Authors: K. J. Cazel
Identity (2 page)
“Ciao.”
“Naldo, did you receive my package?”
“Si. I have found a woman that has the same coloring and body type that you described. She rented the car last night. I paid her well to drive the rental from Roma to Napoli. Today she will take the car on the route that I have directed her to follow. Earlier, I packed the trunk with your wife’s suitcase. Then I cut the brake line. When she gets to the mountains, she will be no longer. The signora will be unable to stop and the car will fall down the cliff. I will follow to make sure the car catches fire.”
“Well done. I will see you after I identify the body. I have the three hundred Euros we agreed upon."
" Signore, you are mistaken. We agreed upon eight hundred euro."
"I...I'm sorry. You are correct. I will have your money ready when we meet."
Both disconnected the call without further comment.
Rodney returned to the entry hallway. In his mind, he reviewed the past few hours. Put everything back to “normal” to be ready for his wife’s return from her Italian shopping spree. He chuckled. Everything is working out. It was all about details, he thought.
By 4:00 a.m., he accomplished his work, down to the last detail. He replaced the broken statuette with one from the library bookshelf. Now he had time to catch a few hours of sleep before going to work.
Shortly before 9:00 a.m. Rodney arrived in the Robinson—Williams parking garage. He pulled his red Benz-SLR in the “Reserved” parking space next to the basement elevator door. He headed to the elevator while remotely locking his car. As he entered the elevator, several employees rushed through the parking lot in hurried steps. One man raised his arm indicating to Rodney to hold the door. In the elevator, the man looked at Rodney and gave him an acknowledging head bow. The young redheaded woman entered the elevator next and smiled as she gazed into Rodney’s icy blue eyes. He smiled back and thought, “Possibilities?” True to form, he never missed an opportunity to turn on his infectious smile.
“Floor?” She asked.
”Ten.” He watched as she pushed the seventh and tenth floor button; the man watched the encounter between the two and asked the woman to push 5. The elevator bell dinged as it stopped on the fifth floor. The man gave a whispered "have a good day" as he exited the elevator. The door closed, and the elevator started the climb to the seventh floor.
“Your position here?”
“Junior editor." She blushed as she replied, knowing full well whom she was talking to.
The elevator bell dinged and the woman broadly smiled and nodded her good-by. Rodney rode the elevator to the tenth floor and exited to the Executive Suites. Mrs. Green, his assistant, rushed to him saying her good morning simultaneously handing him several phone messages.
“Mrs. Green, let me know when my wife calls. She's returning tomorrow from Italy.’”
“Yes, Mr. Williams. Should I let her assistant know?”
“Certainly." He continued speaking to her in a professional manner. “I need to see the new releases and the book signing dates. Have the updates sent to my e-mail?”
Rodney entered his office and pulled the door close. When the door closed, he leaned against it and a wicked smiled beamed across his face. After a moment, he walked over to the window overlooking Lake Michigan. The grey clouds covered the sun trying to peak through the calm scene. He knew he would take Sarah’s office and have a complete view of the lakefront after the board meeting naming him CEO. He turned to sit down at his desk and opened his laptop. Eight e-mails. He opened each one knowing that he couldn't care less what it said. He had to be patient. How long was it going to take for the Italian police to notify him of “Sarah” death?
A new e-mail arrived. He saw that the sender was Mrs. Green so he opened it. As expected, it was the list of new release dates and the book singing. He saw that all the book signings were going to be at the Snyder bookstores. His manager had followed his directions. He only wanted to work with similar major bookstores. He loathed those little bookstores that Sarah loved. They were a pain in the ass. He couldn't care less if they went out of business. He reviewed the new releases first. There were 10 novels scheduled for November (2 were Christmas stories), 1 political book, 3 children books (excellent for Christmas presents), 1 economic book and a Christmas cookbook. The December list contained 5 self-help fitness books. The rereleases were the familiar children books just in time for gift giving. As CEO, he knew such trivial matters wouldn’t bother him.
Shortly after 10 a.m., Mrs. Green peaked in through the closed door to let him know there was an international call from Italy on Line 2.
Rodney took a deep breath and picked up the handset.
"Rodney Williams here."
“Signore Williams Investigatore Valentini in Roma.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Si. The signora was in an automobile accidente.”
Rodney interrupted him trying to feign concern. “Is she okay?”
“Signore Williams, I am saddened that she did not survive the crash.’’
Rodney remained silent and waited.
“Signore Williams are you there?”
“Yes, I’m sorry, I…don’t understand. Are you sure it’s my wife?”
“Si, signore. She rented the car last night using her credit card and passport.”
Again, Rodney paused before responding. “I’m coming to Rome.”
“Si, signore. We will want you to come and identify the body.”
“I’ll call you when I get there.”
“Ciao signore. I will see you soon.”
Rodney hung up the handset. He smiled, and then he put on his sad face, rubbing his eyes to bring on the effect of tears. He waited a few moments before getting up and opening his office door to talk to Mrs. Green.
Mrs. Green looked up from her computer as Rodney opened the door. She could see from the look on his face that something was terribly wrong. She waited for her boss to say something.
“That as the Italian Police Department. It seems that my wife has been in a deadly automobile accident.” He waited for her reaction.
"Mr. Williams how terrible," she spoke in a trembling voice.
Rodney enjoyed watching Mrs. Green's reaction to the news. Her hands were shaking as tears welled up in her eyes.
"Oh, Mr. Williams. What do you want me to do?” Mrs. Green asked trying to compose herself and act in more professional manner.
