Chapter 38

 

Fred continued to have a bad feeling about Ford. The meeting had been too pat; Fred wondered if somehow Ford had suspected him to be a cop.

When Fred got back to his office, he directed that 24 hour surveillance be put on Ford. If the chief found out about this, he would never understand that the reason for the questionable use of manpower was only because Fred had a bad feeling about Ford. 

His secretary rang him and said a neighbor of his had called him twice and it seemed rather important. Fred called the number given him. It was Joseph Cohen, his next door neighbor. Fred said, “Hi, Joe, how can I help you?”

Cohen said, “Perhaps it’s me that can help you! I wanted you to know that a small Ford Focus had gone past your house about ten times last night. Bessie and I were sitting on the front porch but we couldn’t see who was in the car. After a while someone parked the same car next to your front curb and tried your front door. When you didn’t answer they left. But they came back about an hour later and again tried your door. I called your home but got no answer. Then I called the police station and they said you had left for the day.”

Fred said, “Joe, I was exhausted and spent the night in a motel. Maureen is out of town. Did you get the license plate number, or did you see who it was?”

“You know that at mine and Bessie’s age, we can’t see more than ten feet in front of us. But I did use my binoculars to try to read the plate; but in the darkness I could only get a part of it.” Joe read the partial number to Fred.

“Thanks, Joe, I appreciate the information.” He hung up. Fred had always considered Joe and Bessie nosey busybodies but at this moment he was very happy they were.

After he phoned the Tampa police and was informed they had no leads into Maureen’s disappearance, he immediately put a trace on the license plate number. With a complete plate number he would have detailed information back in a matter of minutes; but with a significant segment missing, it would take much longer and the number of hits might be extensive.

* * *

A large green car was parked on a dead end street near the Sarasota-Bradenton Airport. The area was a notorious make-out spot for college kids from nearby New College. It was also used by parsimonious patrons who didn’t want to pay the expense of parking their car at the airport. As a result, property owners had continuously called the police to complain about non-residents parking on their streets. In this case an irate citizen, Bryson Brown, had called and noted that a large green car had parked there overnight. The officer getting the call had been alerted to the all-points concerning Fred’s missing wife. He asked Brown the make of the car. Brown said, “Who cares! Just get the damn thing towed away!”

The officer went to the scene and called in the license plate number. The call resulted in an immediate match with Maureen’s license plate identified in the all points bulletin. At that point he called his discovery into the station.

Fred spoke directly to the officer at the scene. “Good news!” Patrolman Lamb exuberantly relayed, “Very good news, I have found your wife’s car!”

Fred could feel the exuberance in Lamb’s voice, But Fred had ambivalent feelings. The fact that Lamb had omitted any mention of a body at the scene was good news, but the fact that the car had been abandoned was not. Abandoned cars used in a kidnapping often meant there was no further need for the car or the hostage.

When Fred arrived at the scene, he noticed that all of the car doors were locked. He used his set of spare keys to open the driver’s door, being careful not to leave his prints on any part of the car. The interior was immaculate; Maureen was a neatness fanatic. Fred had hoped that the kidnapper was not, but no clues were visible to the naked eye. In fact they found nothing whatsoever inside the car. Fred told Lamb to get prints on all parts of the car and at the same time take the prints of the all of the mechanics at Al’s garage on Gulf Gate Drive.

Officer Lamb asked, in some confusion, “Do you think they have a responsibility in this?”

Fred gently responded, “Not at all. But that’s the only place that Maureen ever had her car serviced. So, if we eliminate the prints of all of the people we know that have legitimate access to the car, what’s left may well be our kidnapper.

“My prints,” Fred said, “are of course on file at the station. Any others should be those of Maureen. If any additional prints turn up, other than the mechanics, we will have our suspect.”

Fred went to the trunk. Fred was not a procrastinator but he dreaded opening the trunk for fear of what he might find. The car had been parked at the end of the dead end street beyond city street lights, directly under two large live oak trees that cast strong, dark shadows on all objects that lay beneath them.

Fred slowly opened the trunk. Fred felt his heart beating at twice its normal pace. When she had bought the 1988 Ford Victoria, Maureen jokingly said the trunk was large enough to place three bodies in there, perhaps even four. Fred at this moment saw no humor in her jest.

When he opened the trunk, for some reason the light did not come on. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw a large object pressed tightly against the back of the trunk. With great trepidation he put his hand in and felt a light plastic covering. Something soft and giving lay beneath it. “Oh, God, no!” he screamed into the night!