The Body at Midgley Bridge

by Charles Williamson

  He opened the door to the balcony that overlooked Pacific Beach. “None of the other hotels have vantage points that would allow the sniper to aim at this balcony or into your room. Be sure and draw the curtain at night, but this room is relatively safe. This motel has basement parking; you could use your vehicle to enjoy your picnic on another beach or in Balboa Park, just don’t allow enough time for him to set up in another location, please stay no more than twenty minutes in one spot. That way you’re not prisoners in your room. We have no proof that the sniper even knows you’re in Pacific Beach, but you are certainly one of his three remaining revenge targets. He will have been shocked to learn that you recovered and left Paris two days after his homicide attempt. Our profiler thinks you’re unfinished business that he can’t let go.”

  Margaret was clearly uncomfortable with their situation, but at least their room seemed safe during daylight. There must be three hundred people on the beach in the area outside the motel and thousands more in the whole area. No one could pull out a sniper rifle without attracting attention or causing a major disturbance.

  “Thank you Agent Schultz. I’ll contact you each afternoon to let you know where we plan to spend the night. At least for now we plan to be in this room for two more days. I like your suggestion of a brief picnic in Balboa Park. It will be crowded with visitors on a nice afternoon. After that we’ll drive to Coronado Beach and have dinner at Del Coronado.”

  “Good. I hope you don’t even notice the tail, but it will help them to know your destinations. Your surveillance team can be reached at 619 555 6754. The man on duty this afternoon is Ted.”

  The scenery at Balboa Park was spectacular, but the dense growth of trees made Mike nervous as they sat at a picnic table in the open.

  “This isn’t going to be fun is it? Let’s go.” Margaret said as they began to eat their sandwiches. “Will it always be like this, us looking at every shadow for a killer?”

  “I think the fact that Agent Schultz wants us to stay in San Diego for a few more days may be because he thinks I’m excellent bait. If he catches the Park Sniper, his future in the Bureau will be assured.”

  “You’re a brave man Mike, but the job of bait is not part of your job description.”

  “Let’s go to Coronado. I think that broad beach with thousands of people will be safe. The northern part of the beach only has single family homes, no high-rise hotels for a sniper.”

  It should have been fun, but the concern raised by their meeting with Agent Schultz couldn’t be set aside. While they were playing in the surf, Mike noticed a man in a white Ford sedan with binoculars watching the beach. He walked back to their gear and called the phone number that Agent Schultz had given him. The man answered his cell phone.

  “Ted, this is Mike Damson. You stick out like a sore thumb with those binocular and the seersucker jacket. We’re going to change clothes in the bathhouse and head over to the Del Coronado for dinner. I’ll use the front entrance and the valet parking. We’ll have a drink in the bar before our 6:30 dinner reservations.”

  “Thank you sir,” he said.

  After their drinks they entered the dining room with its western view of a spectacular sunset, an orange ball sinking into the Pacific through the vermillion and purple of a distant squall. As they were directed to a window table, Margaret told the host, “We’d rather sit near the back wall.”

  That single comment told Mike volumes. If Margaret was afraid to sit by a window, the current situation was not sustainable. They would not live in constant fear. He needed a way of trapping the Park Sniper even at some personal risk.

  That night back in their hotel room, Mike noticed the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. At the right angle he could see Margaret in the bedroom area adjusting the TV. Mike had been intrigued with magic shows since he was a child, and tricks using mirrors were among his favorite illusions.

  The next morning he called Sheriff Taylor on the room phone while Margaret was in the shower. “Boss, Margaret and I would like to come home but not get shot. I have a suggestion for catching the Park Sniper that doesn’t involved any of us dying.”

  Sheriff Taylor had been to their Sedona house several times, but Mike reminded him of the general layout. Like many Sedona homes, it had large sections of glass in most rooms to enjoy their hilltop views of Wilson Mountain, Snoopy Rock, Airport Mesa, and other dramatic Red Rock formations in the Sedona area. Their living room had a whole wall of glass sixteen feet high and seventeen feet wide.

