Murder Mysteries #5

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  Angie never one to ignore a suggestion gave it some thought. Such as, how would it make the potential killer feel reading about that in the newspaper or hearing it on the news. It would make him a bit mad or really angry. What would be his reaction? Would he send another mail accelerating his schedule and if he did that, would he make a small mistake of sorts? What would it hurt sending such a message? The public would wonder, but probably ignore the blurb. What about the after effects. Would the public blame the US Marshall?

  "Stacy, let's run it by Connie and from what I've just computed in my brain I like the idea he might make a mistake," said Angie.

  Stacy called Connie. She answered promptly as usual. "I got your mail Stacy. I've not a lot to offer at this point. It's a wait and see kind of thing."

  "I thought of something Connie and want to run it by you. Angie and I talked about it and can't see what harm it could do. It might just force the perp into making a mistake." Stacy related what she wanted or thought they could do with a news blurb to the 'Equalizer'.

  "Let me get back to after I run that by some oversized hat sizes here in my building."

  Stacy had it on speakerphone so all could hear. Stacy walked to the window seeing a slight drizzle of white stuff falling. That will make the kids happy, she thought. With her hands behind her back, she thought about her father and Fran down in Arizona letting the warm sun fight off the nasty arthritis of so many old people. I wonder if they are really happy down there. What do old people do all day long living in the dessert? Stacy stood up tall thinking that in reality her father probably does not like it down there at all. He would probably be happier at home making wood products. Her thoughts were broken when Emma said Rory was on the phone.

  Stacy took the call saying, "Well Tall Man, what do you think now?"

  "I've not a clue Super. Tell me to go interview a suspect and I'm your man. But to crawl inside a psychopath's head is out of my league. I have a hard enough time matching my socks in the mornings."

  "I've an idea and sent that idea to Connie for her take. Let me tell you what I've in mind. She told him the story and then he said:

  "What can it hurt. Stir him up and hope he makes a mistake. Like you I don't like waiting. Let's force the issue and maybe we can take him out of business before the New Year."

  "I'll let you know. Merry Christmas Rory."

  -9-

  That night on the six o'clock news the new anchor read the following: "We've been asked by the law enforcement authorities to read a message to an anonymous recipient. Here's the contents of the message:

  "Dear Equalizer. We usually don't deal with people who blow bags of hot air. However, either put up or shut up. Why wait. You've blown your horn twice now. I've put a block on my site. Go tout your tripe elsewhere."

  "We at the station here are only presenting what was asked of us for public viewing. None of here at the station has any idea what this involves. Now as we move closer to Christmas, in other news………………………."

  "That should ring his chimes, as my father would say," said Stacy to her staff watching the news. Let's go have dinner at our favorite Chinese place."

  ///

  Sitting in his second hand rocking chair, which leaned a little to the left, Chris McGoogle sat watching the news with a plastic tray in his lap that contained his dinner. His stoic expression never changed on the outside, but in his gut it felt like a volcano about to erupt. In one hand he held his grilled ham and cheese sandwich and a fork in the other for his string beans. He thought out loud, "She right and why wait. I'll do it tomorrow. He's always at the restaurant every day but Sunday. Let's get this show on the road. Now that they've pissed me off, I'll do two in three days just to rattle their cages. The other one might be a little more difficult. If she stays on schedule, then I'm fine, but if she takes a day or two of vacation, then I'll just wait."

  Chris ate his tasteless sandwich and beans. Why would any man put up with a worthless cook like she is, he wondered. Chris squirmed in his chair trying to control his anger against that US Marshall Foreham. She might block his mail, but that doesn't mean the office e-mail address. I might just cook up a little surprise for her in the form of a Christmas present. He stood up and took his tray to the kitchen. The wife and kids were at a neighbor helping to decorate a tree. He paced the floor too upset to sit and watch TV.

