Murder Mysteries #3
by Robert C. Waggoner
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2014 Robert C. Waggoner
Murder on the Sea Stack
Stacy Foreham Novella
An Eyewitness
Smiling Sam was beginning to think his being in the wrong place at the wrong time was becoming a truism. The first time was awhile back when he was fishing off the harbor jetty. What he thought was a nice fish on his hook turned out to be a human arm!
Now as he sat huddled on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean at one of the yearly, extremely rare low tides, he was peering through his spotting scope at the top of a giant sea stack. Much to his chagrin he was witnessing a murder in progress.
Just minutes before that, he was enjoying a rainbow of colors from countless starfish gathered around and among the black shell muscles that normally were always under the sea water. In his younger days, Sam was be afoot on the beach with his old trusty 35 mm Leica, shooting post card quality pictures of both still and sea life along the coast of Bandon by the Sea. In particular, the wonderfully giant sea stacks were most popular with names such as, Face Rock, Table Rock and other names of the many miles of stacks that ran south into California.
Now, Smiling Sam licked his lips seeing two people fighting near the edge of table rock. It was clearly evident they were fighting and it appeared the stronger of the two, the one doing the pushing, was winning the match when over the side went one of the two. It pin wheeled down about seventy feet to the sharp rocks that surrounded the stack. In Sam's opinion, there was no doubt the person was dead as it lie draped over a boulder the size of a car on its back.
Sam could see the one left standing on the stack was a male. His short hair was slightly blowing in the wind. After he gazed over the side of the stack, seeing his victim was dead, he looked up and even though it was perhaps a quarter mile between Sam and the murderer, Sam felt something tightening in his lower bowls being recognized as a witness.
The murderer ran to his right and dove off into the surf swimming south. Sam reached for his cell phone to call Stacy Foreham the small town's resident detective. While he waited he noticed the killer was a fast swimmer and when he rose up out of the surf, was equally a fast runner. Down the beach he went towards Devils Kitchen where a trail ran up the creek to a parking lot.
Flo Medders, dispatcher and secretary answered the phone professionally. "This is Sam, Flo. I just saw a man push another person off the top of Table Rock to the boulders below. I'm fairly sure that person is dead. The killer ran towards Devils Kitchen Flo. I'm at the motel cliff near 11 st. I'll wait here for someone to come. You'd best get the fire department on this quickly as the tide is coming in. Soon the tide will remove the body unless the volunteers hurry."
"I'm on it Sam. Stacy is standing right here and she'll be on her way soonest she calls Dan and James to try and catch the perp off of Beach Loop Road."
Sam tucked his cell inside his Gore-Tex coat. He started to pack up his things. He had had his fold up aluminum chair, back pack with hot coffee, snacks and a mystery book in case he got bored, with him. He put away his spotting scope and stand. Then he poured a cup of hot coffee as the tide coming in made the on shore wind a little stouter.
Sam kept his eyes on the dark body as it rested in its final place among the sea life that surrounded it. If Sam wasn't mistaken, as he recalled seeing long hair flying, the body was female. He stood up as he saw two firemen running down the beach. He smiled thinking how dedicated these guys really were. Then for some reason, he turned to look at the road to see if any police cars were coming yet. He saw the light colored hair of the killer point out the window with something. Sam dove for the ground as he first felt a sting in the leg and then heard the shot of a pistol. Sam crawled as two more shots were fired kicking up red cliff soil around him. It was then Sam heard the sound of a siren coming while seeing a dark car speed off east down 11 st. towards New Town.
From the north came Stacy in her SUV with lights flashing. She turned into the large parking lot where tourists stand on the cliff gazing at a wonderful beach dotted with Sea Stacks and the local jetty where charter boats come and go most of the year except dead of winter.
