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Chapter One War Stories

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE

 

MEDUSA

 

FILE

 

by

 

Robert F. Clifton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Medusa File

Copyright 2015 by Robert F. Clifton

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be

reproduced in any form or by any means without

written permission from the author.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedicated To The Memory Of

 

Ellsworth R. Long

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The reader is advised that this book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to names of characters, places and/or events is purely coincidental.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Retired Police Captain, Robert Wallace is visited by his godson, Kevin McKenna. As they both sit on the back porch talking on a summers day the conversation naturally turns to police work. Wallace reveals the one, most difficult case of homicide that he investigated. He called it “The Medusa File”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Table of Contents

 

Chapter One.....War Stories

Chapter Two..... The Cinderella Hypothesis

Chapter Three...The Devil's Breath

Chapter Four.....Teeny

Chapter Five......The Dolphin Motel

Chapter Six........Telephone Calls

Chapter Seven....N.C.I.C.

Chapter Eight.....Twana

Chapter Nine...... A Lasting Impression

Chapter Ten....... A Girl Named Pat

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

War Stories

 

Robert Wallace leaned to his right reaching for the cold glass of ice tea that Mary had put on the table next to him. He picked up the glass, took a long drink and returned it. Then, out of habit he glanced at his wristwatch. He didn't know why he wanted to know the time. He wasn't going anywhere and at eleven o'clock on a Sunday morning there was nothing on television but, yesterdays news and church services.

Even though it was a nice September day, with the sun shining in a cloudless sky and a cool breeze coming in off of the ocean Wallace was uncomfortable. He was always uncomfortable since he was reduced to getting around in a wheelchair. Chronic diabetes over the years had caused neuropathy to slowly destroy the nerves necessary for mobility. For a man who once played football, and hiked the forest trails for miles being confined was demoralizing. At the same time he was embarrassed when old friends dropped in to see him. Often when aware of they're planned arrival he would have Mary Wallace help him into a living room chair where he sat there and in his mind appeared healthy and happy.

This day was different. His visitor today would be his godson, Kevin McKenna. Wallace considered the young police detective to be not only the son of a friend, but family. As a result there was no need to pretend. Family and close friends were aware of Robert Wallace and his health problems. Mary Wagner Wallace had told those people close to them about his return from Australia and his condition. At the same time it was Mary, his ex-wife who insisted that he live again with her so she could take care of him. He resisted at first, but finally gave in after taking the advice of Sharon Edwards, the wife of his best friend.

So, he boarded a plane in Perth, flew to Hawaii then to Los Angeles and finally to Philadelphia where he was met by Mary. That was two months ago and in those two months Mary Wagner Wallace tested his blood for glucose four times a day, created the meals he ate, administered the drugs he took each morning and injected the three kinds of insulin required each and everyday. And, Robert Wallace sat confined to a wheelchair despondent, yet grateful for the love and care displayed by a woman who once was his wife.

At eleven twenty seven that morning Wallace heard the front door bell ring, then the quick steps of Mary walking to the door. Next came the masculine voice of Kevin. “Hello, Aunt Mary”. “Hello Kevin. How good to see you. How have you been?”, asked Mary.

“Fine. I hope I'm not too early”.

“Of course not. Uncle Bob is on the porch. Go see him and while you two talk I'll make lunch”.

“Thank you”, answered Kevin as he walked towards the sliding glass doors leading to the rear, screened in porch. The doors were open as when he walked through the entrance he saw his godfather sitting in the wheelchair waiting for him. “Kevin, how good to see you son, come have a seat and tell me what you've been doing”.

Kevin McKenna took a seat in a cushioned chair and said, “Not too much Uncle Bob. Things are a bit slow, which is good”.

“True, true. How's Carol?”, asked Wallace.

“Captain Myers? She's good. She gets a little testy at times, other than that she a great commander”.

“Glad to hear it. I remember the heat I took when I put her on my squad. No one wanted to work with a woman. We had a couple of homicides in Garwood village.. One victim was Amanda Kinshoffer. The killer sliced her pretty bad. I remember Carol puking her guts out, but she hung in there. Later, the killer, Lionel Horton took a hostage in Garwood Village. The son of a bitch shot me twice. Once in the abdomen and once in the left hip. Carol shot and killed the bastard. There was no questioning her being on the Major Crime Squad after that. I still get a pain in the hip once and a while, especially on cold damp days. Funny, now that I think of it I always thought that your father and Myers would hook up and marry. They never did. Tom Mckenna married Molly, your mother and Carol? Well Carol has yet to tie the knot so to speak”.

“Speaking of marriage, it's none of my business Uncle Bob, but I know that aunt Mary would love to marry you again”, said Kevin.

“For what?” This house is her house. It was when we married and `it was hers when we divorced. I'm leaving everything I own, the condo building, life insurance, my pension, all go to her when I croak. So what else can I give her? My name? She kept that then the divorce was final.”