  He walked back to the kitchen, took up pen and paper leaving a note saying he had work at the office to do. Do not wait up, as if she ever would. Instead of the insurance office, he drove to his plumbing warehouse. It was not unusual for him to spend the night there. He had an air mattress and electric heater for the floor of his van. After arriving he popped two sleeping pills and crashed out in a fetal position dreaming of his childhood.

  The next morning Chris saw about an inch of snow on the ground. However, it looked like it would melt off by noon. He drove to a restaurant for breakfast. He bought a paper and sat down in a booth. The headlines had the story and the text of the blurb to the Equalizer. A slow burn began in his stomach and a minute later his cheeks turned red. The message screamed at him that he was a piece of shit. "Sir –sir – do you want some coffee," came a voice from far away.

  He looked up with glassy eyes and nodded yes. She filled his cup and then left a menu. Chris returned to the story underneath the message to him.

  "We received this public message last night and by request we published it. This newspaper has no idea who the message is intended for or why. Our staff is contacting the agency that sent the message for further clarification. We'll keep the public informed as time goes by."

  Chris read the message over and over again. He came to the conclusion that they did not believe him. As he thought about it the waitress came back and finally to get his attention, gently poked him on the shoulder. Chris tried to smile and ordered ham and eggs.

  Back at the warehouse he changed clothes into his plumbing overalls. He never noticed the snow was almost gone. Retrieving his rifle he sat on a campstool stripping it down as he had done many times before. An hour later he had put it back together making sure he left no greasy fingerprints on his sleek Winchester rifle. It was now ready for use. He put three shells in the mag as he really only needed one, but just in case. He looked at the battery power clock. It was just about 11 am. At noon he would be on site parked and ready for the activity coming around 1 pm.

  He set an alarm and took a nap. Upon waking he drove out the automatic door and down to the very restaurant he had eaten breakfast. This was Sheriff Clifford Demmit's favorite place to eat lunch. He ate lunch there every day he was in his office. He also had various friends eat with him. Lately the lunch crowd consisted of his right hand deputy and his long time secretary.

  Chris in his van had his usual parking place empty. Rarely did anyone park alongside that particular street. The street where he parked divided the church from the restaurant parking lot. Also along the streets in that area was old elm trees, but now their leaves had been picked up by the street sweeper's long time ago. Chris parked just so his van sliding door opened up with a clear view of the restaurant entrance and just behind a large tree trunk.

  Chris had been here many times before planning this hit. The sheriff would arrive just shortly before noon and come back out about 1 pm. He would stop and talk with his guests just outside the restaurant door, pick his teeth with a toothpick and then walk slowly to his car. A quick glance told Chris that the sheriff would be here in about five minutes.

  While he waited, just in case a passerby would take a look, Chris had some pipe fittings laid out along with his tool bag. Standing next to the door was his Winchester ready to go. Chris looked up and saw his mark park and walks into the restaurant for his last meal in this lifetime.

  He waited patiently thinking he would show that smart bitch Marshall he was no slouch. This would make the news outstanding. He smiled liking the idea he was or would be the most popular man in the state by this very afternoon. He looked
again at the clock. It flashed back 12:45. It was close to show time.

  Chris peeked out and saw nobody coming along or as a matter of fact, all the streets were clear of anybody walking around. His heart was beginning to increase in beats as the time drew near. He blinked several times to clear his vision. A few deep breaths were taken. He looked and there was the sheriff coming out now. Like most days, the sheriff stopped to talk and pick his teeth. Chris shouldered his rifle, aimed at the center of his chest and gently squeezed the trigger. He saw the sheriff go down and he quickly placed his rife back in its proper place, stashed his tools, sat in the driver's seat and drove off slowly.

  He never remembered breathing or driving back to his warehouse. His warehouse had a bathroom with a shower. Chris showered and behind his building, a burn barrel took care of his overalls. He left the shell casing in the rifle for the time being. He locked up and drove to his insurance office in Springfield elated he had accomplished step one in his staircase that had no ending.

