FIRST STEP MURDER

by H. R. Whidden

“Oh yea I forgot, he’s a smart ass too,” John said.

  “Thank you Detective.”

  “I guess I don’t need to introduce myself again do I?”

  “No Mr. Bennett, this is my friend Carol Shepard, let’s go into the kitchen.”

  Faxon saw her put the phone in her front left jeans pocket and a Walther nine millimeter behind her back pulling her shirt over it.

  “We had another problem yesterday. Let’s just say it was disturbing. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “A beer if you have one.”

  Harper opened the fridge and handed him a bottle after she took the cap off with her hand, it was the brand he always drank, what a coincidence he thought.

  “Mrs. Lewis, I think you’re taking this serious by the way you handled me showing up and I know John and my friend James warned you, do you mind me asking what happened?”

  “Just call me Harper, I will but you have to be honest with me and promise to give me all the information you have, I’m not in the mood to be fucked with, understand?”

  “I understand, I’ll tell you everything I know, and you can call me Faxon.”

  “The night before last, a man wearing all black with a full face ski mask broke through the side door there,” Harper pointed to the repaired door, “my husband had gone to New York City for a business meeting and was going to stay the night in the city, and I thought come back the next day. The man had a cord wrapped around his hand, knotted, I found out later that’s the way a strangler uses a cord to kill someone. I was washing off my evening dishes when the masked man broke in, and I still had the steak knife in my hand when I ran upstairs. I waited and when the man in the mask stepped around the corner I was squatting down. I stabbed him in the upper leg severing the main artery and he bleed out. It was my husband. He had come home to kill me then was going to drive back to New York to complete the alibi. He had also tried to get me to sell the family property to the Marine Group. I can’t help but think he had been involved from the beginning.”

  “You said you thought he had been involved with someone at this Marine Group from the beginning? Was he a marine?”

  “He was, I don’t know that much about his service, I know he was only in for six years,” Harper said. “My father was a Seal, my husband’s father severed with my father, and Robert got him to sell twenty percent of the company. My dad would have never done it for anyone else.”

  “Your husband had a tattoo on his right shoulder, not so uncommon for marines. I was Special Forces I have a tattoo of the company I was in. A lot of Marines got the same tattoo if they were in the same company. I’ve seen other guys that were connected with this Marine Group and they all had the same tattoos. If your husband was connected then he had a tattoo of a bad dog with lots of teeth snarling. Above the snarling dog written in cursive was Semper-Fi, below that it would say Hoooo-Rah, and below the dog there’d be USMC.”

  “He had that exact tattoo. I just had the feeling when he kept trying to get me to take their offer. I just didn’t want to believe it. Tell me the rest?”

  “The Marine Group list it’s CEO as a Saudi national named Kasam Rashid Kolmani, he hires ex-Marines to be private security, but over there there’s no telling what they do. I think train radical Islamic solders. The group is associated with an arms company out of Tennessee, and they ship weapons overseas, all approved by government agencies. So they have connections and I’ll never believe it’s that Saudi pulling the strings. Detective Walker and myself took down a theft ring, the men were steeling semi-trucks and trailers and filling shipping containers with the stolen goods and loading them on a freighter at the inner docks, the ship named the Desert Sun, a Saudi registered freighter owned by the Marine Group.”

  “They buy properties and overpay for them, I believe it’s all laundered money from illegal enterprises, and I don’t think their afraid to commit murder to get what they want. So far we can’t prove anything or connect anyone to the people at the top.”

  “They’re not getting my property, they don’t know who they’re fucking with, I’ll kill ’em all if I have to,” Harper said.

  “Calm down,” said Carol. “Think this through, nothing is worth dying for.”

  “There’s more,” Faxon said. “Your parents, do you know if the man driving the car that hit them had a tattoo?”

  “O’ shit, no, please don’t tell me. Those sons of bitches, do you think they killed my parents? But the guy would have known he was going to die?”

