The Cult of the White Owl

by Barbara Lefka

  “Chief I think I found something. They might be photo’s.”

  “Get them out of there, let’s take a look.” Jake made a grab for the pictures.

  “It looks like a Halloween party, masks, conical hats, robes and…. what do you know, a white owl!” Jake was elated. “How many photos are here?”

  “Practically an album full, look at that blanket. They look like South Sea Pearls, incredible.” Murphy started pulling the black and white pictures out of the secret compartment in the bottom of the desk drawer. There were pictures of what looked like a church service with the white owl on the altar and the congregation, heads bowed, posed as though in prayer to the bird. The owl, depicted in the photo, landing on the shoulder of a man in the center of the crowd and then another photo of the man being guided away by an individual in decorated robes with symbols and signs on the front of his tunic and down his left sleeve obviously a leader or maybe even THE leader.

  Smith walked over to the detectives and glancing over their shoulder was astonished at the whole white owl operation depicted in black and white, and said as much to Jake.

  “Well not the whole operation, so far we haven’t identified the murderer, or have we? What about the man the bird landed on and the guy with the decorated robe, who led him away, maybe he got the bid?”

  “The bid?” Murphy asked.

  “The bid to a kill!” Jake responded. “Murphy take these photo’s to headquarters and assign another detective and yourself to go through them with a fine tooth comb and put them in some sort of order. If anything or anyone looks familiar to you put it aside for me, I’m going to the lab with Smith to go over what he found last night. You keep the car and I will ride with forensics to the morgue and the lab. After, I will see you back at the station.”

  Murphy gathered the photographs and headed out the door, he wanted to get a closer look at one photo in particular.

  Jake took a second look around the house with an extra glance at the kitchen door and the still bloody tile in front of it. He glanced at Smith who told him he had the blood covered. Jake walked out the back door and took in the grounds and the officers still looking for clues to the identity of the killer. Not wanting to rush to judgment where Davis was concerned. Maybe there were two? Maybe it was the heavy set man the owl landed on in the photograph. No, it stands to reason, McCane knew his attacker.

  “Okay let’s get going, I don’t want this case to get away from us. I would like to have Priscilla study the photographs as well. Someone familiar to her just might be identified and we can get closer to solving this mystery

  The mystery, Smith thought to himself as he rode next to Jake, was how far reaching the infiltration into the department’s affairs go. If a valued police officer became a cold blooded killer, with no remorse, pretty far.

  When they arrived at the police morgue he took Jake to the evidence room where he had Davis’s uniform and accessories laid out.

  “Now Chief if you notice the back pocket of the pants, where Davis stashed his gloves, shows blood stains and the gloves are also bloody and there are signs of gun residue as well. The kitchen knife,” the doctor said, pointing to the knife, “has blood on the blade, Davis’s blood. It’s my contention that he stabbed himself in the shoulder to divert suspicion.”

  “What about the gunshot wound on the victim, were they fired from his gun?”

  “No, as a matter of fact, they were fired from a 22 caliber pistol found at the scene. Three shots were fired from Davis’s clip. Tom Wilson the detective in charge of the stakeout heard three shots as did the neighbors. The first shot was fired from the 22 into McCane, which Tom did not hear because he was out cold, and oh yes, the neighbors did not either because that pillow” Smith indicated the remains of the pillow, “was used as a makeshift silencer. It is yet to be determined whether Davis or McCane owned the 22 caliber pistol.”

  “How stupid can Davis be, he signed his own death warrant. Do you think he wanted to commit suicide by cop or in this case by jury? We have all the evidence we need to convict him of McCane’s attempted murder. How did he expect to get away with it?”

  “There is one more thing,” Smith handed Jake the bloody newspaper.

  “God, the newspaper Burnsey saw him buy at the drug store, and look an ad is circled.” They stared at each other in amazement. “A hasty kill is leading to perhaps a conviction of the whole organization. Restaurant for Rent this must be in code. But they are making a lot of mistakes, this might be a good address. Write it down for me Doc, and I’ll send someone to investigate. You can keep the newspaper, it is Davis’s blood, right?”

