Chapter 3
Bob Parsons paced back and forth in the living room. He was getting angrier as the time slipped by. She was already three hours later and this was an important dinner. She had never been late before without calling to explain why. He tried to think if he had done anything to piss her off in the past couple of days that would cause her to do this to him. He walked to the phone and called several of her friends to ask if they had seen her. None of them admitted to seeing her that day. He continued to pace the floor.
About eleven o'clock he decided that something was wrong and he'd better call the D.C. Police. He explained who he was and what the problem was and he was told that someone would be there in a matter of minutes. Within ten minutes two police cars pulled into his driveway and a lieutenant and a captain knocked on the door.
He explained that he and Maggie were supposed to go to dinner that night and she would never have been this late without calling.
"Senator," the captain asked, "I hate to ask such a question, but are you and Mrs. Parsons having any problems?"
"No, definitely not. And I don't mind you asking whatever question you feel you have to ask. I realize that you're only doing your job."
"Do you have any idea where Mrs. Parsons went this afternoon?"
He shook his head, "The maid said she went shopping, that's all I know. Her car is in the garage so I don't think she went shopping. The maid won't be in until tomorrow and I don't have any idea where she lives. My wife takes care of all that."
"Senator, we'll put out an APB for your wife immediately. We're going to station a uniformed policeman in front of your house in case this is something that we need to get involved in. Please call us if your wife comes home or if you get any strange phone calls."
"Captain, can this be kept quiet?"
"Senator, your committee appropriates the money for our salary. We know how to work with our government. No one will know anything about this if your wife is Ok. This is my card, call me if you need me for anything."
Bob Parsons sat down in his favorite chair in the living room and watched the clock. He occasionally got up and checked to see if the phone was working or to look outside to see if Maggie was walking up the sidewalk. He fell into a fitful sleep about three o'clock in the morning and woke back up at six. It took a minute for him to remember why he was sleeping in the living room still dressed in his suit. He got up and walked to the bedroom to see if Maggie was in bed.
For the first time, panic began to set in. He walked back downstairs and walked outside. The police car was still there in front of the house. He walked out to the police car. The policeman was writing on a paper in his clipboard and looked up as Senator Parsons neared the car. He rolled the window down.
"Have you heard anything from my wife?" he asked.
"They haven't told me anything Senator. Do you want me to call downtown?"
"No, I'll call from inside."
Bob Parsons walked back into the house and picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card that the captain had given him last night. The phone was answered and he was immediately transferred to someone else who told him that Detective Pulaski would be with him in a minute. It was about three minutes before Detective Pulaski came on the line.
"Senator Parsons, Detective Pulaski here. What can I do for you?"
"Have you heard any word about my wife?'
"No sir. We have an APB out but no one has heard a word. I'm sure that she's Ok sir. You know how women are. She's probably sitting somewhere, in a friend's house, stewing about something she feels that you've done wrong that you probably don't even know about. She'll be home this morning. I'm sure of it."
"I hope your right Detective Pulaski. Please let me know if you hear anything at all. I'm going to stay home until she calls or comes home."
"Sure thing Senator. We'll let you know right away. Now get some rest. Like I said, she'll be home this morning."
Bob Parsons hung up and sat down in his chair. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes to think. Within a minute the exhaustion set in and he fell asleep.
Detective Pulaski looked at the phone then turned to his partner, "I guess the Senator's wife is getting a little strange stuff and don't want to come home."
They both chuckled and went back to their paperwork.
About ten o'clock, the Secretary of State called Ron Toomey's office again and asked if he was in yet. Ron's secretary told him that Ron hadn't come in or called and that they had been trying to call his house but the phone was busy. She added that he didn't answer his cell phone either.
"Damn it, Hannah. Get someone over to his house and tell him to get in here. The Ambassador of Namibia is going to be here to talk about his African trip next week and I need him here at that meeting."
