Signal to Murder

by Rhone Sonnier

  I start thinking and begin speaking out loud, to myself, as I begin revisiting the events leading to CeCe’s murder. “Why was CeCe killed? Why, CeCe?” Devon asks himself. His thoughts continue to be spoken out loud, “I will find the extortionist murderer, El Sicko. You wait and see I’ll find him. If it takes the rest of my life I will get him and settle with him, man to man. He forced us to do his will and now he will pay for this.”

  Suddenly holding my tongue not speaking out loud, I think, “I need to talk to the old one that has the red dog; this is what I need to do. I must talk to the old one. El Sicko is a sick murderer. I think that the signal to murder that CeCe told me about was intended for the old one and not Keith Edwards. The way to hurt Keith Edwards is to hurt the old one, the extortionist must know this.”

  CeCe said El Sicko told her to secretly observe the old one, but to avoid eye contact or physical contact with him. He told CeCe the old one observes everything around him. He will take notice of you as you walk and sit in the park.

  El Sicko must know that the old one will suspect that someone manipulated the women who fired at Keith and himself. He must believe that if the old one survives the shooting, he will begin searching for a person with a grudge and mental bitterness toward Keith Edwards.

  I think that the old one will need minimum information to focus in on a prime suspect. I am sure he suspects someone that is or was close to Keith. That someone holds a grudge and hatred for a past or ongoing grave injustice. This hatred and vengeance has manifested itself in attempts on Keith Edwards’ life and that of Francis Sorrell. The old one will know he must find Keith’s nemesis, the one who believes Keith has done him wrong.

  I will tell the old one about the extortionist and how he blackmailed CeCe and me. I am sure he will analyze the extortionist and understand him better than I ever could; he will probably come to know the extortionist better than he knows himself.

  I continue thinking, “I must make contact with Francis Sorrell before something else happens. I have not heard any news reports, but I hope that he and his grandson did not die. I know that he alone is no match for the lunatic murderer of CeCe. The extortionist knows that Mr. Sorrell and his grandson are forces to be dealt with. I witnessed their competence at the assault scene. I will tell Mr. Sorrell that I would like to share information with them in the hopes of finding the blackmailer/killer.

  I must gather Prince’s clothing and take him to Aunt Fabida’s; while I am there I will get some sleep because I plan to stake out the ambush area tonight. There is still something going on, I do not know what, I only have a gut feeling. I will follow through on those feelings, and I will figure out how and when to talk with Francis Sorrell.

  Chapter 35

  Brenda Seemore, Keith’s Landlady

  I, Ms. Brenda Seemore, function as Keith Edwards Sorrell’s apartment building manager. I prefer being referred to as Ms. Seemore, not by my first name Brenda. I am a professional and expect proper protocol to be followed when someone addresses me.

  As I sit in my apartment drinking a cup of tea, I contemplate looking out for Dillon while Keith and his Grandfather Francis recuperate following the assault. I am concerned about Dillon’s walks, food and water. I walked him and made sure he had food and water yesterday morning after I let him in the apartment and again yesterday afternoon and last night, but I am not sure I can care for his needs this morning. Suddenly I remember Sis Taylor, “Maybe I can get her to check on him.”

  Sis Taylor lives in the apartment next to Keith. I am not only her landlady, but her boss. A few months ago our part-time cleaning lady quit, Sis told me she was interested in the position. She said her regular job, which she worked by computer from home, had cut her hours and she needed extra income. I informed her of the pay and the fact that she would receive a substantial discount on her apartment rent. We agreed on terms and Sis began to function in the position. A perk of renting an apartment in this building is free apartment cleaning if the resident calls and requests to be placed on the twice a week cleaning list. We have only so many openings on the cleaning days. The residents like this perk. Sis has been doing an acceptable job.

  I realize that I have not seen Sis or her cleaning cart since the fiasco early yesterday morning. Sis’ regular cleaning days are Tuesday and Thursday. She works her other job from home so maybe I can catch her there. I decide to call her on her cell phone she does not have a land line. I am sure she will help me with Dillon.

