by Debra Smith
Chase and I met at the entrance gate. She and I drove across the bridge to the garage. While she started loading the motorcycle, I walked into the house with Matti following behind. I walked up the steps to what appeared to be the master bedroom. After I put on my gloves, I started to look around the room. A king size four poster bed, nightstands each side, dressers, mirrors, two over stuff chairs and a love seat next to the two French doors going to the balcony.
The two walk in closets were opened and cleaned out. I gave the French doors a bump to open them. The balcony over looked the backyard and the garage could be seen from it. The tables and chair with a glider were on the balcony. Clair sat on the glider watching her son, Byron play in the yard with his friends. I saw the picture of Clair sitting on the glider from the photos Grant gave me. It is how I knew it was Heath and Clair’s room. I returned to the room. I started checking all the drawers, under the mattress, pillow cases to behind the headboard. Finally I pulled all the drawers out, to check underneath. The last drawer on the small dresser I found an envelope and a key tape to it. When Chase walked into the room, she said,” I see you found something.” Opening the envelope, I replied,” I hope it is a good clue.” I carefully removed the letter. The paper was crisp and yellow. There was no name on the outside of the envelope. I gently unfolded the letter.
The hand written letter stated:
My Dearest Love,
If you’re reading this letter my life had come to an end and I hope to see in heaven. Take this key; unlock the box hidden in the attic. Take the information to FBI Agent Rafael Turi, he’ll help you to get to freedom. Until we meet, live for me.
Love Your,
Sweetheart
I replaced the letter into the envelope.
Looking at the key, I said,” We are going to the attic to search for a box this key will unlock. Then I’ll call my Uncle Rafael and ask him questions.” Chase quizzically asked,” Do you have an idea where the attic is in this place?” Walking down the hall, I answered,” It shouldn’t be too hard to find.” Upon opening the fourth door, we saw stairs spiraling upwards. We walked up the steps to the spacious attic that resembled a living quarters. A couch faced the large round window with an end table next to it. Chase asked,” Do you think someone lived up here?” I answered,” It appears that way.” We started searching in bookcases, cupboards, under cushions on the sofa and two overstuffed chairs. We looked underneath the furniture to check the floor for a secret compartment. Finding nothing in the closet, either, I stood there uncertain where to look next. I stood there staring at a four by eight wall Muriel of the mountains named Colorado Rockies. The artist did an exceptional job. Suddenly it occurred to me. I walked up to the Muriel. I started pressing on it. To our surprise the wall slid open, revealinga small walk in pantry. I removed the large metal box sitting on the middle shelve, surrounded by books. Chase softly said,” I never seen a place with so many secret hide-a-ways.” I carried the box to the table. I removed the key from the envelope. I was filled with uncertainty. The key easily unlocked the box. I removed the black and white photos of men in suits and women in gowns. The handwriting was the same as the love letter.
The Cirrillo Serjio family was created by business people who felt they were picked on for being small. They consist of stores, factories, bakeries, car dealerships, barber shops, beauty salons, restaurants, bars, dry cleaners, and construction.
Cirrillo Serjio an average height, dark hair and eyes started a deli and bakery shop with his wife, Rosa lea with their two sons, Cirrillo Jr., Dante, and their daughter, Leia. Cirrillo started the group with other small business owners, women included. Those who were being threaten by a larger business to pay percentage to be unharmed or be robbed. The police, judge, and district attorney were bought by other family known as Ruggiero. Cirrillo went to all the businesses including Heath Sander to form the unity to protect themselves from Ruggiero’s family of thugs. Everyone had agreed to it. They decided to put Cirrilo in charge with Heath Sander as second in command. Trace was put in charge of protection. Trace had a tall athletic build with dark hair and eyes. He used any means necessary to protect the family from harm. He had four assistants who were similar build with dark hair, Patch, Renegade, Rowdy, and Fizzle, fizzy for short. Of the five, Trace was the deadliest one of all.
Death always silently followed him for he terminated those who betrayed the family.
All the businesses connected to the Serjio family flourished. They borrowed from each other with no interest repayment. The family council grew with two more members; Carlie, beauty salon owner and Kyle, dry cleaning owner. When an outsider needed assistance be it a battered housewife, to another business owner too small to fight for their self knew they could go to the Serjio‘s for help.
