Behind The Lies

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Behind The Lies Page 5

by Mark R Beckner


  “This case is too stressful for everyone,” responds Ricci. “The entire community is stressed over it. I’ll be fine, but thank you for your concern.”

  “Sure Mike, if you ever want to talk more about it, I’ll be here for you.”

  Later that night, Garcia shares with Rosa the tragedy of Ricci’s daughter, and the subsequent loss of his wife.

  “Oh my goodness,” says Rosa. “No wonder he is so angry at drug dealers. I’d probably shoot them myself if anything like that happened to one of our kids.”

  “Rosa, so long as some people want drugs, there will be drug dealers. Murdering drug dealers is not the answer. Finding ways to improve our communities, our education system, our economy; those are ways to reduce the drug usage in this country.”

  She knows Juan is right of course, but it still makes her sad and angry to hear about Mike’s daughter.

  On Wednesday, Ricci leaves work early for a doctor’s appointment at the Paganelli Oncology Center. There will be no treatment this time. This appointment is to review Ricci’s latest scans and test results. As Ricci walks into the center he notices the smell of fresh-cut flowers from a large, assorted flower bouquet that sits on a table in the corner. Are these supposed to make people feel better? thinks Ricci. He doesn’t have to wait long before his doctor calls him in.

  “Good afternoon Mike. How are you feeling today?” asks Dr. Baylor.

  “About the same as last week. I don’t seem to have as much strength or stamina as several months ago. What do my tests show?”

  “I wish I had better news, Mike,” says Dr. Baylor. “There has been some slowing of the growth, but the cancer still continues to spread. I still recommend we do the surgery and start you back on chemo. A three-prong approach is the best chance we have of beating this thing.”

  “Have my chances of recovery improved?”

  “No, but your chances diminish the longer you put it off.”

  “I really don’t want to go through all that again for only a twenty percent chance of recovery. At least now, I can continue to do the things I want to do for as long as I can.”

  “Mike, radiation alone will only slow the growth. The chance of it killing all the cancer is very slim.”

  “Thank you, but if you just do what you can to keep me feeling as well as possible, I will appreciate it.”

  “Okay Mike, we will do what we can. I will keep you on the Zofran for the nauseousness. Have you lost any more weight since your last treatment?”

  “Just a few pounds. I’m drinking those protein shakes and they are helping a bit.”

  “Drink as much as you can tolerate. Let’s make your next radiation appointment for Friday.”

  “Alright, thank you doc.”

  As he is driving home, Ricci drifts off into thinking of Ella and the wonderful life they had together until the tragic death of their beloved Lisa. Since then, life has not been the same. Ricci wants to remain well enough to work for as long as possible, but is content in his decision. He will soon be with his wife and daughter again. He does feel bad for his son, but Chris is strong and independent. His practice as a young attorney is growing. Ricci knows Chris will be saddened by his death, but Chris will survive just fine. Ricci has already explained to Chris his decision not to accept full treatment for his cancer. He wants to live the last months of his life doing what he wants and feeling as well as possible. In the meantime, part of his plan is to spend more time with Chris in the coming months.

  Eleventh Attack

  It is now late on the last Friday in October. There have been no more attacks by the Candy Man Killer since the death of Miguel Gomez and there have been no sightings or reports of the suspicious man in black.

  Ricci is straightening up his cluttered desk and packing up his briefcase before heading home for the weekend.

  Garcia has noticed Ricci seemed especially tired this past week. “Get some rest this weekend Mike, you look tired.”

  “I plan to take it easy,” responds Ricci. “I’m going to be working on some projects in my woodshop and visit my son on Sunday for dinner.”

  “Oh, that sounds nice. Say hi to him for me.”

  “I will Juan. You have a nice weekend.”

  “Thanks, same to you. Hopefully, we’ll get through another weekend.”

