While Rome Was Sleeping

by M. S. Forsythe

  No wonder Coleman got ahead with a man like Mike Owens promoting him. Andrew closed the file and started home; his thoughts moved forward to Vietnam more than a decade later.

  ✽✽✽

  The questions were coming faster than the answers. Preoccupied, he drove into the garage of the apartment building; he felt very tired and instead of the stairs, he decided to take the slow, but certain, elevator to the fourth floor.

  As he put the key in the lock he noticed the door was unlocked and not even tightly closed. Immediately alert, he stepped aside and cautiously pushed the door open.

  “What the...?” The sight that greeted his eyes was unreal. Stunned, he stood in the open doorway for a moment before entering a room that looked as though a hurricane had passed through. Everything had been thrown off his desk and tables and strewn all over the room. Someone had gone to great lengths to make as much of a mess as possible while searching for only God knew what. It was clear there was neither rhyme nor reason for the destruction.

  He found the same chaos in the kitchen and bedroom where many of his clothes had been pulled out of the closet and dumped on the floor; he noticed the linen closet had also been emptied. The bathroom medicine cabinet had been searched and emptied on to the floor. “What a mess!” Andrew groaned. “I wonder where the phones are. The bedroom phone was gone and after a short search he found one behind the sofa with the wires pulled out. Andrew swore and sighed wearily as he went back to his car; he had to find a telephone and call Savalza.

  ✽✽✽

  11:25 PM the phone was ringing in the Savalza bedroom; Jean Ann reached across her sleeping husband to answer, but Jim took the phone from her hand, “Hullo” he said drowsily.

  “Sorry to wake you, Jim this is Andy...”

  “Yeah? What now??”

  “Someone paid me a visit today, and I know it wasn’t Tanner and Schultz; but by comparison, the Seamen’s Center looked amateurish.”

  “Yeah? What’s missing?” Jim was awake now.

  “Nothing—everything—I don’t know; it’s such a mess who could tell?”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Maybe you should move into a better neighborhood.” Jim added. “Have you called 9-1-1? Never mind I’ll take care of it.”

  “Right! Anymore good ideas?”

  “No, see ya’...”

  When Andrew returned to the apartment building he noticed a blue and white Seattle Police cruiser parked outside; inside on the fourth floor, two uniformed officers were waiting by his door.

  “You Kincaid?” one of them asked.

  “That’s me.” Andrew answered.

  “We were told to meet Detective Savalza here.”

  “Sure, come on in, but watch where you step.” Andrew warned.

  One of the officers gave a low whistle. “Holy...What hit this place? Looks like a tornado!”

  The officers were talking with Andrew and making notes when Savalza appeared at the door. “Holy smoke! Don’t touch anything until the lab guys do their thing,” he said to no one in particular. “Andy, looks like someone sure doesn’t like your column!”

  “Funny!” Andrew commented grimly. He was leaning, arms folded, against the wall that separated the living room from his bedroom.

  Jim looked at his obviously weary friend, “I guess you won’t be spending the night here. Why don’t you come home with me? I know Jean Ann won’t mind-”

  “No, thanks anyway, Jim; I’ll get a room at the WAC, it’s closer to work and,” he paused, “I don’t want to be too far away from here.”

  Jim was studying the mess and thinking out loud, “This is no ordinary burglary. Whoever did this was really angry or crazy—maybe both. Andy, could they have been looking for something? Maybe-maybe something that they thought belonged to Kelshaw?”

  Andrew nodded ... “That would be my guess and when they didn’t find it here, they went nuts and...” his sentence went unfinished.

  Simultaneously, they said “Charlene!”

  Jim said, “Come on, I think we should take a ride in my car.”

  “Good idea!” Andrew agreed.

  As they pulled up in front of the bungalow, Andrew spotted a dark sedan parked in front with two men inside. He said excitedly, “Look at that...someone is-”

  “Stay cool,” Jim interrupted him. “That’s some of our guys,” He slowed the car and pulled along side. Telling Andy to lower his window, he called across to the driver of the unmarked sedan, “Everything under control?”