The secretary told him that she would get his address and go over to Ron's house right away. She got up from the desk with a smile on her lips. Good, a chance to get out of the office for a while. Hannah found his address and pulled up a map on the Internet showing the most direct route to his house. She checked out a GSA car and started the short drive to Ron Toomey's house. The traffic was heavy and it took her a hour to get to Ron Toomey's house.
When she pulled in front of the house she couldn't tell if he was home or not. She got out of the car and walked to the front door and rang the doorbell. She heard the doorbell chiming. No one answered so she rang the doorbell again and waited for an answer.
Hannah figured that he wasn't home and walked back to her car. When she started to get back into the car she happened to notice a car in the back yard. She had never seen Ron's car so she had no idea if it was his car or not. She walked around to the back yard, figuring to ask whoever owned the car if they knew where Ron was.
She put her hand on the hood of the car and felt that it was cold. Apparently the car hadn't been used in a while. She stood by the car for a minute trying to decide what to do. She walked to the back door to knock on the door and ask whoever owned the car if they had seen Ron. As she neared the door, she noticed that the door was open about two inches. She stood in front of the door trying to make up her mind if she should push the door open and holler out or if she should just go back to the office.
The wind pushed the door open an inch or two more and she put her hand on the door and pushed it open. She called out to see if there was anyone in the house but didn't receive an answer. She started to walk into the kitchen of the house, calling out Ron's name. Hannah stopped when she got a look inside the house. The house had been ransacked and there was furniture upside down and drawers pulled out and the contents strewn all over the floor.
She called out for Ron again and listened for any sound. She heard the squalling of a phone that had been left off of the hook. As she walked through the house she heard that the sound was coming from upstairs. She called Ron's name before she began to slowly climb the stairs. As she walked up the stairs the sound of the phone began to get louder. At the top of the stairs she paused to determine what room the sound was coming from. She headed for the room where the sound came from.
Hannah walked through the door and stopped in her tracks. She put her hand to her mouth and tried to scream but no sound would come out. She couldn't even breathe and she began to get light headed. Finally her legs turned to water and she slid down the doorjamb and sat on the floor. After a minute her breathing returned to normal and she struggled to get back on her feet. She began to fear that whoever did this was still in the house and turned and ran down the stairs. She ran through the house and out into the back yard of the house.
She leaned against the car and tried to think. No one had tried to stop her from running out of the house and no one was coming out of the house now, so the people that had killed that woman and Ron were probably gone. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911. She screamed the story of what she had seen to the dispatcher and gave the address of the house after the dispatcher asked for it several times. After she hung up she walked back around to the front of the house where she felt safer.
Within minutes the street in front of the house was filled with police cars. The police secured the crime scene after ascertaining that the victims were both dead and called in the homicide detectives. Detective Pulaski and his partner, Detective Simms arrived and began to survey the crime scene, being careful to not disturb anything before the crime scene crew got a chance to process the scene.
While the detectives were looking around in the bedroom, Denny Murphy walked toward the house. As he approached the young policeman guarding the front door, he reached in his pocket and pulled out his badge and started to hang it on his jacket pocket. The young policeman nodded to him as he walked into the house. Murphy smiled, it worked again. The young ones rarely looked at the badge. Murphy had it made to look like a detective's badge if you didn't look at it close. The badge clearly said PRESS on it, so he wasn't trying to pass himself off as a cop. If wasn't Murphy's fault if the cop didn't ask him to move his hand so that he could see the badge clearly.
Denny Murphy had heard the police report on his scanner and decided to take a quick look. Murders were not that uncommon in D.C. and he was sure that this was another drug murder, but he decided to check it out anyway. His real hot stories had been few and far between lately and he needed something good.
Murphy stood in the doorway just out of sight of Pulaski and Simms. He saw the bodies and pulled out his tiny digital camera and started to take a few picture of the victims. He knew that if the paper decided to use them that they'd have to blur the private parts.
"I think this lady was raped by more than one person," Pulaski said, "Look at the amount of semen. Either the guy had the biggest balls in history or there was more than one person."
