Carter's Cases Read online

  “Howdy Dan, pretty good. Hey, is it true what they’re sayin’, that you got shot in the back and can’t walk no more?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I’m calling you. I got a lot of pain from the surgery still, and my tight-ass doc won’t give me enough pain medication. You know how they can be.”

  “Sure, no problem. Whatcha’ takin’?”

  “Oxy. Can you get me a hundred?”

  “You bet. I’ll bring ‘em by your crib this afternoon.”

  “Thanks, Jason. How much will that many cost me?”

  “For you…nothin’. You kept my ass outta’ jail every time I called on you. I guess I can do you a solid for once.

  “Great. I’ll catch you this afternoon.”

  During his physical therapy session with Eddy that day, Benji came in and told Dan that his “dealer” had just stopped by.

  “I told him that no delivery was needed right now, but he could come back another time if he wanted to get his teeth kicked in. Was that okay boss?”

  Oh shit! I forgot to tell Jason what time to bring the pills. Maybe, on some level, I wanted Benji to catch me. I am not that far away from becoming a full blown addict, and that’s not what I want for my life.

  Dan decided he would have to be strong and give Dr. Morgan’s plan a try.

  “Yeah Benji, thank you.”

  Chapter 13

  Karen had also been depressed after Dan had rejected her attempts to “be there” for him after his surgery. She continued to try to see him for a full month before calling it quits. She understood Dan’s need to adjust to what he had been through, but then gave up. Jerry had been trying to get her to go out with him and she finally stopped putting him off.

  At first it was just a couple drinks after work. Jerry knew not to rush her. She and Dan had been pretty tight. After a week or so, he finally asked her out to dinner. Then they started cooking for each other at their apartments. One night his, the next, hers.

  She found out that he was as great a guy, as he had always told her was. His only flaw she could see was a slightly over active ego. She enjoyed her time with Jerry, and was eventually able to forgive Dan, although she knew they were definitely over.

  One night, after dinner and a great bottle of cabernet, they discovered that the kitchen in Jerry’s apartment was too close to his bedroom. The next morning, he was worried that he might have rushed her, but her good morning kiss convinced him that he had nothing to worry about.

  As a one-month celebration, in remembrance of that great bottle of cabernet, Karen moved in with Jerry. They might have chosen her place, but her kitchen was too far from the bedroom.

  Chapter 14

  Dan continued to struggle with his pain and emotions, but both gradually got better as Benji and Eddy continued working with him. He did not experience much in the way of withdrawal symptoms other than some sleeplessness and occasional vomiting. He had not been on the oxycodone long enough to become “strung out.” After about six months from his surgery, he was almost completely back to his old self. He began treating both friends with respect and was even able to joke about what a jackass he had been.

  Benji felt that meeting a compassionate, intelligent woman would go a long way to cheer his patient up even more, but Dan steadfastly refused.

  “Benji, don’t you get it? I am only half a man. Never mind that my legs don’t work, I can’t function sexually either. What woman is going to want a cripple like me?”

  “Don’t give up on yourself Dan. There are plenty of women out there who would be interested in someone like you. In case you haven’t noticed, a caring nature is a big part of the female personality.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, I might just be able to find someone who pities me enough to be willing to spend time with me. We could at least hold hands even if we can’t do the walk on the beach.”

  “That’s it, I give up!”

  “Good now go fix me some lunch.”

  “Yes boss, I’ll get right on that.”

  “And stop calling me boss!”

  “I’ll stop calling you boss when you stop wearing that fedora.”

  When not thinking about getting better and accepting the fact that he was probably going to be a cripple for life, Dan’s thoughts frequently returned to The Assassin. It wasn’t so much the threat against him and his loved ones that concerned him, as much as when the killer would return to attempt to carry out the prophecy.

  Case II – El Asesino de Turista (The Tourist Killer)

  Chapter 15

  Andrea looked around the kitchen at the drab walls, and dilapidated tile on the floor. The refrigerator was on its last legs and the paint had been scraped off under the handle. The faucet dripped, and she made her coffee in an old percolator. In spite of the worn-out condition of the room and everything in it, she did her best to keep it clean and orderly.

  She and Andy had just finished eating breakfast when they heard the front door open.

  “Oh baby, I bet that’s your daddy. Marty, is that you?”

  “It had better be. Otherwise, you are about to get raped.”

  Marty walked into the spotless kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and plopped down in one of the chairs. Andrea ignored his rude greeting, stood up and went to the stove.

  “Andy and I just had some bacon and scrambled eggs; would you like me to fix you some?”

  “What the hell woman? You know I don’t eat scrambled eggs. Fry me up a couple. Make sure the yolks are still runny and I don’t wanna see any brown color on them either.”

  Sure, she knew how he liked his eggs but had asked him anyway, just to irk him a bit. She wouldn’t ask him the question that would earn her a few more bruises, though. She wouldn’t dare ask him where he had been for the last three days.

