Secret Radio Murders - Chapter 28

by Geri Fitzsimmons & Andy Stephenson1

This morning, Joe Farley was at his desk by six so that when Brad Benson entered a few minutes before seven, he’d already confirmed the information on Renee Weinberg’s death, made a phone call to Deputy Chief Carbonetti, and been assured a trip to One Police Plaza would provide them with authority to takeover the Bronx case. 2

Farley didn’t give Benson an opportunity to question his decision, only grabbed his own jacket from a wall hook and preceded his partner out the door with the promise, “I’ll explain as we drive.”3

Farley headed quickly to driver’s side of the unmarked black Impala. “I’ll drive,” he declared.4

“So we’ll get there a week from Sunday.” Benson’s remark didn’t warrant a retort as he slipped into the passenger seat.5

Farley pointed to the folder he’d dropped on the seat between them. “The Bronx could have a murder that mimics Pamela Murray’s. It looks like the young lady was killed Saturday—her body wasn’t discovered until yesterday morning. The crime scene will still be fairly fresh.” 6

“And? We aren’t a taskforce yet?”7

“Carbonetti wants us to eyeball it. If it looks promising, we get to include it with our case load.”8

Benson retrieved the folder and was quickly absorbed in the particulars of both the Weinberg and the Murray cases; then in Neil Harris’s personality profile of their killer. After a time he remarked, “When you document the kills and draw parallels like this it does form a pattern. A Goal Oriented Serial Killer.” Benson let out a deep groan. “It is his desire to rid New York of pretty brunette ladies? I don’t think I like that idea. My wife is one.”9

“He sees them as a plague,” Farley answered. “But I think besides their looks and the fact they live alone, there is something else that triggers his rage.”10

“Well—not a single one is a native New York City girl.”11

“That’s a point. Could have something to do with it.”12

The conversation continued even after they arrived at 1PP and were forced to wait nearly an hour for the authorization that Farley had been assured was already waiting.13

That of course made them late for their appointment to meet the Bronx detectives at the Weinberg apartment. Though the men didn’t express it in so many words they gave the impression they had better things to do than wait for the two Manhattan Detectives. 14

“It’s always a treat to watch paint dry,” said the short dark man who didn’t top 140 after a full meal.15

“You ever try to hurry up 1PP?” Farley attempted to hide his instant dislike for Detective Sebastian.16

Benson never felt the need for such niceties. “Stuff the attitude. You think we’d be here if we didn’t have too.” He brushed past the younger fellow and stayed on the heels of the older gray-haired Hendricks to whom he offered condolences. “Stuck with him all day would give me an ulcer.” Benson and Hendricks had some positive past history. 17

A twenty-year veteran, Hendricks barely cracked a smile. 18

“A neat young lady,” was the first thing Joe Farley noticed as they entered Renee’s apartment. Except for the bloody splashes and splatter stains of blood, and the chalked lines designating certain areas, nothing seemed out of order. “I’m going to check out the kitchen,” he said.19

Benson had already moved in with his camera on the chalk drawn victim, and the floor and walls that proclaimed her fate. 20

Farley stepped into the kitchen and caught sight of the half full carafe sitting on the coffee machine. He pulled on plastic gloves, glanced in the sink, then opened the dishwasher and found it also empty. Behind the glass door of a cupboard he spotted four matching mugs. Removing several evidence bags he’d shoved in his pocket earlier, he carefully placed the mugs into one and labeled it.21

Opening the refrigerator, he removed a small creamer and set in on the counter beside its companion sugar bowl. He emptied the contents of both in the sink and placed those also in an evidence bag.22

He caught sight of a small mark under the stove. He used a tissue to capture it and bagged it.23

Returning to the living room, he placed the bags on the coffee table. Inspired by the curious frowns of the Bronx detectives he offered, “Either Miss Weinberg only made a half a pot of coffee, or someone drank some.”24

“There were no used cups,” Sebastian said.25

“Maybe we have a neat freak?” Farley answered. “Was this window opened?” He stepped towards it.26

“No.” Henderson admitted. “The manager asked us to open it when we were done. I couldn’t see a problem.”27

“How about the weathervane?” Benson joined his partner. “Was it broken?”28

“Broken?” 29

“The little Dutch doll is missing.” He glanced down at the floor as if expecting to find it lying there.30

“Didn’t know it was suppose to have one.” Sebastian frowned.31

Benson grinned a ‘gotcha’ grin as he admitted, “I only knew because my wife’s got one and the cheap thing is always falling off.”32

Farley suddenly remembered Michelle Baine’s cheap Coo coo clock. He took the weathervane from its wall hook and slipped it into an evidence bag. 33

“I’ll check the bedroom,” Benson said.34

“Nothing there,” Sebastian snapped. “The sheets were already in a laundry bag and forensic has them. No body fluids. The lady wasn’t raped—at least not in the conventional sense.” 35

