Finally an old woman got the officers attention. “I seen the whole thing officer. I was crossing the street right behind that poor man when he got hit. Damn near hit me too.”
The officer prompted the old woman for further information. “Did you see what the driver looked like?”
She thought for a second and replied, “No, I didn’t see what they looked like, it all happened so fast. But I can tell you one thing. It didn’t look like they even tried to stop, to me.”
“Was it a man, a woman. What kind of car were they driving, ma’am?” The officer further inquired.
“It was an old car, green or blue, I‘m not sure. But I don’t know if it was a man or a woman to be honest with you,” the old woman continued.
A young black man stepped up and said he saw what happened. “ It happened like she said. An old green car came out of nowhere and ran that man down. They didn’t even try to stop, like she said. Ran that man down on purpose it looked like to me. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman either. Probably a man, but I can’t be sure.”
The officers thanked them after taking their statements. Really not much to go on they agreed. But it was clearly a hit and run, probably an attempted homicide or homicide if the poor man died
Blood stained the pavement where Frank had lay in horrible agony, his fate was in God’s hands now.
CHAPTER TEN
Detectives John Carson and Chuck Brown
The consensus was the incident was attempted murder. No way it was an accident. The uniforms had kicked it over to homicide for investigation. Detectives John Carson and Chuck Brown caught the case.
Detective John Carson was a twenty year veteran who had worked hundreds of cases around the San Diego and L.A. area. He was one of the first black police officers in the seventies who made detective. It was quite an accomplishment back in those days. Carson as he preferred to be called had worked his way up to detective first grade and had even taken the sergeants exam a couple of times.
He wasn’t exactly a stylish dresser, in fact he still sported some of the suits he wore when he first made detective. He had put on a few pounds over the years, just big boned, he always like to say. He kept a cigar dangling form his lips, sometimes lit, sometimes just hanging, for no particular reason. Carson just liked to chew on one, he said it relaxed him.
Charles Brown or Chuck as he liked to be called, was the antithesis of Carson, young, white, and well dressed. He was high tech savvy, unlike Carson who didn’t even know how to turn a computer on, much less how to use one. Chuck had just made detective a couple of years earlier. He had an excellent record when he was in uniform and Carson really liked having him for his partner. Chuck had learned a lot working with Carson, lessons they can’t teach you in school.
The two had worked together on a few high profile cases around town, the bond between the detectives was strong, in fact they felt proud to call each other a friend, as well as a partner.
That bright sunny San Diego day found the two standing at the intersection where Frank had been so callously run down, staring at the now blood crusted pavement. The sun was high in the cloudless sky, Chuck wore a pair of Ray Bans, Carson just squinted as they surveyed the scene.
“Chuck, looks like we got nothing here. No skid marks, just this shard of plastic, which could be from anybody’s car,” Carson opined.
“And the two witnesses the uniforms talked to couldn’t even say if the driver was a man or a woman, “ Chuck added.
“The only thing they agreed upon was it was an old car. That narrows it down to thousands of cars. Could be anybody.” Carson further added, chewing on his cigar.
“But more than likely it was somebody who knew the victim and had a reason to kill him. A little thing called motive. It’s the only thing we have to go on, Carson,” Chuck conceded.
“No shit, there Sherlock,” Carson said dryly, removing the cigar butt from his lips and spitting. “You came up with that brilliant conclusion all by yourself, did you?”
“I was just saying Carson, that it was probably someone the victim knew,” Chuck said feeling a little embarrassed.
“In your expert opinion, derived from your many years as a homicide detective, where do you think we should start looking for this person the victim knew? The one who wanted to kill him,” Carson said very sarcastically.
Chuck thought for a minute and finally said,” I guess his wife would be a good place to start.”
“Okay, the wife it is then Einstein,” Carson said shaking his head. “Let’s go, I’ll drive.
Chuck reluctantly handed Carson the keys, looking disappointed and dejected.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Hospital
Frank had been moved out of the operating room to the ICU, after they finally got him stabilized. He was still critical but the doctors were confident that he was going to pull through. He was hooked up to a full gambit of machines; ventilator, cardiac monitor, intravenous lines and a feeding tube. His left leg was broken , it was elevated , he had a mask fitted snuggly over his face. He had multiple bruises and contusions. He was alive, just barely, and thanks to the miracle of modern medicine.
Maria was at his side, sobbing, head in her hands. All the anger she had felt for him just two days prior had vanished. She didn’t know what she would do if she lost Frank, even if he was a bastard sometimes, she still loved him very much.
The monitors beeped, Maria pleaded, “Come on Frank, you can do it. Come back to us, Frank.” But his eyes were still tightly closed, she took his hand and squeezed it tenderly. She looked up briefly when a nurse came in the room to check his vitals.
The nurse asked compassionately, “Why don’t you go home and get some rest? There’s nothing you can do here. We’ll call if there’s any change.”
Maria didn’t want to leave, she wanted to stay with her husband, maybe he would come to, she wanted to be there if he did. The nurse finished up and left Maria and Frank alone again. She squeezed his hand a little harder. She said a silent prayer and waited.
