Mind Switch (43 page)

Chapter 67

When Schultz picked up his phone, Fred was on the line.

“George, who in your company is left handed?”

 
Fred was following up on the results of the autopsy on Ford which had indicated that his killer was left-handed.

“Fred, you certainly seem to ask some off the wall questions. I don’t keep track of that statistic but I know who can help you. Dodd, the head of the Science Division, coordinated our annual softball game and picnic. In fact, he played for one of the teams. I am sure he would know because almost everyone that works for me goes out for the games, and Dodd would know how everybody bats.”

Dodd was more than helpful. He said the game was played back in early April of the year before. If he recalled correctly, there were a couple of people who batted left handed. One was Atwell, and the other Miss Black.

“Do you want to know their batting averages as well, Lieutenant?”

“No, thanks, not this time around.”

Fred started to hang up, but Dodd was not done. He said, “There was one other person, and I don’t know how I could have forgotten him. It was Mr. Schultz himself. I should have remembered, he hit two powerful pop-ups over my head and they both went for home runs.”

Chapter 68

Fred was thankful for a day off in the middle of the work week, and the next morning he decided to take a downtown stroll. His objective was to enjoy the remaining portion of the Christmas season and forget for 24 hours the murder cases that were causing him more confusion by the moment. Fred loved the atmosphere of Sarasota’s downtown business sector, and he liked to take a cathartic walk in that region whenever time permitted. After a few hours at work, he often needed the break to attempt to put his mind back together. This day he ambled into various shops, and enjoyed the festive holiday decorations hung from the downtown lampposts. He spent over an hour in the historic downtown book shop, browsing through books in each of their three floors. He systematically collected discount books from each floor; and when both arms were full, he headed to the front desk to pay. Each book was a fictional murder mystery. Interesting, Fred thought, I had no idea that’s what I was going to buy when I entered the store. Maybe my subconscious mind is seeking a solution to these crimes, from whatever source it might come from. On the way out he witnessed a rotund man dressed up in the full garb of a Santa suit holding a small child on his lap. It was obvious neither the child nor the man wanted to be there. The youngster was releasing his extended list of Christmas wants while the impostor was literally falling asleep during the process. Fred laughed out loud as he thought, what a terrible way to make a living, almost as bad as my job.

Fred continued down Main Street and greeted a friend with whom he often played tennis at the “Y”. Fred looked at his watch, finding it interesting that he had been unconsciously taking the same downtown route, at the same time that he took during his normal lunch hour breaks. Funny how habit tends to drive us, he thought. While he was talking, he casually looked over his shoulder and noticed a male figure headed toward him. The face, although blurred by distance, seemed remotely familiar. Fred continued talking to the man, going over the details of the last game they played, forgetting for a moment the approaching figure. As he spoke, he again glanced over his friend’s shoulder. The man was now less than thirty yards away, and his features were gradually becoming clearer.

My God, Fred thought, he looks very much like Mr. Ford. Fred started to yell to him and then realized it couldn’t be Ford; he is stone dead. Fred thought, this guy looks enough like Ford to be his twin brother. He apologized to his friend and abruptly ended the conversation moving swiftly in the direction of Ford’s look alike. When Fred closed within twenty yards, the man turned to his right and entered Pat’s Restaurant. Fred ran to catch up; as he entered the restaurant he encountered a hostess just inside the door.

“May I help you, sir?”

“Yes Miss, I would like to be seated at the same table as the man who just entered the restaurant.”

“I don’t understand, sir. You’re the first customer we’ve had in the last ten minutes; business is somewhat slow today.”

“That’s impossible. Have you been at this same spot for the last couple of minutes?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve been at this very same spot for the last hour.”

Fred was dumbfounded. Why would this woman lie about seeing Ford’s look alike?

“If you don’t mind, I would like to look for him myself.”

“Of course, be my guest.” The hostess turned to greet the next customer.