One battered housewife, Eve Baker, thin build, brunette, married, to a police officer, father-n-law, and police commissioner knew the law wouldn’t touch her husband. Ethan would come in every night after work hitting her. The supper on the table cold, kids not in bed, house not clean enough, needing clothes for herself, to no beer in the refrigerator would set him off. Nothing she ever did would keep him from hitting her. Some days were worse than other days. He had drugged her across the room by her hair; hit her with the butt of his pistol, to using a baseball bat. When he went to work, she got up from lying in a pool of blood.
She made herself presentable for their son and daughter, Buck and Audrey. The kids were to frighten to say anything. They quietly got ready for school. Daddy was to mean to mommy, but didn’t know what to do for Daddy told them he kill mommy if they told anyone. Once they were on the school bus, she went to Serjio’s Deli. Rosa Lea saw Eve walking into the door.
Rosa Lea’s small build immediately went to Eve, putting her arms around her as she said,” Don’t’ worry, Eve, will take care of it.” Rosa Lea led Eve to the employee lunch room. She removed the hair net from her black hair in a bun. Cirrilo walked in carrying a cup of coffee. He sat it in front of Eve. He gave her the cup of coffee. Rosa Lea started tending to her cuts from the first aid kit in the lunch room. He softly said,” I can make your problems go away. Please, let me help you and your children.” Every movement, every breath sent pain thorough out her body. The beatings were getting worse every day. She swallowed the coffee.
She shakily said,” Okay, I accept your help. Please, if you can, stop beatings. I can’t take it anymore.” Taking her hand he gently said,” It will be done. Think of a place where you would like to go and we’ll send you and your children there. Do you have a photo of your husband I can have?” Without saying a word or asking why, she reached into her purse. She handed him a photo of her and Ethan by the tree in the park before they were married. Cirillo smiled at her as he said,” Don’t worry, you will be safe here with my Rosa lea. Your children will join you after school. I’ll be gone for a few minutes to take care of business.
Then I’ll be returning to help you with your new life.” He walked out of the lunch to his office. He made a quick telephone call to Trace to inform him about a special delivery.
They met at a warehouse outside of town. Being the warehouse was secluded, making it difficult to find in the woods, made it perfect for their meetings. All of them sat at the table with Cirrilo at the head. After he finished telling them about what Ethan Ron did to his wife, Eve, in a harsh tone, Trace said,” He’ll be treated the same way. We’ll do it tonight.” Cirrilo agreed to it. While they prepared, Cirrilo returned to the deli reassuring Eve everything was going to be all right.
Once the ware house was ready, they split up to monitor Ethan’s activities. They used pay phones to keep tabs of each other. They watched Ethan walk into the bar with his two buddies. Fizzy followed them in. Fizzy eased in beside Ethan. Preoccupied by his other buddy wanting to shoot pool, Fizzy quickly slipped a drug into Ethan’s beer. Tasteless and odorless Ethan had no idea his drink was tampered. Fizzy finished his beer. Next he walked outside to wait with Rowdy for Ethan to come out. By the sec
ond beer, Ethan started feeling queasy. He told his buddies he need some air and be back in a few minutes. Ethan stepped into the alley, placed his hand on the building to steady himself. Patch slowly drove the van to him.
The drug had its full effect on Ethan, preventing him to fight back or move. He slipped into unconscious.
The next thing Ethan knew he awoke on a cot. His head still hurting from last time, looked up at Patch who gruffly said,” Trace, he’s awake.” Patch and Renegade pulled Ethan off the cot. Staggering, they brought him before Trace sitting in an overstuff chair. Dropping to his knees, Ethan ask,” Who are you? What do you want? Do you know I am a police officer and my father is the police commissioner?” Trace twirled the wooden baseball bat. The anger was instant. He didn’t like abusers. To him they were bullies, who picked on the weak, because they were unable to fight back. Coldly Trace answered,” You battered your wife. You use the badge to do it. You are guilty of all accounts.” Trace stood up, took a very hard swing across Ethan’s rib cage area. Ethan screamed in pain with each crashing blow from the bat, their kicks and their fists in his face. Ethan could fill life slowly draining from his body. He tasted his own blood from his nose and mouth. Finally the beating stopped.
