Mind Switch

by Lorne L. Bentley

  First on the list was Mr. Schultz himself. “Okay,” Fred said, “Could Schultz have a motive?”

  Jim said, “You know a lot more than I do about him, but what would be his purpose? If he didn’t like a division head he could simply fire him. He is the 800 pound gorilla in the company.”

  “Yes, I agree,” said Fred. “Next, how about Mrs. Schultz? She has been much more involved in the business than I ever realized. She seems to be quite intent on promoting females to replace the male division heads that have been killed.”

  “Fred, why couldn’t she simply tell her husband to fire male division heads?”

  “Maybe it’s because Mr. Schultz wouldn’t comply with her wishes. Mr. Schultz hired all but one of the division heads and he certainly had something at stake in keeping them. Besides that, whoever killed Flynn was most likely wearing Chanel Number Five; and Mrs. Schultz also wears that same brand of perfume. I have to include her as a possible suspect, although I would be the first to agree that the probability is highly remote.”

  Fred started to move to the next suspect and was interrupted by the sudden appearance of the AU receptionist, Donna Lang. “Lieutenant, I have something to tell you. I’m afraid my life is in great danger!”

  Chapter 65

  Fred ushered Donna into the conference room. He knew she had seen the names on his office blackboard, and it would not take an Einstein to deduce what their presence meant.

  “Okay, Donna, what is this all about?”

  “I’m not sure if I can explain it, but in the past month I’ve been feeling as if someone or something is invading my mind. I know that sounds crazy, but that’s exactly how I feel. Worse yet, I seem to have no control over what happens to me.”

  Recalling Schultz’s description of a mental invader, Fred thought that Donna’s story sounded very familiar.

  “Please go on, Donna!”

  “Well, can you do something? Can you lock this person up?”

  “Donna, do you know who it is?”

  “I think so, but I’m not entirely sure.

  “About a week ago I went into Mr. Schultz’s office to put away some files as he told me to do. He keeps that office locked at all times, the only people authorized to have a key are the division heads and me. Well, anyway, when I unlocked the door to his office I heard a sound. As you know, there are no windows in the office; and since I hadn’t yet turned the lights on, I couldn’t see anything. As I reached to turn the light on, someone pushed me, and I fell down on the floor. Then I heard the door slam shut. I got up immediately and looked down the hall. All I saw was a woman wearing black slacks and a brown blouse. Now, Lieutenant, I don’t know if you know anything about fashion; but those colors just aren’t fashionable at all. In fact, if you look at the color wheel, they really don’t fit together.”

  Fred could hardly hold back his laughter. Here was a woman desperately afraid for her life and she was taking precious time out to give him a fashion lesson.

  “Donna, please,” he urged, “go on with your story.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. At any rate I was very mad. Whoever was in that room was not allowed to be there, I am sure, as Mr. Schultz’s exact rules were that only certain people are allowed in the room. He is very definite about that rule.”

  “Yes, please go on.”

  “Well I ran after her and she went into the Reading Division. And by the way, I think they should change their name to something else; I never even saw a book in that division.”

  “I’ll immediately pass your recommendation on to Mr. Schultz. Now please try to stick to your story.”

  “I certainly do appreciate it; no one ever listens to my recommendations. But when a police person makes the recommendation, well, then things might change around there. Anyway, when I entered the division, there was no sign of her at all. But unless Miss Jones, the division head, had guests in her division, and I never signed in any guests that morning, well, the only other person it could be was Debra Black. You know, she works for Miss Jones.”

  “Why do you think it was Miss Black?”

  “It’s simple; Miss Black wears only two types of outfits. Now I don’t want to speak ill of others but her choice of outfits is as bad as I have ever seen. I tried to help her with her clothes selection, and guess what she said?”

  “Donna, I have no idea, and I don’t care! Now, please get back to the person that was in Mr. Schultz’s office!”

  “Oh, yes. Well, that day Miss Black was wearing the same poorly matched slacks and blouse that she had worn just a few days earlier. Can you imagine?”

  “No, I can’t. So you concluded Miss Black had been in Mr. Schultz’s office?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Interesting! Now, why do you believe your life is in danger?”

  “Well, shortly after closing time that same day, I was walking to my car, and I heard what seemed to be a gunshot sound. At least I think it was. I heard an immediate sound beyond me as if the bullet missed me and hit something solid. I ran, I really ran fast to my car and left for home and immediately locked all my doors.

  “The next day, on my way into the building, I decided to look in the area where I was at the time of the shooting and where the bullet might have gone. I found a segment on the cement wall that was shattered. I didn’t see a bullet, but I’m sure that is where it had landed.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “No, I was too scared. I thought if I didn’t think about it, it would go away.”

  “So, why did you come to me now?”

  “Because last night after I got home from work, I made a meal and then went directly to bed. I haven’t been getting much sleep lately—in fact, night before last, I went bar hopping and I stayed up much too late on a workday night. All day long I had almost been falling asleep at my desk and I said that’s it, once I get home I’m hitting the sack. But when I got home I realized I was hungry and I—”

  “—Ok, but I don’t understand what this has to do with your life being threatened.”

