The Body at Midgley Bridge

by Charles Williamson

  As they walked back to their apartment, Margaret asked Mike about his day with Captain Granger. “He had a lucky break. There was an assault and rape in an affluent nearby town. One of the palaces of the French kings is located at Fontainebleau and the rape was on its grounds. The victim gave us a good description, and Victor made the arrest within three and a half hours of the crime. The unfortunate girl was the daughter of an important government official out for a morning jog. Victor was thrilled to apprehend the assailant so quickly; it will really please his boss. He invited me to join him again in the morning. It would be nice if we could invite Victor and his wife to dinner sometime this week.”

  “Of course. I’d enjoy meeting them. Text me if tomorrow evening will work for them. If they accept, I can make enough for all of us to enjoy the leftovers. We’re working on soups and stews tomorrow, and a stew would reheat very well. We can get other things to go with dinner on our way back from my class.”

  The following evening at seven, Margaret was busy in the kitchen reheating the beef bourguignon she had prepared at class under the close eye of one of Paris’s best-known chefs. Her instructor had paid careful attention to her preparation when he learned she would be serving it to a French couple. He gladly provided enough ingredients for tonight’s dinner. The famous chef wanted her French guests to be impressed by the American cook he was teaching. The stew was reheating while Margaret made a simple Concombre a la Menthe, a salad of cucumbers and mint in yogurt dressing garnished with sliced radish. She had Potatoes Dauphinoise in the oven and a tray of cheeses and dried meats ready to serve as appetizers. They had purchased a Paris Brest cake at a nearby bakery for dessert.

  Two hours later, Mike was smiling because the evening was going great. Victor’s wife, Camille, worked for an American-based bank, and her English was perfect. She and Margaret hit it off immediately since Margaret had worked at banks her whole career. Mike and Victor swapped stories of their backgrounds and had a good time talking about past cases. After dinner Margaret showed Camille dozens of photos on her iPad taken in Sedona on their hikes, as well as family photos of Jim, Sue and the twins on their Christmas visit to Sedona. The French couple was impressed with the look of Sedona, and Mike invited them to stay at their house if they ever came to Arizona.

  Camille and Victor bragged about this being the outstanding meal of the year, and Mike thought they were right. Margaret had made beef bourguignon in Sedona, but this time it was far better. The whole meal was perfect. It was when they were enjoying coffee and the Paris Brest cake in the living room that Mike got a call from Sheriff Taylor. He assumed it was bad news.

  “Excuse me for a second. This is a call from my boss.” Mike went into the bedroom to take the call.

  “Hello sheriff. Is there a problem?”

  “Damn right there is. Sheriff Rodney over in Greenlee County was shot through the forehead from long range with a high caliber round. It’s the Park Sniper’s MO exactly.”

  “I’ll catch the next flight home.”

  “I knew you’d say that, but that is the last thing I want. You would give us one more person that we need to protect. Sheriff Duncan and I will have layers of protection, but you’ll save us the need for an additional protective detail for you if you stay put. I’ll be using the van we use for prisoner transport. It has bullet resistant glass, and I’ll ride in the windowless back section. I can get in it in the basement of our building and exit in my own garage. We have only one of those vehicles. It doesn’t make sense to try and cover both my home in Flagstaff and your home down in Sedona. Stay in France! The Park Sniper has no idea where you are. It’s never been public information.”

  “But sheriff …”

  Before Mike could finish the sentence, Sheriff Taylor said. “That is a direct order, Captain. I will keep you informed. Don’t come home.”

  He hung up.

  Back in the living room, Mike’s expression gave away his concern. Margaret asked, “Park Sniper?”

  Mike nodded. He had discussed the case with Victor, but he gave a brief explanation to Camille. The world over, the killing of a law enforcement officer was a major crime, and although she was not sure what a sheriff was, she immediately understood Mike’s concern.

  Victor said, “It’s not just your reaction to the loss of a fellow officer, even if he was a friend. There is more to it.”

