Murder at Broadcast Park
Page 16
Even writing this doesn’t upset me. This was part of my job and I did it without a conscience. Stewart joined Jesse in the living room. The greeting was pleasant. Stewart didn’t let on how upset the way they parted had made him feel. He simply engaged Jesse in conversation while she quietly drank her diet Coke. The plan was for Stewart to continue the conversation until such time that Jesse would just drift off to death. Then Stewart had to be Stewart.
Jesse could tell in a very short time that something was happening to her. She knew she felt different and it was obvious to her that Dugan had put something into her drink. She didn’t realize how deadly it was until Stewart told her. This was the mean streak that only a few ever saw from Stewart Simpson. Usually this side was saved for business deals and not the girls. I stood outside the room so I could hear what was going on in case anything went wrong. Stewart was careful not to touch Jesse, but he wanted to make sure she knew what was happening and why. He leaned into what was now a limp body and told her that she should never have threatened him. He could never take a chance that a girl like her could possibly try and ruin him. It just wasn’t going to happen.
Jesse was gone. Stewart called for me to join him in the room. We picked her up. Stewart had her legs and I took her arms. We carried her to the shower in my suite. We left her there lying on the shower floor to make absolutely sure she had died. Once we were sure, I took her clothes off carefully and, wearing gloves, made sure not to leave any marks on her body. I then turned the water on and let it shower her, making sure not to get any in her mouth so water wouldn’t end up in her lungs. Once I was sure any and all evidence was washed away, I dried her off and redressed her. I then placed her in the garage on a plastic sheet.
The plan that Stewart and I conceived had worked perfectly so far. We had nine hours before Steve would be at the house. Steve was told by Stewart not to discuss this meeting with anyone. He wanted this meeting just between the two of them. Steve respected his owner’s wishes. It wasn’t the first time he was invited to a late night dinner at the owner’s house. This had taken place a handful of times during his career, so it didn’t feel out of the ordinary when he got this invitation.
I wondered if Stewart hadn’t planned something like this a long time ago. He had perfectly set up his male anchor for what was going to happen later this night. Steve would be over around 11:45 after his newscast was over. Stewart watched the newscast.
Steve Johnson drove up to the house. I met his car and escorted him in. I then went out front and drove his car to the garage area. Steve and Stewart were engaged in conversation. Steve seemed very relaxed as Stewart showed him around his house and pointed out some of the special items in his art collection. He was aware that Steve had minored in art appreciation in college.
I called the two to dinner where the soup was already waiting for them when they took their seats at the table. This was followed by the salad and then the main course of steak and lobster. Writing this, it is hard to understand my lack of feeling for what we were doing and what we had already done. Stewart Simpson had been a good teacher over the years. He likened himself to the Godfather, his favorite movie. “It wasn’t personal. It was strictly business.”
An hour into the meal, Steve Johnson collapsed at the table. I was close by and when I could see he was going out I was there to catch his head. My hands were covered by my gloves to make sure no evidence was found. Once we knew he was expired, we moved him to the garage where Jesse’s body was lying.
We carefully placed both bodies in the trunk of Steve’s car. My job was to drive Steve’s car to his house and pull it into the garage. I had watched Steve drive home several nights to make sure I would not do anything out of his ordinary routine. I followed it to a tee. I made sure to wear his coat and baseball cap he liked to wear so any nosy neighbor would think it was Steve in the car.
I parked the car in the garage. I carried Jesse’s body from the trunk to inside the house entering from the garage through the kitchen. I removed her clothes and put her in the bed in the master bedroom. Stewart thought this would be a great distraction, forcing the police to investigate a relationship that didn’t exist.
I was surprised at how fast I was able to get this accomplished. My adrenaline was probably the reason. Next I drove Steve’s car to the station’s back parking lot. I had his electronic pass and was able to use that to get in the back door. The rope was my idea. This was another planned diversion that would occupy everyone’s focus for at least a short time, allowing any possible trail to disappear. I threw the rope over the light grid and dropped it down, placing the noose around Steve’s neck. At that time of night there was only one employee inside the building. I never worried about the master control operator because I knew he wouldn’t be paying attention to anything outside his work space.
Finally, with everything in place, I exited the back door and walked to the street outside the gated parking lot. Stewart was there to pick me up. The two of us drove back to the house. We didn’t say much to each other. Once back at the house we made sure anything used was burned in the large fireplace located on my side of the house.
Dugan finished reading from his writings. He removed the flash drive and put it back in its hiding place. It was the only insurance he had. He hoped he would never need it. In his line of work, you never knew.
17
JOHN RANKIN, THE YOUNG REPORTER, felt fortunate to have had a role in the panhandling scheme story. Although Carlos took the lead, John felt he was very generous about giving the rookie some face time on what could be the story of the year.