  “Well, if you would just let me explain, I will try to tell you.

  Donna continued with her story. “Well anyway, after I ate I went to bed. I woke up about three in the morning to the smell of gas. I knew it was three a.m. because I have a digital clock on my night table right next to my bed. I rushed in to turn off the range and I opened all the windows. Do you know how long it takes to clear all the gas out of a house?”

  “No, I don’t. Just tell me what happened.”

  “Well that is my story, except that I still didn’t get a good night’s sleep and I came directly to your office.”

  “I don’t understand—you left the gas on, and that means that someone tried to murder you?”

  “No, silly, I didn’t leave the gas on. I didn’t use the range; I cooked my dinner in the microwave. Why would I have used the gas range if I do all my cooking in the microwave?”

  “So you believe someone else had turned on the gas?”

  “Lieutenant, I live alone, are you trying to imply something?”

  “No, no, I’m just trying to understand. Does anyone else have a key to your home?”

  “Only my parents and they live in St. Louis. Do you think they would fly from St. Louis to Sarasota, enter my house, turn on the gas and then leave?”

  “No, not at all. Look, I’ll get my fingerprint expert and we’ll both go to your house. Maybe with luck we can find some unfamiliar prints on the stove.”

  Fred was not sure whether he was talking to a total nut case or a witness that could possibly shed some light on his investigation. She certainly wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer; but that didn’t mean her story had no merit.

  He decided he would first check the area where Donna had indicated a bullet had struck the cement behind the AU Building. Meanwhile, he directed Patrolman Maloney to take Donna’s fingerprints for comparison purposes and to take Donna directly to her house and take fingerprints from the doorknobs and
the stove. He indicated he would join them shortly.

  At the AU parking lot Fred found an area of shattered cement chips just where Donna had told him it would be. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find any spent shells. He took a few pieces of the cement to the station to determine if a microscopic examination would show anything.

  When he was through, he drove directly to Donna’s house. Patrolman Maloney was busy taking fingerprints when Fred arrived.

  Donna was sitting on the sofa drinking a cop of coffee while watching an I Love Lucy rerun.

  A batch of recent comic books rested on the coffee table. The daily paper was opened to the comic page. It figures, Fred thought to himself.

  He carefully inspected the kitchen, the foyer and the living room. They were the obvious places in which the killer would have entered the premises. The condo was spotless. The kitchen was pristine with nothing but a single toaster resting on the counter top. He looked at the kitchen floor for possible footprints. The spacious floor looked as if it had been mopped on a daily basis. He opened the cabinet doors, but he saw only food items and cleaning supplies, nothing unusual, and everything in perfect order. Apparently, no one had touched anything there.

  Fred opened the front door. To the left of the knob, he noticed some fresh paint scratches extending about an inch from the lock mechanism. The lock was obviously inexpensive and easily compromised. This had to be the source of entry for the intruder, Fred thought. Patrolman Maloney was just finishing up as Fred left for the station.

  *

  Fred was signing some papers when Patrolman Maloney returned. The officer indicated that none of the prints on any of the door knobs were legible. However, he had obtained some good prints from two of the knobs on the gas range.

  Fred dropped off the cement pieces he had obtained from the AU parking lot with the evidence department. Meanwhile, he called Schultz to see if any fingerprints had been taken of the company’s employees during their security check.

  Schultz said, “Fred, you are in luck. Based on the amount of highly classified work we perform, we require an FBI check for most of our employees. Along with that check is a mandatory fingerprint record. I don’t have the fingerprint records but I’m sure the FBI can help you out.”

  “Thanks. By the way, how are you feeling?”

  “The same, I’m afraid,” Schultz said wearily.

  In the background Fred could hear Mrs. Schultz asking who was on the phone. My God, she keeps a tight rein on him, Fred thought. And somehow I don’t think it’s just because of his medical condition.

  Not wanting to test the limits of Mrs. Schultz’ wrath, Fred ended the call.

  His next action was to call Brian Miller, a friend of his from the FBI.

  “Hey, Brian, this is Fred Harris; can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure thing, Fred, within reasonable and legal boundaries, that is. What do you need?”

  “I want you to compare some prints for me. I’m investigating a murder case and I need you to check a fingerprint I have against a set of prints from employees from the Analysis Unlimited Company located in Sarasota, Florida. I can give you their names and Social Security numbers if you like.”

  “Do any of them have a clearance?”

  “I believe they all do.”

  “Okay, fax me the data you have and I’ll get a comparison done. It most likely will take a couple of days.”

  “Thanks, Brian, whatever you can do, and as fast as you can do it, I will sure appreciate it.”

  *

  The forensic department contacted Fred regarding the microscopic scan of the cement fragments. Evidence of lead was found in the fragments.

  No question, Fred thought, that lead represents a trace of the impact of a gunshot. Lead would not be a natural ingredient of cement. So Donna was telling the truth, and someone really was after her.

