Murder at Broadcast Park

by Bill Evans

Pedderman let his head hang down, as if he were in shame. “She left me.”

  “Do you think she thinks you killed these people?” the owner asked.

  “No. I think she finally got tired of hearing all about my affairs. When she heard about my involvement with Jesse, that was pretty much the last straw.”

  Stewart noticed his guest wasn’t eating. “David, please eat. You are going to need your strength. Dugan has prepared a great meal of steak and lobster. It’s to die for.” Little did Pedderman know how true that statement would be. That was Stewart Simpson’s sick sense of humor. He thought of himself as a “Hannibal” persona, and even though his guest wouldn’t get the severity of his humor, it was still fun in a sick way for Stewart to play this little game of words.

  Stewart kept an eye on the clock. The one thing he didn’t need was for Lisa to show up and find her sales manager at the house. He didn’t want to give her anything else to make her more suspicious than she already was. He wasn’t sure, but he did suspect that she wanted to come over this evening for more than just sex.

  “David, tell me about your relationship with Jesse. How did the two of you hook up?” Stewart wanted to know the details because he didn’t like the fact that someone was playing in his playground. When it came to the other sex, he was very much a kid in a candy store.

  “I had an affair with her. That’s all it was. I started to talk with her and knew she was upset about a relationship that she said went bad. I probably took advantage of her and we ended up together,” Pedderman confessed. I have to be honest if I want his help, he thought.

  Dugan, as usual, stayed close by to hear everything that was going on in the dining room. By this time he had picked up the salad plates and delivered the steak and lobster. He could tell by hearing his boss’s voice and the questions he was asking that his boss was about to get agitated with his guest. Dugan knew how Stewart’s ego and jealously worked when it came to women. His job now was to make sure that the rest of the evening went as planned. It was too late to make changes to tonight’s master plan. The key was to keep the execution of the plan as in tact as possible to ensure its success. And to calm his boss down.

  Dugan poured Pedderman another glass of wine. “How’s your steak, Mr. Pedderman?”

  “The entire menu is great. Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had steak and lobster.” Turning to his host and speaking in a broken tone, “Mr. Simpson, thank you for inviting me this evening. You don’t know what it means.”

  “David, we’re going to get you through this. Have a little more wine,” and with that Stewart poured into David’s glass.

  It was obvious to both Dugan and Mr. Simpson that their guest was starting to feel the effects of the sodium azide that was in the wine and the water. Pedderman was beginning to have trouble breathing. Sodium azide worked quickly shutting down the heart. Stewart had gotten up and gone to his library and returned to the table with a photo album. This was the meanness that Stewart displayed whenever he was going to crush his opponent. It wasn’t good enough for him to just win, he wanted his opponent to know that he had destroyed him and controlled the entire situation from start to finish.

  Pedderman was not innocent after all; he did have an affair. His whole life was an affair. But the only one that mattered was the one affair he had with Stewart Simpson’s Jesse. In Stewart Simpson’s mind, that justified making Pedderman the fall guy for everything.

  Stewart opened up the photo album and put it in front of Pedderman. The color was beginning to go out of his face and his breathing became harder and harder. The sales manager knew as soon as he saw the first pictures that something was very wrong. There was Jesse with Stewart traveling in Europe, skiing in Switzerland, and playing around in Hawaii. Pedderman looked up at his host and it began to dawn on him that the whole night was a set-up. He started to think that this was what happened to Jesse and Steve, but he didn’t know why. So he asked. Looking up at Stewart Simpson and Dugan, he simply said in a very quiet voice, “Why?” And with that his face fell to the table and he was dead.

  21

  DUGAN BROUGHT IN THE plastic tarp and laid it down on the floor. He got behind Pedderman’s body, sliding the corpse onto the tarp. He then made sure every part of his body was wrapped and dragged him from the dining room to the kitchen where Stewart awaited with a plastic bag, similar to the one found in Pedderman’s garage by the police. He took it and placed it in Dugan’s trunk. Together the two men lifted the big sales manager and carefully placed him in the trunk. Dugan wasn’t so sure how he was going to lift this big guy out of the trunk by himself. Stewart Simpson had to ready himself for Lisa, who would be arriving any minute.