  Andrea had been living with Marty since she was sixteen and had gotten pregnant with Andy, six and a half years ago. At twenty-two, she still did not have the confidence or courage to leave him, but she wasn’t stupid. She had learned what not to say to him as soon as he dropped the charmer act and became the monster that he truly was. That had happened right after she moved in with him. It was as if he dropped the nice guy routine as soon as he didn’t need it any longer. She had seen him do that with some of his friends as well. He was all “hey buddy, good to see you,” until he got what he wanted from them, then it was “get outta’ my sight, loser!”

  In spite of having learned the obvious ways to avoid making him angry she still earned the occasional slap across the face or punch in the stomach. That usually only happened when he got pissed at her for something she had no control over. Just the other day, he sprayed foam all over himself when he opened a beer. He slapped her across the face that time, when her only sin had been standing within reach.

  At least he never took his anger out on Andy. He didn’t have any love for his son, as far as she could tell. He mostly ignored the little guy. She figured he knew that hurting the only thing left in this world that she cared about, would push her over the edge, and he would pay with his life. He had to sleep sometime, didn’t he?

  Andrea knew about his affairs and one night stands. He didn’t make any effort to hide the fact that he was screwing around on her. He liked them young. He was always reminding her that she was getting old.

  At sixteen, she had been a pretty young woman with perky breasts, lovely brown hair, which she wore in a ponytail, and a killer smile. all the boys in her class in high school had lusted after her. Unfortunately, none of them could compete with the handsome and charming twenty-year old that met her at the diner every day at lunch.

  Now, however, she didn’t bother to take care of her looks. Andy loved her no matter what she looked like, but she had long ago realized that she could not please Marty, no matter how much she tried to look pretty for him. Besides, having other women to satisfy his animal lust was just fine b
y her.

  The source of his income was a mystery to her. She knew it was criminal activity of some kind. He came and went at all different times of day and night. He never told her how he got the money for food and other household expenses, let alone all the alcohol he drank. He didn’t drink the cheap stuff either. It was always expensive Scotch and premium imported beer. He wouldn’t let her drink any alcoholic beverages, but that was okay. He drank enough for both of them.

  When he had finished his breakfast and beer, he stood up, and threw a twenty on the table.

  “That’s for food and shit. Make sure I don’t run out of beer, either.”

  Then he pointed at the dishes on the table. “I am going to the ‘Happy Hour’. Have this mess cleaned up before I get home.”

  Since he never got home until late at night, she didn’t worry about rushing to wash a few dishes. She knew it was in his nature to play ‘King of the Castle’ and boss her around. She would take Andy to the park and have a good day in spite of ‘His Majesty’.

  Chapter 16

  Martin “Marty” Forrest was just an infant when his, sometimes sober, father ran off with a waitress from his favorite watering hole. His mother decided that the baby was the only love she needed in her life and fulfilled the role of single parent with gusto. Her beautiful baby boy would want for nothing. She raised him to believe that the world was his oyster and that he should have whatever he wanted, even if it belonged to someone else.

  At the age of twelve, Marty was already encouraging his mindless friends to join him in shoplifting sprees at the local stores. They would use the speediest youngster in the pack to lure the security guard into chasing him outside, while three or four other culprits filled their pockets and walked out, unmolested.

  On one cold and wet Saturday evening, when he was fifteen, he waited patiently behind some oil drums in the alley next to a gas station, for the bully who had been stealing his lunch money. The boy was a year older and much bigger than Marty but was no match for the six-inch blade that slid between his ribs and severed his aorta. He had the strangest look on his face when he died. Almost like he was apologetic. Marty chuckled and thought, “You mess with the bull, you’ll get the horn!”

  School was not an area which held much interest for Martin. He was required to repeat his freshman year and only squeaked by the tenth and eleventh grades by extensive cheating and extortion of assignments from fellow students through intimidation. During his first week as a senior, his frustration with the entire education process got the best of him, and he quit, telling himself he didn’t need all that phony crap anyway.

  His mother supported him for a few years while he continued his education on the street. He took advanced courses in intimidation of the weak and conning those stronger than he.

  Marty liked to have a following of younger boys full of admiration for his skills as a thief and con artist. He only befriended boys who made him look smart by association, so his followers were usually not very bright.

  When his mother threatened to throw him out if he didn’t start helping with expenses by paying rent, he was able to get a job as a pizza delivery boy. Although the guys who delivered in the evening made much better tips, he volunteered to work during the day. Often, some housewife who really wasn’t interested in pizza would give him much more than a tip while her husband was at work.

  When he heard his friends talking about this “really hot” girl at school, he decided to see for himself. He waited with them after classes one day, so they could point her out. As soon as he saw her, he decided that she was good enough to make him look like a real player. He turned on the charm and had her legs wrapped around his hips within two weeks.

  Chapter 17

  Marty loved the smell of stale beer that greeted him as he entered the Happy Hour bar. It used to smell even better, before those assholes in Sacramento banned smoking in all his favorite places. The mirror behind the bar was still covered with smoke and there were many burn marks on the bar itself to give testimony to the era when second hand smoke was still around to enjoy.