  Unfortunately, that will not be the case. On Saturday, it is a particularly warm and sunny afternoon for this time of year in Chicago. Garcia is at his neighborhood park having a picnic with his wife and three children when at 12:15 pm he receives the call he is dreading. The Candy Man Killer has struck again. This time, it is in the Hermosa neighborhood outside the three neighborhoods he has always attacked before. Hermosa is north and west of the West Garfield neighborhood. Unlike where the other killings have occurred, Hermosa is primarily a Hispanic community with approximately twelve percent of the population being white or of another ethnicity.

  “Honey,” Garcia softly says to his wife. “I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to go. We just had another attack.”

  “Oh no,” she says. “Do you have to go?”

  Garcia just gives her that look that says, you know I have to go.

  “Oh alright, you go on, I’ll call my sister to pick us up. I don’t want to take the kids home yet. They’re having too much fun.”

  “Thank you honey, I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  Rosa just rolls her eyes as she kisses him goodbye. “Be careful.”

  Garcia rushes home to change his clothes, grabs both his handguns and briefcase, then heads toward the address in Hermosa. Being further north, it takes longer than usual to get to the scene. It takes Garcia about 40 minutes of drive time to arrive on the scene, which happens to be the home of the victim.

  Patrol officers and Detective Jackson are already on the scene and have it secured with yellow crime scene tape. This time, the victim was killed inside his house, a light brown, brick, 2-story bungalow in a residential area lined with similar-looking homes. The house is small, with only two bedrooms with a bath upstairs, and a living room, kitchen, bath, and laundry room on the first floor. Five concrete steps with a black wrought iron railing lead to the wooden front door. There are no signs of forced entry into the house.

  “Hello Juan,” says Jackson.

  “Hi, Trevon. What have we got this time?”

  “A friend came over to victim’s home this morning around eleven-thirty, found the front door ajar, walked in, and found our victim dead in a pool of blood.”

  Garcia shakes his head, “Same M.O. as our others?”

  “Pretty much the same. Our victim was a known drug dealer, got killed inside the living room, probably no more than 8 feet inside the house. One major difference though.”

  “Oh? what’s that?”

  “Our victim is white.”

  “So, this wasn’t our Candy Man Killer?” Garcia asks.

  “If not, it’s a copycat. Same type knife left on victim’s chest.”

  “Well, it’s got to be the same guy then. That’s just too distinctive and we never told the public the quirk about staging the knife.”

  “You may be right,” nods Jackson. “But it could be a copycat. I mean, he is our first white male, and this neighborhood has never before been targeted.”

  “This case just keeps getting stranger. Last time a Hispanic and now a white victim. Maybe race has nothing to do with it,” suggests Garcia.

  “Let me walk you through the scene,” says Jackson.

  Garcia and Jackson put on their latex gloves and hospital-type booties before entering the scene. They enter through the back door and are careful not to step on any blood evidence or touch anything. It will be the task of the crime scene techs to document and process the evidence.

  The victim, a white male, in his mid-thirties, with blond shoulder-length hair, is lying flat on his back on the living-room floor. His legs are splayed open, with his right leg bent at the knee and his right foot nearly touching his left knee. The victim is dressed
in white boxer shorts and a worn gray bathrobe. The robe is opened, exposing his chest and upper abdomen. The trauma to his mid-chest area is obvious. He has been stabbed and gouged, creating an opening approximately two inches wide. The victim’s robe and underwear are soaked in dark red blood, much of it already dried. A pool of blood has formed underneath the victim, with some of it running toward his head. The right side of his hair is stuck to the floor in dried blood. It looks to Garcia like he has been dead for at least several hours. Left on the victim’s chest was a Cardet kitchen utility knife.

  Garcia also notices the victim has what appears to be two large cuts on the inside of his left hand and a smaller one on the top of his left forearm. Garcia believes they are probably defensive wounds. In looking around closer, Garcia can see blood spatters on the dark wooden floor.

  “It looks to me like our victim had some time to fight like our last one,” suggests Garcia.