  “Are we clear on the plan? Are you sure you can handle the body by yourself?” Stewart asked his confidant.

  “It’s going to be tough, but what choice do we have?” Dugan had been there before, in fact, several times over the past twenty years.

  “Get back here as quickly as possible. We don’t want Lisa to question anything.”

  Dugan got in his car and drove out of the garage and headed the twenty minutes back to David Pedderman’s house. He was hoping that Pedderman’s wife was not going to have a second thought about coming home, at least not this particular night.

  Stewart did his best to clean up the dishes and move everything off the table to the kitchen. This was not a job he ever did, so it was a struggle.

  Dugan pulled into Pedderman’s driveway. It was earlier than he planned, but he couldn’t take a chance on Lisa discovering Pedderman at the house. It was not as dark as he wanted it to be, making the task trickier because he didn’t have Pedderman’s garage door opener. He got out of the car and quickly went to the front door where he let himself in with Pedderman’s keys. He then closed all the blinds and opened the garage door. Pedderman’s car was there but Anna’s car was gone, so there was room for Dugan to pull into the garage and close the door.

  Dugan mustered all his strength and began easing the body out of the trunk, keeping it wrapped in the plastic. He was very careful not to leave any DNA evidence behind anywhere. It took almost twenty minutes for Dugan to get the body out of the trunk, pull it into the house, and place the dead Pedderman at the dining table. Dugan then returned to the trunk and, taking the plastic bag that Stewart Simpson provided, took out the contents and left them next to the body—the gun and bullet found by the police. Dugan placed the revolver and bullet the police had found on the table. He then sat Pedderman’s body in the dining room chair; he folded the arms on the table and leaned the corpse forward.

  The final touch was a note that the police would find at some point that would appear to be a suicide note. Everything was in place.

  Dugan backtracked, making sure to lock up the house and leave no traces. He then rushed home.

  Lisa literally ended up following Dugan up the circular driveway. Stewart’s assistant jumped out of his car to open Lisa’s car door.

  “Dugan, are you just getting back from a late-night run?” Lisa’s question was simply innocent, but considering what Dugan had just done he wondered if she knew something.

  “So, where’s the ice cream?” she asked.

  Dugan’s expression told Lisa that he didn’t have a clue what she meant by that. “Dugan, it’s a joke. I thought maybe Stewart sent you out to the store or something,” and after a couple of beats she added, “and the ice cream was just my wishful thinking.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t quite sure what you were asking me.” Trying to move off the conversation, Dugan quickly added, “Let me show you to the door. Stewart is anxiously waiting for you.”

  Nothing more was said as Lisa entered the big house. There, as if knowing she was coming through the door, was Stewart Simpson standing with his lover’s glass of chardonnay. Stewart handed her the glass and gave her a slight embrace and Lisa responded unexpectedly by giving Stewart a very passionate kiss. Stewart hoped that sex would be her focus this night. He would love to lose himself w
ith her physically. He didn’t want to think about what had happened in his house before she arrived.

  It was like time didn’t exist for the next couple of hours. Stewart felt it as much as she did. Whatever was going on this evening, it was different for both of them. Different in a great way, and it wasn’t just the sex. It was everything that two people who are passionately in love feel when things are right between the two of them.

  Stewart knew he was in love with Lisa, but he had never let himself feel the way this night was feeling. He had always protected himself. Love was too complicated for him. In his mind, love was too expensive.

  Few words were spoken over the hours they spent in Stewart’s master bedroom. It was as if the two were making love for the first time and the last time, and both of them understood it. Stewart wasn’t quite sure what to think about the emotions he was having. He wanted to hold Lisa and ask her what she was feeling. He wanted to know what was going on inside her, but he didn’t want to chance getting an answer he couldn’t handle. Instead, he just held her. He held her tight and so close their two hearts were beating together. It was the most intimacy the two had experienced in their entire life together, and neither knew what to do with these feelings.