But John was equally as frustrated that he had little traction on the Johnson murder case. Now that the panhandling story was completed, he needed to get back on that investigation.
John knocked on Barry’s door. The news director knew his cub reporter might be disappointed that he had taken a back seat to Carlos.
“Come in, John. What’s going on? Take a seat. You’ve had a pretty good couple of weeks. You didn’t get anything on the two murders, but you did get to work with Carlos and Tommy on the panhandling story. So what’s on your mind?”
John was shocked at the bluntness of his boss. He didn’t have to say anything because Barry continued without waiting for a reply.
“Look, you’re new in this position. You probably thought you were ready, and all I can tell you is that it takes time to develop your skills. What’d you think, that you were going to uncover some incredible evidence in the Steve and Jesse story and solve the case? I gave you the opportunity because of your enthusiasm. It would have been easy to have told you that you don’t have the experience. You needed to find that out by trying.”
“So why did you let me work on these stories?” John asked.
“How do you think you get experience? Everyone in news has to go through this learning curve. Your learning has just started. Hell, we didn’t get it right on the Steve and Jesse story in the beginning. We went on the air saying that Steve’s wife was the second victim. It happens. Shit just happens sometimes.”
“Barry, I’m not disappointed. In fact, I’m elated about the work I have gotten to do. What I want from you is some of your wisdom. Tell me how I can get better.”
Barry remembered what Carlos said about John having the it factor.
“Fuck, John. Get up every day and work your ass off. Think out of the box. Practice your craft. Be creative. Work on your delivery. Do whatever it takes,” Barry said.
Not quite the speech John was looking for, but he got what his boss was trying to tell him.
“John, you have the makings to be a good reporter. Can you be good enough to make it out of Santa Barbara? That’s up to you. But living in Santa Barbara and being a news person here isn’t a bad life to live. Hell, only a month ago you were working the assignment desk. Now you’re my newest reporter. Get the fuck out of my office and go report something.”
John knew Barry was serious and got up and left the office. It was time t
o go to the Firehouse and join his fellow newscasters.
The Firehouse was filled with news people from all three local stations. There seemed to be a large sales contingency as well. David Pedderman was there entertaining a couple of his sales people. John stopped by their table to say hi. He noticed the sales manager was playing footsies with Carol, one of the station’s newest sales people. He noticed this because he had been eyeing Carol from the day she walked into the station. She was John’s age and a real knockout.
His first reaction was to try and rescue her from the married sales manager. John had second thoughts and figured he didn’t need any more drama this evening.
Pedderman had been married thirteen years and had three young children. It was easy for him to have a second life outside of his marriage. He justified it by telling himself that as long as his wife never found out it was okay. Pedderman considered himself quite the player, and he usually preyed on the young, new sales girls he hired. He looked at it as part of their training. It was amazing what he could get a girl to do for the promise of one or two big accounts. The girls usually didn’t care because they were all single, young, and saw it as a way to get ahead. Occasionally, he ventured outside the sales arena for his encounters.
John was surprised to feel the tap on his shoulder only to turn around and see the sales manager standing behind him. “Mr. Pedderman, sir.”
“Call me David. You have a minute to talk?”
John barely knew Pedderman and couldn’t imagine what he wanted to talk to him about. “Sure.”
“Good. Let’s go over there in the corner where we can hear each other. Can I buy you a beer?”
“That would be nice. Thank you,” John said.
Pedderman flagged down a waitress and ordered a beer for the young reporter and one for himself. “John, we’ve never spent any time talking, but I’ve seen some of your work and you do a good job.”
John had no idea where this was going and he started feeling uncomfortable. Pedderman was loose-lipped and slurred his words slightly.
“John, you’re working on the Steve and Jesse story, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m helping out on it. Why?”
“I might have some information for you, but I can’t be involved in this. You get my drift?”
“What are your talking about? Do you have some information about the murders?”
“Look, I’m married, but I screw around. I spent some time with Jesse. She told me some things that made me feel like she might be in trouble.”
“Mr. Pedderman, you need to tell the police. Especially if you think you might have some information that might help them.”
“You’re not listening. I can’t jeopardize my marriage so I can’t get involved. I thought if I shared what Jesse told me, then you could go to the police.”
“What did Jesse tell you?” John reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his pen and note paper. “You mind if I take a few notes? It helps me remember key details.”
“That’s okay. You just can’t use my name and I will deny this conversation ever took place.” Pedderman took a long drink. “I hooked up with Jesse her first week. She told me that she had been involved with someone who helped her get the job at the station.”
“That doesn’t sound like a problem,” John commented.
“She said this person was holding his influence and money over her and when she told him she was done he flipped out.”
“Who is the person?” John asked
“She never revealed his name to me. She just told me that he was a lot older than her and that he had taken care of her and paid for everything she had.” Pedderman motioned a waitress for another drink.
“Why would he do that?”