She must have dosed off, for the next thing she knew the nurse was shaking her. She had visitors in the waiting room, they needed to speak with her, they said it was important. The nurse said they were from the police, detectives she thought.
Carson and Chuck were waiting in the lobby of the ICU when Maria walked in, rubbing sleep from her eyes. They had a look on their faces like they had a thousand questions, and Maria had the answer to all of them. They stood as she entered the room and introduced themselves. She looked confused. She took a seat, they all did.
Carson started the ball rolling. “Ma’am we’re sorry about your husband. Is he going to be all right?”
Maria, still groggy replied, “ Yes, the doctors think he’s going to live, but it’s still touch and go right now. What’s this all about detectives?”
“Well, ma’am, right now we don’t have any leads. We were hoping you might have some idea who might want your husband dead,” Chuck asked.
“You mean this wasn’t an accident. My God, you’re saying some one tried to kill Frank?
Carson continued, “It looks that way ma’am. Did Frank have any enemies, that you know of?”
Maria replied, “Heavens no, everybody loved my Frank. I can’t think of anyone who would want to kill him.”
She was giving all the right answers but still something didn’t seem quite right so Chuck felt compelled to ask, “We hate to ask you this ma’am, just routine, where were you at eleven o’clock this morning?”
Maria replied angrily, “Excuse me, where was I? My husband lies in the ICU clinging to life and you have the balls to ask me where the fuck I was. You think I had something to do with it?”
Carson continued, “Just a question ma’am, where were you? We’re just trying to rule you out as a suspect.”
Maria said still angry, “I’m a suspect, are you fucking kidding me. If I wanted to kill that bastard, I would just strangle him with my
bare hands or blow his brains out.” Maria got up mad as hell. She was through talking. “We’re done. If you have any more questions you can talk to my lawyer. Now get the hell out of here.”
The detectives made their apologies and left her a card. They departed not knowing what to think about Maria Desio, but they were going to check her out
They left the hospital scratching their heads and walked out to their car.
Carson started. “That’s one angry woman. It didn’t seem that way at first, but then she just snapped. Sign of a woman scorned.”
Chuck agreed. “She knows something. But what, is the question.”
“I guess we’d best find out, Chuck,” Carson said wryly.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Driver
The driver of the vehicle sat alone in a low budget motel. He looked at the telephone sitting on the old beat up nightstand. He peered out of a dirty curtain through an equally dirty window. No one had followed him, but he still had an uneasy feeling someone was watching.
He looked at the telephone again, wondering should he make the call. He was afraid to pick up the phone, not wanting to know the outcome of his horrendous deed. He would just sit there for a little while, what was the hurry.
Pulling a wad of bills out of his pant’s pocket, he lay them on the nightstand. He thought to himself it was a small price for someone’s life. Regret and sorrow overwhelmed him. In a moment of weakness he had agreed to do the deed. It seemed like he was possessed. He felt no real anger or hate towards his victim.
He pulled a bottle of pills out of his pocket, they meant more to him than his whole life. The hold they had on him was unexplainable, but undeniable. He held the bottle in his trembling hand for a moment then put it on the nightstand as well. He loved and hated the contents of the bottle, it enslaved him in a prison from which he could not escape.
Again he went to the window, that feeling that someone was watching him intensified. He began to sweat, even though the air condition was up full blast. He paced the small motel room like a caged animal. He thought he would explode.
The sound of a ringing telephone startled him and brought him suddenly back to reality. He just looked at it for a few seconds, too stunned to move. Finally he picked up the receiver.
“He’s still alive,” a voice said over the phone. “ He’s in the ICU at Scripps. You know what you have to do.” The person on the phone hung up abruptly without another word.
The failed driver looked at the phone, not knowing what to say or do next. He put the phone back on the hook. He sat down on the bed, head in his hands.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A Sum Total of Nothing
Detectives Carson and Brown, huddled in their office, trying their best to make sense out of the little information they had. “We’ve got a sum total of nothing here, Chuck. A man lying near death in the hospital, two witnesses that didn’t see anything but an old blue or green car, and an angry wife.”
“The angry wife Mrs. Desio is the most logical place to start. Usually in these cases the anger comes from marital infidelity. Many a man or woman has been killed by their spouses because of this one issue,” Chuck said as if he had a great revelation.
“God you’re so brilliant, Chuck. Let me write that down,” Carson said sarcastically.
“I’m just saying, a jealous wife is always a good suspect.”
“Well, we already talked to that bitch, she ain’t giving us Jack. She just lawyered up for Christ sake. In case you forgot.”
“Think about it Carson. If she didn’t have something to hide why would she get so pissed and start talking about getting a lawyer?”
Carson had to agree Chuck might be right. “Let’s dump her phone and find out who this lady has been talking to.”
The detectives noticed with great interest that she had made several calls to Dr. Bill Riley, especially in the days right before the attempt was made on her husbands life. In prior months there was a pattern of calls between the two as well. Very interesting.