  “Yes and I have a sample cooking to see if we have a match with the blood taken from Caterina’s shoe and the semen on Natalie’s bed clothes.”

  “How long will it take to get results?”

  “The wheels of the god’s grind slowly’ but I will call as soon as I get a report.”

  “The autopsy on Richard, as you know, will be pretty straight forward, I am not expecting any surprises, but we will see.” Jake averted his eyes as he passed the remains of his friend and colleague. The M.E. noticing Jake’s reaction covered the D.A. as he walked with Jake through the morgue.

  “Also the bomb that killed Richard was as predictable, a simplistic device attached to the ignition. Turn the key and boom, boom goes the bomb. He did not have a prayer of a chance to survive the explosion.”

  “Doc I can’t thank you enough for your good work. In my absence you have secured the crime scene, gathered evidence, contained the suspect and even conducted a private tour of the crime. You are invaluable to the department and me.” Jake shook hands with his esteemed colleague who had turned a bright red from the praise.

  The car arrived for Jake, and Murphy was driving, “I can’t get away from you can I. Thought I ordered you to check out the photo’s we found in the drawer at McCane’s house?”

  “I did Chief but my eyes needed a rest from all the robes and pointed hats. Where would you like to go, and I hope it’s not headquarters.”

  “I want the photo’s cataloged. They are important; A man is close to death because of them and another traded in his freedom and possibly his life, so yes very important. But we can check out this address we found in the want ads. It may possibly be the new headquarters of the White Owl” Jake handed over the address the doctor wrote for him.

  “I know this address, it’s a restaurant in Wayne, Pa. ‘The Old House Inn’ it was the scene of a gruesome murder between two partners and I believe a woman was involved.”

  “How do you know so much about it? “

  “Ten years ago I did my drinking at that watering hole, although Seagram’s 7and 7 was it for me. But my girl friend at the time, drank Sloe Gin fizzes so sticky sweet.” Murphy made a face. “She insisted we go there because in her opinion, the bartender made the best in town. The fizzes however made her sick to her stomach, but she never learned. I learned there was no percentage dating someone who couldn’t hold her liquor when all it got me was holding her head.”

  “Roll down your window Murphy, the smoke is so thick in here I can’t see your face.”

  “Slight exaggeration, but the restaurant has been closed for years, with no plans for a revitalization. It sounds perfect as a gathering place for a bunch of assassins. I wonder if the ghosts object.”

  “Ghosts “

  “Yeah, the place is haunted by no less of a celebrity than Edgar Allen Poe.

  Do we tip our hand and go barging in with force, a raid?”

  “No, we have to be subtle. We have no direct evidence to capture the White Owl. First; we must learn his identity, second; we have to produce witnesses that can attest to his involvement in the homicides. Till then we observe, interrogate, and then incarcerate.” Jake continued to elaborate.

  “I want you to set up a street construction team of our officers around
the clock, across the street from the restaurant. If anyone asks, tell them you are putting in new sewer pipes. That takes forever. I will square it with the city water department.”

  “Do you want to reconnoiter the restaurant while it is still empty?”

  “No Murphy we can get the plans from the city when we get back, let’s go…. your reprieve is over. Back to the photos.”

  “Not that I am stalling” Jake gave him a side ways glance, “no really. We have to go past the country club, why don’t we check out the assistant pro. See if it is Alain as everyone thinks and what is said about him.”

  “Brilliant, that has always been in the back of my mind but I never implemented it, well thought out.” Jake gave credit to his second in command for addressing what should have been a no brainer if not for the fact that he got side tracked.

  The country club loomed in front of them and the car hops rushed over to park the car but Murphy waved them away and continued driving to the courts and tennis office.

  “Yeah, what do you want,” asked the surly kid behind the counter as they entered the pro shop.