  “Those three men in that warehouse knew they were going to die too. Whoever’s pulling the strings controls them. And you’re not safe here, next time they’ll send two, or three, or four, or however many they need to and I know you’re tough, but that don’t mean shit to them. They’ll kill Mrs. Shepard here, or anyone else that gets in their way.”

  Sam called from the intercom and Harper went to let him through the gate as she thought about what he had said. When Sam came in Carol met her husband at the door and hugged him then they kissed.

  “What’s going on now,” Sam asked?

  They went into the kitchen and Harper introduced Faxon.

  “Sam I want you and Carol to go home, she’ll explain everything,” Harper said.

  “You can’t stay here by yourself.”

  “I have certain skills, Mr. Shepard,” Faxon said. “That and knowledge of how these things work, you’re going to have to trust me. There is one thing for sure you and your wife need to stay out of this.”

  “He’s right Sam, go home I’ll call you tomorrow, everything will be alright.”

  After they left Harper went back into the kitchen, Faxon was getting another beer out of the fridge, and looking at an old container of Chinese food.

  “Do you think this is still good?”

  “Please help yourself. You drop a bomb like my parents may have been murdered. How are we going to find out?”

  “Easy enough the coroner’s report, they’re very detailed, if he had the same tattoo then it’ll be in the report.”

  “I know someone at the Littleton police station, and he’ll get the report for me.”

  “For us,” Faxon corrected.

  “So it’s too late today, I guess you plan on staying here?”

  “I’m your protector, at least for right now. I won’t start charging you until tomorrow a guy’s got to eat.”

  Faxon found a fork in the top drawer and took a bite of General Cho’s chicken from the small white box.

  “Do you carry a gun,” Harper asked?

  “Yea, a thirty eight revolver,” he said.

  Harper laughed, “Great, my protector carries a thirty eight revolver, now I feel a lot better, come on let me show you something.”

  Harper took him to the office and moved a wall panel and opened a large gun safe, there was two high powered rifles with scopes, two twelve gauge shotguns, two crossbows, and at least ten different hand guns.

  “Take your pick. I know you have skills but it’ll make me feel better if I know you’re armed to the teeth.”

  Faxon finished the Chinese food and Harper made a frozen pizza, and they both had a few more beers. Faxon told stories about his investigation business. He told Harper about James and some of his articles, he told her about Mr. Samuels and his supposed suicide, and his sons selling the property to the Marine Group. They talked about Detective Walker and his help not only with the case but with giving him leads for jobs. Faxon told her about living above the bar at Ned Devin’s and the owner loaning him cars to drive. He convinced her she’d be safe there.

  Harper talked about Jose’ and leaving him to take care of the horses and how much she was going to miss them and competing. She told Faxon about the incident at the Hampton Horse Show and Kate breaking her arm. She talked about picking up her Aunt Rachel at the airport too.

  They agreed Faxon would take first watch and he’d wake Harper halfway through the night, she finally went upstairs to bed. Faxon walked around the house checking
the doors and making sure all the outside lights were on. He looked at pictures around the house of Harper and her father at hunt camp, kneeling beside deer with large racks. Harper riding motorcycles, doing a wheelie, with her father right behind her, trophies and ribbons from horse events, pictures of her on a horse going over impossibly high fences. There were pictures of her in a gee with a black belt squaring off against opponents, a certificate signed by an oriental master listing knives, staph, and sword that she had perfected the use of. Awards from the shooting range, listing her as an expert, who was protecting who, he thought.

  Faxon was sitting in the living room watching an old movie when Harper came downstairs. She was barefoot, wearing her grey sweat pants and a t-shirt.

  “I thought you were going to wake me?”

  “Yea, I guess I just got carried away watching this old movie, John Wayne, they don’t make ’em like that anymore.”

  “Ya, sure, that’s why I set my alarm clock. There’s a bedroom upstairs, it’s got clean sheets, go get some sleep.”

  Faxon slipped his boots off and laid back on the couch, “I’m ok here.”