Stacy pulled up seeing Sam holding his leg with a look of pain on his face. At first she thought maybe he sprained an ankle but soon discovered he'd been shot in the calf. Stacy called for an ambulance from Coos Bay to pick a patient up that had been shot at the Bandon health clinic. "Damn Stacy, the guy almost got me. Here I am over 80 and thought I'd die from a heart attack not a bullet. This playing policeman is dangerous duty. Do you think I'll get a medal," he said jokingly while still occasionally grimacing.
"It looks like the bullet passed right through Sam. Tell me what the guy looked like and his transportation if you can remember while your life's blood mixes with the dirt of the bluff."
"He wore a diving suit from the waist up. Blonde medium length hair and I'd guess around 40 years old. He could run and swim like the wind Stacy. I've never seen such a fast runner. Anyway, he drove off in a dark car, but couldn't catch a license number as too far away. You know it's a 100 yards to the road and that's one hell of a shot for a pistol. He fired at least two more as I saw dirt fly not far away from me."
While they waited and after making Sam a little more comfortable with his leg up while laying on the ground, Stacy hurried to her radio to relay the information that the perp drove eastbound off 11 st towards New Town. "I'm at 101 now and no traffic in sight," said Patrolman Dan Fallows."
"I’m checking out Old Town. I've seen nothing unusual at this time," said Patrolman James Fletcher.
"Contact the sheriff's department in Coquille James and give the following description: White male, age around 40 with light blonde hair. Medium build and is armed and dangerous. Road blocks on highway 42 and 101 north and south of Port Orford. Call Gold Beach sheriff's department as well James. Dan call the state police issuing the same information."
When she put up her radio mike she called Detective Rory Caltex of the Oregon State Police. Any major crime such as murder is given to the state police. He answered on the second ring, "Tell me on this lovely mid morning that all you can think of is you and me sitting at the restaurant having an omelet."
"Sometimes I wish you were right Tall Man, but we've a murder at the sea stack to deal with first. Alert our resident coroner Marsha and load up Ben. Meet me at the jetty parking lot on the town side. Our perp is driving a dark colored car, medium build with blonde hair. He's around young middle age. Do your stuff guy," said Stacy.
A Change Over
Homer Fillmore, as his driver's license stated, did a quick appearance change in his car by dawning a white hair wig, glasses and put on a suit and tie. With his three inch elevated shoes, he looked like a college professor. He did the change over at the airport while parking his recently purchased used car where it wasn't so obvious. After that he walked with his brief case to the South-Port Airlines ticket counter for a one way to Portland, Oregon. An hour later he was airborne leaving behind a dead wife of a client.
When he arrived at PDX he went to long term parking to pick up his family van. It wasn't that Phil Matrix had much of a family, but he'd wallet full of kid pictures for the curious. A wedding ring was part and partial of his cover.
While he warmed up his van, he made a call. He said, "I sent the document via overnight mail. You should receive confirmation by tomorrow of the event. There remains the postage due. I'll check with my secretary tomorrow."
Phil drove east bound on I-84 to The Dallas area. From there he'd take Highway 197 south to Dufur where Phil was the current owner of the Balch Hotel. The old hotel is on the national register of
historical importance. Phil and his mother have owned the hotel since the mid nineties. While he is off on business, mother Henny runs the place and also does the cooking.
Phil decided to stop at the truck stop in Troutdale for something to eat. It's been a long day. However, the fifty grand made it worthwhile. While he sat waiting for his order, his personal business cell went off. It was his broker calling. "I'm listening," he said.
"Check your PO box in The Dallas for a new assignment," said a deep voice that ended almost as quickly as it started. His order came and half hour later he was on cruise control doing the speed limit.
Lady on the Rock
June is a lovely time in Oregon no matter where you are or go. However, for a nice looking woman in her early thirties, at low tide her life ended tragically. As the volunteer firemen of Bandon scurried to retrieve her before the tide claimed the body, Stacy observed the demoralizing scene in front of her. She saw a long legged white woman with a wet suit only on top with the legs bare. From the position she landed upon the rock would have instantly broken her back and death would have occurred immediately.