  “Murphy, show the badge and maybe take him in for questioning for rudeness.”

  Scared, the kid backed away from the counter and hit the shelves behind him with his back, dislodging stacks of tennis shoe boxes and knocking tennis ball cans to the ground.

  “Sorry sirs it’s been one of those days. How can I help you?”

  “Your too young to have ‘days.’ We are looking for the assistant pro Alain Kowanov. Is he around?”

  “Naw, he hasn’t been seen for quite awhile. He just never showed up for work after the death of the two lady members that got murdered. Do you think he killed them? I always thought he was a no good guy the way he would make passes at the attractive gals in the club. Funny they never seemed to mind, but when two got dead, he disappeared.” While he was talking to the detectives he picked up the shoe boxes and tennis ball cans and rearranged them neatly on the shelves.

  “Listen kid, what’s your name?” Murphy asked

  “Vic, like Vic Seixas, who won the French Open last year with his friend and doubles partner Tony Trabert also the U.S. Championship at Forest Hills and the Australian, and they are defending for a second win in 1955.” he said gushing, starry eyed with hero worship.

  “So I guess your middle name is Tony.” Murphy kidded him, seeing him blush to the roots of his red hair, he asked him a more serious question, “What were the names of the ladies that this guy Alain hit on mostly.’

  “They were pretty much a clique, Mrs. Woods, Mrs. Carter. they’re both dead, Mrs. Smith, she’s alive but her husband bought it, and Mrs. Summerton. They were his students and he was always with one or the other.”

  “Mrs. Summerton what’s her story?” Jake asked laying back till now letting Murphy take the lead.

  “Sally Summerton was pretty much the leader of the group. Her husband died and she inherited big time. After Mr. Summerton’s death she joined this club and established herself as a player. She went for the pro but she was after a man more in her league, Norman Blaine the industrialist. He just lost his wife a couple of years ago, from natural causes” he added quickly. “When Mrs. Summerton first joined the club she had a big party for all her friends, it was quite a celebration and her friends embraced her, she was very popular. But after she became engaged to Mr. Blaine her gal pals consisted only of Caterina, Daffy and Priscilla, they are a tight knit clique, or were.”

  Tennis players started entering the pro shop and Vic started to excuse himself.

  “We have just one more request for now, Mrs. Sumatran’s, address and phone number.” Jake asked.

  It was quickly forthcoming as Vic was anxious for the interview to be over. Murphy took the name, Sally Summerton and her very plush address and showed it to Jake who nodded. Murphy then put the paper in his note book.

  “Let’s go Murphy, goodbye Vic, thank you for your cooperation. Back to the salt mines.” Jake had to laugh at Murphy’s chagrin.

  “Glad your back Chief, we have a suspicious death. It could be suicide or murder. The body is at the morgue. Not a pretty sight but by now the sea lice and barnacles, are probably cleaned away. Yeah, they found him on a sand bar in the Delaware River.” The sergeant stopped them at the door with the news.

  “Where is he?”

  “Like I said at the police morgue.”

  “Let’s go Murphy, no rest for the weary. You get out of picture duty again.”

  “Why do we have to investigate every suspicious death? We have a whole squad for all this scut work.” Murphy, just wanted to go home, he had a long day, and It was still going on.

  “Knock it off and get the car.” Jake pushed him toward the door.

  “Your right Chief. We are on alert, what with all that is going on, one Packard car coming up.”

  CHAPTER 16

  The morgue was cold, quiet and devoid of people. The stainless steel doors opened with a whoosh and an orderly pushed a sheet covered body into the barren room and stopped under the neon lights in the center. Dr. Smith entered with clothing in a clear plastic bag. “Chief glad you are able to get here, you too Murphy. I think what we have under this sheet is the murderer of Richard Smith, former district attorney of Philadelphia.”

  “Hold on, what brings you to that conclusion?” Jake wondered.