“You know about everything we know. “ Henderson lifted his broad shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “The Medical Examiner has only had the body and info one day. In fact that’s where we were headed when we got called to come here. ”36

“Suppose you can find your way there alone.” Sebastian didn’t wait for an answer only shoved out the apartment door letting it close behind him.37

“What’s up with him?”38

“The boy’s looking to jump tall hurdles in a hurry. High profile case, name in the news, you fellows just shortened the rods.” He laughed sharply. 39

40

At PD66 another young man, with bottle-thick glasses and unruly ash blonde hair was so absorbed in his labor; he never realized how scratchy his throat had become. It was air-conditioner dry in the detective’s section of precinct 66, but when Cody Vaughn started a search that drew his interest nothing else seemed important.41

Born into the age of computer chips, he’d developed an early addiction. In a field where many older detectives relied on the computer expertise of younger colleagues, Cody quickly became a recognized asset. So not only did he spend most of his workday but every hour he could squeeze in at home in front of a monitor with his finger flying across the keys. 42

Cody began apartment hunting one day after he graduated from the Police Academy-- that was five years ago. Things were just too comfortable for a pampered only son at home so he was still hunting. He rarely bothered to do much more than check the rental ads in the Times—still he would say, “Christ there’s nothing out there I can afford—unless I want a two hour commute.”43

When Cody had finally logged off PD66’s computer on Monday, he went directly home, consumed two helpings of his Mom’s beef stew that he finished with a Coke in his room as he logged on to his PC and inserted a flash drive, with all the information on his active cases, that he always carried. He finally logged off after midnight. By then he’d collected sufficient new information so that when he logged on to the PD66’s computer Tuesday morning, he knew what he was after. 44

Online pharmacies; medicines dispensed without personal contact. There were a multitude of online pharmacies so he eliminated those companies, which did not as yet sell Norvasc. Using police codes and reminders of the consequences from the results of failure to comply, he convinced the executives of the majority of these companies to open their files and fax copies of scripts to him.45

He made a personal note of those companies who refused to do so without a court order. If he ever wanted to order drugs, he grinned, he’d be certain to use their service.46

Taking into consideration the newness of the drug, and the fact that a lot of doctors would have been supplying samples to their patients before a set regiment was decided, Cody concentrated on the sales to New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania customers in past three months. As the mechanical brain toiled away completing its tasks lists developed; lists of physicians with office locations who signed the scripts, lists of customers with their address who received the drug.47

It quickly became evident that shipments of patients’ supplies of 90 to 120 days were not unusual—in fact they were the norm. The more easily controllable monthly drug supply from a local pharmacy appeared to be time consuming as well as more expensive. Cody called up the information on the side effects of the drug. He went into Medical Research locations and found some surprising results that could be obtained by overdosing with prescription drugs.48

Young Cody grew antsy, he wanted to share his knowledge with Benson, maybe even impress Farley. ‘Impress Farley’ the idea of actually making an impact on the case, let alone the older dude, made him laugh beneath his breath.49

50

51

Across town the laughter of a woman invaded a man’s ears. It was too loud and coarse. When had the sound of her become coarse, he wondered. Perhaps it was just that he was becoming totally bored with her attempts to arouse him.52

She worked her lips through the light sprinkling of hair on his chest. Rolled his nipples around with her tongue, then nibbled gently on them. Closing her hands tenderly around his testicles, she massaged them causing a deep moan. 53

He was still semi-soft and at half-mast, when he ran his fingers through her chestnut hair; then his palms dropped on her shoulders and he pushed her down to her knees. He thrust himself at her, saying nothing but allowing an intense jerking of his lower body to force his penis between her parted lips. It always excited him to admire his growth as he filled a woman’s mouth.54

She continued sucking his dick and squeezing his balls but it wasn’t happening. It just wasn’t happening for him. The dark hair slapping against his belly turned him off… he was softening and a sudden disgust caused his face to flush. His hands left her shoulders and slipped into her armpits. He lifted her easily and drew her to her feet. “My turn now,” he said and urged her towards the king-size bed. He shoved her backwards.55

She giggled as she bounced on the mattress. “Easy, easy, I might break!”56

So small, so fragile, so weak, he thought. He crawled full-body on top of her. His mouth found hers nearly suffocating her with deep kisses. As their tongues danced together, he roughly caressed her breasts, pinching her firm nipples. He had her legs pinned open, and he rose up straddling her. His hands encircled her neck while the thumbs pressed down on her windpipe. How easily he could stop that silly giggling, he thought and nearly laughed out loud as he rammed his penis inside her. 57

Soon she was squirming beneath him and groaning. “Oh God! Oh good God! Damn!” she exclaimed as one orgasm was quickly followed by another.
“Oh God, you are good today.” 58

“Only the best for my lady,” he whispered as his fingers tightened on her throat.