  Mike nodded, “An FBI profiler predicted that the Park Sniper would come after the four men who participated in a press conference that displayed his photo and forced him to lay low and change his appearance. Those four were Sheriff Rodney, who was just killed, Sheriff Duncan of Mohave County, my boss Sheriff Taylor of Coconino County, and myself. Sheriff Taylor ordered me to stay out of the country until they make progress on the case. He didn’t want me back in Arizona where I would need round-the-clock protection like he’s now receiving. In a rural county, we simply don’t have the resources to cover two people in enough depth to protect them from a sniper who has hit the center of a forehead from over a kilometer away.”

  Victor looked concerned. “If you are threatened here, I can assign someone.”

  “Thank you but he has no way of knowing that we’re in Paris. I’m not in any danger here.” Mike was fairly sure he wasn’t in danger here, but they needed to return home after their vacation.

  Victor nodded. “I suspect it would take a whole taskforce like your secret service uses to protect your president merely to keep someone safe from such a sniper. When President Trump last visited Paris, it was the strongest protective force I’ve ever seen. They had twenty men on rooftops and used an armored limousine. I agree that the secret of your location is your best protection. I suggest that you should be careful of posting on Facebook or other media that might give away your location.”

  Margaret looked a little surprised. “I’ve been posting photos of the food I make in class and the sights of Paris. It’s obvious on Facebook that we’re in Paris, probably even obvious what part of town since I posted photos from the Rodin Museum saying it was near our apartment.”

  “Then I suggest you change your account to only be accessible to close friends and family. Thank you for the outstanding meal. We both have work tomorrow so we best go home.” Victor stood and Camille followed a little surprised at his abrupt departure.

  Victor said, “You may want to discuss things without company. Mike, please contact me anytime. You have my personal cell number.”

  Chapter 22

  After their dinner guests left, Mike and Margaret sat in the living room of their rented Paris Apartment. The brightly lit Eiffel Tower was visible through the picture window. They were determined not to let the actions in Arizona ruin their long-planned vacation. They wanted to make Jenny and Lisa’s first visit to Paris a vacation they would remember for the rest of their lives.

  Margaret sounded determined. “Mike, honey, if we do commit not to let the manhunt in Arizona ruin our vacation, I don’t want you calling for updates every hour. I’m sure the FBI will be back in Arizona in force. Catching the sniper will be much easier when they know he’s probably after only two targets. The manhunt was almost impossible when his victims were random and when he traveled all the time.”

  Mike was not prepared to disagree when Margaret took that tone. He smiled, “I hate that Sheriffs Taylor and Duncan are bait, but you’re absolutely correct. Having only two major targets will probably be our best chance ever to apprehend the Park Sniper. I promise not to call Sheriff Taylor daily. He said he’d keep me informed, and I believe he will call if there is any real progress on the case.” What he didn’t say was that there were other people besides Sheriff Taylor who might keep him informed.

  When John, Sue, and the twins arrived the following Saturday, things really got busy. Sightseeing with precocious twins, who were almost eight was exhausting, for Mike, Margaret, and their parents. The girls were determined to see everything. They went to the Louvre four mornings in a row in order to see every section of the
enormous museum. They spent two afternoons in Musée d’Orsay enjoying the impressionist art. They also went to ten churches, including one twice. It was the family favorite because of the stained glass, Sainte Chapelle. Jenny and Lisa had guidebooks on their Kindle apps in their iPhones, and they seemed determined to see every sight mentioned in the book.

  Mike was so busy that he didn’t have much time to worry about the Park Sniper case, Although Sheriff Taylor had not called, most evenings, Mike had contact with either Bill Ponder in Mohave County or June Rosetta in Coconino County. They disclosed that the FBI had made a major effort. They’d been embarrassed by the public disclosure of their lack of success, and they now had more than fifty people in Arizona searching for the Park Sniper. The news made him feel better about both sheriffs’ safety.