  I dial Sis’ cell phone and there is an out of service message. I think, “This is odd, I wonder why her cell phone is not working; I hope all is well with her. I had better go take care of Dillon’s needs, and then I will check on Sis and see if she can help with Dillon this afternoon or tonight. I do not want Dillon to suffer.”

  After caring for Dillon I decide to see if Sis is at home before I go back to my apartment. I walk next door and ring Sis’ doorbell.

  While I am standing outside Sis’s door Mr. Thomas tells me, “Yesterday morning Sis Taylor was knocked down by Keith when he ran into the hallway to catch up with the police lady who took Dillon. It may be that she was injured and is recuperating in her apartment. I ran into a couple of residents that had Tuesday cleaning scheduled and they each asked me if I had seen Sis, I told them just what I told you. Maybe she did not clean yesterday because she was hurt. Maybe you should contact her scheduled appointments.”

  I reflect back to yesterday morning, as I was standing in the entrance door watching the crime scene, Sis came up next to me, she had her cleaning cart, I looked at it. I turned back to the scene outside and a short time later I noticed that Sis and the cart were gone.

  After talking with my tenant, I decide to enter Sis’ apartment and find that she is not there. When I enter the bedroom I notice the closet doors are open and clothing removed. Sis is not simply missing for the day, Sis is gone, she has moved out. “No tenant, no cleaning lady, no clothes in her closets, no bags, she is gone. She has definitely moved out without notice and left her cleaning job without notice, that ungrateful little witch,” I say out loud.”

  I consider the possibilities, “Perhaps I am being too hasty in branding her ungrateful, maybe the trouble yesterday, the shooting, scared her off. This is very puzzling to me; I think I had better telephone the police.”

  I recall that yesterday after the assault Homicide Detectives Hernandez and Breau visited me in my apartment. I had met them previously after the gassing attempt on Keith’s life occurred. I remember offering the gentlemen coffee and they asked me questions about what I had seen or heard during the morning leading up to and during the shooting in the street.

  I told the detectives that my buzzer had been rung and when I went to the front door the SWAT team was there and they told me they had been sent regarding a drug bust. I told them that I knew my tenant’s very well and that could not be possible.

  I remembered that I told the detectives that I gave the SWAT team a key to avoid damages; I was so scared. I was not supposed to, but I followed the officers upstairs and watched them enter Keith’s apartment. I then turned and went back downstairs to my apartment. I was standing at my front window when I saw Dillon, then Keith, and Mr. Francis leave the building. I went to the entrance to see if I could be of assistance to them since I knew that it was their apartment that SWAT entered.

  I looked out and witnessed shooting and panic. I moved backwards into the foyer and when all the vehicles began to arrive I returned to the entrance. I know nothing else. I deliberately did not mention Dillon and the cane. If anyone wants to know more about Dillon they will have to ask Raj.

  My thoughts return to the present. It is shortly after 8:00 a.m. I will wait until mid-morning and telephone the police precinct and speak to Detective Breau. When I make my call, Detective Breau comes on the line and I tell him about Tabatha Sis Taylor; my resident employee; he says that he and Detective Hernandez will be over shortly.

  Time seems to pass slowly as I worry about Sis Taylo
r having, without any explanation to me, abandoned her apartment and job. I ask myself out loud, “What has happened to Sis?”

  Chapter 36

  Tabatha Sis Taylor

  While packing my belongings in two duffle style bags I, Tabatha Sis Taylor, begin my disappearance from this apartment and Rockford, Illinois. I am Six’s younger sister and I dare not think or speak of his true identity for fear of recrimination and retaliation toward him. My brother is Keith Edwards’ bitter enemy. I revel in the fact that for months I have been living next door to Keith, cleaning his apartment, and he has no idea who I am or that he even has what some would call a nemesis.

  I will be glad to be out of this apartment, the part-time cleaning job, which I hate, and Rockford, Illinois.