Of course the question was why someone would push her off the giant rock. Was it her husband, boyfriend, old boyfriend or what? Death was not becoming to someone so young. Stacy remembered her grandmother in her coffin looking peaceful and happy. That couldn't be said for the upcoming funeral for this victim of foul play. She noticed the wind was rather biting for a June day; also a little cold. It would be nice, she thought, to snuggle up into Rory's big coat as he wrapped his long arms around her.
It been quite a spell since the first time they met as she'd just arrived from the university with a degree in criminology. Having just spent five years away from home, along with her mother passing on, and her father, the Chief of Police, Stacy thought it prudent to spend a little time with her father. As things go, a patrolman retired making a vacancy open for her. Indeed it was a long ways from what she'd been trained for, but she didn't mind a bit. It'd been almost two years now since she'd returned and her father seemed very happy with his life.
However, her life was being slowly fulfilled with a man with whom she'd never have given any chance to from the first time they'd met. He was a sexist redneck with a misplaced sense of how the world worked in the 21st century.
The second thing the poor guy did was fall in love with petite Stacy Foreham. He discovered she had a large brain to go with a very nice personality and figure. He worked hard to overcome his faux pas. In reality he saw the faults he possessed. After it was all said and done, Stacy Foreham had shown all the law enforcement agencies how a detective solves cases. This case was number seven or eight, but who was counting. She looked up and here came Rory Caltex taking long strides with his over six foot height down the beach. She saw Ben, his partner struggling to half way keep up. Ben was on the quiet side where Rory was rather outgoing and happy most of the time. Especially if he was eating or with Stacy. It had become a ritual of sorts that after each case, they'd take a trip for a few days to see what the future might hold for the two of them. Stacy thought, as he waved, so far so good.
"Fill me in Super Sleuth," he said. She told him about Sam and a firsthand witness to the murder. Then she told him he'd been shot in the leg by the perp who disappeared after that.
"The firemen have removed her from that big boulder that is now covered in tide water. I hope she has some ID on her. Divers are known to have inside pockets where they can stash some ID or money in baggies. How soon before Marsha arrives, do you think?"
"About a half hour she told me. She was doing a car accident and would get here soonest she could. I see Ben checking her out. Well, some guy fights with her and then forces her over the side of the sea stack. Just what we need. I'll tell you Stacy; it would seem that since your arrived homicides has risen dramatically. Myself, I love it as I get to see you a lot more this way."
Ben Razor came over saying hello and how are being the polite one raised by a mother who had demanded it from her kids. It passed on with his own family of four. It was nice to see a family who openly shared their lives. Stacy was impressed to say the least. Ben did his job very well. He'd no notion of climbing anyone's ladder; quite the contrary, he was very happy being a good conscience detective. It was commonly known he'd see or find some evidence missed by others. Not always, but sometimes.
"See anything out of the ordinary besides an attractive woman lying dead on a beach," asked Rory.
"No not much, but I can see some skin under her nails. She fought back; I'll say that for her. The perp will have some fingernail marks on him. Other than that, we'd need on top of the stack to see if any clues had been left behind; but I doubt we'll find much," said Ben pointing towards the jetty seeing Dr. Marsha Stone trudging down the beach. Behind her came the CSI team and her photographer man of few, if any, words, bringing up the rear.
"Good morning Ace Detectives," said Marsha looking mostly at Stacy. "From what I hear about Smiling Sam, we need not worry about the time of death; not that means a lot to the victim." She gazed at the large sea stack imagining falling off the top knowing in the brief period, life was about to end. She gave a shudder and said, "I've a free afternoon; or it was free, how about 2:30 this afternoon?"
"I hope we can find some ID on this victim Marsha," said Stacy.
"As soon as the pics are taken, I'll check for an inside pocket," said Marsha.