  Ten days after the death of Sheriff Rodney, there had been no progress in finding the Park Sniper. Mike and Margaret were sitting in the living room of their rented Paris apartment having a glass of wine on a Sunday evening. They both had their shoes off and their feet on the coffee table. They were exhausted from the final weekend of sightseeing with John, Sue, and the twins. The family had left that afternoon, and Mike and Margaret were still recovering.

  Margaret said, “I love being a grandparent, but I’m too old to keep up with the twins full time.”

  “You got to relax in class for five days while I wore out my shoes while they were here. I had to buy this new pair when we went to Galeries Lafayette. We spent four hours in that damn department store.”

  “I know you hate shopping, but the twins love it. By the way, my classes are not exactly relaxing. We stand the whole time, but I admit you had the harder job sightseeing and shopping with the twins. I know you’ve been secretly keeping track of the investigation. Is there any news?”

  “They suspect the sniper was in Kingman a week ago. A man of his general build was seen carrying a rifle case. He was near the top of the hill that divides the two sections of town. They only got a general description. His head and beard had been shaved and he wore a red baseball cap with NRA on the front. That hill is directly above the neighborhood where Sheriff Duncan lives. The sheriff has been sleeping at the sheriff’s substation near downtown or at a friend’s currently vacant house across town. Sheriff Duncan is a widower, and his kids are grown, so no one has been staying at his own house since the murder of Sheriff Rodney. The sighting was at dawn as the man was jogging down from the hilltop. The FBI suspects he spent the night up there looking for his target.”

  “You’d think that hill was a place they’d certainly be watching. What good are fifty FBI agents if they don’t stake out obvious sniper locations.”

  “They did have someone nearby, but he never saw the man with the rifle case. The suspect must have arrived after dark and snuck past the agent as he climbed up to the hilltop. It was a morning jogger on a golf course who actually saw him. The description wasn’t great, and the man didn’t see his vehicle. I think our sniper is a well-trained military man with expertise in moving by stealth and the patience to wait all night for a shot.”

  “What’s Greg Taylor doing to lower his risk?”

  “I spoke with June Rosetta who helped set things up at his house. His wife is visiting her parents in Pennsylvania. Greg has been sleeping in the basement family room where they’ve completely blocked the small high windows. The FBI techs have set up a moving mannequin upstairs, hoping to draw a shot at the fake target. Cameras on the roof will immediately note where the shot came from at night, and sound sensors will pinpoint it during daylight. A team from the department and the FBI is ready to respond in seconds.”

  “That’s reassuring. They may catch him soon. What happened with the deputy in Greenlee County who can identify him?”

  “The county commissioners put him on a sixty day paid leave. He’s on an extended camping trip in New Mexico and Colorado with orders to stay out of Arizona.”

  Margaret nodded and commented, “We have only one week left here in Paris. You were told not to return home, but what are our plans? I have a job. The bank was very generous to let me have three weeks vacation at one time, but I can’t stay indefinitely. We also can’t afford spending more weeks in Europe. This is already our most expensive vacation ever.”

  “I’ll call Sheriff Taylor tomorrow and remind him we’re due home a week from today. I think we need to go home in any case, but I won’t disobey a direct order.”

  On Monday afternoon, as he waited for Margaret to get out of class at a café across the street, Mike called Sheriff Taylor.

  “Hi Mike, I hope you’re having a great time in Paris. I was going to call you later today with an update. At 4:30 yesterday afternoon, two hikers on the North Kaibab Trail below the North Rim of the Grand Canyon were killed by sniper shots from at least a kilometer away. One of the rounds was recovered at the scene; it was certainly the Park Sniper. The FBI has a dozen agents looking for information along the North Rim and the trails nearby, but so far, they have not found a single witness who saw or heard the shots. The attack was late in the afternoon, long after most hikers begin the cross-canyon or Phantom Ranch hikes. The young couple had backpacks and camping reservations at the Cottonwood Campground. A ranger headed to the Roaring Springs pumping station discovered the bodies.