  I constantly revisit the past and contemplate my future. In my mind I revisit the attempt I made months ago on Keith Edwards life. It was I who placed a strong narcotic in his milk, made sure all the windows were closed, turned on his gas oven, and left the oven door open so that the gas would fill the apartment quickly.

  I left his apartment and returned later to ensure that he was dead. On my return, I could see that he was still breathing, his eyelids fluttered, and his arms and legs were twitching. I struck him on the head with a small cast iron frying pan from his kitchen cabinet. I remember I thought, “You will not wake up now; the gas will finish you off.” I left him to die, but remarkably despite all my efforts he lived.

  I attempted to murder Edwards because he is guilty of destroying my brother’s life. Six and I failed in our first attempt to murder Keith, and we tried but did not succeed in killing his Grandfather right before his eyes. If Keith dies, Six will be angry, but I will be pleased. Six wants Keith to suffer mental and physical anguish. Six has come to realize that Keith’s death would not be as satisfying as causing him ongoing mental anguish.

  Sis reflects back, “I originally rented my apartment to be near Keith Edwards’ apartment. After the part-time cleaning lady left her job, I was able to play on Ms. Seemore’s sympathies and hire into the job. At the insistence of Six I also acquired an additional part-time cleaning job at a nanny service.”

  Sis continues reflecting, “I attempted to kill Keith Edwards, but failed. He was left with amnesia. The second attempt on Edwards’ life included my helping Su Chi Ku remove his dog from his apartment. The only way I could accomplish this was if I continued to live next door to Keith Edwards Sorrell.”

  While cleaning Keith’s apartment it was easy for me to place a liquid anticoagulant agent into the beverages in his refrigerator. The anticoagulant appeared to have worked, because I learned from Six that the EMT’s and Triage had to give Edwards a blood transfusion. Six and I wanted him in pain or dead, not to bleed to death. Fortunately, the wound he suffered was severe enough to merit surgery, but not severe enough to cause him to bleed heavily or quickly. He remains alive.

  My head aches as my mind has drifted back to the most recent past and again back to the present realizing that Keith and his Grandfather are both alive.

  Francis Rene` Sorrell is not dead; I cannot believe that he survived the assault. This morning I witnessed him lying in the street, not moving. Keith was shouting Grandfather, Grandfather. Six witnessed both men go down, but later learned that they were both at Rockford Memorial Hospital in stable condition.

  I need a mental break but my thoughts will not provide it as I see vivid images pass through my mind. I recall taking the elevator to the first floor entrance, and witnessing some of the ambush. Ms. Seemore saw me standing slightly behind her with the cleaning cart. A short time later, I went to Edwards’ apartment and stood in his living room window so I could look down at the aftermath of the ambush. I remember smiling as I looked down at Keith Edwards as he and his Grandfather Francis lay dying on the street below.

  I recall thinking as I looked down at the street, “The old one who Keith loves and relies on the most for his safety is dead, and if Keith dies that will be icing on the cake.” Unfortunately, my joy was short lived as I saw them dead and then in the next instance alive. I find Grandson and Grandfather are hard to kill.

  I think, “I can still gloat, we at least have caused more havoc and misery in Edwards’ life. I know that Six is disappointed that the Sorrell’s are not dead, but he is too disciplined to not enjoy the success we did have.

  As I contemplate and pack, Six is carrying out his part of our exit plan. I must regroup and refocus my thoughts. I know that both Six and I must disappear immediately. I am almost finished packing; I will remain in my apartment and leave at the planned time to go to the Birch Tree bus stop. Our plan is for me to maintain contact with Six by use of a disposable cell phone, and I will meet Six in Dallas, Texas at a pre-arranged place and time.

  At about 1:45 a.m. on the morning of April 15, I cautiously exit the side door of my apartment building. As I reach the corner of the building and glance to my right I see a television news van parked at the curb down from the crime scene.