  “All’s quiet,” the driver answered. “Ms. Thayer was still up when we got here. We didn’t make a big deal out of it, but she seemed glad we were here.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Jim told them. He could see the relief on Andrew’s face.

  “When did you decide to do that?” Andrew asked as they drove toward downtown Seattle.

  “About the time I got your call—as I said there are still some big pieces of the puzzle missing, even with Tanner and Schultz out of the game. I wanted to be sure we had our bases covered. I figured you’d feel better if you knew that.”

  “Thanks, Jim, I do feel better.”

  ✽✽✽

  It was late Sunday night and Monte was traveling Interstate 5 leaving the lights of Seattle behind. His destination at first would be California; he hadn’t thought beyond just getting away from Seattle before he had to report to Ramsey on Monday.

  He hadn’t found anything that belonged to Kelshaw in Kincaid’s apartment and he needed to put as much distance between himself and Lyle Ramsey as possible, not to mention the Seattle Police Department.

  He smiled to himself when he thought about Kincaid’s apartment. “He thinks he’s so damned smart,” he sneered. “I’d like to have seen his face when he got home. Surprise, Mr. Smart Guy! Ha, ha, the joke’s on you!” he laughed.

  He thought about his wife, Dora, but decided she would do all right, she could always move in with her sister..., she would be okay. He patted the briefcase where he had stashed the money. He had the hundred thousand plus most of the thirty thousand from Jake and Leo. Dora would get help from the Department. He felt a twinge of guilt about taking all the cash and not even saying goodbye, but if she knew about Ramsey she would understand that he needed all the money to get away.

  The traffic was moderately heavy on I-5 for a Sunday night and that made Monte nervous; it would be difficult for him to spot a tail.

  But why would anyone be tailing him? He didn’t have to report to Ramsey until tomorrow and by that time he would be long gone. All the same he decided to exit at South Center and connect with the West Valley Highway that wound South through the Kent Valley.

  That way he could keep an eye on the rear view mirror for anything suspicious.

  Soon he was on the two lane highway and it was dark. Once he caught a glimpse of car lights behind him and he turned off on Russell Road that followed the Green River.

  Once again he was alone. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck tingle, “I don’t get a good feeling about this,” he told himself. “Maybe I should have stayed on the freeway. I’ll pick it up again this side of Tacoma as soon as I can.”

  Suddenly there were car lights in his rear view mirror coming up fast. He could see flashing lights and he identified it as a police car; for a minute he panicked, but the car passed him and disappeared around a curve. He breathed a sigh of relief as he slowed down. The road was now paralleling the Green River on one side in a series of curves. Monte began humming to himself, soon he would be away and Ramsey would never find him—and if he could arrange to get out of the country, neither would the Seattle Police Department.

  He rounded a curve in the road and hit his brakes. The police cruiser was parked crosswise in the road... a roadblock. “Damn it,” he swore. “Oh well, they should let me through.” He would flash his badge. “No one should be looking for me—not yet.” It was too soon. Still he preferred not to identify himself if he could help it. He couldn’t avoid the road block. He pulled o
ver carefully onto the narrow shoulder. A low guard rail was all that prevented a car that got too close to the edge, from plunging down an embankment into the river. He needed to think.

  Looking ahead at the police car Monte saw a man dressed in dark clothing outside leaning against the cruiser... then he caught the glint of a gun barrel pointed at him. “What the..?” This was the end of the road. Glass shattered, Monte’s head snapped back as the bullet entered his brain ... his last word was incomplete, “Rams..!”

  The police car pushed Monte’s car through the rail and down the embankment where it landed partially hidden, the front end in the river.

  Chapter 8

  Monday, September 22, 1980

  8:00 AM

  When Jim arrived at the Department on Monday, there was an urgent message to call Carl Cramer in Property. He was about to place the call to Carl when another call came through from Len Phillips at Labor and Industries.

  “Savalza” Jim answered quickly.