“Speaking of the condo's. Do you want me to move out?”

“Hell no. Stay as long as you want”.

“At least let me pay rent”.

“No way. Enough about that. What I want you to do is be careful out there”.

“I am Uncle Bob”.

“I don't mean be careful protecting yourself. I mean be careful in you actions, your decision making. Right now it seems that there are a few assholes in law enforcement that think they can be judge, jury and executioner. Every time I turn around it's some cop shooting and killing a citizen or beating the hell out of someone. Where are they getting these goons? Where is the training? I think its about young recruits watching and believing what they see on television shows and games. That, and listening to the bullshit some guy in the ranks that thinks he knows all the answers. Anyway, listen to me. Think, think quick and think right, then if you must, act. Now, I'll step off of the soapbox. What have you been doing?”

“As you know when there are no active cases we go back the cold case files. One of the reasons I'm here is I came across an unsolved case of yours. You labeled it, “The Medusa File”

“Ah, that one. Yeah, that was a long time ago. I'm certain that the suspect, Edward Dawson is or was the killer”.

“Why do you refer to him as Medusa?”, asked Kevin.

“I don't. Edward owned and operated a boarding house in the inlet district of town on Albatross Lane. If you are familiar with Greek mythology, Medusa was so hideous that those that looked upon her turned to stone. Three of Dawson's victims died from strychnine poison. Keep in mind that from ten to twenty minutes after being exposed the body's muscles begin to spasm starting with the head and neck in the form of trismus or risus sardonicus. Trismus you will know as lockjaw, sardonicus Risus. Lockjaw, sardonicus Sardonicus is a sustained spasm that induces a forced grin,lockjaw, sardonicus. The spasms then spread throughout the body affecting every muscle accompanied with continuous convulsions. As the convulsions continue the spine begins to arch. Death usually occurs when asphyxiation caused by the constricting airways is complete. It's a hell of a way to die. But, to answer your question about naming the case, The Medusa File. I did that because of the hideous painful grin the victims had on their face. A look as if they had gazed upon the face of Medusa”.

“You know that my next question is, why didn't you arrest him?”, asked Kevin.

“Because the investigation got screwed up”.

“How?”

“You have to remember that I had just been transferred from uniform patrol to detective. When the bodies started to show up I was assigned to the Major Crime Squad. At that time the commander of the unit was Captain John Eppinger He was a nice guy, but dumber then cat shit. He and his kind joined the police department before civil service. In his day Nautilus Beach was run by corrupt politicians. A guy could join the police department and after a couple of years pay five hundred dollars to the political organization and the next day he was promoted to sergeant. Then allowing two or three years to go by, another donation, this time for a thousand dollars and the guy was promoted to lieutenant. In short, even though Eppinger was a nice guy he was still not qualified to command. He sure as hell was not experienced in homicide investigations, but unfortunately, he was the boss and as so agreed or disagreed with the findings and made all decisions.”

“O.K. I understand that, but how did the investigation get screwed up.

“Remember, I told you that three of Edward Dawson's victims died from strychnine poisoning. There was another killing, this time a stabbing and as a matter of fact in my opinion this is where the investigation went into the shit house”.

“I'm listening”.

“Captain Eppinger and I were the first investigators to enter the bedroom which in fact was a room the victim rented from Edward. The room was small, containing a single, twin bed, chest of drawers and as I recall one, old and worn overstuffed chair. On top of the chest of drawers was a hot plate still plugged in but not operating. The heating element was cold.

The victim, later identified as Michael Winters was laying face down on a blood soaked gray rug. He was nude. The first thing I noticed was a stab wound located just under his left shoulder. The second thing I observed was several star-shaped blood stains on his bare back.”.

“Meaning what?”, asked Kevin.

“Meaning that while Mr. Winters lay dying or dead someone, someone bleeding profusely stood over him. As that person bled, drops of their blood fell down upon Winters back thus creating the star shaped stain. In my opinion the person standing over Winters was bleeding from the nose”.

“And, I take it Captain Eppinger disagreed”.

“His opinion was that because there was a stab wound in the shoulder ,Winters arched his back in pain and it was his blood that I found on the back”.

“Impossible! If that were the case Winters Blood would have dropped to the floor on the rug”.

“Exactly. I wanted CSI to take scrapings of the star-shaped blood stains,, figuring at least we could determine a blood type, if nothing else”.

“Let me guess. They didn't”

“Correct. Captain Eppinger insisted that his theory was the correct one and other evidence was needed”.

“And, did he find any?”

“No, I did. I walked over to the single bed. When I looked down I saw a man's wristwatch with a broken leather band. Along side of the watch and band was the pin that holds the watchband to the watch. To me this indicated a struggle. In that struggle the watchband was pulled loose from the watch itself and landed on the bed. To me, during the struggle, Winters resisted, possibly punching his attacker in the face. That punch injured his

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