  He glanced at the two early drinkers at the bar, then looked around at the men sitting in the booths behind the two pool tables. Ollie and Barry were in the corner booth waiting for him. They were waiting to split the take from their last score.

  Two nights ago, the trio had cut the alarm and kicked in the back door of a local bakery. Ollie had pretended to be a health inspector and cased the place the previous week. He had seen the safe in the back room and recognized it as one of the few old ones that Barry knew how to open without the combination. After it was open, Marty scooped up the contents and put it all in a leather bag. The bag had a lock on it and he gave the keys to Ollie and Barry. This was their usual routine, to “keep everyone honest.” Neither of the two accomplices had noticed that the bottom of the bag had been sewn shut. It was an easy task to cut the stitching, take out what he wanted and sew the bag shut again. He knew just how big their share had to be to keep them happy and kept the rest for himself.

  As he counted out the shares, it came to five hundred dollars each. He tamped the edge of his stack of bills on the table and said, “Not bad eh guys?”

  They had no idea he had pocketed a thousand from the take already.

  Ollie said, “Jeez Marty I thought there would be a little bit more than that for us. That bakery is busy all day long.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Ollie. You don’t think I would cheat you, do you? You two are the best friends I have in this world. I would never try to cheat you. Besides, I have a new plan that is going to make us all rich.”

  “What’s this plan then Marty?” said Barry.

  “I’m glad you asked. The first thing we do is find someplace in Mexico, outside of Tijuana, where we can take care of customers without being seen or heard. Then we set up a phony tour business in San Diego, advertising low cost tours to Mexico. We will recruit tourists from the hotels downtown. Once we have them, we will drive down to our place near TJ and the tourists will “disappear”. We will harvest cash and credit cards there and take their room key back to the hotel and grab all their luggage. It’ll look like they skipped town without checking out.”

  Ollie asked, “What are we going to use for transportation. The only thing we have now is your beat up, old, Chevy. Nobody is going to take that for a tour vehicle.”

  “Not to worry, my friend, I will get us a new van. In the meantime, I want you two to scout a location for us to use as our tourists ‘final destination’.”

  Chapter 18

  The signs on the outside of the van read “Low Cost Tours to Mexico.” The guys had been sitting in the van which was parked in front of the Hard Rock hotel downtown when an elderly couple approached and knocked on the front window.

  Barry rolled down the window and said, “Can I help you?”

  “Yes,” said the man. “Your sign says tours to Mexico. How do we book one?”

  Marty leaned across Barry and said, “We just happen to be free this afternoon, if you would like to go today.”

  “Wonderful, what time?”

  “Well, if you are ready to go, we can go right now.”

  “That would be great. Betty, run up to our room and get my camera and notebook.”

  Ollie opened the passenger door from the inside, got out and gave the man a hand up into the van.

  As he got in, he said, “My name is John Marston. I’m a Professor of Anthropology and I teach that subject at Princeton. I’ve studied the Mixtec Indians that inhabited the mountainous area east of Tijuana since before Columbus. I am told that the remains of one of their ancient meeting places can still be found there.”

  “You heard correctly, Professor. You won’t find the meeting site on any maps or guide books, but we’ve taken tours there a few times.”

  Just then, Betty returned. Barry got out of the front passenger s
eat and opened the side door for her. Once she was seated, he slid into the last row of seats with Ollie.

  When they were on their way, Marty did all the talking for the boys, “Have you folks been to Mexico before?”

  “No but we knew we were going to, so we both have passports,” said the professor.

  “Well, you won’t need them entering Mexico. We can just drive across the border. On the way back is when the U.S. immigration officers will want to check them.

  When they were in National City, at the border, Marty pointed out the narrow bridge that went above the border checkpoints.

  “When returning from Mexico, pedestrians have to use that bridge to get to their cars parked in the lot on this side. We won’t need to worry about that as we will drive through over there. As you can see, there is a long line of cars waiting to come back to the states. The customs officers only check cars that look suspicious in some way, so it doesn’t take too long to get through.’

  While driving through the tourist part of Tijuana, Betty said, “There certainly are an awful lot of shops and stalls in this town.”

  “Yeah, selling that cheap stuff is how this town survives. You can get anything from a sombrero to a plaster statue of the Virgin Mary. Everything is cheaply made, but they ask for way more than it is worth. Then they let you bargain with them, so you think you are getting a great deal, when, in fact, you are still paying more than it is worth. If you would like, we can stop on our way back.”

  Betty said, “Yes, I’d like to take a look, and maybe a few pictures.”

  The further east they drove through the city, the more poverty they saw. The houses were mainly shacks, and you couldn’t see any sidewalks, just dirt paths. When the rows of ramshackle dwellings finally ended, the pavement gave way to a bone jarring dirt road, and the passengers could see nothing but waves of brown dust cresting above their window line.