“Sex,” Pedderman said rather loudly, annoyed by the question. “She said they had been together a long time, and when she broke it off, she said she threatened to tell people about their relationship. Jesse told me that he became very mad at being threatened.”
“You have to tell the police, Mr. Pedderman. What exactly was your involvement with her?”
“Look, I fuck around on my wife. That is what I do. I like fucking strangers. I can’t help myself. Whenever a pretty girl gets hired at the station, I make my play. Sometimes, I’m rejected, and more times than not, I score. Jesse was one of the easier ones. She was lonely and horny and wanted company like I did. We were fuck buddies and that’s all.”
***
John didn’t sleep that night. He thought about calling his boss, Barry, but decided he’d wait until morning. He finally fell asleep around 2:30 when the phone rang.
“John, this is David Pedderman.”
“Yeah, Mr. Pedderman, everything okay?”
“Look, I was drunk tonight and I don’t want you to worry about anything I said. I don’t even remember what I said, but I know I probably talked your ear off. Just forget about it, okay?”
“Not a problem, Mr. Pedderman. Can I go back to sleep now?” John faked being more asleep than he was. “See you tomorrow.”
John got up, grabbed a notepad and started writing down everything that had happened. He wanted a clear recollection in the morning. He tried getting back to sleep but couldn’t. At seven, John picked up the phone and called his boss.
Barry stirred awake.
“Mr. Burke, can I meet with you?”
Barry recognized the urgency in his young reporter’s voice. “What’s up, John?”
“I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. Can you meet me this morning? It’s pretty important.”
Barry didn’t hesitate. “Let’s meet at Denny’s for breakfast. It’s seven now. How about seven thirty?”
“Thank you. I will see you at Denny’s in half an hour.”
Thirty minutes later, the young reporter and his boss arrived at Denny’s.
“John, you look terrible. You go on a binge last night?” Barry asked.
“I wish that was the case. I have to tell you something, something important.”
For the next half hour, Barry listened to his rookie tell him what happened last night with David Pedderman. Barry wasn’t showing any emotion as he listened. By the time John was done telling and re-telling his story, he seemed exhausted. The lack of sleep was a big part of it, but so was the emotion that the reporter was feeling.
“Barry, I know I’m on to something here, and I’m not quite sure what to do with it.”
“John, I don’t know what you have here. I will tell you that I want to call my detective friend and have you tell him what you told me. You okay with that?”
“If that’s what you think we should do. What about Mr. Pedderman? He told me to forget about what he told me. What’s he going to think if he finds out I not only told you, but that I spoke to the police?”
Barry didn’t pull any punches. “Fuck him.”
“Barry, I want your promise that I get to tell this story as it unfolds. I don’t want you giving this to Carlos or anyone else. This came to me and I want to own this part of the story.”
Barry smiled, knowing he had a real reporter in development.
“I will let you do as much of this as you can handle. But, and this is a big but, as soon as I see, or think, that you are in over your head, I will give it to someone else.”
“Okay, then. I’ll meet with your detective friend. When do you want to do it?” John asked. “And what about Ms. Campbell? Shouldn’t we fill in the general manager? I don’t want to get fired over this.”
“Don’t worry, kid. I’ve got your back.”
Barry took his cell phone off the table and punched in Richard Tracy’s number. The detective answered after several rings.
“Barry, this better be good. It’s eight in the fucking morning and I’m sleeping.”
“I need for you to get dressed and come over to Denny’s. I have some new information about the Johnson–Anderson murders.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” shouted back the detective.
“Come alone. You can fill Skip Reynolds in later.”
John was impressed at how quickly his boss got things moving. He thought that came from great connections. He wanted to make sure his Rolodex in his cell phone would give him those same capabilities. From this moment on he would make it a point to put every contact in his cell phone no matter how insignificant it might be.
Barry next called Lisa’s number. He was relieved when there wasn’t an answer. “Lisa, this is Barry. I’m with John Rankin and he’s got some information we need to share with our detective friends. Call me when you get this.”
Twenty minutes later, the detective entered the restaurant. Barry and John were sitting in the back corner by themselves. They had moved from a regular booth to a more round-table booth so the three would have more room. Richard Tracy slid in.
“So, what’s so important that you had to drag me out on a Saturday morning?”
“John here had something happen last night that I think you should know about. Go ahead, John, and fill Detective Tracy in on your story. Tell him exactly what you told me this morning,” Barry instructed John.
John had calmed his nerves and wasn’t as on edge as he was when he first sat down with his boss. He told the story almost exactly as he did when he told Barry. The detective listened, never touching his coffee. The detectives didn’t have David Pedderman on their radar. They certainly didn’t know that the sales manager had been banging Jesse Anderson. What else was David Pedderman involved in, he wondered?
After sitting at the table for more than two hours, the three got up to leave.