"Do you have an identity on the victims?" Simms asked.
Pulaski reached into the pair of pants on the floor and pulled out the man's wallet, "His name is Ronald Toomey of this address, so I guess he's the owner of the house. Damn, he's got a State Department ID. We'd better call them. They'll want to get a team here to check to see if there are any sensitive papers in the house."
"What about the woman?"
Pulaski started looking around the room. He picked up the gym bag and opened it. He found a woman's wallet and opened it and pulled out a driver's license.
"Oh my god. Margaret Parsons. This is Senator Parsons's wife. Damn. This case will become a real hot potato. I wish someone else had been given this one. The press will be all over this in a heartbeat."
Simms shook his head and started checking the closets in the bedroom, "I think this case just got stickier. There's some women's clothes in here and they look like they're the same size as the victim. It looks like they might have been having an affair. I wonder if the Senator knew about this?"
The crime scene crew came up the stairs and when they got to the door one of them asked Murphy to move so they could get in. Pulaski turned and saw Murphy standing in the doorway to the bedroom.
"Murphy get the fuck out of here. This is a crime scene, you know you shouldn't be here."
"I haven't touched anything," Murphy said with a grin.
Pulaski walked to the door; "Out Murphy or I'm going to throw you out of the fucking window."
Denny Murphy smiled and walked back down the stairs with the digital camera palmed in his hand. He walked out on the sidewalk and stood waiting for the official police briefing on the shooting. After about an hour Pulaski came out of the house and told the reporters that had gathered in front of the house that two persons had been shot inside of the house by persons unknown and that the victims identities would be released pending notification of next of kin. There were a few questions, that Pulaski ignored, and then the reporters went to file their report. Murphy knew that he had his hot story for this year and maybe for the next couple of years. He walked back to his car and headed for the newspaper office.
Murphy walked past his desk and walked into the office of the editor.
"I'm busy Murphy," Ed Stowe growled.
"Not too busy for this one, Ed. This one we're going to have to talk about. This might even be too hot for this paper. I might have to sell this to the National Inquirer."
Ed's ears perked up, "What you got Murph?"
Murphy grinned. No one called him Murph unless they wanted something.
"A man and a woman were shot in a house over on upper Sixteenth."
"So what," Ed snapped.
"Well, the woman is Senator Parsons wife and the man was the Assistant Secretary for African Affairs. I interviewed him last week. This guy was going to go places at State. It looks like the Senator's wife and the Assistant Secretary were having an affair. A bunch of her clothes were in his closet."
Ed leaned forward in his chair, obviously interested, "Can we prove any of this?"
Murphy slid his camera across the desk, "Would pictures be enough proof."
Ed Stowe snatched the camera and called out a name. A man came running over to him and Ed said something to him and the man ran to his desk and hooked the camera to his computer.
Murphy gave Ed everything that he had on the murders while they waited for the pictures to be printed. Ed was always amazed that Murphy could get inside places that he shouldn't. Murphy never told anyone his secrets such as his badge. He was getting a little old to be running the streets chasing stories and he wanted to get a desk job like Ed.
The young man that was printing out the pictures brought the pictures back into Ed's office and dropped them on the desk. He waited for a minute and Ed waved him back to his desk.
"Damn, Murphy. These are good! You can even see the woman's clothes hanging in the closet. Let's go over the story again. I want to run with this in tonight's edition."
"With my byline of course."
"Yeh, Yeh Murphy. Until I say otherwise, this is your only story. I want to know everything there is to know about those two. We have to make sure that everything is factual. This could result in a massive lawsuit if we're wrong."
Ed looked at the pictures again, "Damn, The Senator's wife having an affair with a black man."
Ed looked at Murphy sternly, "That stays in this office for right now. We know that her clothes are in the closet, but we can't prove they were having an affair yet. We'll print only what we know and let the readers draw their own conclusions.
Ed smiled at Murphy. This was the type of story that made working in
Washington, D.C. fun.