  “I would say so,” responds Jackson. “I also think our suspect may have been cut during the attack. Look at this”

  Jackson leans over and points to some spotting on the floor leading back to the door. “Someone walked to the door while bleeding.”

  “If that’s our suspect’s blood,” says Garcia as he looks at Jackson. He can tell Jackson is thinking the same thing he is.

  “Let’s go back around and check out the porch and walkway,” suggests Garcia. “Maybe we will find some blood outside.”

  Sure enough, when they inspect the porch and walkway, there are more drops of blood. Most of the drops have a slightly elliptical shape, indicating whoever left the blood was moving quickly as he bled. The drops ended halfway to the sidewalk in front of the house.

  “I’ll bet he went across the grass somewhere in here,” states Jackson.

  Sgt. Pennington has now arrived on the scene. Garcia approaches her and gives her a quick update.

  “So,” says Garcia, “we need officers to tape off this walkway and entire front yard. We then need our techs to search this grass to see if they can find more blood drops. A direction of travel would be great to have.”

  “I’ll assign some people on it right away,” responds Pennington.

  “By the way,” asks Garcia, “didn’t Ricci get called out?”

  “Yes, but he can’t make it. He got hurt real bad in his woodshop last night. Cut himself on a saw and had quite a few stitches. He might need surgery.”

  “Damn. I hope he’ll be okay. I’ll call him tonight. Thanks for telling me.” That’s right, he said he had work to do in his shop yesterday, remembers Garcia.

  Crime scene techs finally arrive on the scene and start their work photographing, documenting, and processing the evidence. Given the nature of the scene, it will take them at least the remainder of the day to get everything completed.

  Meanwhile, Garcia and Jackson are able to identify the victim as 35-year-old Dylan Rogers, the only resident of the house. He is a white male, 6’1” tall, and approximately 220 lbs. He has an extensive history of arrests for property crimes, possession of narcotics, and sale of narcotics.

  Garcia, Jackson, and several patrol officers then begin the tedious task of doing a door-to-door neighborhood canvass in hopes of finding any witnesses. In one of the residences across the street, diagonally from the victim’s home, an officer finds a 19-year-old Hispanic male who says he observed someone leaving the victim’s home earlier in the morning. Garcia and Jackson immediately respond to interview the witness. After introductions, the detectives begin asking questions.

  Jackson starts, “Okay then, what is your name?”

  “Michael Hernandez, I go by Mike.”

  “Mike, do you live here?”

  “Yes, with my parents and two brothers.”

  “And do you know Mr. Dylan Rogers from across the street?”

  “Oh yeah, he’s lived there awhile.”

  “Are you aware he was dealing drugs from his home?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “And you won’t be in trouble here, we just want all the facts. Did you ever buy drugs from Mr. Rogers?”

  “No sir, but I see people going there to buy drugs. I’ve heard on the street he sells hard stuff, like heroin and Fentanyl.”

  “Tell us what you saw last night.”

  “I couldn’t sleep so I got up to play some video games when I heard some noise across the street. Not loud, just some voices.”

  “Go on.”

  “I look out the window and I see a guy dressed in dark clothing go inside Mr. Roger’s house.”

  “Did he force his way in?” asks Garcia.

  “It didn’t look like it. He was at the door for about 30 seconds talking to someone, I assume it was Mr. Rogers. Then, he just walked in. I was curious as to what was going on, as it was pretty late.”

  “What time was it?”

  “It was about four in the morning.”

  “Keep going, just tell us what you saw,” states Jackson.

  “I guess it was about five minutes or so when the guy comes back out and leaves. He headed that way toward the intersection,” states Hernandez as he points in a south direction. “I lost sight of him at the corner.”

  “Can you describe him for us?”

  “Sure, he was a white male, pretty tall, with dark jacket and pants, and a pullover hat.”

  Jackson continues, “How sure are you he was a white male?”

  “Oh, I’m positive. I could see his face when he turned and walked toward me.”

  “Wasn’t it dark?”

  “Yes, but there was enough light to see.”

