“Well, we better be real careful,” said Danny in a hushed voice. “If he did this to Jessica’s husband, just imagine what he’d do to us. Aldo, you need to look for him upstairs since I’m on crutches.”
Aldo carefully tiptoed up the stairway while alertly looking for any signs of the big Samoan. However, as soon as Aldo got to the top of the stairs, he saw the carcass of the big limo driver lying on the floor in a huge pool of blood.
“I found the limo driver,” said Aldo in a semi-state of shock. “This time, he’s definitely dead.”
“Well, guys – what do we do now?” asked a very distraught Jessica. “In an instant, this disaster has changed everything for the worse. I can either see that we are all going to jail for the rest of our lives, or worse yet, my new love – my dearest Danny from another dimension, will probably end up dying if my husband happens to die. Aldo, you’re a very intelligent, clever man – what can we possibly do?”
Aldo paced nervously in private silence for a few seconds, and then he said, “I can see a trail of blood drippings running down the hallway. Let me follow the trace of blood. I see that the splatters continue down the hallway towards the master bedroom. I need to figure out exactly what happened before I can formulate a plan. I’ll be right back.”
Jessica found solace by embracing her new love, Danny, while Aldo went to investigate. A minute or two later, Aldo came back down the stairs…
“Here’s what I believe happened… Your husband must have found out a way to escape from the wine cellar. I’ll bet we can find evidence down there of how he orchestrated his escape. At the same time, the Samoan must have somehow regained consciousness. Obviously, he managed to tunnel his way back to the surface. He clearly got in a fight with the dogs – the Rottweilers bit off some of his fingers, and he killed one of them. Next, I can tell the two guys had a very bloody fight in the master bedroom. There’s blood everywhere, and I found another one of the Samoan’s fingers on the bedroom floor. The fight must have ended with Danny shooting him in the heart just as the charging Samoan knocked your husband down the stairway. Your gun is lying on the hallway’s floor, close to the edge of the stairs – I want nobody to touch it at all, since the police detectives will no doubt be looking in every nook and cranny for evidence. I’m pretty sure that the limo driver must have thought that Jessica’s husband was you, Danny – the same guy who knocked him out yesterday with the bottle of water. Of course, if he was buried alive and left there to die, he’d have a vendetta against you and me both. He just happened to attack the wrong Danny, since you guys look exactly alike.”
“OK, Aldo,” replied Jessica. “That’s a brilliant deduction, but what do we do now? How can we avoid going to jail?”
“For sure, we must call ‘911’ to get your husband to the hospital – if he dies, I’m quite sure our other Danny will also die due to a huge imbalance of positive and negative ions of luck. However, first we must quickly take care of a few necessities, such as a quick clean up in the wine cellar. Next, Danny and I must leave the premises – for good. Judging by your husband’s appearance, he likely sustained a badly fractured skull. There is a good chance he’ll end up in a coma, which might be the best possible outcome for all of us. If that should happen to be the case, don’t ever let the doctors take him off a life support system, since that would ultimately kill our other Danny as well. If your husband ends up in an extended coma, you can tell the police any story you can dream of, since your husband won’t be able to contradict your testimony. Of course, your safety would only last as long as your husband remains comatose.”
“So, Aldo,” said a very serious looking Jessica, “what exactly should I tell the police?”
“Your husband, the famous writer, is a very public figure, so you can be sure that people will testify that he was just seen at the bank in Seattle today. The banker seemed very suspicious of why he needed to withdraw so much cash. Perhaps – yes, definitely – let’s scatter this three hundred thousand dollars in cash around the entrance. Jessica – I hope you’re a good actress, or should I say ‘liar’ – I want you to tell the police that you have been suspecting that your husband was being blackmailed by someone who had information about his affair with ‘Babs’.”
“I like the way you think, Aldo,” said Jessica. “I’m impressed.”
“Me too,” added an astonished Danny.
