SR Murders--18

Silent Radio Murders1

By Andy Stephenson and Geri Fitzsimmons2

Chapter eighteen3

Sandra May Hart had spent one of the two hours prior to reporting for her shift at Mallory’s in the hallowed dressing area of New York City’s Macy's Department Store. She’d been to several less pretentious shops earlier and come away empty. Accepting, she was about to blow a bundle, she shrugged off the knowledge for she was desperate to find the perfect bathing suit. The salesgirl lugged dozen of styles in shades that blended perfectly with Sandy’s lightly tanned flesh, auburn highlighted brunette hair and bright blue eyes. 4

“You have a dream of a figure,” the plump blonde teenager cooed in envy. “What I wouldn’t give for a figure like yours. What do live on rice cakes and water?”5

Sandy smiled. The blonde would always be a bit on the over-weight side, she decided and lied, “Just watch the fast foods.” Not admitting they were her own mainstay. Her genes not her diet protected the five foot three, one hundred and twenty pound body from her dietary abuse.6

Finally settling on a midnight green with hot-pink splashes of color in a thong style bikini, she posed, swaying this way and that in front of the floor length mirror. Oh yes, she thought, Detective Sergeant Joe Farley, would see more than a collage brat when she paraded around Neil’s boat in this number. She cupped her breasts with her palms and pushed them up.7

“We can improve that,” the salesgirl offered. Scurrying across the room she quickly returned with two foam covered plastic inserts. She worked them into the bra and Sandy’s breasts rose higher developing a deeper cleavage. 8

“Aha perfect.” She contemplated how much cash she had on hand before calculating the tip she’d covertly slip the salesgirl.9

Sandy spent her final hour before work refreshing her tan at the salon so it would sparkle in tomorrow’s sunlight. The whole time her nails were being perfected, her hair styled to look like it hadn’t been touched, Sandy silently prayed for a beautiful morning. 10

God, don’t let it rain. Don’t let it be cold—June could be such a funky month you never knew what to expect. Maybe that’s why I’m such a finicky broad. Twenty-six next week and still not married. She grinned at the thought of her parents’ forthcoming birthday call. Her mum’s thick Georgia accent reminding her that ‘Gal don’t marry up by the time she’s thirty—ain’t likely gonna find her a good man.’11

Her pop’s reassurance, ‘don’t my babygirl go listenin’ta no old lady. Plenty’s the time yah got.’12

It wasn’t as if life had shortchanged her, relationships hadn’t been difficult to come by they just always seemed to be lacking. 13

Sandy frowned, ran her fingers through the freshly cut hair and glanced up at large barroom clock. Her shift would be over soon. Her thoughts lingered pleasantly on the memory of the bathing suit and the admiration in the salesgirl’s voice. Yes, she let her breath trickle out slowly between even white teeth; scarcity of admirers wasn’t the problem, attracting the right one was. 14

Joe Farley came into her life two years ago when she entered Mallory’s. Fresh off the train from a minuet bit of real-state twenty miles outside of Atlanta, Georgia, Sandy, terrified like any small town girl in a big city, clutched her handbag with knuckle white fingers. The change from sun clashing against the glass and concrete of the outside world into the cool gloominess of the pub nearly blinded her wide opened eyes and she stumbled into another body. The man laughed, set his beer back on the bar and held the girl while she regained her balance. 15

“Sorry” came the embarrassed stammer.16

“My lucky day,” the man said. “You could have been a three hundred pound heavy. Here have a seat. Take my beer, Matt just poured it and you look like you could use it.”17

Lucky day was right, lucky for Sandra May Hart. That afternoon proved to be surreal. Joe Farley; in fact the whole bunch at Mallory’s adopted the little Georgia waif. Before night fell Sandy had a temporary job, safe lodgings and male friends who didn’t give the impression they were out to make her.18

