Delayed Justice
Page 14
He had a backup plan of course. All good soldiers have a backup plan and he was a good soldier. He was one step away from finishing his mission. He had an alternate apartment under a phony name just in case something like this happened. He had a safe with a bundle of cash and a few guns. He wasn’t planning on letting them take him alive. If it looked like they had him, he was going down guns blazing.
Turning down a side street in Chula Vista he looked once again in his rear view to see if he had picked up a tail. Nope, no one insight, just as he had suspected. He laughed again to himself. Damn he was good he thought. “I’ll slip out of town and lay low until they give up on finding me, then I’ll get that bastard Frank Desio.” He said out loud, as he pulled into a large apartment complex.
Chapter Fifty
The Playhouse
After about an hour the search warrant finally showed up. It gave Carson and Chuck the authority to search the warehouse and surrounding area and siege any and all evidence they should find. They were all set and with a battering ram brought by the uniforms to the scene they were finally able to knock down the front door and get into the warehouse.
The place was huge and mostly abandoned. The lighting was poor overall but with the aid of flashlights they could see doors that opened from the warehouse itself. Behind these doors were what the detectives were looking for, it just had to be.
They knocked down the first door they came to and marveled at what they saw inside. It was the doctor’s sex playroom that the girl with the lovely breasts had described. She should know having spent countless hours here with the doctor doing God knows what. There was a huge circular bed, covered with a leopard skin comforter, along with mirrors on the ceiling as well as the walls. Lights hung from the ceiling and chains connected to leather restraints. In the closet were all types and sizes of dildos and all kinds of sex lotions and freaky masks, along with hundreds of video tapes with perverted titles. And if all the gear wasn’t enough there also was a video camera on a tripod positioned to catch all the perverted action that was happening. What a freak this doctor was but all this twisted shit didn’t make him a murderer.
Convinced that they had found all there was to find in the sex room they moved on to the next room. As soon as they opened the door they knew they had hit pay dirt. Inside was a work shop, complete with all types of bomb making gear. Detonators, clocks, blocks of C4, sticks of dynamite, and stacks of books on how to make explosive devices for any occasion. On the wall was the master chart with all the names of the victims. They were all crossed off except Frank Desio. He was the last one still standing.
Carson and Chuck had to find the doctor. He had disappeared, but one thing they were sure of he was going to try and finish the job. He was going to try and kill Frank. They didn’t really have to look for him, just sit back and wait for him to show himself. Seemed simple enough, but the doctor was very crafty. Frank had to be guarded night and day. If somehow they let him slip through they may never find the doctor again.
Chapter Fifty One
The Doctor Disappears
Carson and Chuck of course traced the doctor’s steps . They were convinced he couldn’t just disappear, they would surely find him. Their first stop was his office in the swank building in La Jolla, but his receptionist with the perfect body said she hadn’t seen or heard from him. She was at a lost as what to do with his patient load. She however did give the detectives a home address which proved to be a dead end as well.
They dug into his bank account information to see if he had made an ATM withdrawal or used a credit card. Again they came up with nothing. They went through the county property records to see if Wyen owned any other residences where he might be hiding. According to the records he didn’t own any other properties, at least not in his name. They checked to see if had used any alias’s but came up with nothing. This guy was a ghost and had seemed to vanish into thin air.
The detectives had but one choice. They had to sit on Frank Desio night and day. Sooner or later this guy was going to show up. They knew the doctor wouldn’t stop until Frank was dead or he got caught. The detectives were determined the later rather than the former was going to happen. It was not going to be easy but it was the only way.
Frank had just been released from the hospital and was going home. They would park across the street from Frank’s house forever if that was how long it took to catch this guy. In the mean time they were still monitoring his bank accounts, hoping he would need cash and then they would have him. Until then they had to play the waiting game. Lots of stale coffee, old donuts, and blisters on their butts from sitting on a hard car seat day after day, night after night.
Chapter Fifty Two
Welcome Home Frank
It was home sweet home for Frank Desio at last. But his return home was bitter sweet. He came home to an empty house. Maria had left him to live with her sister in Phoenix, and his daughter Brianna was away at school. But he was back home, and he was alive.
Still on crutches with his leg in a cast, it was hard for Frank to get around and take care of himself, but he managed. He missed Maria but understood why she left. He had treated her like shit and for that he was sorry, but maybe it was for the best. There was Jennifer, now he could pursue her full time. The only thing he had to worry about was her asshole husband, Buster. Screw him, Frank was still going to see Jennifer, he didn’t care. In fact he called her shortly after he got home from the hospital. Frank was ready to get on with his life.
He didn’t care for the constant presence of the detectives sitting across the street from his house but he understood and found comfort in them. He would bring them coffee and pastries in the morning and even let them use his restroom if they needed to go. He didn’t like being bate for a killer but if it would help catch him he figured that was the least he could do.
Frank was getting a little stir crazy from being confined to the house and ready to get on his normal routine and get back to work as days turned into weeks. Jennifer had started to visit him on a regular basis to help Frank out and their relationship had picked up where it left off when Frank went into the hospital.