  “You said a pullover hat?”

  “Yeah, just a knit pullover hat. I think it was black.”

  “What about facial hair?”

  “He had a full beard.”

  “Glasses?”

  “I don’t remember seeing glasses.”

  “How about how he walked?”

  “He was moving quickly, but I didn’t notice anything unusual. Oh wait, he was holding his arm close to his body.”

  “Was he bleeding?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Had you ever seen this person before?”

  “No.”

  “Could you identify this person?”

  “Maybe, I’m not sure though.”

  “Okay, thank you so much Mike. We will be in touch,” concludes Jackson.

  “Yes, thank you, you’ve been a big help,” agrees Garcia.

  Garcia can’t believe their good fortune. “We finally have some evidence that will help us.”

  “Yes,” says Jackson, “we now have a more conclusive description and if that blood checks out, he’s likely to be in the system somewhere.”

  Garcia calls Ricci on Sunday morning to see how he is doing and wish him well. Ricci says he is recovering, but it will probably be a week before he can return to work. He tells Garcia he has suffered a serious cut on his left hand using a band saw. Some of his tendons are severed and he needed 22 stitches. Garcia shares the details of the latest attack and the fact they may have blood from the suspect, and even a better description of the suspect. Ricci agrees it is good news.

  The Following Week

  It is Monday morning and there is a new energy in the detective bureau. An updated description has been issued to the public. Calls on people matching the description are starting to filter into dispatch. Officers are being dispatched to check out each one.

  “Who would have thought there were this many tall white males with full dark beards and walking with a limp?” muses Garcia.

  “People will call in on anyone who is close,” says Jackson. “I’m sure patrol will be overwhelmed.”

  Later that afternoon everyone shares the latest information during Commander Marshall’s case review meeting. The big news comes from Criminalist Cindy Cross.

  “I do have good news,” announces Cross. “We had our lab technicians come in over the weekend to get this blood tested as quickly as possible. I’m happy to report w
e did find two separate blood specimens at the scene. There was a mixture of two contributors at the point of the attack. It is a good assumption that during the struggle, the suspect was somehow injured, probably cut, given the amount of secondary blood at the scene. The second contributor of blood inside the house is the same source of the blood collected on the porch, walkway, and some from the front yard. We were able to get a full DNA profile on our suspect. It has already been entered into our state database and will be entered into CODIS this afternoon.”

  (CODIS stands for Combined DNA Index System, maintained by the FBI.)

  Garcia adds, “We’re starting to do a database search of Illinois arrestees looking for people who match our suspect description.”

  “Excellent,” replies the Commander. “Our goal is to get this guy before we have another death. Thank you, everyone. Now let’s get back to work.”

  On Tuesday, Garcia calls Ricci to give him an update on the blood findings as well as to see how he is doing.

  “How’s the hand feeling?”

  “Better than expected,” replies Ricci. “Doctor says he can clear me for light duty on Thursday and I will start physical therapy next Monday.”

  “Excellent Mike, we miss you around here. We’ll see you on Thursday then.”

  Later that afternoon, Garcia and Jackson are at their desks reviewing reports and statements over a lunch of burgers and fries when Garcia’s phone rings.

  “Detective Garcia. Uh-huh, yeah sure, we can head over there this afternoon. Alright, got it, thanks”

  “What’s ya got?” asks Jackson.

  “Another potential witness. Isabella Santos lives around the corner from Dylan Rogers and believes she may have seen our suspect entering his car last Saturday.”

  Both Garcia and Jackson quickly finish up their lunch with Jackson gulping down the last half of his Pepsi. They then head to the residence of Isabella Santos.

  Santos lives just around the corner at the end of the block where Rogers lived. Her home is in the direction Hernandez saw the suspect go. Santos is 42 and lives with her two teenage boys in a bungalow-style home similar to others in the neighborhood.

  “Thank you for calling the police Mrs. Santos,” starts Garcia. “I understand you might have some information for us.”

 

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