Late Night Phone Calls 1

I hope you all like this one. I wanted to give you something slightly different with a little twist.

*****

There is one thing I truly hate about my job and that is getting a late night phone call. When a call like that comes in, it means only one thing...murder.

I've been a Homicide Detective for over 20 years and have seen the worse that a supposed civilized man can do to another.

My years in the Marines before I became a cop were less bloody. Sure, it was war and we killed each other, but here, stateside, among our own people is where I find the true cruelty of man. I'm coming up on mandatory retirement in less than two weeks and I will embrace it like I do my wife every night.

My wife. She is a wonderful woman and very passionate. These late night calls bother her more than they do me. But this one seems to bother her more than I thought it would. It's most likely because she was hoping the last one was just that, the last one before I retired. She had hoped my time as a cop would end peacefully without having to deal with another homicide.

My wife had only been in bed with me for a few hours. She had a rare "girls night out" with several of her friends. They don't go wild at some meat shoppe trolling for men or get stumbling drunk. A few of them get together now and then just to clear their heads from the mundane day to day life we all have. All of her friends are cream of the crop women that grew up together. Each one of them are in long term marriages, just like me and Helen.

When I was given the particulars of the call I knew this one was trouble. Helen knew from my expression is wasn't good. "Who is it Jacob?" I looked at her having trouble believing it myself, "It's Frank and Beverly Nelson." At one time we were fairly close to each other. We were neighbors when the kids were small, but after they moved away we all got busy with our own careers leaving little time to maintain the friendship we once had.

It had to bad for my Lieutenant to call me out when I was so close to retirement.

Helen watched me get dressed with a look of apprehension on her face. If I didn't know better I think she may have known something. I was in cop mode by now and had a job to do. "OK Helen, spill it. You know something, I can tell. You and I have been together too long to start hiding things from each other. What do you know?"

"I don't know anything Jacob." When I gave her the look I usually do when I know she's holding something back she decided it best to give it up. "OK. I saw Beverly last week having lunch with some guy and it seemed to me they were awfully friendly with each other. They were too friendly if you get my drift."

"How come you didn't mention that you talked to Beverly last week? I figured you would have caught up with her and seen how she and Frank were doing."

"I told you she was too friendly with the guy she was with and I didn't feel comfortable talking to her. What she was doing with the guy wasn't right. It was a disgusting display. Even from a distance it gave me the creeps."

"What did this guy look like?"

"Early to mid thirties, well over six foot, short blonde hair, dressed in a gray business suit."

"Anything besides them acting inappropriate bother you about them?"

"Trust me honey, that was enough. You know how I feel about cheaters." Asking Helen anymore about what she witnessed between Beverly and this guy would have been useless. When she said "cheaters" it was over. Throughout the years we have both seen too many marriages fail because some damn idiot, male and female, decided that their wedding vows no longer mattered. We both despise cheaters and believe they deserve what they get when they get caught. I did however believe murder to be a little excessive.

I gave my wife a kiss and headed out. As I pulled up to the Nelson household, I noticed the coroner beat me there and was already busy with the bodies. Walking up to the house there were several uniforms keeping the spectators away. They did take a few seconds to tell me a few old man jokes. Everyone knew I was shy of mandatory so, to them, I was an old man.

My Lieutenant was there waiting for me which was unusual. Guess he wanted to gauge my objectivity and my ability to do my job since I once had a personal relationship with the victims. He was satisfied I would be OK and in the long run he figured it would be beneficial having me on the case since I would work harder to solve their murders.

I asked him how bad it was inside. He shook his head and handed me booties for my shoes. Taking a quick glimpse inside through the doorway I could see the blood splatter already. What ever happened, happened in the front room. I just finished putting on my booties when one of the rooky cops came running outside and spilled his guts on the bushes. A few of his friends gave him some ribbing, but for me, I've been there myself so I said nothing.

There wasn't much to see after passing the threshold, but as I turned in to the living room the scene set me back. On the floor was a unclothed male of undetermined height suffering two shot gun blasts. His height was unknown because his head was missing. Well it wasn't really missing. It was splattered all over the wall by the fireplace mantle. The second shot was made point blank to his genitals. Whoever did this was seriously pissed off and was intent on making a statement.

The second body was female partially nude and appeared to be in the process of undressing or covering up. She was killed with one shot gun blast to the chest, also point blank range. Her heart was gone. I knew what this meant. The female victim was Beverly Nelson.

The male on the floor wasn't Frank. I knew that much. Even with his head missing the man on the floor was taller than Frank. Frank wasn't tall in stature, but he was always solidly built from exercise and construction work. He owned his own company and wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. He always preferred working along side his men instead of sitting in an office. I respected him for that.

Upon immediate inspection of the scene, it appears that Frank came home and took care of business in the only way he knew how. He took out lover boy's good looks and removed the tool he used to take his wife from him. Then, since Beverly ripped his heart out, he returned the favor.

The shotgun was dropped on the floor between the two lovers. The gun cabinet in the den across the hall was opened and there were 12 gauge shells laying loose on the desk close by. A quick count determined the box was new with four shells missing. It wasn't hard to account for them. Three shots to the bodies and one remained in the chamber of the shotgun.

