But this day would be anything but typical. Just after lunch, a black SUV with darkened windows was crossing the bridge over the Ohio River into downtown on its way in from the airport.
After crossing the bridge, the vehicle turned onto Pete Rose Way and pulled up in front of its destination, the IRS building.
Parking in front, two goons in dark suits and sunglasses jumped out and opened the rear door. Two men climbed out. One was Dick Holder, the ace investigator of the Department of Justice, a man who was a legend in Washington. Holder had a long history of famous cases under his belt including the Susan Rice murder case, Marc Rich, and the FALN Puerto Rican terrorists. The other man had no name. All anybody knew was that he was from the State Department's dreaded Accountability Review Board more commonly known by its acronym, ARB.
As bystanders stood frozen in their tracks, the men walked into the cavernous lobby of the IRS building, where a portrait of Pete Rose, Cincinnati's most prominent native, loomed over the foyer.
Proceeding up the elevator, they flashed their badges. They were expected. A nervous receptionist ushered them into the interview room.
"Where is Ms. Peabody?" Dick Holder asked as his two goons stood along the wall, their arms crossed. The ARB man took up a position in a chair in the corner of the room..
"She will be right in, Sir."
The woman that Dick Holder and the ARB man were there to see was IRS Rogue Agent Myrtle Peabody, 64, a case officer assigned to review applications for tax -exempt status. It was she who had been identified as the person who had been denying or holding up Tea Party applications, which had led to complaints from Republicans in Congress.
In less than a minute, Ms Peabody entered the room. She was clearly terrified.
"Sit down, Ms Peabody," Dick Holder ordered.
She did as she was told taking a seat directly facing Dick Holder.
"Before I begin," Dick Holder began, "I want to advise you of your rights. You have the right to smoke and to use the bathroom. Do you understand your rights?"
"Y,Y, Yes Sir."
"Fine. Let's get started." Lighting a cigarette, he offered one to Ms Peabody.
"Thank you. I don't smoke."
"Do you need to use the bathroom?"
"No Sir."
"Then you have waived your rights and must answer my questions," Dick Holder said holding his cigarette between his thumb and index finger like Peter Lorre used to do in those old Nazi movies.
"Who told you to hold up all those Tea Party applications, Ms Peabody?"
"It was Lois Lerner, Sir," Peabody answered nervously, looking over at the ARB man sitting ominously in the corner.
"I don't believe you," Dick Holder scowled. "You did it on your own, didn't you?"
"No, Sir. I swear."
"Tell me the the truth or I will have to turn you over to my friend from the ARB."
At that, Ms Peabody broke into tears. "I swear. It was Lois Lerner in Washington. She made me do it. I'm just a humble case officer. Why would I do that on my own? Surely you must have seen the e-mails?"
Dick Holder took a drag on his cigarette and cast a knowing glance over to the ARB man sitting silently in the corner.
"Oh yes. The e-mails. Isn't it possible you, ah, misinterpreted those e-mails?"
"No, Sir. They were quite clear. I was just following orders."
Dick Holder reached down into his briefcase.
"Have you ever met Ms Lerner?"
"No Sir, but I have seen her picture in those IRS monthly newsletters when she is receiving awards."
"Ah yes," replied Dick Holder laying a paper on the desk. "Then perhaps you can pick her out of this photo spread."
"I'm sure I can," said Ms. Peabody. She took the paper with a series of photos and scrutinized them carefully.
"I'm sorry, but I don't see her."
"Thank you, Ms Peabody. That will be all." At that Dick Holder and the ARB man rose and walked out of the room followed by the two goons. Ms Peabody sat in her chair bathed in sweat.
The four men went straight to the elevator, rode down into the cavernous lobby, and walked out the door under the huge photo of Pete Rose.
They jumped into their SUV and rode back across the bridge into Kentucky heading to the Cincinnati airport.
Dick Holder grabbed the mic and talked into the radio.
"Case closed. We're on on our way home."
"10-4," a voice answered from the radio.
Meanwhile, back at the IRS building, Ms Peabody walked out the front door clutching her purse. It was now 4:30 pm-just before Happy Hour. She turned left and walked down to the corner sports pub, a place she rarely frequented. The evening crowd had not yet arrived. There were two men seated at the opposite side of the circular bar.
"Rained out."
Up on the wide screen, Keith Olbermann, the ex-MSNBC anchor, was giving the ball scores and making fun of all the players who had made errors that day.
"Starlin Castro. Have you no shame?"
The bartender came over.
"Myrtle, haven't seen you in a spell. What'll you have?"
"I'll have a Hoodie. Make it two. And give those two gentlemen over there whatever they're drinking."
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