  Fred sent a team of officers to look over the entire area of the shooting in the AU parking lot. The results of the search found something that Fred had never even hoped for. A shell casing had fallen into a deep crack between the edge of the building and the parking lot. Fred thought he had done a good job canvassing the area; but he had completely overlooked that segment.

  Based on the new evidence, Fred put a 24 hour police watch on Donna Lang, and told her under no conditions was she to go to work for at least a couple of days. He wanted the results of the FBI fingerprint comparison completed before he would consider allowing her to return to her normal routine.

  Shortly thereafter, Fred received a call from Brian Miller.

  “Fred, I have some good news for you. I completed the fingerprint check. I started doing the comparison from the list you gave me with those you considered the most suspicious at the top of my list. We had a hit already.”

  “I can’t believe it!”

  “You better believe it. The print match was exact. As you know, fingerprint experts need at least an eight point match to be used as credible evidence in a trial. In this case it was no less than sixteen points.”

  “Who is the person?”

  “We linked it to a Debra Black!”

  Fred could not believe the good luck he was having. He called Donna at her home.

  “Donna, this is Lieutenant Harris. Now please listen very carefully. Have you ever had anybody from your company over to your house in the last few days?”

  “What do you think I am, anti-social?”

  “No, Donna, I don’t. Could you just please answer my question?”

  “Well, I had someone from my bridge club over; and my sister came over once last week.”

  Fred was starting to tear out his few remaining hairs.

  “Donna! What about people you work with?”

  “No! I am not anti-social but I really don’t get along with many of them. Now, Elton is OK, but Josh—”

  “—Thanks!” Fred hung up. He had his evidence. He still could not link the suspect to the mass murders; but he could make a definite match to the attempted murder of the AU secretary.

  With the evidence he held, he requested a search warrant to investigate the contents of Miss Black’s home. With any luck, he felt he could find a weapon that might have been used in Donna’s attempted murder.

  He sent Jim over to AU to pick up Miss Black for questioning.

  While Jim was gone, Fred went in to brief the chief. In various meetings with him, it had become obvious that the chief was convinced that one did not have to look any further for those responsible for the mass murders than in the jail cells where the two suspects were being held. Fred was only successful in extending his investigation based on the district attorney’s desire to have him look deeper into it. Fortunately, the chief was a big picture person and allowed a great degree of freedom of action from his subordinates as long as he believed they were following his general directions.

  Now Fred was faced with the reality of having to tell the chief that he really believed the two suspects they had in custody were not really the brains behind the crimes. It had been extremely difficult to convince him that the entire purpose of the shooting sprees was just to kill two men. Now, to go to the next step to indicate that the murders had little or no responsibility in the killings, would be too much to ask from an unsympathetic superior. On the other hand, he could simply limit his discussion to the attempt on Donna’s life and buy more time in the process. He decided on the latter course, knowing that a confrontation would have to occur at some time in the near future. Until then, the more evidence he could gather in the interim, the more fortified his position would be.

  Shit! He was really beginning to hate this job more and more with all of its political overtones; it had been so much better being a cop on the beat with someone else dealing with the never ending vagaries of the political system.

  The chief listened intently to Fred’s explanation of the attempted murder of Schultz’s secretary. His only comment was, “Good job, Fred, keep me informed.”

  *

  A judg
e signed the search warrant for Debra Black’s home. Things finally seemed to be going in the right direction.

  Jim entered the station with Black handcuffed and protesting violently. He notified Fred of her presence. “Fred, this wildcat gave me a hard time and asked that she make one phone call before I took her in. I let her do that and she calmed down immediately.”

  “Okay, Jim, take her to the interrogation room.”

  Fred asked the chief if he wanted to be present during the interrogation. The chief smiled and said, “No, this is your case, you handle it!”

  Fred carefully laid out to Miss Black the facts of the attempted murder of Donna and the undeniable presence of her own fingerprints on the range knob where the gas had been turned on. He asked if she had any explanation of how it could have been there—any explanation at all?

  The interrogation continued for the next fifteen minutes, with Miss Black vehemently insisting she had never been anywhere near Donna’s place, that she didn’t even know where Donna lived.

  There was a knock on the door and Patrolman Charles entered asking to speak to Fred outside the room. Patrolman Charles was one of the policemen who had searched Miss Black’s house.

  Fred asked, “What’s up?”

  “Well, we found something you might be interested in, Lieutenant.” In his hand was a .32 caliber automatic wrapped in plastic.

  “We found this hidden beneath the floor boards of her house. We were lucky, one of the screws in the floor boards had not been totally screwed in, we spotted it and when we pulled up the floor board, there it was.”

  Fred was ecstatic. “Have this weapon fired in the lab and make sure a ballistics test is conducted on the barrel’s signature. Compare it to the shell casing that we found in the AU parking lot.”

  Fred re-entered the interrogation room. “Miss Black, we found a .32 caliber automatic hidden under the floor boards in your house. We are at this very moment comparing that gun to a shell casing that we found at the AU parking lot. As you well know, an attempt was made on Miss Lang’s life in that same parking lot. If we have a match, then you can be assured that you will have an attempted murder charge against you. Now, would you like to say something?”