  “He seems to have figured out the moving mannequin the FBI installed in your home, and he’s never taken a shot at either your house or at Sheriff Duncan because the risks of capture is too high. He’s an intelligent and unemotional assassin, not a crazed killer who will take great personal risks.”

  “Your plan is not riskless, but I don’t have any better idea. I’m tired of living in my basement and never being outside. If he continues to kill in random tourist locations, our odds of catching the bastard are not good. That’s why the FBI set me up in the basement while using the mannequin to imitate my normal movement. Let me talk it over with the taskforce. There’s actually no one in charge since the last demotion, but there must be a decision maker somewhere in their chain of command. It will take several days to set things up even if they approve, so you and Margaret should keep on the move and be very careful for now.”

  When Margaret got out of the shower, Mike explained his plan. Margaret cried when she realized the danger, but readily agreed to take the risks to get this malignant worry out of their lives. That day they went to a shopping mall to replace Mike’s iPhone. He felt a certain brand loyalty since the small device had saved his life in Paris. They toured an old aircraft carrier that afternoon before returning for a swim and dinner at Pacific Beach.

  The following afternoon, Margaret and Mike were having lunch in the harbor neighborhood of San Diego. Again Margaret had asked for a table against the back wall. Mike’s new cell phone rang for the first time. He’d kept the same number.

  “Captain Damson, this is Deputy Director Casey. I called to let you know I have approved your plan. Thank you for taking this risk to apprehend the Park Sniper. Our task force has been in Sedona all morning. It is an excellent place to trap the sniper because we can seal it off with only four roadblocks, one south of the high school on State Highway 89a, one north of downtown also on 89a, a third where Highway 179 enters the national forest, and finally at Schnebly Hill Road. The lack of quick access to an interstate is a major advantage. I have asked the Phoenix office to see to the fabrication of the two mirrors, but it will be several days before things can be set up. By the way, who lives across the street from you?”

  “It’s a vacation home for the Francis family from Las Vegas. They come about once a month for a weekend, and for two weeks every summer. They fly their plane in at the Sedona Airport and keep a car in their hangar.”

  “Your neighbors keep their Wi-Fi on all the time, even when the house is not in use.”

  “Probably, they need it for their alarm system. They have some valuable art in their house.”

  “There are three cameras with night vision abilities focused on your house. They’re located in the trees in front of your neighbors’ house. The high definition cameras are pirating your neighbors’ Wi-Fi signal to keep track of your movements. The cameras are motion activated and transmit any movement in front of the house, and they would certainly have transmitted your arrival a few days ago. We can temporarily block the signal while we create the setup inside your house. We are certain the sniper will notice your return to Sedona, and your hilltop location will be very tempting place to target.”

  “It’s very rugged terrain around Sedona. He might escape on foot,” Mike said.

  “We’ll have two helicopters at the Sedona Airport with night vision optics and our own snipers onboard. We’ll use the sound and flash setup on your roof like we did with Sheriff Taylor. Day or night we’ll know exactly whe
re the shot came from. Believe me when I promise that the FBI will not let this man get away to kill again.”

  Chapter 25

  Mike updated Margaret on the plans for the trap in Sedona. They decided that keeping on the move until the trap was set was their safest option. Mike called the surveillance number and explained that they would be driving up the coastal highway to Laguna Beach. First they went to one of the rental car locations, and changed their rented vehicle. They didn’t make reservations in Laguna Beach so there would be no record of where they were going and where they’d spend the night.

  The drive up the coast should have been fun and relaxing since they were in no hurry. They stopped at two Spanish missions on the drive and had a seafood lunch in a small beach town that catered to Marines from a nearby base. They knew the surveillance team was following, but neither of them was able to pick out the surveillance. At four on a clear pleasant day, they drove into Laguna Beach and decided to stay at the Inn at Laguna Beach, a pleasant seaside hotel. They chose a third floor room with a view of the Pacific. It would have been a fun day if they hadn’t been concerned about living through it. They’d shut the curtains on the Pacific Ocean view right after sunset.

