough. Im sure you didn’t think anyone would ever question it. Did you have her call her bank as well, and tell them she would be out of country on a vacation of sorts, so they wouldn’t raise red flags? Because I found the account notes from the bank as well. And what is even more peculiar to me is that during every tour you had overseas, her bank would make a note that she was going on a ‘long term vacation.’ Seems pretty obvious to me whats going on here. But just incase you don’t think I’ve got enough evidence on you to claim stolen valor, lets dive into your secret medical history shall we?”

He looked as if he was going to start crying. His eyes got red and puffy. Probably a mixture between anger and distress. They always make that look when I’m about to close the deal.

“20 years ago,” I stated while pacing the room, giving an extended pause for added suspense. “you were diagnosed with a very early stage of Parkinson’s disease. Among the youngest ever to be diagnosed, at 24 years old. Thats stressful I’m sure, being young, full of life, and then all of a sudden getting told you’ll be dependent on medication for the rest of your life. I feel for you I truly do. But somehow, you joined the military, and as a sniper nonetheless. Arguably a role that requires such precise handling, that you couldn’t possibly be competent enough to complete it successfully, given your diagnosis and all.” Bombshell dropped. He was done for and he knew it. He raised his hands to his face, shaking ever so slightly. I couldn’t tell if it was the Parkinson’s or the distress. But I wasn’t done. I had to make him suffer just a little bit more. I had one final question before I would accept any confessions from him.

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HandBright2276 t1_iwfis4b wrote

“My last question to you, now that you know it’s over, how did you make it through MEPS? What doctor did you pay off to hide your medical history? The people who hired me want to know, so they can prevent this from happening again.”

I waited for a response. Finally, with a shaky voice, he started his confession.

“I had no bad intentions. I never intended to go as far as I did. My family has a history of being in the military and I didn’t want to disappoint them. In the beginning it was simple really. I told my doctor I wanted to go into the military and he recommended me not to, but I was firm on my decision, and offered him $5000 to fix the paperwork and hide the medications. Just in case. I got to the recruiting station and didn’t say a word about my medication, or my diagnosis. They tell you to lie at MEPS anyways to prevent any elongation of your process, which made it even easier. So I went through like everyone else did, and I made sure to hide some pills with me when I went for the overnight trip. I passed, and got a ship date for basic training. I knew I had to be smart enough to hide my pills for training, so I paid off my doctor again for a 3 month supply of pills, and told him I would contact him after basic with another payoff for pills for my AIT. He knew it was risky for him, but I offered him big payouts for these pill supplies. $15,000 for each 3 month supply he gave me. I knew in the long term the military would pay me enough money for me to forget about those payoffs, and I wasn’t dumb with my money so I had a good amount in savings anyways. I ended up crushing all of the pills and hiding them in uniform pockets and under the soles of boots, places that were very seldom checked. I was very secretive about it and after the first week I figured out the perfect amount to take to equal one pill. I stayed on my Ps and Qs so that the drill sergeants would never question me, and I performed to the best of my ability. After training it got easy again. I would find civilian doctors and pay them off to hide the paperwork and documentation of meds, and continued this every time I moved stations. Once I met my wife, I knew I couldn’t hide it from her. So I told her everything, and she offered to help. She took my place on deployments, and played the Mulan role like you said earlier. She would wait till all the other guys were asleep to shower, things like that. She was never gifted with curves so it made blending in easier for her. And being a sniper in the field, other soldiers seldom see you anyways. After the first tour she enjoyed it so much that she offered to continue taking my place until we could find a more permanent solution. When they would return I would go back to my duties as normal, and attend the awarding ceremonies that took place, accept the medals that truly belonged to my wife, and lived out a career in the military until I decided to be done.” He finished, with a sigh. Desperation? Embarrassment? Who knew. I was just happy to have a recorded confession.

“How?” He asked.

“How what?” I replied.

“How did you know? How were you so confident that it wasn’t me who got those kills?” He asked.

“Well you see sir, I have a gift. A very special gift. And when I was old enough to understand the concept of money, I realized that life had given me an unfair advantage. An exotic lemon that nobody else possessed, if you will. And I realized that if I didn’t plant those lemon seeds, and sell them to the highest bidders, I would be wasting my gift. But just know, all I need to do to put away a murderer…or in this case, a non-murderer… is look at them.” I said.

“But what is your gift?” He asked, quietly.

I leaned over the table slowly, looked him in the eyes and said with a smirk, “Now if I told you, I’d have to hire your wife to make it 201.”

— Case Closed —

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