Riverside's Perfect Murder

Meet Joe

"Please, Joe, call me Rita, and by all means yes speak."

"It doesn't add up," Joe said.

Rita looked at Joe and frowned.

"I mean if it is a bank robbery why not make everyone lie down? Take their cell phones. Tell them to get in the vault. They are saying the man got a little over thirteen thousand. Why kill the security guard? I mean take his gun, okay, but kill him after he was already on the floor bleeding? Sure looks like a precision operation. He hits the bank, is only in here maybe five minutes, leaves without a car and disappears. It doesn't add up."

"Well, Joe, what do you think it was, if not a robbery?"

"If I were a betting man, I would say a hit. I think the guard was the target the whole time. I don't think this was a street punk looking for a quick score; it was more like a military operation."

That's it, Rita thought. That's what's been bothering me.

"You came up with all that on your own?"

"Yes ma'am, err, I mean Rita."

"Joe, I am going to request you be assigned to this case officially. Would that be all right with you?"

"Sure if you can clear it with the captain."

Rita took out her phone, punched a button, and walked to the other side of the lobby. When she hung up, Rita said, "Done. Frank, I want you to go over to Norton Street and see what images they have of this area on the CCTV network. Start before eight-thirty this morning and work up to eleven. Find me an image of this guy, coming or going. See where he went, how he got away. Find him. Take the car. I will ride with Joe."

"Come on, Joe; you can drive me to the victim's house. Tom gave me the address. We can notify the next of kin."

Ten minutes later, they arrived at Dave Wilkes last known address. It was a run-down single- family home in a poor neighborhood. The yard needed mowing, the paint was peeling off the side of the house, and it looked like a new roof was in order.

They sat in the squad car for a minute taking in the neighborhood before Rita said, "OK, let's do this. I hate this part of the job, but it has to happen." As they got out of the car, Rita asked, "Ever done this before Joe?"

"Twice but it was car accidents both times. First time for a killing."

Rita said, "Let's keep the hit idea quiet for now."

Joe nodded.

Rita pushed open the small rusty gate that "protected" the sidewalk and walked up to the front door. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. She heard some rattling of what sounded like dishes and then the door opened.

"Hello? What can I do for you?" said a woman in her late twenties but the bruises on her face and the large black eye spoke volumes. Rita looked at Joe before speaking.

"Hello, Mrs. Wilkes?"

"Yes, what's this about, officers. Did the neighbors call you again? Nothing happened I fell that's all. Tell them to mind their own business."

"Mrs. Wilkes. I am Detective Rita Rawlins, and this is Officer Joe Powell. May we come in for a minute?"

"Why? What do you want? Maybe I should call Dave?"

"Mrs. Wilkes, Dave is dead. He was killed at the bank this morning. May we come in?"

There was no response. Rita wondered if she had heard anything. "Mrs. Wilkes?"

"Yes? What? Oh yes, come in."

Rita noticed that she was holding her arm close to her body and not breathing well but not crying either. When Mrs. Wilkes turned to show them to the family room couch, Rita got a good look at her face. Ugly bruises. Fresh. A day or two tops.

When everyone was seated, Rita noticed that Joe was taking everything in and looking around the room without turning his head. A real pro, she thought. Why wasn't he a detective? "Mrs. Wilkes, I am very sorry about the loss of your husband. Do you have anyone we can contact for you?"

"No. And please call me Rose. You said he died this morning. I thought he was working this morning? At the bank."

"Yes, he was. There was a robbery at the bank, and in the process, your husband died. Again, I am very sorry. Are you sure you wouldn't like me to contact someone?"

"A robbery? Someone robbed the bank?" Rose mumbled and looked lost.

"Yes," Rita said but noticed when Rose took a deep breath she almost cried out in pain — broken rib or ribs for sure. Who did this to her? Rita wondered but thought she already knew the answer. "Rose, if there is any information we need or questions is it alright if we come back to see you?"

Rose looked up at Rita and then at Joe perhaps seeing each for the first time. "Yes, of course. Can I ask, why did they shoot Dave?"

"We don't know yet. Perhaps it was only because your husband tried to do his job. I aim to find out though."

Rita turned to Joe. "Can you go out and see if I left my notepad in the car please?"

Joe could see the notepad in her pocket but said nothing. He got up and walked out the door.

He's a good man, Rita thought, watching him leave.

After Joe had left, Rita quietly said, "You need to get those ribs looked at."

For the first time since Rita got here tears were forming in Rose's eyes. She said quietly, "I can't afford it."

"Has it been going on long?"

"A few years. It didn't start when we were first married but about a year in Dave started getting rougher and rougher. He began to drink more and more. He was an angry drunk. Detective, what am I going to do now?"

"I'm sorry," Rita said. "My advice is to take one day at a time."

"I feel lost. I stopped loving Dave long ago, but he was still my husband."

Rita nodded and took out one of her cards. On the back, she wrote a phone number and a small phrase. "Rose, call this number. His name is Dr. Olsen. Give him this card, and there will be no charge and no questions. I promise."

Rose looked at Rita but didn't take the card right away. Rita extended her arm a little further and said, "It's ok; please call him."

Rose took the card and looked at the back. Besides the number, Rita had written the words, "Doc. Now we are even. Thanks."

Rita stood, "Good luck Mrs. Wilkes."

Rose got up and escorted Rita to the door but didn't say anything except, "Goodbye Detective."

Joe was sitting in the passenger seat when Rita got in. How did he know I wanted to drive? She looked at him when she got inside but said nothing.

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