Trace harshly said,” Now you know how it feels to taste your own blood and how your wife felt every time you beat her.” Ethan laid there helpless, unable to speak or move without sending severe pain thorough out his body. Fizzy drove Ethan’s car to the warehouse while he slept the drug off.
Rowdy and Renegade roughly picked Ethan up from the floor. In Ethan’s mind he hoped they would let him go for he desperately wanted a second chance to make it right with his wife and children. The queasy feeling in his stomach told him his life was about to end. They sat him down at the table. Trace gave him a tablet and pen. Ethan picked the pen up and started writing an apologetic letter and professing his never ending love. The last lines in the letter included please forgive me for all the hurt I caused you, signed it and then slid the tablet to Trace. Rowdy and Renegade took Ethan to his car. Trace placed the letter in an envelope to be given to Eve. Rowdy put Ethan in the driver’s seat. Ethan started the car, uncertain he would be able to drive. He felt the driver door shut on his badly beaten body.
He put the car in drive. Blood was still flowing down the side of his face, stinging his eyes. He tried hard to stay on the road. Carefully going around the twisted turns. If only he could get to a house or closer to town, he would be okay. He fought to stay awake. He kept slipping in, out of conscious. The road seemed to be endless. Finally unable to stay awake, his head fell on the steering wheel, causing the car to careen out of control down the embankment. Life as he knew had come to an end. The car came to a crashing end among the trees and rocks. He was pinned in the car.
By the accident one would think his injuries were from the car bouncing from the trees and rocks. Two days later, the wreck was found by a passing car. By now his wife and children were across the country in other state and town with new identity.
I looked at the papers. There were no indications of their location. I didn’t see a name of who wrote this log. The newspaper clipping of the accident were among the papers. There were no names on the back of the photographs, either. I started looking at the other books in the pantry. I leafed through each book. I noticed there were names of judges, attorneys, police officers, doctors, and medical examiners. I had a hunch the donations were another word for bribe. Chase and I carried the books to the truck. I would return later in the day to search other rooms of the mansion to see what other secrets it was keeping. Chase had the bike loaded and ready to go. We agreed to meet here in this evening.
I started the drive to 109 Pine Street. I had more questions. I hope somehow the retired sheriff would be able to connect the pieces. For reasonsI couldn’t understand the clues were all over the place. I know now Sander was into illegal activity. The vigilantly justice went unpunished. I wondered if anyone knew the names of the ones who protected the family. I started hoping they were still alive to pay for wrong they had done.
CHAPTER IV
I finally arrived at 109 Pine Street. After I shut off the truck, Matti and I knocked on the door. Randal greeted us warmly. He said,” Welcome, Detective Colter. I have everything on the dining room table.” I followed him to the dining room. I saw crime scene photos of the past. The courthouse drew my attention. I looked at the photos one by one. The single gun shots to the head of the judge, prosecuting attorney, defense, sheriff deputies, the accused and the court stenographer. Their bodies slumped over from where they sat with the exception of the sheriff deputies who laid on the floor. I asked,” What are their names and where there any witnesses who saw something?” Randal answered as he pointed to their faces,” The name of the Judge is John Blackwall, husband, father and loved to fish. I caught many trout with him and our wives shared recipes. Court stenographer; Melinda Morrison, wife and mother of twin boys. Assistant district attorney Adam Harlin first trial solo, husband, and father. Sheriff Deputies, Maltic and Bayler, husbands and fathers. Defense attorney Dakota Janice first trial, too and information on him was very little. Janice came from another town that no knew and he stayed to himself. The apartment he was living at was cleaned out before the shooting. We are uncertain as to where he was going. All were good to their families and good friends to all who knew them. The defendant is a local PI named Jerry Lyle, hired by Sander’s wife Clair for she suspected her husband of having Mafia ties. But never found the evidence at his office or residents prior to his trial. Lyle insisted he had names and proof of bribery. Lyle was arrested for trespassing and breaking and entering Sander’s office. It was during questioning he told us about Clair and her husband’s Mafia ties. As I have said we didn’t find anything at either place when we searched it. Lyle’s Secretary Grace Pike, a young woman found dead in her apartment the next day by her best friend, Mandy Brown who worked at a dress shop a block from Pike’s apartment. Her murder went unsolved, too. I know everything is connected to one person who is yet to be found. Grace was to get married that weekend. I had to tell her husband to be, Macon Murray. He left town shortly after the funeral. Both parents passed away without closure to their daughter’s murder. All the families should have closure. I am hoping you can somehow solve this mystery surrounding the victim. Clair disappeared from the hospital the night her husband brought her in for a car accident on Alder berry Road. The son vanished the same night. The motorcycle was found along the bank of the river. The body was not found. The rain storm that night might have a part in the disappearance.” I sat down at the table.
