The scar on his face looked even more hideous the more gin he drank. It too was a constant reminder. He could have had it fixed in a simple surgical proceedure, but he wanted it to remain as a symbol of what had been done to him and as a motivation to complete his mission. He had made a promise to his dying wife that day and he would keep it.
Looking at the chart on the wall he read the names of the two remaining murderers, Willie Reynolds and Steve Rollins. Then he would make sure that bastard Frank Desio, the leader, the 2nd lt., was dead, and then he could die in peace,
The doctor had been diagnosed with prostate cancer six months earlier. His time to complete his mission was short, he had to be meticulous in his planning, methodical in every action. The clock was now his enemy, he must hurry but cautiously ever so cautiously. He could not be apprehended by those bumbling detectives before he completed his life’s mission. Those two detectives, what a joke. He laughingly said of them, “They couldn’t even catch a cold, much less catch me.” You see the doctor had a sense of humor, he wasn’t just an unfeeling, brutal killer.
His life had been good, he had achieved great wealth and notoriety. But his heart was empty for he had never remarried, he could never find another woman like Kim-Le, she was his one and only soul mate. With all his money and fame he never had a moment of pure happiness, only hate and a revengeful spirit that raged within. All he had left now was the task he had vowed and was determined to complete.
The remaining members would be more difficult to eliminate, he knew. The police were suspicious of him, but really didn’t have a clue. He had to be very careful. Time was getting short and he knew his illness would soon overpower him and leave him incapable of completing his mission.
He finished his drink and poured another hoping to dull the rage and pain. Maybe he should just kill the two keystone cops that were stalking him. They would just put two more on the case, two more that might even be talented enough to give him real problems. Besides killing cops was never a good idea. No use getting the whole SDPD pissed off at you. Cops were like that. Let an average citizen get killed and they really could give a shit. Kill a cop and they would hunt you to the ends of the earth. Very peculiar attitude, the doctor always thought, but true nonetheless.
Becoming an American citizen was not easy for a Vietnamese back in the seventies, but he managed to do it. He had managed to save enough money to make it to California in the late seventies and worked hard. Wyen put himself through college in La Jolla, the prestigious UCSD and attended medical school there as well. He always thought later when he became a plastic surgent it was ironic considering his own hideous appearance.
Through the years he managed to track down the members of the platoon that ravaged his village in 1969 and killed his friends and his beloved wife. It was not easy, it took years, but through patience and hard work and the help of the computer he managed to find every one of the murderous bastards. He found their leader as well. 2nd Lt. Frank Desio was the one he wanted the worst. He was in command and if he had been a stronger leader, the whole terrible thing would have never happened.
The gin and tonic was taking over his mind at last. It always managed to take a little bit of the edge off his anger. Somehow he had to get to the remaining two members and the Lt. He had noticed, of course the police didn’t notice him noticing that they had posted unmarked units at the residences of his last two targets. He knew there would be a guard or maybe more at the hospital watching over Frank Desio. These last three were going to be difficult. He put down his glass of gin, there was much work to do.
It was late and the doctor was tired to the bone. He lay down on his bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes and fell asleep. Tomorrow would bring a new day. Willie Reynolds would die next and although it wouldn’t be easy, his time was coming.
Chapter Forty One
Carson and Chuck
Carson and Chuck were totally exhausted from the day’s hunt and decided to head for their respective abodes. Veronica had a special meal planned for Carson that night and maybe and little something else. It was Veronica and his silver wedding anniversary. Twenty five years of wedded bliss, it was hard to believe they were still together after all these years. After all it’s not always easy being married to a cop. But Veronica was the best and she always made it work, even through the toughest of times.
Chuck had a date with a Charger cheerleader he had met at Junior Seau’s club a few nights ago. He always dated attractive women, something of which Carson was somewhat jealous, though he wouldn’t admit it.
Both of them wanted to forget about the case they were working on for the night. Hopefully the next morning wouldn’t greet them with yet a another dead body and another murder to solve.
Veronica was waiting for Carson as he turned the key in his front door and entered his upper middle class home. It was the complete opposite of Carson’s disheveled appearance. It was tastefully decorated and meticulously clean. Veronica kept it that way. She was a light skinned Afro-American beauty in her mid-forties, dressed in a sultry evening gown and immediately gave Carson a big passionate kiss. “Happy Twenty Fifth wedding anniversary sweet heart,” she said giving him another big kiss.
“Happy wedding anniversary,” Carson said shyly giving her a big bear hug.
The table was set with candle light and their best china. There was a bucket of champagne chilling and soft music was playing in the dimly lit dinning area. “Why don’t you take and a shower and slip into something a little more appropriate for the occasion,” Veronica said softly, oozing sexuality.
The couple had a beautiful evening together and Carson actually did forget the case even if it was just for a little while.
Chuck picked up his date around eight. She was of course radiant in her evening attire and Chuck marveled to himself, how he got such beautiful women to go out with him. They were heading for the gaslight district in downtown San Diego for a night of dinner and dancing by the beautiful Pacific Ocean. Maybe later on Chuck just might get lucky, he often did and the thought brought a big smile to his face as he opened the car door for his lovely guest for the evening.