  The next night they drove up to Santa Barbara, one of their favorite coastal towns. They had come here for vacations many times when they lived in LA, and it was the memorable location of their honeymoon night. They saw no signs of the surveillance team or the Park Sniper. This time they rented a room at a hotel near the beach. The room opened onto a courtyard with a sparkling fountain and a thousand flowers. They had been afraid to stand and enjoy the beach views from the windows and balconies of their previous hotels. They had an excellent seafood dinner on a terrace overlooking the courtyard garden, and they really relaxed for the first time since their warning from Agent Shultz in San Diego. They drank a bottle of Santa Barbara County white wine and reenacted their honeymoon night as best they could over thirty-five years later.

  Although they’d been told to keep on the move, they decided to spend another night in Santa Barbara. Early the next morning, Mike exchanged their rental car for another model and color. Their own vehicles were still in their garage in Sedona since they’d taken the airport shuttle to Phoenix for their trip to Paris. Once they got the OK from the FBI, they would drive to Sedona to turn in their rental car and get a lift from the rental agency to their house. For their final day in Santa Barbara, they planned to go to their favorite nearby beach, relax on the sand, and have hamburgers at a restaurant that had been there since before their honeymoon. In the afternoon they’d walk around Solvang, buy some Danish cookies and return to Santa Barbara for dinner at their favorite Thai place.

  Mike called the surveillance team, but they vetoed the idea of the beach. It was surrounded by cliffs where an unseen sniper could hide and have a perfect shot. That was a downer and brought them back to the reality of their situation. Mike was a prime target of the most infamous serial killer in the nation. They both wanted the stress and apprehension over with. Mike hoped they would be ready to return to Sedona within a few days.

  They were enjoying the Monterey Bay Aquarium when Mike received a call from Sheriff Taylor. “The FBI has finished setting up your house. I haven’t seen it in person, but they showed me photos. I was impressed with their work and your magician idea. The agent in charge of the stakeout will be calling you at noon with the details, but you and Margaret can come home now. Stay safe my friend.”

  “Thanks Sheriff. I’ll see you at work day after tomorrow. We’ll head toward home this afternoon, probably staying in Laughlin overnight tonight.”

  They were eating a meal at a restaurant on the wharf, one with a panoramic view of the Pacific, when Agent Schultz called.

  “Captain Damson, we’re ready for you to return home. We’ll have a car with two agents in front of your house around the clock. It would look suspicious if we provided no protection after the attack in Paris. The agents are there to force the sniper to consider a long-range attack. They will circle your house on foot every fifteen minutes. We have two FBI vans to pick you and your wife up for work each morning and bring both of you home in the evenings. We’re trying to force him into his sniper mode. Frankly, our profiler was shocked that he tried to kill you with a knife in Paris, but she thinks he assumed it would be an easy kill and escape.”

  “So everything went smoothly during your modification to our house?” Mike asked.

  “Hum, not exactly. We had blocked the Wi-Fi for the neighborhood to disable the sniper’s spy cameras, but two of your neighbors called the Sedona Police reporting that a moving van was at your house in the middle of the night. We’d informed the local police of the operation, so they didn’t send anyone. When no one came, your neighbor, a retired General, named John, came over with a shotgun. An elderly man named Joe was with him. Joe carried an antique 1911 Colt forty-five that had been in his family since World War I. We had to explain to your neighbors what was going on. Of course, they knew about the Park Sniper and your involvement in the case. We were lucky that no one was hurt. I doubt if the 45 had been cleaned since World War I. It might have blown up in your neighbor’s face.”

  “So how much damage did they need to do to our house?” Margaret asked, and Mike repeated it to Agent Schultz.