I started reading the notations of Detective Charles Bass and Detective Lynn Cannon. I looked at the photos of Grace Pike’s crime scene, too.
May 23, 1950, arrived at 345 Dogwood Lane apartment 2B first floor. The forensic team and medical examiner Doctor Judy Weaver arrived within a few minutes. The victim, a female in her twenties was found by her friend Mandy Brown in her bedroom. She laid on top of the covers wearing a white satin night gown. A single white rose laid next to her. There were no marks on her. Detective Bass ran his fingers thorough is blonde hair as his blue eyes began looking around the bedroom. Doctor Weaver carefully looked at the body. Detective Cannon eased her medium build by the window. Her dark hair and eyes scanned the windowsill for forced entry marks. She saw on the dresser a purse. Carefully she looked inside. The contents were mke-up, brush, comb, mirror and a wallet. She opened the wallet, seeing driver’s license, a few ones and change. Detective Cannon spoke in a strong southern accent,” Her purse wasn’t touched. The driver’s license identifies the victim as Grace Pike and emergency contact is Macon Murray 897 West Drive.” Doctor Weaver replied,” It doesn’t look like she was raped, strangled, and no signs of struggle. I’ll know more when I get her at the office.” There was no medicine in the apartment. The forensic team and Doctor Weaver were perplexed for there were no bottles and needles in the trash, medicine cabinet and on end tables for
the entire apartment were neat and clean.
Pausing for a moment Detective Bass thought he heard jazz music softly playing in the living room. He walked out to the living room. The radio on low volume was on a stand next to the sofa. He made a notation of it. Detective Cannon started asking the friend questions to the neighbors about Grace Pike’s life. Detective Bass saw freshly lit candles on the dining room table. Next he walked into the kitchen. Everything was neatly put away, spotless. He walked over to her desk. There was no suicide note. A date book, mail, note pad, and, telephone was on the desk. As he was going through the mail, Detective Cannon sat down into the desk chair. She stated looking at the date book,” After talking to her friends and neighbors, the only thing were consistent was a man seen leaving the apartment late last night. No one could give a good description. They stated he was tall with an average build, but don’t know anything beyond that;” stopping to read a notation in the date book, she continued to say,” Grace was to get married this weekend to Macon.” Detective Bass replied,” We’ll go see Macon after we finish here.” I looked at the forensics report and saw the notations of only fingerprints found at the scene were the victims. The windows and doors had no forced entry marks.
The ruling was homicide under suspicious circumstances for there was evidence to prove a poison was used to cause the death but unable to identify the poison. I returned to reading their notations about the case.
Detective Bass, Detective Cannon and Sheriff Augustine went to see Macon Murray. He had walked into his house when a knock came from his living room door. Just getting off work, he was still in his mechanics uniform. The two detectives showed their badges, and then ask to speak to him inside. He motion for them to come in. When Detective Cannon softly said,” We have some news you may want to sit down before you hear it.” Uncertain about the news, he sat down on the sofa fearing the worse. The two detectives sat in the two chairs across from him. Detective Cannon gently said,” We are sorry to inform you Grace Pike was found passed away on her bed this morning by her best friend. We have few questions, but if you don’t feel up to it we can come back later.” He started shaking, and then the tears came like falling rain. His heart shattered in a million pieces. Detective Bass tried to comfort him. In a quivering voice, Macon asked,” Who would hurt my beloved Grace? She was kind, loving and friendly to anyone she met. She had no enemies.” He kept repeating she can’t be gone to we are going to spend forever together. Macon couldn’t imagine life without Grace. They were going to get married on Sunday. Now someone had stolen her away. The memories of the times being together played in his mind. Her smile, laughter, voice, soft and gentle, little things she did, like making his favorite pie, surprising him with lunch to leaving notes in his lunch bucket saying love you with all my heart. Suddenly he collapsed, not breathing. Detective Bass telephoned for an ambulance. They took turns doing CPR until the ambulance came.