  “Detective Jim Savalza? This is Len Phillips from Labor and Industries, I don’t know if you remember me, but we met a couple of years ago on an investigation of an accident on a bridge construction project.”

  Jim thought a moment. “Oh yes, Len I do remember.”

  “Are you still with homicide?” Len asked.

  “Still here,” Jim told him. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well,” Len explained, “On Friday I had a little run-in with a member of your department—a detective Monte Maxwell, know him?”

  “Yeah, I know him.” Jim sighed, Monte again!

  “Well, Maxwell told me he was heading up the investigation on the fatalities that occurred at the Rainier Tower, the two window washers that fell. We had a disagreement about how the cables on the scaffolding gave out. Maxwell insisted that the cables were worn and gave out as a result of fatigue. I, on the other hand, believe they were tampered with; in fact it is obvious that they have been cut in some fashion. Maxwell said that he was writing this up as an accident in his report to your Department Head; says the Captain will back him up.”

  “I don’t see how I can be of help to you, Len; Detective Maxwell doesn’t work for me.”

  “Look, Detective Savalza, I don’t want to put you on the spot, but I just want a second opinion. There’s something fishy going on—I can feel it. The wires in those cables had some help to come apart, and it should be obvious to Maxwell too. I’m asking you to come down to the warehouse and give me your opinion. We’ve impounded the scaffolding and, of course, our lab will x-ray the cables for fatigue. But if there is some doubt, I would appreciate anything you might be able to do before this turns into a bad situation between our departments.”

  “Okay, Len, I have a couple of calls to take care of here and then I’ll come down. Where are you going to be?”

  “I’m here at the State warehouse in Georgetown. Do you know where it is?”

  “Yes, I’ve been there a couple of times...see you in an hour or so.”

  Next, Jim called Carl in Property.

  “Hey, Jim, something has me worried and I need to talk to somebody I can trust,” Carl said. “Can you stop by Property as soon as possible?”

  “Sure I’ll be right there.”

  When Jim walked in to the Property Department he could see Carl was visibly upset. “What’s up?” he asked.

  “You know, Jim, I don’t like to point fingers or accuse anybody of anything, but there is some property missing; it’s the property that belonged to those two window washers that fell on Friday. The last person to examine the stuff was Monte Maxwell. He came in and wanted to see the property items...said that he was in charge of the investigation. He said it was an accident and that he was just cleaning up some loose ends.”

  Jim asked, “What exactly is missing, Carl?”

  “Money; as I said, I hate to point fingers but…”

  “How much money are we talking about?”

  Carl held up an empty envelope and the money belt, “About $14,555 and change.”

  Jim whistled, “That’s a lot of money! Where would a couple of window washers get that kind of money?”

  Carl looked bewildered, “I sure don’t know..., but it was here before Monte came and now it’s gone! There’s something else, too, that’s not too big a deal; I think Monte took one of their belts and left his old one. Look at this,” Carl unwound the large black belt that was coiled among the clothing. “This belt had to be Monte’s.”

  Jim’s eyebrows went up, “Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know, but judging from the rest of the clothing, these guys were a lot smaller than Monte so I don’t know why Monte would trade belts. No wonder he said he needed to get out of here to get some air...he couldn’t breathe if he was wearing a belt that tight.”

  Jim just stood shaking his head...looking at the few possessions; suddenly he saw it, a knife, a switch-blade, about the size and shape of the weapon that could have been used in the stabbing of George Kelshaw. It might be the one piece of solid evidence that could tie Schultz and Tanner to the murder.

  He said excitedly, “Carl, bag that knife and get it to the crime lab right away. Tell them it could be the weapon used in the Kelshaw murder. Tell them I need their report ASAP. About this other problem, just hold tight,” Jim advised. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Carl, and you won’t be the one holding the bag, I promise. I’ll get back to you soon. Right now I have to go down to Georgetown and pay a visit to Len Phillips at Labor and Industries.”