Nicole Langston was her name. A blond haired, blued eyed, beach bunny type that Chuck found particularly attractive. She was a student as SDSU, majoring in psychology of all things. Brains and beauty, an unbeatable combination in Chuck’s opinion. Could he pick them or what, he thought as he shut the door behind her, noticing her particularly lust derriere as she got into his sports car. It was going to be a great evening. No dead bodies, no murders to solve, only Chuck and Nicole.
They did have a great evening and Chuck was able to forget about the case for a little while. But come the morning it would be right there in his face.
Chapter Forty Two
The Next Morning
Carson and Chuck’s tails were dragging the next morning as they sat at their desks in silence, each in their own little world. The night before had been a welcome respite but the morning brought them back to reality and the multiple murder case that seemingly had no end. At least there had been no further reports of dead bodies connected to their case during the night.
They looked at the board with all the names of the victims. The twists and turns of this case was enough to make you dizzy. Their main suspect Dr. Riley was now a victim and the alibi witness was missing probably dead as well. They had one loose end, Raphael Fuentes, but they didn’t think he knew anything, however the detectives liked to be thorough so they would pay him another visit.
Then of course there was “Doctor D”, the plastic surgeon to the rich and famous, Dr. Ben Wyen. He had been identified by Frank Desio as the one who came into his hospital room and tried to kill him. Of course Frank was subject to bad dreams and was heavily medicated at the time. Frank could have been hallucinating that he saw the man he had tortured in Vietnam and this doctor just happened to have a big scar on his face and two fingers missing. Coincidence, Carson did
n’t believe in those, so you can bet Wyen was their suspect number one.
They checked on the surveillance teams at the hospital and at the homes of the other two members of the seven, Willie Reynolds and Steve Rollins, and were assured that their protection was in place. The last thing they wanted was the body count to increase. They also put a tail on Wyen, just in case he was the perpetrator of these heinous murders. No way in hell they were going to let this scenario play out any further, not on Carson and Chuck’s watch.
Continuing to look at the board hoping to discover something they had missed, they sat there for what seemed like a hour, but was in fact ten minutes, in a trance like comma, just staring. They hoped the board would speak to them and give them the answer to the mystery, but after ten minutes, they still had no answers.
“Let’s go see if we can hunt down Raphael Fuentes. I don’t think he knows anything but we’ve got to start somewhere,” Carson finally broke the silence.
Chuck agreed and they headed to the door once more in search of one shred of evidence that would link “Dr. D” to the crimes.
Chapter Forty Three
Willie Reynolds
The church was small, but it’s membership was enthusiastic. The minister, a heavy set Afro-American in a cheap suit, was whipping his congregation into a frenzy of “Hallelujahs” and “Amen’s.” He wiped the perspiration from his brow and continued preaching, the Christians in the pews fanned themselves.
“The wages of sin is death,” exalted the minister, Willie Reynolds. He preached on fervently as his wife Dianne, echoed his sentiments from the hard wooden pew. She was a rail thin, dark skinned lady with graying black hair. Clapping and praying out loud she encouraged her husband’s every word. Sometimes, getting up and running around the church, if the spirit struck her that way. Other times she would speak in tongues and fall on the floor convulsing. Willie seemed not to even notice but kept on preaching and stirring up the crowd.
In the basement an unwelcome visitor set about his work. He was rigging up an explosive device with enough C-4 to blow up this little church and several more. It was of course “Dr D“. The doctor of death was practicing a trade he had learned a long time ago and had sharpened through the years. He had learned about demolition of all sorts when he was in the army of North Vietnam. He had studied the craft intensely since those days and was extremely good at his work.
Finishing up with the device, he eased out of the church to wait for the church members to depart. After all he wasn’t a monster, who relished the killing of innocent people. He just wanted the murderer. He might have to take the minister’s wife with him, but if possible he would even spare her life.
He could hear the singing stop inside the church and knew it wouldn’t be long before the members would be flooding out of the front door of the church. They would talk for while and then the preacher would go back inside. He had studied Willie Reynolds’ habits over a few Sundays. He was a creature of habit, and this creature was going to meet his maker shortly.
While he waited the doctor smiled and laughed to himself about how easily he had eluded the buffoons who had been assigned to tail him. What a joke. And the guys that were supposed to be watching the minister were too busy eating donuts and drinking coffee to notice him. They didn’t know who they were dealing with, but in a few minutes they would find out.
It seemed like an eternity, but sure enough the front doors of the little church opened and the membership came spilling out. They were laughing and talking, patting each other on the back and shaking hands. The minister stood in a position of prominence and bid farewell to his flock as they filed through. One by one they came by telling the preacher how much they enjoyed the sermon and talking about whatever. One couple even invited Willie and his wife to Sunday dinner, fried chicken and the fixings, which Willie graciously accepted.
The doctor waited in his hiding place with his remote detonator for the right moment. He saw the preacher man go back in the church alone. His wife luckily for her got in a car with a young couple and sped away. The time was near, the excitement of the kill had begun.