  -10-

  The first call went to the city police department. The second call went to the US Marshall's office. The third call went to Connie Wilson at the Justice Department in DC. Last night Stacy had been told by Connie that she had called Chief of Police Ronald Geppart alerting him to the events about to happen. She apologized for not contacting him earlier, but the first e-mail could have been a crackpot. However, with the second mail and the notice given to the public via TV and newspaper, it was time to make the call.

  Chief Geppart said to Stacy after receiving the call an officer of the law was down. "Stacy it appears Sheriff Demmit was assassinated about 1 pm at the entrance of Dolby's Restaurant. I'll meet you there."

  Stacy stood up shaking her head. "Dan," called out Stacy while she rang up Ben. "get Emma and bring the car around to the front please. Our Equalizer has struck at Dolby's west of town. "Hey Ben, bring you glasses and meet us at Dolby's west of here. He's killed his first victim. Initial account says the victim is Sheriff Demmit."

  Stacy changed into her walking shoes, put on her Gore-Tex coat, picked up her murder black bag that always sat near her door and walked out with a nod to Sharon. Inside the vehicle, no words were spoken, as any speculation would be just that: speculation. Stacy realized she and others were in up against a playing field that was not level. Be that as it may, she vowed to do her best against this mentally deranged person.

  As they approached the restaurant, police and other emergency vehicles with lights flashing gave off a prelude to what happened. Dan found a place to park, ironically near the church where the killer made his debut into the arena of being named a murderer. Stacy noticed the entire parking lot had been taped off preventing any customers of the restaurant from leaving. They had best hurry with the CSI team before the customers get antsy from being trapped in the restaurant.

  They used the sidewalk to the entrance to the restaurant. With necklaces of picture ID hanging around their necks, the police let them through to where Chief Geppart stood with two homicide detectives. A dark wool blanket covered the body. Stacy could see a small trickle of blood had crept out from under the blanket. Stacy felt a nudge at her shoulder and a familiar voice said, "The games afoot Super," whispered Cathy Wilson. "Marsha will be here shortly. I saw Ben park and soon the state CSI team will be here. I'll stand by with you."

  Stacy moved up to speak with Chief Geppart. "We live in an age of violence Stacy. If we don't like it, kill it. The old adage to walk away is deleted from our present day vocabulary. From the witnesses with the sheriff state they stopped to say good-bye and the sheriff was knocked backwards. We think he died instantly as the bullet hit him where the heart resides behind the rib cage. I didn't know him Stacy and only met him one time. I understand he was well liked in the community and by his staff. A senseless case of murder that happens so often these days. His second in command is standing off to the side leaning against the building. The only words he spoke was, 'I have to tell his wife and family. Where will I find the courage to do that Chief?' I asked him if he wanted some company. He shook his head no. Well, Marshall, from what your boss told me, this killer has a game he wants to play with you. I'll help where I can Stacy. Meanwhile, I officially hand this case over to you. I'd like to add a good luck and a Merry Christmas, but doesn't seem appropriate."

  Marsha walked up at the same time as the CSI team went to work. Ben had already started his own investigation outside the crime tape. He was not far away from where Dan had parked their vehicle. As a matter of fact, he was very near where Chris had parked his plumbing van. Unfortunately the snow had melted where once tire tread was visible, nothing but a wet street was left staring up at him. If it had been four hours earlier, clear tire tread would have revealed a right front tire with a nail head.

  While waiting, a cubical was set up around the body preventing snoopy eyes from seeing a dead body lying on the cold concrete. Dan was overseeing the operation with the help of some city police officers. It was not long before the photographer went to work and then it was time for Marsha to do her job. Marsha worked quickly and soon the body was placed in a bag and transported to the morgue. The crowds of people were sent on their way. After the CSI had combed the parking lot, the patrons inside the restaurant were released.