Another thing the detectives found particularly intriguing . She had made several inquiries to the Prudential Insurance Company. It seemed that she had a “piece of the rock” on Mr. Desio worth a cool million dollars. The policy paid double in the event of accidental death. Sounded like a good motive for murder to the detectives.
She had the motive, but did she have the opportunity? Come to find out she was at the gym with a couple of friends when her husband was ran down. That’s not to say she didn’t pay someone else to do the deed. She had made a lot of phone calls to Riley. The detectives decided to put her as a suspect on the back burner. They would question her again later, but next they decided to go to Mr. Desio’s place of business to see what kind of dirt they could dig up.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Real Estate Office
Chuck and Carson’s next stop was Frank’s real estate office. They felt sure they would fine some answers there. Somebody was going to give it up before they left the office that day.
The office crew looked at the detectives like they owed them money when they walked in the door. Everyone turned away and hid in back offices if they could, like they knew a storm was coming and they were seeking shelter.
Sitting behind her desk the secretary asked the detectives as they came in, “Good morning gentleman, may I help you?” She knew who they were and what they wanted, but she still asked the question.
Flashing their badges Carson replied, “Yes ma’am I’m Detective Carson and this is Detective Brown. We need to talk to everyone that works in this office about the attempted murder of Mr. Frank Desio. Since Mr. Desio is not here, who would be the next in charge?”
“That would be Mr. Knight, I’ll call him.,” answered the secretary. She gave him a call in his back office and in a few moments he appeared.
“I’m Sam Knight, what can I do for you gentleman?” Sam shook the detectives’ hands as they introduced themselves and they went to his office to talk privately. Sam was a very personable man in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair and expensive designer glasses. He wore a suit that probably cost more than the detectives made in a month. He had one of those business man’s hand shakes, the kind politicians use when they’re trying to get your vote, and a smile to match.
“I’m sure you are aware that Mr. Desio was ran over yesterday a few blocks from here. But you may not be aware of the fact that it has been determined it was no accident,” Chuck informed Sam.
Sam replied somewhat shocked, “Oh my God, are you serious? I had no idea. How can I be of assistance to your investigation?” His tone of voice seemed a little less surprised than his words but not entirely disingenuous. He sat down in his chair and motioned for the detectives to have a seat.
“We need to speak to all the agents and the office staff individually. We know it is a big inconvenience, but it has to be done,” Chuck explained. “If Mr. Desio had any enemies here, we need to hear about them.”
Sam replied, but not very convincingly, “Frank didn’t have any enemies here. Everybody loved Frank.” Again his demeanor and body language betrayed his words.
Carson quickly answered, “Well he had one. The one that ran him down and maliciously tried to kill him. So somebody needs to start telling the truth. It is against the law to lie to the police and impede an ongoing investigation. So if you know something, you need to tell us now.”
Sam lowered his head and finally conceded, “Okay, okay. It’s going to come out sooner or later. Frank was having an affair with one of the secretaries here, Jennifer Kinsley. Her husband, Buster, is very jealous, and a bad ass psycho. I warned Frank he needed to leave her alone, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“We’re looking for someone who drives an old model blue or green car,” Chuck interjected. “Does this Jennifer’s husband drive a car fitting the general description?”
“I really couldn’t say,” Sam said apologetically. “I don‘t know what kind of car h
e drives. Jennifer drives a late model Honda Accord.”
Carson inquired, “Could we speak with Jennifer, Mr. Knight?”
Again apologizing, Sam replied, “I’m afraid she’s off today, called in sick. I have her address though.”
The detectives took her address and also called all the agents and office staff in one by one. No one drove an old blue or green car or had seen a car fitting that description hanging around the office.
No one knew about Frank’s affair with Jennifer or they weren’t talking. The consensus was he had no enemies and the thought of someone trying to kill him was unconscionable.
Carson and Chuck thanked Sam Knight and set off to pay Jennifer and her husband a visit.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Frank
Frank’s eyes opened partially, slowly, then closed, flickering in the dim light of his ICU room. Maria was still standing vigil at his side, like a good soldier, the good loyal wife. She did not see his eyes open at first. Her eyes were closed as well, swollen from hours of remorseful tears. She couldn’t believe, as she had sat there watching Frank cling to life, she had ever wanted him dead. She loved him so much, she could never be mad at him for long. The reality of her wishes was more horrible than she could have imagined.
He stirred and moaned, his eyes fluttered, then they opened with a start. He thought to himself through the fog. “Surely this is a scene out of one of my nightmares, not reality. Where the hell am I? How did I get here? Oh my God, am I really dead? All the tubes, the mask, the monitors and the sounds of beeping and the pain, are they real?” These are the thoughts that consumed him as he lay helpless in his bed.
Frank managed to say Maria’s name in an audible but mask muffled tone. “ Maria?” She awoke to see Frank back in the land of the living, tugging at his mask, trying to talk to her. “Where am I?” He mumbled, holding his oxygen mask away from his face.
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