Willie, inside of the little wood church, kneeled at the alter to pray. Little did he know it would be his last. He prayed fervently and with great zeal, it was time for him to go to Glory.
Out of nowhere the church went up in a ball of fire and horrendous destruction. The explosion shook the neighborhood for miles, debris flew everywhere. A ball of fire shot hundreds of feet into the air, smoke poured out of the rubble and covered the neighborhood in smoky blackness.
The cops assigned to watch the reverend spilled coffee on their cheap detective suits as the mayhem woke them from a coma, the glass on their unmarked unit shattered. They watched the scene in horror, unable to move for what seemed like minutes but was only seconds.
Dr D. watching from afar was pleased with his work, another name could be crossed off the list. His job was almost done and he could die in peace.
Chapter Forty Four
The Aftermath
In the aftermath of the huge explosion the church was a pile of unidentifiable rubble, smoking and black. The scene was a chaotic maze of fire, emergency vehicles and of course a hundred police cars. Uniformed officer and plain clothes detectives surveyed the smoldering scene. Among the crowd was Carson and Chuck. They were on their way to see Raphael Fuentes when they got the call. He would have to wait for now.
Luckily there were only a few injuries and one death, poor Willie Reynolds. A charred body was later found inside the church. It was unrecognizable, but presumed to be the pastor. This was obviously the work of a pro. The church was blown precisely with minimum damage to any of the adjacent buildings.
The paramedics were finishing up treating the detectives that were watching Willie Reynolds for minor lacerations from the shattering glass when Carson and Chuck made their way over to speak to them
“What the hell happened here guys?” Carson barked. “You guys were supposed to be watching this guy. And yet right under your doughnut eating noses somebody comes in and blows up the whole fucking church. What the hell, were you guys doing here?”
“We didn’t see shit,” one of the detectives answers in their defense. “We were watching the church and all of sudden all hell broke loose.”
“You didn’t see anybody suspicious hanging around the church?” Chuck inquires of the two battered detectives. “Like maybe a little Asian guy with a scar on his face, missing two fingers?”
Shaking their heads, the two detectives continued to plead their case. They were watching the church intently and didn’t see anyone or anything out of the ordinary until the explosion.
“Where’s the two assholes who were supposed to be tailing the doctor?” Carson asked, still mad as hell and getting madder. The two detectives pleaded ignorance on that as well, saying they hadn’t seen them.
“Damn!” Carson said. “This slimy bastard gave them the slip. Shit! Chuck, see if you can raise those two idiots on the radio, and find out what happened.”
“Okay, boss,” Chuck replied meekly, and went to their unmarked unit to use the radio.
Fire department personnel continued overhauling the fire, sifting through the rubble to see if there were any more dead bodies or anything else of interest. The smoke still belched out of the little church as the fireman continued their work.
Yet another dead body and no suspect. Well one, but there was still no way to connect him to the explosion, nor any of the other crimes for that matter. This “Dr. D” was going to be harder to catch in the act than the detectives originally thought. Oh, this guy was good, but they had to better.
Chuck called the hospital to make everything was okay with Frank Desio and found out all was secure at the hospital. He told them to be especially deligent and not let their guard down even for a minute. Someone wanted Mr. Desio in the worst kind of way and would stop at nothing to accomplish his mission.
There was nothing else th
ey could do here, Willie Reynolds was dead and that was that. There was one more name on the list, a Steve Rollins. He was a homeless derelict who lived at various shelters in downtown San Diego and was known to frequent Saint Vincent DePaul’s most days for breakfast.
Chapter Forty Five
Raphael
It was getting about dark when the detectives pulled into the Logan Heights neighborhood to ask Raphael Fuentes a few questions. They didn’t think he knew anything about “Dr. D” or any of the murders they thought he was involved in, however they thought he might know something about the untimely demise of Emilio Rodrigues.
The detectives had that same uncomfortable feeling as they pulled up in front of Raphael’s house. Gang bangers on the corner eyeing them, low rider cars easing up and down the street, made for a tense scene.
Once again, hands on their concealed pieces underneath their suit coats, Carson and Chuck slid out of their unit and walked apprehensively towards the door. They looked in both directions to make sure the thugs that were on the corner remained there. No problem, the coast was clear. They breathed a collective sigh of relief and relaxed a little. Bad idea.
All of a sudden the front door of the Fuentes’ residence flew open, two tangled bodies flew out. The bodies, one of them Raphael, were involved in a street brawl right in front of the detectives. It spread from the porch out into the lawn and was in full effect, kicking, punching, clawing, a hell of a fight. The detectives rushed in and with great difficulty managed to pull the two apart.
When the dust settled, the other individual involved in the tussle turned out to a be a rather attractive, but rough looking Latino lady with strikingly large breasts. She had long dark hair that flowed over her blouse which was partially ripped from the altercation. She had on “Daisy Duke” shorts that revealed a pair of gorgeous brown legs. She started back at Raphael, but Chuck pulled her off, holding her back with a big smile on his face.
Delayed Justice Page 12