Fred quickly checked all the customers seated at the tables—no luck. He then looked into the men’s room, again no success. Finally, he entered the kitchen and was immediately confronted by a burly cook who in no uncertain terms told him the kitchen was off limits to all customers. Fred showed him his badge and asked if a man with a black goatee had just entered.

“No! I just said this kitchen is off limits to
all
customers!”

Fred asked if there was a back door. The cook pointed toward the back of the kitchen. There was a single grease-stained door leading to a back alley, where garbage and trash cans were strewn on both sides. The north side ended against a brick building with a single visible entrance from the alleyway; at the other end was Main Street. Fred looked at the only other door in the alley; it was padlocked from the outside. Fred checked behind the trash cans as he moved deliberately toward the street. Fred reached the sidewalk gazing at both sides of the street. There was no Mr. Ford in sight anywhere. Fred’s hands started to tremble. God, am I going crazy, he thought?

Although he had just found the chief to be a person he could trust, he didn’t not dare tell him what he thought he had just observed. Could it have been his vivid imagination playing insane tricks on him?

* * *

Later, in the comfort and isolation of his office, Fred phoned the Sarasota medical examiner. “Are you entirely sure that the DNA match you did for us was an exact match? Is there any chance, any chance whatsoever that you were wrong?”

“Without question, it was an exact DNA match. Lieutenant, there’s absolutely no doubt in this case.”

Fred rushed into Jim’s office. “Jim, please do me a favor. Check and see if Mr. Ford had any brothers. And if he does, please determine if any were twins or possibly a brother who looked very much like him.”

Jim said, “Sure, but I conducted a fairly comprehensive check of him already, so I’m quite sure there are no brothers. I’ll pull out the file, though. But just out of curiosity, why do you want to know?”

“Jim, I know you’ll think I am insane, but I just saw Ford or someone that looked exactly like him. I have to find out if he has a look-alike brother.”

At that moment another voice rang out. “Don’t you think it’s time to resign, Fred, and go back to your previous job? I know the stress you are experiencing, and we all are beginning to think it’s too much for you.”

Fred hadn’t noticed Paul standing in the corner of the room. Paul was out on bail. The chief had decided to let him go, based on Fred’s strong plea. Fred thought, Damn, I never would have said that if I had known he was in the room.

Fred’s face flushed with pent up anger. He thoroughly disliked Paul and that comment set him off. “Go to hell, Paul, and get out of my office—now!”

Paul held back a smirk, “Ok, but I’m just trying to do that which is best for you and the city.”

Jim responded, “Sorry, Fred, I should have warned you he was in the office.”

“It’s not your fault, Jim. I should have noticed him. Forget about him; please let me know what you find out about Ford.”

* * *

Fred was in his own office when Jim entered a few minutes later.

“Fred, I checked out the records. Ford was an only child.”

“I can’t believe it, Jim. Are you sure?”

“Yes, no doubt. Do you think it was just a look-alike that you saw?”

“No,” said Fred. “I’ve seen hundreds of celebrity impersonators over the years, and none of them could ever make me believe any of them was the real one. To make matters worse, this Ford, or whoever he was, seemed to disappear just after I saw him. I wish I knew what was going on.”

“Well, Fred, I’m your best friend but I don’t have any answer. You’re about the most down to earth person I have ever known. Do you think you might have been obsessively thinking of Ford and carried that thought into imagining that you saw him?”

“No, Jim, the only thing I was preoccupied with at the time was the thought of my recent victory in tennis. Believe me, Ford, or whoever he was, was as real to me as you are standing before me right now. Anyway, thanks for your help; I’ll take it from here.”

Just after Jim left the office, Fred’s hands began to shake violently. I have to calm down, he thought. Maybe if I can concentrate on my work, I can forget about this crazy vision I had.

Fred was dumbfounded. He knew he had seen Ford’s look alike; but the hostess and the cook told him no such person had been in the building. Could both of them be part of a plot? No, that was too off the wall to even think about.