  “We brought in a new dining room table cut at an angle so that in the mirror it will will appear to be a wooden table for eight with two placements at one end. While you’re sitting at the table, you will actually be behind a steel plate eight feet high on the backside of the mirror. The setup will make it seem you’re eating in plain sight. We did the same for the living room. One of your couches is in storage with your dining room table. When you sit on the remaining couch and watch TV you’ll be well protected by the steel plates on the reverse sides of the mirror. It will seem strange from the inside, but we checked it from a dozen places, including Airport Mesa, the Snoopy Rock area, the water tower in uptown, and the roof of the Hyatt. The illusion is perfect even through a high-powered scope. I’m convinced that he’ll take the shot. Once you return to Sedona, we’ll have our roadblocks ready and our helicopters prepositioned. I will have forty agents and the help of the whole Sedona Police Department. I swear he will not get away if he takes a shot at you.”

  “You have a device that detects the direction of the shot. Is it visible to the sniper? It might scare him away.”

  “Captain Damson, we took the liberty of removing the copper cap on your bedroom fireplace and putting the device in there before replacing the cap with a six inch gap for the device’s sensors. It’s not visible even through a spotter’s scope. That chimney is the highest point on the creek side of your home. Please don’t use the fireplace. It’s possible that he’ll think this is too easy, but our profiler thinks he will be so frustrated by failure to kill you after flying all the way to Paris that he won’t skip this opportunity.”

  Margaret asked, “What about the other rooms? Our bedroom has a lot of glass on that same side.”

  After Mike repeated the question into the phone, Agent Schultz explained. “We have steel plates standing in front of the other windows on that side of the house. The only windows that will provide a target are the living room and dining room. You’ll be completely safe in both the master bedroom and its bath. We tested the steel against the same type of weapon he’s been using.”

  Mike explained, “We’ll return the rental car to Enterprise in Sedona late tomorrow afternoon. Normally, they will give us a ride home.”

  “Text me when you get near the overlook at the top of the switchbacks on 89A. We’ll have one of our vans waiting to take you home. We can return the rental car for you. We don’t want either of you in an ordinary vehicle in Sedona until this is all over.”

  The trap was set except for the bait. Mike and Margaret spent the night at Harrah’s in Laughlin. The hotel had a non-smoking section in their casino. Neither was much of a gambler, but Margaret had a very lucky jackpot on a progr
essive quarter slot. Over eight thousand would more than cover the extension of their Paris trip to California and probably the repair they would need to make to their house after the FBI was through with it. Even in the best case, a huge glass window would need to be replaced when a bullet shattered it.

  Rather than keep playing and put a lot of the money back in the machines, Margaret treated Mike to a T-bone steak at the casino’s best restaurant. They drank an excellent forty-five-dollar wine and shared a slice of raspberry cheesecake for dessert. As they enjoyed the meal overlooking the slow moving boats on the Colorado, both felt that their luck had changed for the better. Tomorrow they would be home; soon after that, their ordeal might be over.

  When they pulled into the Oak Creek Canyon overlook, Mike parked next to a Ford van with an Oak Creek Furniture logo on the side. The uniformed driver got out and opened the back. Margaret and Mike scrambled in to find the back contained four comfortable recliners securely bolted to the floor. There were no windows in the back and a closed door separated them from the front seat. Steel plates were welded to the sides of the back section. Mike handed the rental car keys to the driver who passed them on to a second man who entered their rental sedan. The van’s back doors slammed shut, and they were on their way down the switchbacks to Sedona.

  With no view outside the vehicle, the jerky ride down the switchbacks was slightly nauseating. Mike would have enjoyed seeing the clear creek and spring foliage of sycamores and cottonwood along a route he traveled from Sedona to Flagstaff each workday. It had been a month since he had been on this scenic road. Travel in a windowless van would be his routine until the sniper was apprehended. Twenty minutes later the van stopped at their driveway. He heard the garage door open and they drove in. When the back doors of the van were opened, he realized that both of their vehicles had been removed from their familiar garage to make room for the van that would pick them up each morning. The driver could tell he was surprised and said, “Your Department vehicle is in its parking place at your building is Flagstaff. Your wife’s Highlander is stored with some of your furniture. There will be no temptation to drive. We’re here for whatever you need.”