A month and a half had passed since the attempts on Frank’s life and he was starting to think he was in the clear. This guy had given up, probably left the country or something. That was what Frank was telling everybody that would listen including Jennifer and Carson and Chuck. Everybody was starting to believe what Frank was saying was true. The detectives close watch on Frank and the house had started to loosen up somewhat.
Jennifer had even started sleeping over at Frank’s house using the excuse that her mom was sick and she was staying with her. Frank had asked her to leave Buster but she was still afraid of what he might do.
One morning a few weeks later Jennifer was at Frank’s as had become her habit. Frank and her had gotten very bold with their relationship. Buster wasn’t stupid and sooner or later he was going to find out about Frank and then there would be hell to pay.
Jennifer smiled a nervous smile and sang along to an old tune on her car radio as she drove the few miles to her ratty apartment from Frank’s house. She was going to do it this morning. She was finally going to leave that bastard Buster. Just the thought of it scared the hell out of her as she continued to drive and sing and shake from pure fear. Maybe he would just let her go, no not a chance in hell.
As she drove up in her apartment complex she looked apprehensively at her front door. She knew Buster would be there, sitting on the couch probably already having his favorite breakfast, a twelve pack. She convinced herself she didn’t care what he said or did, she was leaving him. She couldn’t take the abuse and the beatings anymore. Why did she have to leave such a shitty life. She was a good person, she deserved better than a worthless drug addicted drunk. She deserved a good man like Frank. A man who loved her and treated her like a lady.
Buster of course was sitting on the couch drinking beer, smoking a cigarette and watching cartoons on
the tube when Jennifer turned the key in her front door and eased it slowly open, hoping somehow the bastard would be gone.
She walked quickly to the kitchen and was just putting her keys and purse on the counter when Buster was in her face. “Where the fuck you been all night, bitch? Who you been fucking? You been with that Frank Desio asshole, ain’t you?” Buster yelled smelling of stale beer and cigarettes and spitting with every word.
Jennifer, fear in her eyes stuck to her story. “No, no I’ve been over at mom’s. I told you she was sick.”
Pushing her against the kitchen cabinet Buster yelled even louder, “You’re a lying bitch. I told you what I’d do if I found out you were fucking around.” Buster grabbed Jennifer by her hair and drug her into the living room. He knocked her onto the couch with a well placed blow to her right eyed that immediately blackened and swelled up. She tried to get up and run but he grabbed her again throwing her onto the coffee table that broke under her weight. Again she tried to get up and flee but Buster snatched an empty beer bottle off the floor and banged Jennifer in the head twice, leaving her lying in a pool of blood on the living room floor. She wasn’t moving.
That’s what you get bitch,” Buster sneered as he stood over her seemingly lifeless body. Now for that Frank asshole.”
Buster ran into the kitchen, rustled through the cabinet and pulled out a .357 and checked the chamber for rounds. He retrieved Jennifer’s car keys off of the counter and ran out the front door of the apartment slamming the door loudly. He jumped in Jennifer’s car, cranked up and screeched out of the parking lot.
Chapter Fifty Three
Dr. D
The pain was almost unbearable as Wyen lay in the bed of a seedy motel room in National City. He had managed to hide out from the authorities for three months now, but he was dying and he had a job to finish. This time was a suicide mission, he would complete the final task of eliminating Frank Desio once and for all or die trying.
His thoughts went back to the village of his birth in Vietnam and a terrible day that changed the course of his life forever. He thought about his wife so long departed and the horrific events that occurred in the village the day she died.
He had just finished delivering a load of ammunition and rice for the NVA and sat down to eat a meal of rice and some fish he had caught the day before when the marines entered the village firing, yelling, and shoving the villagers around. He ran out to see what was happening and was herded into the dusty road near the old well with the rest. He remembered the first time he saw 2nd Lt. Frank Desio, a cocky, young Marine officer knowing immediately he was the man in charge.
Tears ran down his face as the anger welled up in him as he thought about the way he was treated. The rifle blow to his head, the deep cut sliced below his eye, the blood and the pain he felt as his fingers were severed from his hand. He could feel the ropes that restrained him and the helplessness he felt as the marines opened fire on the innocent people in the street. The dead bodies had haunted him for years. He had watched his wife shot and after the bloody ordeal was over and he was untied somehow made it to her side to speak to her as she took her final breathes. She made him promise that he would avenge her death and the deaths of the others no matter how long it took.
Even in his condition, sick and weakened from the cancer he found incredible strength to finish the job he had vowed to do so many years ago. It would be easy to sneak pass the detectives that were posted outside of Frank’s house. He had been there several times in the last couple of weeks and had noticed the individuals on watch had started to let their guard down. He laughed to himself when he thought about the two bumbling detectives that had been assigned to guard his last and final victim. He decided the time was right to strike. He was dying and he must act now before it was too late.