  As they lay together holding each other, Lisa broke the silence. “What if,” she started and then stopped her words.

  “What if,” Stewart repeated as if to pry her next words from her lips.

  “What if I were to leave Tom?” The embrace that was tightly holding the two together loosened as Stewart leaned away so he could look directly into his lover’s eyes. He wanted to say the right thing. Instead he said nothing.

  Lisa pulled Stewart closer and put her head under his chin as if she hadn’t said anything. Stewart’s lack of immediate response was his response. It had been that way for twenty years. Why did she think it would change now? As hard as Stewart struggled to say something, something that would let Lisa know how he truly felt about her, the words didn’t come. And for the next fifteen minutes the two laid together embracing each other, neither one brave enough to express the love they both felt in fear of losing it all.

  ***

  Dugan was in the kitchen finishing with the cleanup from dinner earlier that evening. Lisa entered fully dressed and ready to leave. “Do you have any coffee made?” Her voice was soft and quiet.

  “Let me get you some.” Dugan got out a cup and poured his guest a nice fresh cup. He knew she took a little milk, and without being asked, he prepared it exactly the way she liked it. Dugan was as much a part of this relationship as Stewart, only without the fringe benefits. He didn’t quite understand why these two people had never made it a permanent thing. He was smart enough to know that was probably what kept the relationship alive.

  “You know I love him,” Lisa said looking directly at Dugan.

  “And Mrs. Campbell, he loves you. More than he would ever admit,” Dugan said as if he was saying it for Stewart.

  Lisa didn’t know if Dugan’s reference to “Mrs. Campbell” was a reminder to her that she was the one married or if that was just his way of addressing her at this particular moment. “We’ve certainly been through a lot together, Dugan. Why have you stayed?”

  Lisa’s question was in search for an answer to her own question. Dugan and she were alike in many ways. They both endured a very long relationship with someone who probably wasn’t capable of returning the same kind of relationship back to them, and yet they both stayed. She hoped Dugan would answer the question and that his answer might help explain her own staying power.

  “Mrs. Campbell, I stayed because even with all his faults he stood beside me in my darkest moment. He gave me a place to come to terms with everything that was bad that I had to deal with.” Dugan paused as he thought through his words. He didn’t know how much Lisa knew about his relationship with Stewart. He assumed she knew more than anyone else outside of the three of them, but he still didn’t know how much that was. “Lisa, he saved my life at one point.”

  “Was that when you lost your family?” Lisa said.

  Dugan knew by her question that she knew more than he thought.

  “Yes. That was a very dark moment for me and without Mr. Simpson I probably wouldn’t be here talking to you right now.” Dugan didn’t want to be the center of the conversation anymore so he asked the only thing he could.

  “What about you? Why have you stayed around all these years knowing it would never be more than a relationship of convenience?”

  “I don’t know. There were times I never wanted to see him again. But we have something that I can’t explain. I love him, and truth be told, I love him more than my own husband.” There. She had said it to someone else. “I better go.” Lisa took a last sip from the cup and put it on the counter. She then walked over to Dugan and without hesitation leaned up and kissed him on his cheek. The two of them had something in common that gave them a bond few would understand. They shared Stewart Simpson and they shared deep, deep secrets. Secrets that only the two of them knew, and those were stories for another time.

  22

  “BARRY BURKE.” THE NEWS DIRECTOR answered his cell phone while driving along the coast heading to work.

  “Barry, its Richard. I wanted to give you a head’s up that we’re going to arrest David Pedderman sometime this morning. I’ll call you when we are heading over there.”

  “Thanks, Richard. I’ll have my people there.”