Just then, Jim interrupted Fred’s chain of thought.

“One more thing, Fred, this apparently has nothing to do with anything; but it seems that Paul has some cutie on the side. It turns out he’s been dating her for the last two months. It’s very possible that he was with her for a little afternoon delight the day of the murders, and simply used a cover-up story. Of course, there’s no way I can check that out without his finding out what I’m doing.”

“That sounds entirely feasible, Jim. And by the way, we’re in the homicide business, not the vice squad; so let’s ignore Paul’s indiscretion. Please, just forget about it.”

This was Fred’s day off, and under no condition, did he want to run into the chief. He ducked out of the station’s back door and drove directly to AU. He knew Schultz was almost paranoid about his personal security; and he recalled Schultz had indicated that he had installed some video cameras on the exterior of his building. Perhaps they would show who shot at Schultz’s secretary.

As he entered the building, Donna greeted him immediately. “We have to stop seeing each other like this,” she smiled invitingly.

“Yes, it has been hard to concoct a murder investigation so that I have an excuse to see you,” he joked. “By the way, you were supposed to stay away from here until we find out about your attempted killer.”

“I know, but I have Don the security guard to watch over me. Anyway, what can I do for you?”

“Let me see the guy in charge of company security,” Fred said.

Mr. Ball is in charge of the overall policy for company security; our security guards are responsible for the actual operations.”

“Please call Mr. Ball, and tell him to meet me in your conference room.”

In less than a minute, Ball had joined Fred in the conference room. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

“Does this company have any outside security cameras?”

“Yes, we have one on each side of the building for a total of four. That way we obtain exceptional visibility on whatever happens in the front of the building as well as the entire parking lot in the back. For some reason that I don’t understand, Mr. Schultz wanted the cameras hidden from view. Normally, security cameras are in positioned in plain sight so they can function in part as a deterrent.”

“I want to see the videos which cover the parking area. I’m particularly interested in Tuesday’s video.”

“No problem. We keep all videos for three weeks before we record over them. That one should be in our security cabinet.”

Ball pulled the video and brought a VCR player into the conference room. Fred asked him to leave until he completed his viewing of the VCR.

Fred remembered that Donna said the gunshot had been fired after work, at approximately 5:35 p.m.. Fred felt he had finally obtained a break, the video had been programmed to display the time continuously in the upper right hand corner of the film. Fred advanced the tape forward to 4:30 p.m. in case Donna had been wrong about the time in which she left the building that day. At 4:45 Fred noted some personnel exiting early from the company. Interesting, Fred thought, Schultz had not been at the office for over two weeks; so while the cats away, those mice played. At 5 p.m., closing time for the office, there was a mass exodus. By 5:30 the parking lot was clear except for two cars. Fred continued to watch until 5:35, but at that point the film’s time jumped to 5:45. Fred called in Ball to question him why the time gap occurred.

Ball said, “I have no idea. I guess there must have been an operating problem in the video and the video simply displayed the incorrect time for some reason.”

Fred said, “No, I don’t think so. If you look at the video you will note an obvious jump in the picture as well as the time. The two cars that were in the parking lot at 5:35 have disappeared in the next frame. Critical frames have somehow been removed. Let’s do a double check; it’s getting dark about 5:45 these days, right?”

“Yeah, about that.”

“Ok I’ll reverse to 5:15. Notice that the parking lot is still light at that time. Now I fast forward to 5:30, see the parking lot is just starting to get dark. At 5:34 it is slightly darker; but in the next immediate frame the parking lot is totally dark. That means to me, part of the video has been cut out; or the camera for some reason stopped recording at 5:35, but started re-recording some few minutes afterward. I suspect that the interruption was a function of human intervention, not machine error. I need this tape to check it out more thoroughly. I have one question—where is the tape normally kept?”