Frank's finger prints being on the shotgun meant nothing since it was his gun, but if his prints were on the shells, then this would be an easy open and shut case. The box of shells were new. On the edge of the lid was a small mark of smeared blood. The killer more than likely cut their finger on the edge when they tried to pry it open in a hurry. Frank would have been very emotional at the time with his hands shaking uncontrollably while he prepared to shoot his wife and her lover.

Determining if the blood was his belonged to the experts on forensics team. If I was really lucky, they would also find his bloody finger print on the trigger of the shotgun.

If it turned out Frank was the killer, the District Attorney would present the case as husband comes home, finds his wife with her lover and snaps. A simple crime of passion. Frank would most likely get a short jail sentence, but he'd still end up bobbing for apples with a prison buddy for a few years.

It took several hours for the crime scene guys to map everything out. I headed home till it was time for my shift to officially start.

Not surprisingly, Helen was still up waiting for my return. I told her Beverly was dead and what was most likely her lover was dead along side her. She came over to me and hugged me tightly saying she will miss the person her former friend used to be but not the person that would cheat on her husband so blatantly and so publicly.

When she asked me about Frank. All I could do was tell her he was wanted for questioning, but that was all for the moment. Until the crime scene was fully processed, there was no direct evidence tagging him as the killer.

After a two hour nap I drove to the precinct. The preliminary report would still take a couple hours but I told the Lieutenant I was headed down to Nelson's Construction Company. He already had a squad car on site waiting to take Frank into custody when he showed up for work. I was hoping a friendly face might make things easier when he did.

The office was already open when I parked the car. The patrol officers had already inquired about Frank and was told he was out of town bidding on a job. Frank's secretary had been trying to get a hold of him for the past half hour. Frank wasn't answering his phone but she had been able to find out his appointment was delayed until later in the morning, per his request.

The company he had his appointment with was located in Parkersburg. Since it was a long drive he reserved a motel room for the night before so he could make what was an early morning appointment. I knew if he wanted to kill his wife and her lover, there would be more than enough time for him to drive home from there, commit the murders and drive back in time to keep his original appointment. So why the delay? It would have helped his alibi by showing up as originally planned since the meeting was scheduled early in the morning. Not doing so was more of a red flag to his involvement.

Unable to make contact with Frank, it was decided to have the patrol car cruise by regularly just in case he showed up.

A call to the motel confirmed his check in at 2030 hours last night. I also called the cell phone company and pinged his cell phone. His cell phone failed to show up on the cell towers locator. His phone wasn't turned off, it just wasn't. A phone turned off can still be pinged. The emergency locator function cannot be turned off. Either the battery was completely drained or he removed it from the phone.

My Lieutenant approved the drive down to Parkersburg. If nothing else, I owed it to my former friend to show up personally and take him into custody for questioning.

The drive was uneventful until I ran into some road construction. The damn Ohio Department of Transportation (ODOT) has a nasty habit of a all or nothing approach to road repair. You're either losing your suspension in a pot hole the size of a bus or you're sitting still on the interstate waiting for them to figure out how to fill the damn thing. A simple two hour drive turned into a three hour cuss fest.

And if ODOT kept to their usual shit, then before 1800 hours the road was restricted to one lane only and then after 1800 hours they pretty much closed the roads down while they looked busy standing around.

To make matters worse, overhead utility lines were being run over the same section of road resulting in even longer delays. It was a scheduling nightmare for the State Troopers. I really felt for my fellow law enforcement brothers.

After finally making it to Baker's Realty Experts, the first thing I noticed was the absence of Frank's car. I checked in with the company president's personal assistant and was told Frank was there and currently presenting his bid to the board and had been in their office for close to two hours. The meeting was expected to end at any moment as the president had another scheduled meeting immediately after. There were a total of three construction companies that made it through the initial screening and each were qualified of being considered for the general contractor's job.

It was a very attractive bid. Bonuses were offered as an incentive to beat not only schedule deadlines but build quality as well.

I asked for some of the president's time before his next meeting. The assistant went inside the conference room and came back with an approval for a few minutes but nothing more.

While waiting in the lobby, another general contractor came in to give his presentation to Baker's Realty. You could tell he was very nervous. If I guessed right his skills were geared more toward the construction side of the business than schmoozing clients. He must've just come off the job because he was still knocking the dirt off his shoes and his hands showed the effect of years of hard work.

Fifteen minutes later Frank came out with a happy expression on his face shaking hands with the President and Board Members of Baker's Realty. Needless to say he was shocked to see me standing there but he was able to keep his composure walking up and greeting me like the old friends we once were.

Pulling him off to the side I quietly told him to wait for me outside and not to try leaving as doing so would be very bad for him. His face continued to show concern but when he told me he would be waiting outside, I knew he meant it.

My time with the company president proved beneficial. Turns out the three companies were bidding on a five million dollar office building and a five year building maintenance contract, itself worth millions. It was possible the build and the maintenance jobs would go to different companies, but all were to present bids for both jobs.