  I turn left in front of the building and while walking I begin to light the cigarette I have been craving. I know that I am a chain smoker and must break the habit, but I have had much difficulty in accomplishing this feat. I cross Elm Street and walk around the outside perimeter of Forest City Park. Elm Street in front of my apartment building and the park entrance is closed off, barricaded with crime scene markers. Through traffic on this part of Elm is temporarily rerouted, even the city buses. As planned, I am walking around the park to the Birch Street bus stop to catch the 2:00 a.m. bus.

  I proceed to the place where I must cross Elm. As though in a dream and physically exhausted I step off the curb, lose my footing and almost fall. I say out loud, “Tabatha Sis Taylor, get a grip on yourself. No time for sprained ankles. Concentrate on what you are doing.”

  Lost in my own thoughts and worrying I once more think, “I must stop this terrible smoking habit. I have a great deal on my mind, and along with that I do not need to be distracted by smoking while I am trying to get out of Rockford. I smoke a lot; I could end up with throat cancer and have to drink buttermilk all the time like Six.”

  Worrying about my brother Six and what he is doing at the moment, I continue walking around Forrest City Park to the bus stop. There are very few people out this hour of the morning so I do not have to worry about avoiding direct eye contact and conversation with anyone.

  At 2:00 a.m. I catch my bus. As I enter the bus I notice that a tall well-dressed Chinese gentleman boards behind me. I have seen him somewhere, but I cannot recall the situation or place. As I deposit my fare, my attention is drawn to the waste can between the driver and his window; there is a discarded buttermilk carton lying right on top. I give a sharp intake of breath and quickly look down at the coin machine. I notice that the Chinese gentleman sees my reactions and looks toward the trash receptacle. I question myself, “Is he going to be a problem for me, us?”

  As I choose a seat my thoughts wander, “I tend to forget that many people work jobs that require them to travel at all times of the night.” I try to avoid calling attention to myself. I try to not think about the empty quart container that once held buttermilk, but I question myself anyway, “Will someone trace the carton to Six? Is his DNA on the carton? Are his fingerprints on the carton? Did someone on the bus see him throw the carton in the receptacle?” Since the encounter on the bus with the Chinese man, I have given these questions deep thought, and I know the answer to at least two of these questions is yes.

  I choose an empty double seat close to the front of the bus and place one of my bags on the empty seat and the other on the floor. I notice that the Chinese gentleman sits across the aisle and one seat back. I glance back and notice that the gentleman seems to be peering through the rear windows of the bus as if something has gotten his attention. I turn around in my seat and face the front of the bus.

  I sit quietly and when the bus stops where I want to get off, I take my two bags and exit the bus. After I step onto the sidewal
k I notice that the Chinese gentleman is dozing.

  I turn and begin my walk to the Trailways terminal where I will depart to begin a new life.

  Chapter 37

  Breau is Inquisitive

  Breau watches as the young lady rises from her seat to leave the bus. He feigns sleep as she picks up her bags and exits the bus. As the bus begins moving Breau walks forward to question the bus driver about the young lady and about the buttermilk carton in his trash basket.

  Breau asks the bus driver, “Do you know the young lady who just got off at the last stop? The driver hesitates to answer and Breau flashes his Homicide Detective Badge. He says, “She lives in that apartment building across from the entrance to Forest City Park on Elm Street. I do not know her name. Although there is a bus stop at that park entrance she quite often gets the bus at the Forest City Park Birch Street bus stop. She seems nice enough, keeps to herself.”

  Looking at the buttermilk carton in the driver’s trash can Breau asks, “Is that your milk carton?”

  The driver looks quizzical but answers, “No it is not, another driver must have discarded it. Only drivers are allowed to use this basket and each driver is responsible for emptying it out when they leave the bus. The drivers on this route have agreed to do that as a courtesy to each other. This is the first time I have seen this negligence. Detective, I just remembered something, since the Elm Street route was changed due to the crime scene the dispatcher switched this bus from that route. This is the bus that usually runs on Elm.”