“Save the flattery for later,” said Aldo. “Now listen up – we can’t waste any time in calling for an ambulance… Phone records will confirm that your husband spoke to Babs last night to break up with her, and that the two of you reconciled. By the way, Jessica, did your husband often travel by limousine?”
“Yes, and he always used the same company, ‘Luxury Limos’.”
“Perfect,” said a delighted Aldo. “The Samoan limo driver could easily have found out about your husband’s illicit affair with Babs – and he could very realistically have tried to blackmail him accordingly.”
“Nice thinking, but what can I say about the limo buried in the swimming pool area?” asked Jessica.
“You should just act like you smelled something fishy when your husband suddenly had a change of heart and asked you to cancel the swimming pool contractor. When the detectives dust the limo for fingerprints, they will find your Danny’s fingerprints inside – but they will automatically assume that the fingerprints belong to Jessica’s husband, the famous Danny Donaldson. Even if he ever recovers from his coma, the police will automatically link him to the murder of the Samoan limo driver.”
“Gee, Aldo – I thought you were just a kindly physics professor. I never knew you could be such a devious mastermind.”
“That’s the best I can do on a spur of the moment,” said Aldo, “but Jessica – it’s imperative that as soon as we leave, you need to make a quick side trip to a grocery store to kill about fifteen minutes. Make sure you set up some sort of alibi. That way you can alienate yourself from their deadly altercation. When you return home after your shopping trip, you were shocked to discover the horrific mess which must have just happened while you were gone to the store.”
Aldo told her to go downstairs to clean up any evidence that her husband had been imprisoned in there, and then he said, “Danny – give me the wallet and your crutches. I need to plant them somewhere in the master bedroom.”
Aldo made sure to tiptoe around the blood drippings to avoid making any unidentified footprints. After setting down the wallet on the bathroom counter, Aldo placed the crutches next to the bed. Right as he was about to leave, Aldo had presence of mind to scoot the dresser back to its original position, since it was important to fully expose the bullet hole from Jessica’s gunshot aimed at Danny. He reasoned, “The detectives are bound to find the bullet hole anyway, so it would appear strange if it was intentionally covered up. This way, they’ll come to the conclusion that your husband’s first shot at the Samoan missed, but he killed him with the second shot out in the hallway.”
A couple minutes later they returned to the entrance, where Danny had scattered several bundles of hundred dollar bills.
“My husband broke a wine bottle, and he must have used a sharp piece of glass to cut through his tape. I also cleaned up fragments of a demolished doorknob. It looks like he used an empty beer keg to break off the doorknob.”
“He must be a clever, resourceful guy like me,” said Danny.
“Clever – yes, and resourceful too,” said Jessica, “but other than that, you are the polar opposite from my lying, cheating husband. You’re the man of my destiny.”
Aldo took a pulse reading from her unconscious husband. He said, “His pulse is weakening. Jessica, I want you to head out to the store and be back in no more than fifteen minutes. Just cause a bit of a commotion so that somebody, like a clerk, will remember that you were there. Danny and I need to watch over your husband. We’ll leave as soon as you return, so you can then call 911 for an ambulance.”
Jessica gave Danny a peck on the cheek bef
ore she hustled out the door.
As soon as she left, Aldo told Danny, “I’m not a medic, but I’m sure your alter ego is dying. I need you to donate a bit of blood, even just a full pint would make a big difference, or else he might even die before Jessica gets back.”
“Well, Aldo, I don’t want to mess with nature’s balance of positive and negative ions of luck, so he can take back a pint of blood of my blood.”
Meanwhile, Jessica drove straight to the closest grocery store. She grabbed a French baguette, and asked the man at the deli counter to slice her some imported Italian salami…
“I want it sliced thin, but not too thin.”
“Hi, Mrs. Donaldson, I’ll cut you a sample slice for you.”
After inspecting the salami slice while sneering, she said, “That’s way too thick. Salami is easier to chew and it tastes better when it’s sliced thin.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Donaldson,” said the deli man as he adjusted his slicer and made her a thinner slice.