I was told by the president that one of the bidders used to be a regional powerhouse until a few construction accidents and shoddy workmanship hurt their reputation. Now they were trying to regain the prestige they had before.

He was a fair man and was willing to give them a shot at redemption but he would be more critical of their proposal than he would be of the others. The third company was an up and comer with positive references. He doubted they had the resources for the construction side of the job but the maintenance side was well within their ability. He was the underdog of the three.

When I asked him of the prospects for Frank's company he said that Frank and his company were the preferred bidder for the construction but not necessarily for the maintenance portion of the bid.

The president had his own concerns on why I was there asking questions about one of the men he was considering for a major build. I gave it to him straight. That Frank's wife was murdered during the night and as part of a normal investigation, I needed to confirm his whereabouts.

He asked it I considered Frank a suspect, I told him, as a detective, everyone is a suspect until evidence proves otherwise. However, I explained our prior relationship and if he was the man I once knew, then no, I didn't consider him responsible for his wife's murder.

That seems to satisfy him for the moment, but he asked that I keep him informed of any information that, while not impeding my investigation, would be beneficial to his construction project. Too much money and too many people's livelihood were at stake.

Since I had a possible murderer outside I couldn't stay away from him for too long. Walking outside the office Frank was waiting by my car just as he said he would be. "What the hell is going on Jacob? Why are you here and why are you after me?"

It did seem that he was genuinely surprised by me being there. "I thought after last night you'd have figured that out on your own."

"What the hell are you talking about Jacob?"

"Beverly, Frank. You killing Beverly and..."

His eyes opened wide and his mouth dropped open in shock. Next thing I knew he had tears flowing down his face. He fell against my car barely holding himself up. As a seasoned cop I've seen every acting job a person can play to try and beat a murder wrap. But here was a man who actually looked like he did not know his wife was dead.

"Jacob, did you just say 'I killed Beverly?' I couldn't kill her. I loved her."

Past tense, interesting.

"She was nothing but a cheating slut but she was still the mother of our kids. I wouldn't kill her just for that."

He knew. We have motive.

"Frank, why haven't you been answering your phone and where is your car?"

I could tell he was still processing the news of his wife when he started to tell me about how he confronted his wife and her lover at his house. He said he didn't take it well that her lover was in his home and he pushed the guy around a little but that was it. He did tell her since the house was in his name only, he wanted her out and that she would be served with divorce papers as soon as he could call his lawyer.

When I asked him again about his car he told me he caught some line wrap from the overhead utility work and dragged it all the way to the motel he was staying at. That was the reason for rescheduling this morning's appointment. A local garage has his car and he planned on going there directly from his meeting to pick it up so he could head back home. Actually, he was going to a motel for the few days until Beverly mover her shit out of his house.

Since it would be part of the investigation and for the moment I needed to keep Frank in my custody, I drove us over to the garage working on his car. Sure enough his car was there and per Frank's insistence they provided the written order detailing the time he dropped off his car and work they performed. The car never left their possession. As a courtesy the owner drove Frank over to his motel and to his meeting this morning.

I told Frank we were going over to a restaurant so we could talk more and have lunch. At this point I no longer worried about his fleeing. There was enough preliminary evidence to show he wasn't the killer, but I needed to know about things between him and Beverly.

For the next hour and a half he spelled out what sounded like a bad internet cheating wife story. He was on the verge of tears through out his telling. Seeing the pain in the eyes of a man I knew on a personal level magnified my dislike for adulterers even more.

I've been a homicide cop for a long time and seen some extremely stupid reasons to kill someone. Like the guy who killed his brother because he ate the last pork chop. But here and now I could almost understand why someone loses it and uses a shotgun on another human being.

Sitting in that diner I knew I was retiring one month too late. I knew for a fact he was distraught over Beverly's cheating and her murder. No one is that good of an actor. However, as a cop I knew he could be distraught and still be the murderer.

With our lunch over I told Frank that I was allowing him to drive his own car home but that I would follow him. At the moment I had no direct evidence of his being the killer and with his car in a garage in Parkersburg, I had no reason to place him under arrest. There was enough reasonable doubt.

I called my Lieutenant on the drive back and brought him up to speed. He advised me they still haven't identified the male victim. His finger prints haven't showed up on any data bases.

The next few days involved retracing Frank's activities for the past few weeks and up to the time of the murders. During this time the forensic accounts where reviewing the financial records of the three companies involved in the Baker's Realty construction bid. It was necessary to cover the money reason for murder.

People kill because of passion or money.

I was home asleep when I got another late night phone call. You wouldn't believe the words screaming inside my head. This time though Helen wasn't disturbed by the call. It was the night desk sergeant telling me he just had two patrols respond to a report of gunshots at a motel downtown. The room Frank was staying at was shot up pretty bad.

He wasn't hurt but terribly shaken up. He was being treated by the medics when I showed up. Glass shards from the shattered window nicked him up but that was it. He was still in shock by someone trying to kill him but refused a trip to the hospital. He instead asked to be allowed to find a safe place to stay before the person who tried to kill him came back to finish the job.