  “This note was in the inside jacket pocket of his suit. He even took the precaution of putting it in a plastic baggie to keep it from disintegrating in the water. The only thing that puzzles me is there are no finger prints of our victim on the plastic.”

  “Maybe he wore gloves.” Murphy suggested.

  “Were there any other fingerprints on the plastic that you could pull up?” Jake asked.

  “Yep there sure were, and I compared them with the prints we found in the church and in the maid’s house and we have a match for the church. Another interesting find was this piece of fabric the victim was clutching in his hand. We had to pry his fingers open to extract it.” Both men leaned forward to see the shirt fabric in the doctor’s fingers. “The thing is, the fabric pattern looks familiar, but I can’t place it.” Doc shook his head in frustration.

  “A death grip you say and you say right. Moving on for a minute, what did the so called suicide note have to divulge?”

  “Chief he admits to killing Smith, but also acknowledges it was supposed to be his wife that was the target, the DA was murdered by mistake.”

  “I bet it was a mistake. He killed the goose that laid the golden eggs. Who could the White Owl blackmail now that the husband was dead?” Jake put on his gloves and asked to hold the letter and read the words himself in case the coroner missed anything. “I have a strong suspicion that this note was written by someone else.” Jake pointed to the error that convinced him the man was murdered in retribution for exposing the flock to criminal investigation. “If you notice he states in the letter ‘he’ was guilty of this heinous crime instead of ‘I’ am guilty. An error made in haste and not corrected. Murder my friends, another victim of the White Owl. We have to solve this case the numbers are stacking up. More than likely he murdered Richard, the evidence points that way. Is Pricilla still in danger, my guess is yes.

  Doc don’t let the fabric scrap or the letter out of your sight. Stow them away where they will be secure, got that? We still may have a spy around on the White Owl’s payroll. We have to be heading back, I am available whenever. Let’s go Murphy.”

  “I am keeping everything related to this case including the officer’s uniforms and paraphernalia in a locked closet and I am the only one with a key. You can visit it anytime.”

  “No one even looked at the body, for God’s sake! They’ll be back.” He called the orderly to take the corpse back to refrigeration. “Unbelievable! Talk about haste making waste, Jake has a lot on his mind, let’s start dissecting t
he body. It sure would be nice to know name, rank, and serial number.”

  The newspapers were having a field day discussing the latest murder and the alleged fact the drowned victim killed their district attorney. At least Guiliani solved one crime, and saved the tax payers money to boot they said, giving him some credit.

  “Don’t these reporters have any shame.” Jake back at his desk reading the late newspaper, grumbled.

  “They gave you credit for solving one murder, it’s not all bad,” Annie said reading the news with him.

  Jake reached up and pulled her face close to his and kissed her hard on the mouth. She lost her balance and nearly landed in his lap. She straightened herself up, and he reached for her again.

  “Jake what are you doing, what if some one comes in, have you gone crazy?” She started to flounce out of the office, when Jake called her back with an invitation.

  “How about dinner tonight gorgeous? We deserve a night on the town and you seem to be out of sorts lately. To much extra work, baby sitting our star witness? I will get a detail to take over Priscilla. What do you say?”

  “I say yes, thanks for the compliment,” she said smoothing her skirt over her hips. There are some things I am confused about Jake and a few things I need to know from you. So dinner definitely. Where shall I meet you?”

  “I feel like Italian, how about Mama Leoni’s in West Philly, close to home?”

  “I will be there, 7 o’clock okay, that will give me time to head home and change.”

  “Great, see you there.” Jake felt better seeing Annie smile. He was looking forward to his date.

  Murphy walked in without knocking, Jake looked up and frowned. “Chief, look at the picture of this man the owl landed on, which appears to be some kind of ritual and here he is again, same man, being led away by a superior flock member, possibly the ring leader. The man the owl chose seems big and broad, massive really. Even though we did not examine the dead man, his body could be described the same way, don’t you think?”