He checked his pistol and saw that the magazine was fully loaded and ready for action. He didn’t even bother putting on the silencer this time. He didn’t care if he was caught or killed this time. His mission would be complete or he would die trying.
Stepping outside the door of his motel, he looked both ways, the coast was clear so he walked slowly to an old Ford he had been driving. The cops never look twice at an old man in an old car. He knew the route to Desio’s very well. This would be his last trip.
Chapter Fifty Four
Collision
Jennifer had left and Frank was all alone, alone with his thoughts. He was happy for the first time in years and felt things were starting to go his way for a change. This was the day when his lover was going to tell her husband she was leaving him. He smiled and took a sip of coffee as he thought about the love he had for Jennifer. After his divorce from Maria and Jennifer’s divorce from Buster was final they would be married. Frank had promised himself he would be true to his new wife. He only hoped that he could.
He peered through the curtains in his living room and saw Carson and Chuck at their usual post. Carson was nodding on the passenger side and Chuck was sitting behind the steering wheel reading a newspaper. Not exactly inspiring confidence, but the two detectives were still on the job after all these months. The killer had probably given up by now Frank thought. He was safe, but he couldn’t help but thinking his life was still in danger. All his friends and fellow Marines were dead. He alone was left to tell the tale of what happened that day or take it his grave.
Feeling a little dirty he decided to go up and take a long hot shower. He still had that feeling that the water could somehow wash away his feelings of guilt, but it never did.
Outside in the unmarked unit Carson was stirring from his nap and Chuck had put down his newspaper and was drinking a cup of coffee. He reached in the back seat and grabbed a bag of donuts. “Good morning sleepy head, want a donut,” Chuck inquired handing the bag to Carson.
“Yeah, sure, what time is it?” Carson said grabbing the bag and fishing a nice glazed one out.
“ It’s nine thirty, in the morning. Damn, how can you sleep like that? Chuck asked.
“Years of practice my boy, years of practice,” Carson answered smacking on his donut. “You know we should pull the plug on this stakeout. This guy is never gonna show. We’re just wasting time here.”
Chuck agreed, but said they should give it a few more days. If he didn’t show they could shut it down. They had did all they could do. Other cases were piling up on their desks and the detectives had spent too many months on this case already. Maybe they would just have to admit they weren’t going get this guy.
After taking another sip of coffee and rustling through his paper for the third time Chuck just happened to look over in the direction Frank’s house. All of a sudden a late model Toyota came pulling up out of nowhere, the driver of the vehicle bailed out in a hurry and headed towards the house. “What the fuck!” Chuck yelled waking Carson from another nap. It was Buster and he was knocking on Frank’s door and yelling before Chuck and Carson realized what was going on.
“Open this fucking door, Frank. I know you’re in there,” Buster screamed, beating on the door with his pistol in hand.
Carson and Chuck looked at each other simultaneously and both said, “Gun!”
They bailed out of the car, guns drawn, and yelled at Buster who didn’t notice them at first. “San Diego Police Department, drop your weapon,” Carson yelled, as the two detectives crossed the street and ran towards the house.
Buster finally noticed the detectives approaching and as he turned he raised the .357 and pointed it at the officers. Operating on pure instinct Carson discharged his weapon hitting Buster in the right leg. “I said drop your weapon,” Carson warned again.
Having none of that, Buster fired a bellowing round from his huge cannon just missing Chuck. Having no other choice the detectives fired repeatedly knocking Buster down and leaving him dying in a pool of blood.
Chuck rushed up and kicked Buster’s gun that was now laying on the sidewalk away and stood over him as he drew his last brea
thes. “”I told that bitch, I would kill her and…”
Frank looked out his living room window in horror at the scene that had unfolded in front of his door. He looked at Buster’s dead body laying on his sidewalk in disbelief.
An unwelcome visitor took advantage of the drama to sneak in the back way and get the drop on Frank who didn’t even notice until Dr “D” cocked his pistol and spoke in a chilling voice. “Lt Desio, we meet again. This time one of us is going to die. I think it is going to be you this time.”
Frank whirled around wide eyed shocked to see Wyen in his home and to be looking down the barrel of his pistol. “Oh, my, God! It’s you. I knew that was you in the hospital, they all thought I was crazy,” Frank said looking for somewhere to run.
"All of your men are dead. Only you remain. Now it is your time to die for your sins. Delayed justice is better than no justice at all,” Wyen spoke in an eerie voice, almost a monotone.
“I knew this day would come. I almost prayed that it would. I have been tortured all these years, you just don’t know. I am ready for my punishment,” Frank cried as he spoke.
“I know you tried to stop your men, but you were in charge. We were soldiers and it was many years ago, but I made a vow to my dying wife. I will make it quick and respectful, soldier to soldier,” the doctor said as he raised his pistol.
The front door crashed opened suddenly as Carson and Chuck came tumbling through, not believing the scene that was now unfolding in Frank’s living room. They both realized instantly what was happening and starting firing leaving Dr. Ben Wyen lying dead on the floor and Frank standing motionless watching the action in disbelief.