Stacy watched her move off concentrating on the victim. The CSI team had very little to do as the tide had consumed the crime scene.
The Victims ID
Marsha knelt beside the body running the zipper down to her crotch. Indeed inside were two pockets that both contained items of interest. One was her current driver's license and the other had money and in case of emergency, phone numbers to call. Her name was totally familiar once it became known: Elisa Stromer, the 10 pm newscaster of channel 8 out of Portland. She was famous and well liked by her viewers. This news would rock the Portland area.
Stacy's mind went looking for answers to a few questions. What was she doing here on the beach 250 miles south of Portland climbing sea stacks with a killer? Who set her up and why? Was she married and Ben had the answer to that question: yes to a local Portland attorney.
What was the motive? Money from insurance benefits or maybe to relieve a divorce pre-nup that was never signed? In Stacy's mind, this was or had all the hallmarks of a contract killing.
"I thought I recognized her face," said Marsha. "Needless to say, this will be front page news tonight. Regardless, we must do an autopsy and go about our jobs. Let's move her to my morgue. It's getting colder by the minute out here and looks like a June rain is coming."
After leaving the crime scene, the three detectives went to Stacy's office. First they needed to contact the husband and set the investigation into motion. Stacy talked to her father the chief and all he did was shake his head.
Rory called Vic Stromer on his private line that came from his wife's emergency numbers. His secretary, after hearing this was an emergency, connected him directly. "This is Vic Stromer," he said with an almost pleasant authoritative voice bordering on crass.
After Rory told him how sorry he was to bring him such devesatating news, the voice from Vic took on a much different tone. "Are you sure you're talking about my wife, Elisa?"
"Yes indeed I am Mr. Stromer. It's your wife and the same Elisa Stromer who does the 10 o'clock news on channel 8," said Rory.
"It was my understanding she was at my sister's in Bend climbing some stupid rock walls. She's crazy about rock climbing. But you're saying she's in Bandon on the southern coast dead from a fall from a large rock?"
"She didn't fall Mr. Stromer but was pushed so that makes it a homicide. How is it she's not telling you where she really is," asked Rory.
Vic was quick catching the drift. He said, "Detective, my wife and I lead our own lives, but we dearly love each other. She has her career and hobbies as well as I do. I play golf; she
climbs rocks. I'll say this right now before we get too deep detective, I didn't kill or have my wife killed," said a voice that was starting to break up with emotion.
"If you didn't kill her, does she have or do you know anyone who might want her dead," asked Rory not forgetting who he was talking to: the victim's spouse.
"We've only been married for two years detective. And no I don't know anyone who didn't like my wife. She was very popular on and off the stage. She's an only child and this will just devastate her parents. Before this hits the news I'll go see them. After that I'll fly to North Bend to confirm or deny it's my wife."
"If you have a current life insurance policy on your wife please bring any and all documents, such as a will, with you please," said a gently spoken Rory.
"Consider it done. I'll be there tomorrow morning at the latest."
Rory hung up and said, "I'm starving. Anyone for lunch?"
"For once I'm hungry too," said Stacy. "Let's see if the chief wants to go as well."
Across the street at the restaurant, with Chief Foreham as well, they all had the special of the day. Rory was an exception with a side order of onion rings with his crab melt sandwich.
Rory said, "Vic told me he didn't do it nor did he have it done. However, at this point he's our prime suspect. He'll be here tomorrow am for a viewing. He also said he'd inform the parents."
"I think it's obvious that this was a hired killing," said the chief. "Hit men are slick as any low life there is. In today's high tech world, it's not easy to follow the money trail or to find a lead on a real professional killer. It would be a really stupid lawyer who took a contract out on his famous wife. Of course it might cheaper than a divorce, if caught, shadows fall across your face all day long from the iron bars. Oregon still has the death penalty and this lawyer knows that very well. The victim is a celebrity and her followers would demand the life for a life idea."
Murder Mysteries #3 Page 1