“Please book an evening flight to Rome. I’ll pick up the tickets at the airport. Call me at home with the information.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m going home. Call me on my cell with the flight info.” He turned his back and waited at the elevator door after pushing the down arrow button. When the elevator arrived, he stepped in and pushed the “Garage” button. Again, he smiled. By the time he reached the garage, the office grapevine would be fast at work.
He could always count on Mrs. Green’s efficiency. The company limousine arrived just after 6:00 p.m. to take him to the International Terminal for his 9:00 p.m. flight to Rome.
As the emergency vehicle drove up to the hospital, the flashing lights and siren were turned off. Sheriff Johnson's vehicle pulled directly behind it. When the vehicle stopped, the paramedics quickly exited the vehicle and removed the gurney to the waiting nurses and attendants who rushed to the vehicle. They ignored the cold wind enveloping their bodies. Everyone knew from the dispatches that this was a life and death situation for the victim.
Several male orderlies wheeled it to the first examining room. The nurses immediately setup the cardiac monitor equipment watching as the Emergency Room doctor gave a quick examine to identify all her visible injuries.
The flat line alarm buzzed. “Defibrillator! Step back! No results. Again! No results. Again!” The familiar soft beeping noise returned. “Give the IV 5 cc’s of Epinephrine. Let’s get her more stabilized and before we move her to x-ray. There is more we need to see.”
After several hours, the attending doctor greeted his old friend Sheriff Johnson outside the ICU.
“Doc Taylor.”
Trying to formalize the situation, Taylor responded, “Sheriff Johnson. Have you got anything that can help in her identification?”
“Haven't heard anything from the crime scene yet."
"Would you like to hear her injuries?"
"If you can?"
Taylor looked down at his clipboard.
“Before we go into the list, here are the pictures we took when she was admitted. It will help you when I discuss the list of injuries. Starting from the top. She has had blunt force trauma to the back of the head. We have cleaned and stitched the wound, but because of the blood in the hair along with the various insects, we have shaved the head. She has suffered multiple cuts and bruises on her cheeks along with a recent black eye. Those cuts, too, have been stitched. This is a baggie that contains pieces of glasses that were cleaned from the wounds. Continuing. She has a broken nose that, for the present, has been taped. She will need further surgeries. Next, she has had both her shoulders dislocated. Corrected. The x-ray revealed two cracked ribs that which we have bound. Finally, we have set the broken right leg. In addition, there are numerous insect bites over her entire body. There is recent bruising along with the previous bruising on the body. Those bruises were inflicted, based on their discoloration, about three to five days ago. Of coarse, that didn't include hypothermia…if the freezing snow warnings were correct, she would have died.”
“Raped?”
“No signs were evident. She is unconscious. She will be in ICU until she is off the critical list. Do you want to see her?”
“No, it is not necessary right now. Doc, a local reporter got a call on this and wants to know the status of our victim. This is a case of attempted murder. Whoever is out there I’m sure the perpetrator won’t stop trying. There isn't any evidence linking someone to the assault. Can you just tell the reporter she died?”
“That is highly unusual for us to lie to the press; but, technically, she did die…for a very short time.”
“Thank you. I am sure this will help if we obtain any evidence.”
“Sheriff, do we have any idea who this woman is?”
“We're reviewing all the State Police missing persons reports to see whether she match any the description. The closest we came is a thirty-one year old woman from Chicago. The detective on the case is driving down. I said it wasn’t necessary. But, it appears that the officer has a personal interest in the case.”
“I’ll notify the front desk. I’ll meet with him when he arrives. Now, if you will excuse me.”
“Certainly. I'll let you know if we find anything out."
Detective Cassell headed down I-55 to Memorial after his shift. He had high hopes that unidentified woman was his sister who had been missing for the past several weeks. He drove the speed limit keeping his eyes on the roadway watching for black ice. An hour and a half later he arrived at the Memorial reception desk.
“Detective Cassell, CPD, I ‘m here to see Doctor Taylor. He’s expecting me.”
“Have a seat. I’ll page him.”
After 20 minutes, Doctor Taylor came through the door.
“Detective Cassell, welcome to Memorial Hospital. Let’s go to the ICU to see our patient. I hope that this is the woman you are looking for.”
“Me, too.”
When they arrived outside at the patient’s ICU room, they both looked through the glass wall. IV bags with an IV tube were attached to the victims arm along with various monitors watching her vital statistics.
“Well, from here she doesn’t look like my sister. Height, yes, possible body weight yes, but body shape, I’m not sure. Is it possible to go in?”
“I’d rather you not. Is there something specific you wish to see?”
“If I could get a little closer. She’s pretty well covered up with bandages.”
“Okay, please put on this mask...only for a minute.”
Cassell entered the room. He looked down at Sarah. He could tell by the bandages and braces that this woman went through hell. In just short minute he left the room to join Doctor Taylor standing at the nurses' station.
“I’m sorry. This isn’t my sister.”
”That’s too bad. It would have been better to put a name to the face. I’ll notify the sheriff of your findings. Thank you for coming down.”
Tom Cassell drove back to Chicago. By now it was dark. The only light came from the full moon that was partially blocked by the clouds drifting in and out. The drive back to Chicago would have been made easier if passing vehicles' dense slushy spray kept blocking his vision. He knew he had to do something more for this poor woman.
DAILY GAZETTE
Tuesday, October 2, 2011
NAKED WOMAN FOUND OFF HIGHWAY 52