Joe never did more than tease, was always available for a shoulder to cry on or help with a problem. Even then Joe’s marriage apparently had been in trouble, but he wouldn’t put the moves on Sandy nor react to her come-ons except in a playful way. 19

Tomorrow if Joe doesn't notice I'm an adult woman, then he is blind, she noted to herself. She just had to make a dent in Joe's protective suit of armor.20

A threatening shower held off all night then spilled over a little before dawn. It didn’t last long but as the sun came up the city still glistened with moisture.21

The dark sedan, which came early and remained in the parking lot while the two men inside watched the next crew arriving at the Crises Center, could have had a bubble light on the roof. Not one person who walked by it on the way into the center was in doubt of the unmarked status of the police car.22

Those coming on duty would immediately spread the word, ‘The cops are back’ and that was exactly what the officers needed.23

The detectives were not interested in remaining anonymous; instead they wanted the volunteers who worked the Crises line phones to be apprehensive and a bit nervous.24

A thirtyish something male, with an unusually smooth complexion, black hair that folded on his ears with a few disheveled curls lazing on his forehead, looked up at the clock, and sighed to the female in the adjoining cubicle. “Seven am Kelsey. The shift ‘s almost over. Maybe we can beat the cops out of here. I got things need doing.”25

“You and me both Dale,” Kelsey groaned. The gossip making its way rapidly from mouth to mouth wasn’t appealing to child-sized young lady. Kelsey was obviously nervous. Past experiences with police had been traumatic. Memories of jail and the mental institution became vivid with the mention of the legal presence outside. Her narrow blue eyes clearly showed anxiety. 26

Dale appeared disinterested, as Kelsey rubbed her neck and spoke quietly, a fear like quality beneath her tone, “They’re here,” she said. “I wonder what they want?”27

Under the large wall clock was the entrance to the Crisis Center. Coming through the swinging doors were two men in oxford-cut shirts and dark slacks, in reverence to the steamy June morning they’d discarded suit coats. On their belts were automatics and handcuffs. Their badges hung around their necks.28

“Beats me,” replied Dale. “I don’t give a shit. I’m out of here at seven thirty unless they arrest me.” He let out a nasty snicker. He finished signing his last report. Already his monitor blinked ‘Hibernating’ in anticipation of ignoring any incoming calls for the final half hour.29

The two officers were showing IDs and stating their mission to Sally Goddard the night supervisor. The middle-aged woman’s cheeks brightened and she gushed with her sudden rise to prominence. “Is there some kind of problem?” She raised her tone loud enough for the volunteers to hear her.30

“We hope not,” said the older of the two men who had just introduced himself as Detective Hayes. 31

“No problem, per say,” said the twentyish fellow flashing the badge of Detective Hamlin, and an extremely engaging smile. “We'd like to ask your night staff a few questions?”32

“Oh, of course we’d love to help, if there’s something I can…”33

Sherry’s eagerness to know all was brought to an abrupt halt as Hamlin moved away and Hayes said, “We’ll just mosey around a few minutes. Like to get an idea on how this operation functions. We’ll call you if we need something.”34

Hamlin, stepping quickly to the farthest cubicles, came up behind Kelsey. His glance fell on Dale’s dark screen next door. “We were told the shift ended at seven thirty?” He let his hands drop on the back of Kelsey’s chair. Kelsey jumped up like the touch electrified her seat. Her wispy thin hair brushed the officer’s arm and she choked back a scream surprising him.35

“Sorry,” Hamlin snapped. “Didn’t mean to shock you.” 36

“Relax,” said Dale, as if trying to reassure Kelsey. “I'm sure this is just routine. I took the last call.” A grin crept up the edge of his mouth as his eyes took in the younger man. “So I get to close out first. Got paper work to do so we begin shutting down at seven.”37

“So nobody better need help between seven and seven thirty?”38

“We take turns, the phones go down one after another until the new crew begins picking up the calls. They are never all off at any one time. Kelsey is the last one on this morning.” 39