  Mike was not surprised. Several weeks ago, Margaret had suggested that there was no way the sniper would leave Arizona for good without a homicide at the state’s most famous location. “Damn, another homicide in a National Park, I assume it’s public information. Surely, the Bureau wouldn’t try and keep it quiet after the fiasco related to their secrecy.”

  Sheriff Taylor explained, “It was the major story on all the local news stations this morning as well as the morning national news programs. At five thirty this morning, President Trump, using a tweet, fired Stacey McDowell, the agent in charge of the Park Sniper Task Force. He also mentioned that he might use the Arizona National Guard to keep our citizens safe from the sniper. Our president also suggested that evidence concerning a foreign accent suggested the killer might be an illegal immigrant.” Sheriff Taylor was an ardent Democrat. Mike was apolitical unless it impacted his work directly.

  Mike commented, “We don’t even know if the accent was real or merely an attempt to mimic Sebastian Gorka. I never met Agent McDowell, but surely she has some legal protection from arbitrary termination.”

  “I saw Agent McDowell this morning as she packed her personal belongings. They’re using our conference room again. She was headed for a new assignment in Bismarck.”

  “Thanks for the update. Are you still under round-the-clock protection?”

  “Yes, but it appears that the sniper has decided that Sheriff Duncan and I are difficult targets. He’s moved back to his original MO. As long as he is constantly on the move, we can’t set a trap for him. Mike, I know you plan to come home on Sunday, but it really would complicate the protection detail by splitting our resources. Our county budget is busted with all the overtime related to the sniper case, but last night the county commissioners approved a thirty-day paid leave for you. Stay the hell away from Sedona or Flagstaff. Maybe you and Margaret would enjoy a leisurely tour of the west coast or an extended visit with your family in New York. Please take the leave and don’t return to Sedona.”

  “I might be able to help,” Mike said.

  “I don’t want to make that a direct order unless I have to. Mike, stay away until we have made some progress.”

  “Yes sir.”

  A few minutes later, Margaret arrived at the café and they discussed his conversation with Sheriff Taylor. Margaret called her boss at the Sedona bank branch where she worked.

  After the conversation, Margaret explained, “My boss agreed to a one month leave of absence without pay. He said if it lasted longer, I needed to resign. We still have your LAPD retirement income and your salary from the sheriff’s department, but spending thirty more days away from home at two or three hundred dollars a day will de
vour our savings account, especially after three weeks in Paris.”

  Mike smiled. They had been careful with money all their lives, and they were unlikely to ever run out. They had sold their California house for more than enough to pay cash for their Sedona one. Their only son already made four times the best salary that Mike or Margaret had ever made; he wouldn’t need their help. “How about making it a fun once-in-a-lifetime trip up the coast from San Diego to Victoria British Columbia. We can rent a small RV and take our time driving along the coastal highway. It could be fun.”

  Margaret looked skeptical. “How about renting a car and staying in nice motels. A month in a small RV would drive me crazy. I need a nice bathroom and a comfortable bed.”

  “You’ve got a deal. I’ll try and change our return flight destination from Phoenix to San Diego.”

  “Does that mean there will be no chance to go home and get other clothing? I packed for Paris in the spring. I have nothing for the beach.”

  “Sheriff Taylor was very specific about not going near our house in Sedona, but we can ask Kay to pack up some things and ship them to us in San Diego. I’ll make a reservation at the motel on Pacific Beach where we stayed a few years ago. We can let her know where we’ll be staying for the first three days of our trip.”

  Margaret wasn’t certain that she wanted a friend to pack her things. She’d eaten too well in Paris and might need to try some things on before packing them. She didn’t argue the point at the time, but she thought that a quick stop by the Sedona house was necessary and would not be risky. How would the sniper even know if they were there for half an hour?

  Chapter 23

  Margaret’s final week of cooking school went by quickly. Mike continued to walk her to class each morning and meet her at the café across from the school each afternoon. Twice they’d been asked to dinner by neighbors in their apartment building. Mike had found the French extremely friendly and welcoming, especially after the twins arrived. They talked with everyone they saw in the building in their best grade school French.