“Oh, come on – that’s way too thin. It’s so thin, it’s practically transparent. If the salami is too thin, it just falls apart into shreds.”
“I can make it a little thicker if you prefer,” said the deli man as he rolled his eyes in amazement.
When he presented the third slice to her she said, “Oh, now you made it too thick again – didn’t anybody teach you how to slice a lousy salami? It isn’t rocket science, you know. Oh, why do I even bother trying to deal with you? Just package me up a whole, uncut salami and I’ll slice the damn thing when I get back home.”
The deli man just shook his head in amazement while thinking, “Holy Jesus, I wonder what’s up with her. Mrs. Donaldson is usually really nice to me. Today, she’s acting more like the other stuck up bitches who shop here all the time. I suppose that she’s probably suffering from an acute case of PMS.”
Jessica sped back home while checking her watch on numerous occasions. She thought, “At least I’m sure the guy at the deli counter won’t forget that I was there today.”
Aldo was just repacking away his transfusion kit when she returned.
“OK, Jessica, give us a two minute head start up the hill, and then dial 911. Your husband desperately needed some extra blood, so Danny was nice to give him some of it back. I think we’ve covered up everything. Danny is staying at my house in Shoreline, but you mustn’t try to contact him there. It would be more natural for you to come visit my physics lab at the University of Washington campus. I’ll be there every day, and Danny will join me as soon as his leg is feeling better. I need medical updates on your husband, and try to act honest and straight forward when answering questions to the police. OK, please let us out through the gate now.”
Jessica and Aldo helped Danny to make it over to the scuffed up Toyota in the driveway. Before Danny climbed into the car, he gave her a long, tender kiss. He said, “Whatever may happen, meeting you is by far the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Jessica, my sweetheart, I love you.”
“I love you too,” said Jessica as Aldo helped Danny into the back seat.
Before Aldo climbed into the driver’s seat, he verbally told Jessica his home phone number, and he asked her to repeat it to him – twice. “OK, Jessica. That’s only for real emergencies, and never call me from any traceable phone. The old fashioned ‘pay phones’ are probably the safest. Best of luck to you.”
“Make that, ‘best of luck to us all’,” replied Jessica.
She longingly waved ‘good-bye’ as she watched Aldo driving away. Exactly two minutes later she picked up her phone…
“911. Do you have an emergency?”
In a well-acted, emotionally-shaken voice Jessica said, “Yes. My husband, Danny Donaldson, has been assaulted in our house by an intruder. My husband hit his head on the marble floor, and he is bleeding to death…”
12
Although Aldo was in a hurry to leave Mercer Island as soon as possible, he was particularly cautious to not get pulled over by the police for any traffic violations.
While Aldo drove, Danny quietly spent most of his time thinking about Jessica. He was very concerned for her upcoming interactions with the police.
“I wonder how Jessica is going to handle some of the tough questions from the detectives – in particular, how’s she going to explain the buried limo in her backyard?”
“That’s certainly going to be among the more difficult questions for her to answer.”
“I hope she’ll be able to fabricate a logical story for the detectives without you there to coach her. The police investigators are quick to identify fishy sounding answers.”
“That’s true, Danny. I hope she won’t give them contradictory testimony that raises any flags. Since Danny Donaldson is a celebrity, you can expect added pressure from the media. I hope she doesn’t crack under pressure.”
“I sure wish her well,” said Danny.
“You better also wish your alter-ego well too, since if he dies, I’m pretty sure that nature’s laws won’t allow for an imbalance of ions of luck. In the meantime, you need to begin growing a beard. You definitely don’t want to resemble the famous Danny Donaldson – and wear some sunglasses whenever we are out in public. I’ll bet tonight’s evening TV news will include coverage of Danny Donaldson’s condition. You’ll soon need to assume a new identity, just in case you are questioned by a cop for any reason at all. From this day forward, you are no longer Danny Donaldson. Capish?”
“You sound so Mafioso when you say that, but yes, I agree to do so.”