  Not five minutes went by before he was asleep. Harper got up out of the chair and covered him with a light blanket.

  In the morning Faxon woke, the smell of bacon and his stomach growled. He scratched his unshaven face and thought about how good that bacon was going to taste. He sat up and put on his boots, stood and stretched and checked his watch. 9:00 am he slept longer than he thought he would, Faxon thought Harper would be in a hurry to go to the police station and see the coroner’s report.

  “Well finally, good morning, I let you sleep because you did stay up to keep watch. Here,” Harper slid a plate across the bar in front of him with lots of bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese and two slices of whole wheat toast, “what do you want to drink, I’ve got milk, water, and coffee, or there might be a few beers left, you seem to like them, a lot.”

  “Coffee, please, this looks great, thanks.”

  “How do you like your coffee?”

  “Black,” he spoke around a mouthful of eggs and bacon, then picked up the coffee and took a drink, “mm, strong just the way I like it. I don’t suppose I could shave before we go to the police station that is if you have a spare razor?”

  “You can use some of Roberts stuff, I put everything of his in a box, it’s in one of the other bedrooms upstairs, you can take the time to take a shower too if you want.”

  “You don’t mind me using his stuff?”

  “The son of a bitch was going to kill me,” Harpers voice sounded angry, “I stabbed the mother fucker and killed him, I’m just sorry I couldn’t have caused the asshole more pain before he fucking died. Mind you using his shit, really?”

  “Ok, ok, ya know it’s so weird hearing a girl that looks like you talk like that, Detective Walker said he knew about your father’s reputation, said he was a real hard man, I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  “How fucking original, if I had an apple every time someone said that, I’d have a shitload of apples, if you’re done complementing me, then get ready.”

  “Ok, I’ll go shave, you go pack a bag, and another thing we’ll need to stop at your bank so you can make a cash withdrawal, no more using credit or debit cards, they can be traced, and no checks either. Leave your cell phone here too. We’ll get you a burner phone.”

  Faxon took a hot shower and shaved, combed his hair and went downstairs. Harper was in the kitchen, she had a duffle bag. It was the one she used when going to hunt camp. Another long bag contained her guns. She wore a pair of jeans they weren’t designer but rather plan. She had on a white t-shirt under a button up the front plain cotton blue shirt with a collar, and a regular pair of tennis shoes.

  Harper threw a brush and the elastic scrunches at Faxon. “Could you braid my hair for me?”

  “Huh, I don’t think I’ve ever done that before.”

  “Shit Faxon, you’re not a virgin are you? A girl’s never asked you to braid her hair? Crap Jose’ my stable manager can do it, come on, I need to tell him I’m gonna be gone for a while anyway and say goodbye to the horses.”

  Harper started to throw her stuff in the back of her truck. “No, no, you have to leave the truck too.”

  Faxon opened the trunk of the GTO and they drove down the driveway to the stables, she walked to the office, Faxon followed. Harper introduced him, then she told Jose’ the story. He braided her hair in a tight braid, and then they walked back into the stables. Harper went to each stall, every horse came up to her and nuzzled her neck craving her attention.

  “She’s a very special person Mr. Bennett, if you spend time with her you’ll find that out, the horses know. When she rides they’d do anything for her, that’s why she’s been so successful. I’m old, her parents are gone, and I have nothing to lose but her, if you let her get hurt, I’ll kill you.”

  Faxon looked at the shorter, older, Hispanic man and there was a tear on his cheek, he knew this man meant what he said, he loved her. Faxon shook his hand and walked to the car, Harper hugged Jose’ and kissed his cheek.

  “I’ll call you, take care of yourself, with me gone you shouldn’t have any problems. I’m going to call Kate and let her know it’s ok if she comes by and rides, maybe if Walter will go with her I’ll let her show some, depending on how long I’m gone. Take care of my babies, I love you.”