  The only witnesses were the two guests of the sheriff for lunch. One was his second in command; Roy Roberts and the other one a business executive Oliver Wincup. Oliver was inside the restaurant in a state of shock and Roy Roberts was still standing against the building. Stacy went up to Roy and said, "Excuse me Mr. Roberts, I'm Marshall Foreham and I'd like to receive your statement please. I'm terribly sorry about the loss of your friend."

  He slowly turned towards her looking through eyes not being able to focus well. Stacy took a chance and reached out to touch his arm. Roy seemed to react favorably and looked down at a young woman with eyes of sympathy. He said, "I'm sorry, what was your name again?" Stacy repeated her statement and then he said, "Yes, let's go inside where our friend Oliver is. We can think more clearly inside than out here. I can still see Cliff's body flying backwards. I doubt if that picture will go away any time soon."

  Stacy with Dan and Emma following went into the restaurant. They found Oliver with a law officer at a remote table off to the side of the main seating area. The officer rose when he observed the main witness coming along with some plain-clothes detectives. After sitting down, Stacy asked, "Mr. Roberts, walk us through from the time you stepped outside until you saw Sheriff Demmit fall to the ground. Did you see or hear anything unusual?"

  "We walked out the door together. Cliff stopped to say goodbye and go back to his office. Cliff shook the hand of Oliver and right after that, a whump sound with Cliff driven backwards. I'm a deer hunter Marshall so I know the sound of bullet hitting flesh. I never heard a rifle or gunshot sound at all. Apparently the assassin used a sound suppressor. When I looked up to see if anyone was running or driving away in a hurry, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. I used my cell to call the office to report we had an officer down. There was not a doubt in my mind he was dead."

  Stacy thought Roy looked like a whipped puppy dog. It was clear that the two were close friends. "How long have the two of you worked together Mr. Roberts?"

  "Marshall, call me Roy please. Let's see now. It would be more than twenty-five years we've worked together. In all my years he's been the best sheriff this county has ever had. Why in God's name would someone want to kill him? It makes no sense. The political side was never anything to be afraid of. He always won with 90% of the votes over a challenger. I think Marshall that whoever murdered him did it for reasons we don't understand."

  Stacy turned her attention to Oliver and asked him what he saw and heard just before and after the sheriff fell to the ground. "I echo what Roy said Marshall. I remember now the 'whump' sound, I've no experience such as hunting to compare with like Roy. I was standing there having just shook hands when all of sudden he flies backwards. I look down seeing a
dark spot in his chest. I didn't think assassination, but was confused looking at Cliff who twitched a few times and then lie still. His eyes looked straight up. I realized, after seeing a little blood trickle down his shirt, he'd been shot. This is an unbelievable nightmare that will haunt me for a long time."

  Stacy left her card and Dan took both witnesses cards with them to their office. Outside Ben was still prowling around looking for anything that might be evidence. Stacy caught up with him and said, "Find anything interesting Ben?"

  "Not really. From what I can tell, the shooter was in his vehicle parked on the side of the street next to the parking lot. Come here and I'll show you." They walked down the street to the corner, turned right to where their SUV was parked just down the street. Ben continued, "Right here is the perfect place for a shooter to view the entrance to the restaurant. He probably used a van with a sliding door. I looked for tire tracks, but nothing of use did I see we could make out for evidence."

  "Let's put a team of door shakers around this neighborhood and ask if anyone has seen a van parked near this side of the street across from the church. The church itself looks very quiet. Dan can help you Ben. I'll ask Connie for some help. I think we're going to need some of our staff working on this. I'll see where Rory is on hiring a deputy. Maybe for the time being, we can do this ourselves. Emma and I can start from one end and you guys can divide up the rest of the area. Let's go now as it's fresh in people's minds."

  ///

  The wife of Sheriff Clifford Demmit, Margot at a few minutes before her husband was murdered, was talking on the phone to her daughter Janice. They were discussing the holidays when at precisely the same time as the assassin's bullet struck her husband resulting in instant death, Margot screamed, "Oh my God no!" She was sitting at the kitchen table and when they found her, she was lying on the floor dead.