Just then the screen lit up and the receiver buzzed. Kelsey’s hand shook noticeable as she started to reach as the monitor flashed the information and Dale slide around and grabbed the receiver. “Let me,” he said. Kelsey slipped out of the cubical as Dale parked in her chair, “Hi Reese, name’s Dale, and believe me pal I’ve been where you are…” 40

Kelsey started towards the ladies room, but was confronted by Hayes. The older detective had witnessed the scene with his partner. He deliberately paused to question another volunteer. He broke that off when Kelsey came across the room and stepped quickly to intercept her. “Miss Purcell,” he said and gently touched her shoulder. “Could we talk a minute?” He held several files in his free hand—the one with her name on top. “Have a seat here.” He motioned to the lounge area.41

“I don’t know what you want? What you’re looking for?” Kelsey’s blue eyes grew larger and brighter in her acme-pitted face. The wretched scar that traveled from her forehead down her left cheek took on a life of its own wiggling up and down like a worm. Her breathing became rapid and she looked as though she might faint.42

Preparing himself to catch her if she managed to collapse, Hayes steadied the woman by gripping her left elbow until he could ease her into a seat. “Can I get you some water?”43

“No, no, I’m fine.”44

“Good. I apologize if our visit has upset you.” He flipped through the file and remarked, “I guess I can see why it might.” The compassion left his voice and the tone hardened. “You have quite a history. Possession with intent to sell, busted twice. Attempted suicides.”45

“Because of the drugs. I wouldn’t have otherwise.”46

“ How long have you been clean?”47

“Four years,” Kelsey answered. “For three years I’ve been working the evening shift at North Manhattan Pet hospital. Animals don’t mind my face.” Her voice became stronger as she went on. “My nights off I volunteer here. You don’t scare me—I just hate cops.”48

Since there was nothing quiet in her pronouncement, Dale grinned openly at Hamlin who frowned. Dale had finished with the call, deemed the subject simply depressed, outlined some means to deal with the depression and set up an appointment with a live group, which could benefit him.49

As he hung up, Hamlin said to him, “You handled that like a pro. How long have you been volunteering on the Crisis Line?”50

“Almost a year.”51

“What may I ask is your motivation?”52

“People. Unless you’ve been there, you can’t fathom how desperate a human can become. Although I nearly ended it all myself, I no longer believe that there are any problems, which justify suicide. I live well now, so it gives me a feeling of worth to help others.”53

“You don’t have a job. What is your source of income?”54

“Generous Grandparents and several sound investments.”55

“You don't strike me as the usual sort to volunteer in a rather menial position.” Hamlin looked up to see his partner strolling towards them.56

“ It’s our understanding that you fielded several calls from desperate young ladies where the calls came through the radio station hookup?” said Hayes. Satisfied that he wasn’t getting anything out of Kelsey, he decided to double team Dale Carter. 57

“Maybe you remember one in particular—her name was Michelle?” Hamlin asked. “It was a recent call. Your notes said that you didn't think she was serious about her threat to commit suicide. However the body we found the next morning was hers.”58

“So you matched the address. Oh hell, I could have been wrong.” Dale pumped his fist in exasperation. “You got any idea how many calls we get from people swearing they’re ready to take their own life. This is the first time I've heard of a person who actually did. Are you sure?”59

“Had you ever spoken with her before?” Hayes asked.60

“No, not that I recall. She could’ve made earlier calls and another volunteer fielded them.”61

“What reason did she give you for suicide?” Hamlin asked.62

“I don’t remember.” Dale leaned back and rolled his head. “I barely remember her…I’m still trying to place the call.”63

Hamlin leaned in, almost as if he desired his next words to be confidential. “Then you can’t tell us if Michelle was afraid of anyone?”64

“Afraid?” Dale shifted a hard stare from one officer to the other, “You’re not suggesting?” He whispered the final word, “Murder?”65