  Faxon spun the wheels in the gravel as the GTO took off toward the gates and then down the road toward the Littleton Police Department. Harper reached over into the back and took a Red Socks ball cap from her duffle bag, and put on a pair of sunglasses. Not the kind of big rimmed gaudy over stated women’s sun glasses, these were a simple pair of Ray-ban shades.

  Through the front doors they both walked to the front desk and a woman officer asked what she could do to help. The woman had seen her before but with the sun glasses, and ball cap she didn’t recognize her.

  “I’m here to see Lieutenant Jerry Matson.”

  “Do you have an appointment ma’am?” The officer looked in an appointment book on the desk.

  “No, but it’s really important, tell him Harper Lewis is here.”

  “Oh,” the officer looked up, “I didn’t recognize you Miss. Lewis, he’s in his office go on down the hall, I’ll let him know you’re on the way back.” The desk officer was already picking up the phone.

  “Harper, you doing ok,” Jerry asked? “Please sit down.”

  “I’m alright Jerry, this is Faxon Bennett.”

  The two men shook hands and then everyone sat down.

  “I’m glad you hired someone. What can I do for you Harper?”

  “Faxon’s a private detective, and he’s made a connection between Robert and the offshore group that tried to buy the family property in the Boston city limits.”

  “Lieutenant I’m investigating other murders that have a connection to the same group and to organized crime,” Faxon said. “Unfortunately all the men involved have been killed. There is one thing in common they all have the same tattoo.”

  “Jerry, Faxon believes this group was involved in the accident that killed my mom and dad. If the group had been trying to buy that property and my father had refused, well their death could have been intentional.”

  “Harper that would mean that the man driving the other car knew he was going to die in the accident, who would do something like that?”

  “A man that had nothing to lose,” Faxon said. “Maybe he was terminally ill, maybe in debt to someone that he felt compelled to clean the slate with.”

  “So what can I do,” Jerry asked as he looked at Harper.

  “There’s one thing they all have in common, even Robert, they all had the same tattoo on their right upper arm. We need to see the coroner’s report on the man that was driving the other car.”

  “No matter how bad the accident the coroner’s report would have described in detail the tattoo,” Faxon said. “We would like to rea
d it.”

  “Jerry I need to know if my parents were killed in an accident, or if they were murdered by the same group my husband obviously belong too. I need to know.”

  “Alright,” Jerry got up, “I’ll be right back it should be in the file, it hasn’t been that long so we should have it here.”

  “He likes you,” Faxon said after he left the room.

  “It’s not like that. He was one of the officers that were at the scene of the accident, he was the first one to come notify me.”

  “Is he single?”

  “I don’t know, I guess so.”

  “Ya, he likes you, its plain to see, he didn’t have a ring on, he’s single, and he likes you.”

  “Damn, you’re jealous.”

  Faxon didn’t have time to respond, Jerry walked back into the office. He handed the report to Harper and never looked at Faxon, Harper read down the report. Faxon moved his chair closer and flipped the first page.

  “It’ll be here,” he said, “I’ve seen these before, the body description is usually last, after all the chemical reports and contents of the stomach, and crap like that.”

  They read it practically at the same time. Jessie Walker, body showed signs of long time alcoholism, and chronic drug use, blood alcohol was four times the legal limit. Body showed signs of long term intravenous drug use. Tattoo on right shoulder, and then the description of the tattoo, it was the same.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Harper was quiet as they walked to the car and drove away. Faxon looked over at her, and she looked like someone about to explode.

  “You’ll have to tell me where the bank is,” he said.

  “A left, and a right, and the bank will be down on the right near the intersection.”

  “It’s not a sign of weakness to cry about the loss of your parents you know.” He saw a single tear roll down her cheek, her face looked red, she wiped it away.

  “My Father would have disagreed.”

  She struggled to say it without breaking down.

  They pulled into the bank parking lot and Faxon cut the car off, got out and walked around to the passenger’s side of the car, she still sat in the seat, the window was down. He opened the door and sat on the edge of the floor and reached up and put his hand on her leg.