Within minutes, three police cars, a fire truck, and two ambulances pulled down the Donaldson’s driveway. Jessica had put Killjoy into the kennel so she could leave the entrance gates wide open. Not surprisingly, television news crews were only a few minutes behind.
Jessica had no trouble putting on a display of tears which were supposedly shed over her injured husband. She was truly afraid that her husband might die, which would be very detrimental to her new found love. She led the medics directly to her unconscious husband, lying on his back, in a puddle of blood on the white, marble floor.
Another team of medics climbed the stairs when Jessica told them that an intruder had been shot upstairs. They quickly concluded that the Samoan limo driver was dead.
A conservative looking white man in his late thirties, wearing a dark business suit approached Jessica…
“I assume you must be Mrs. Donaldson. Isn’t that so?” asked Paul Harrison, the lead detective, as he handed her his business card.
“Yes, that’s me,” said Jessica as she wiped tears from her face.
“I know you must be terribly shaken by this horrific incident, and I understand that you’ll want to head down to the hospital to be with your husband, but can you quickly tell us what happened?”
Jessica felt a great deal of anxiety as she saw the detective writing down everything on his notepad. She said, “We came back from a trip to the bank. Lately my husband, Danny, has been acting strange. He ended up confessing to me last night that he had an affair with a girl named, Babs, and that he was being blackmailed by someone who worked for a limousine company. Danny had a pulled hamstring muscle, so after the trip to the bank he wanted to rest at home. After I helped him up the stairs, I decided to make a quick trip to the store to buy some groceries. I couldn’t have been gone more than half an hour or so. When I returned, I found this incredibly, gory, bloody mess – and found my husband lying on the floor, unconscious… Is he going to survive?” asked Jessica while wiping away some fresh tears.
“I can’t answer that,” said Detective Harrison, “but perhaps the chief medic will have some information for you...”
“I have a mixed prognosis for you… At first glance, I thought your husband was on the very edge of bleeding to death. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find that his pulse and blood pressure are way stronger than I had anticipated – that’s the good news. On the other hand, your husband’s skull seems to be badly fractured w
hen he hit the back of his head on the stone floor. There’s no telling what may be the final outcome… He could recover in a few, short weeks and be back to normal, or he could slip into a deep coma – and then there is always the possibility that he could die. My job is to transport him to Overlake Hospital for emergency surgery. We need to go right now. He’ll be admitted to the ER.”
Detective Harrison instructed Jessica to go ahead and drive herself to the hospital. He said, “My team will be here at your house for several hours. We intend to go through this scene with a fine-toothed comb. I happen to be a big fan of your husband, the famous writer, Danny Donaldson. I wish him well. I’m sure I’ll have many questions for you after the initial investigation. We can have a meeting at a later time.”
“That’ll be fine, Detective Harrison,” said a sniveling Jessica. “I’m need to head straight over to the hospital. I’m very concerned about my husband’s wellbeing.”
After waiting for an hour at the ER’s waiting room, Jessica was approached by an Asian doctor wearing light blue surgical garments…
“Hello, Mrs. Donaldson – I’m Dr. Tanaka. Your husband suffered major trauma to his head, and his skull has severe fractures. I just stopped the bleeding and wrapped his head to minimize any movement of his skull fragments. He’s being taken into surgery now.”
“Is my husband going to be alright?” asked Jessica.
“It’s way too early to tell. All I can say is that Mr. Donaldson is in critical condition, and we will do everything we can to save him.”
While she waited around the ER’s waiting room for several hours, she happened to see a ‘pay telephone’ hanging on the wall in a discreet alcove. She looked around to make sure that no one was watching her before she called Aldo’s home phone…
“Hello,” said Aldo – unaware of who was calling.
“It’s me, Jessica. I’m calling from a hospital pay phone.”
“That’s good, but be very careful. There shouldn’t be any record of you calling my house. Later on, you probably should only contact me at the University of Washington Physics Department. So, how’s your husband doing?”
Ions Of Luck Page 9