  Normally, the detectives never tipped the media about an arrest, but Richard Tracy and Skip Reynolds felt like the station was as much a part of this case as they were. They wanted to return the cooperation.

  Barry pulled off the highway to make a call to the station. “John, get your cameraman and be ready to roll at any time this morning. I’ll call you when it’s time. The Santa Barbara police are going to arrest Pedderman sometime this morning. Be ready to go so you can capture it.”

  John’s young reporter mind was running. He wanted to talk to Pedderman before the police arrested him. He knew all the reasons he shouldn’t. He also knew the one reason he should; it is what good reporter’s do.

  John Rankin was impatient with his career. He knew he had come a long way in a short time. He felt screwed when he tried to play by the system and rules of the news room when Carlos took the lead with the panhandling story. This rookie wasn’t going to get beat again. Forget waiting for his photographer. He would go to the station, get the camera gear, and go alone. The only question in his mind was whether or not he should call Pedderman first or just show up. If he was going to do this, then he should just do it, he thought. No phone call, no warning. I’ll just show up and shoot my own interview. What’s he going to do? The worst thing is he won’t talk to me. No, the worst thing is he might hit me.

  John debated whether or not to tell Pedderman that the police were coming. Get the interview first, he thought. See how that goes and then maybe tell him.

  The reporter pulled the car up in front of the Pedderman house. It looked dark, like no one was home. John sat for what seemed like an hour in his car talking himself through the scenario trying to build up his courage. Then he just said to himself, “Fuck it, let’s do this.” John got out of the car, opened the back door, and grabbed the camera gear.

  Standing on the porch, the silence from inside the home was spooky. John knew Pedderman’s wife had left and taken the kids. The silence was eerie. The reporter rang the doorbell once, then a second time, and then a third time. He couldn’t really see into any windows. Surveying the neighborhood, he looked around to see if there was any activity on the street. There wasn’t. It might have been the hour of the morning. Finally, he reached for the front door handle to see if the house was unlocked. It wasn’t.

  Debating his next move, he remembered Barry’s story about how he and Detective Reynolds found Jesse’s body. They got into the house through the back door, so reaching down to pick up his gear, he walked off the porch and around to the backyard gate. Luckily, th
ere wasn’t a lock on the gate, and he was able to reach his arm over and around to flip the latch. John was sure if any neighbors were watching, the police would probably be showing up really soon.

  Drapes closed off all the windows. There was no way to get a view into the Pedderman home. John tried the back door leading out of the house from the patio slider. It was locked. Just by chance, and to make sure he had exhausted all his options, he walked over and turned the handle on the door leading to the backyard from the garage. It turned. John was in, at least in the garage. David’s car was there. He touched the hood partly because he had seen that done a million times on those TV detective shows. The engine was cold.

  Walking over to the door that led to the inside of the house, John’s heart was beating faster than he ever remembered it beating before. The adrenaline was almost overwhelming. He kept reminding himself to stay calm, stay calm. The door leading to the kitchen was open. Now he was in.

  As the reporter took his first step into the kitchen area he could see what looked to be David Pedderman slumped at the dining table with his face down in his folded arms as if taking a nap.

  “David,” John said quietly as if he didn’t want to startle him. “David,” this time his volume rose a couple of levels. There was no reaction.

  John took a few steps closer, and with each step he sensed something was very wrong. Pedderman stayed in position and John noticed he wasn’t moving, not even to take a breath. He wasn’t breathing, and the young reporter almost collapsed from the realization that the sales manager was dead.

  “Oh, fuck. Now what?”

  At that moment his cell phone rang, almost giving him a heart attack.

  “Hello.” His voice trembled.

  “John, its Barry.” There was silence on the other end. “John, are you there?”

  “Yes, this is John,” he said almost in a whisper.

  “Speak up. I can barely hear you. Are you ready to go? The police are heading to Pedderman’s house right now. If you leave now you can get there in time to get shots of them taking him from the home to the police car. Talk to Richard Tracy. He told me he would give you a sound bite.”