  On the drive to the Georgetown L &I warehouse, in his mind, Jim went over his suspicions regarding Monte’s behavior; there was the business of the envelope that Monte had picked up at the Washington Athletic Club, then Monte’s name in the Property Log to examine George Kelshaw’s personal effects. What connection could Monte have with George Kelshaw? It seemed almost unbelievable, but now it was obvious that he was involved with Schultz and Tanner which somehow connected him to Kelshaw.

  He drew a deep breath; he decided to carefully chart Monte’s movements before and since Kelshaw’s death.

  Len greeted Jim as he came through the door of the warehouse, “Glad you could make it,” he said. He then took Jim to the wrecked scaffolding and showed him the cables.

  He watched as Jim closely examined them.

  “Like I said before, it looks to me like these cables were worked on and at least partially cut. Our team will x-ray them this afternoon just to make sure.”

  “I would agree,” Jim answered. “They sure look as though they have been cut. X-raying should prove it.”

  “I don’t know where Maxwell is on this, Jim. He absolutely insisted on reporting that it was an accident without the necessary proof. You and I both know that if it is ruled as accidental, without that proof, someone is getting away with murder. On the other hand if this was, indeed, an accident, Labor and Industries wants the company to be held accountable.”

  “I understand, Len. I don’t know what Maxwell’s problem is either, but I plan to find out.”

  ✽✽✽

  10:30 AM

  The phone was ringing on Jim’s desk as he walked in. He gave a somewhat harried greeting, “Savalza”.

  “Good morning, Jim, this is Evan Scott. I’m calling you to discuss having George Kelshaw’s body released for burial.”

  “Ah, that may be possible; I think we may have had a break this morning, I believe we found the murder weapon. It’s in the lab being examined as we speak. If it is in fact the...”

  “Also, Jim,” Evan interrupted, “I think I should meet with you and your Captain to cover you in this situation.”

  “Cover me? How so?”

  “We need to let your Captain know that George worked for the Agency. I’ll call him and set it up. It won’t take much of your time.”

  “Right. Thanks.” Time had become a short commodity today.

  Jim’s next stop was at Ed Peterson’s desk. “Where’s Monte, has he come in?”

&n
bsp; “No,” Ed answered. “He didn’t make it in yet today. I haven’t seen him since Friday and he was in such a rotten mood; to be honest it’s sort of peaceful when he’s not here.”

  “I need to talk with him, right away.” Jim insisted.

  “Maybe he’s still at home. Maybe I’d better call him.” Ed quickly dialed Monte’s number. “Hello, Dora, this is Ed Peterson, is Monte around?”

  The voice on the other end said, “No, I haven’t seen him since yesterday, Sunday, Ed. He told me he was going to be on a stake-out with you. I need to talk with him too. I went to the bank this morning to cash a check and we have no money in our account. Don’t you know where he is?” Dora sounded alarmed.

  “He said he was going on a stake-out with me?” Ed asked surprised.

  “Yes,” Dora replied anxiously. He said he would be on a stake-out and don’t wait up for him. He often does this.”

  “Okay, Dora, we’ll track him down, don’t worry,” Ed said solicitously.

  As he hung up, Ed looked at Jim and said, “This doesn’t make sense. He told Dora he would be on a stake-out with me yesterday, and he hasn’t been home since. He hasn’t called in, here or at home, and Dora is very upset about money. She said her bank account is empty.” Ed said in a concerned voice.

  “We need to find him and we need to talk to Captain Martin. Maybe he knows something. I’ll see if we can see him now.” Jim replied.

  “That’s a good idea. Monte has sure been acting peculiar lately. You know while we were investigating that fall over at the Rainier Tower, he and the guy from Labor and Industries got into a big row and were yelling at each other right there in the street.”

  “Yeah, I heard about it, Ed,” Jim responded as he dialed the Captain’s office, inquiring for time.

  Captain Martin was able to see them immediately. Jim opened the conversation. “Captain Martin, before this gets more serious than it is now, there are some things regarding Detective Maxwell’s movements and behavior lately that you should be aware of. I will defer to Peterson to fill you in from his side.”