Evil Error (Arizona Homicide Files Book 3)

Book summary

"Evil Error" delves into the gripping 1953 case from the Arizona Homicide Files, marking the first recorded instance of 'mercy killing.' Accused of murdering his disabled daughter, a former policeman's tale unfolds with murky motives and a quest for the truth. Enter Gene McLain, a tenacious investigative reporter from the Arizona Republic. Risking his career, McLain relentlessly pursues the story, earning his stripes as a legendary journalist. Authored by Rena Winters, a seasoned Hollywood figure, this high-stakes thriller, rooted in a true story, celebrates the power of one individual's impact on justice.

Excerpt from Evil Error (Arizona Homicide Files Book 3)

ARIZONA REPUBLIC

Monday morning I rise early, shower and dress for the office. The drive in is slow as the whole world seems to begin moving in Phoenix on Monday mornings. Weekends are sleepy times but come Monday all activity resumes.

My desk is already loaded with messages taken over the weekend and early this morning. Just as I am reviewing them and making plans to return some of the calls, Specs Bonheim, my editor boss, appears in front of my desk and says, “I want to see you, McLain, right away in my office.” What now.

I disentangle myself from the desk as I shuffle the papers looking busy.

Entering Specs’s office I hear, “We got another one.”

“Another what?”

“This time the rapist went too far.”

“This girl is not a street walker/prostitute, just thirteen or fourteen years old. Possibly a runaway?”

“They found her body behind a small coffee shop, Louie’s, on Camelback Road.”

“Get down there, McLain.”

“Yes, sir. Right away.”

I grab my Nikon camera, a notepad, and depart for Camelback Street. It wasn’t hard to spot the location. Several police cars were already there and the ambulance, although it should have been the coroner’s wagon. Now the ambulance will have to make a special trip to the Phoenix coroner’s office instead of the local hospital.

The young girl was already dead. Probably had been dead since some time last night. Wonder why she was behind the stores in the alley, behind the coffee shop? I must check if she hung out in the coffee shop regularly. Maybe the rapist picked her up there. If so, he probably wasn’t too old as she would not have followed him out into the alley. That is, unless she was doing a sex act for money. Maybe real hard up and needed the cash to pay for food. Her shoes looked badly worn as if she had walked a long way. Perhaps she is not from the Phoenix area.

Note: To look into runways from areas outside of Phoenix. No obvious marks on the body other than red marks around her neck indicating strangulation. She didn’t put up a fight, perhaps death came unexpectedly and caught her by surprise. Did she know the guy? Assume it was a guy, women don’t usually strangle victims. She was small, hardly developed as she was only thirteen years old. Not yet developed as a woman. She would have been easy to strangle. He was either a young guy who she would go with, or an older man offering money and a pedophile who liked very young girls. Not a nice way to start the week. The messages on my desk will have to wait. This takes priority, as Specs said.

The girl was dressed conservatively, not showing her body off. She was wearing a yellow and blue plaid shirt and her yellow cotton exterior pants had been removed. She was probably raped or at least groped. Where were her under pants? Did the perp take them? I walk up and down the alley looking for something, a small pair of underpants or anything else that looks out of place. Nothing is to be found.

Note: Talk with the corner regarding if she was raped, semen, injuries, etc.

I talk with the police officer who was first on the scene early this morning. He said he always walks the alley to check to see if all the exterior doors to the shops are locked and to rouse any potential drunks who might be sleeping it off there over night before the shopkeepers come to work.

Note: Talk with some drunks in the area to see if they saw or heard anything.

Thanked the officer and continue my walk on down the alley. My search provided nothing of interest. No underwear. The guy took them with him is my guess.

Shops are starting to open, and the curious are descending on the crime scene wanting to know what happened.

I leave the area and let the police explain to the curious shop owners. I enter the coffee shop, look around, and find a cook just opening up in the rear area of the shop. A young man is cleaning up the floor in one of the restrooms. I ask him if he was working last night.

He says, “No. I only work the morning shift before attending school.”

Well, that rules him out. Proceed to the back of the store and corral the chef.

“Were you working last night?”

“Yes, why?”

“Did you see a young girl in a yellow outfit enter the coffee shop and perhaps order something?”

“Yeah, she sat in the corner booth for a very long time. Not sure what she was eating as the waitress would have taken her order. Think it was Sally working the evening shift last night.”

“When does she come in today?”

“Probably around noon. We try and close by 9PM at night.”

I give the chef my card and ask him to pass it along to Sally indicating that I will return later in the day to talk with her.

I drive a couple a blocks away where several of the drunks hang out: “Camp City’ as it is referred to near the park.

Park the car, get out, and walk around. Chat with several of the bums, drunks that call this area home. Continually asking if anyone of them was sleeping it off in the alley behind the Camelback coffee shop.

No response. Flash a five and at least they look at me. Repeat asking the question and no one responds. One guy said that his friend, Chuck, sometimes sleeps in the alley but he is not here right now to talk with. He goes up town to one of the major intersections and panhandles for money for booze. I ask him to describe this guy. Tall with a white beard. Not young. Probably sixty years old. Usually wearing camouflage clothing. Thank him and give him the five. The others look like they want to kill him. A five is big dough to these guys.

I drive over to Apache Junction where I find Chuck working the corner. Stop and get out of my car and walk towards him. He seems like he wants to bolt. I explain I am not a cop and don’t care what he is doing hustling money on the street corner. He stands cautious, still waiting to hear my pitch. I don’t approach too close as I fear he may run. Looks scared for some reason. I inquire if he was sleeping in the back alley on Camelback behind the coffee shop and local business last night.

He looks confused and says, “Yes.”

“What time approximately did you go to that area to sleep it off?”

“Probably around midnight. I don’t own no watch. That’s when I ran out of money at the Black Jack bar for drinks.”

Pretty sure this lets him out of the picture. Thank him and go on down the street onto the Black Jack bar.

The bartender looks at me kind of crazy.

“Yeah, he knows Chuck, the bum.”

It just happened his night bartender called in sick so he pulled a double shift.

“Yeah, Chuck was in. What’s it to you?”

I explain about the homicide back of the Camelback coffee shop and he says he doesn’t think Chuck would do something like that. Seems like a nice guy, but an alcoholic. Drinks too much. He left the bar around 12 AM just barely walking. He had used all his money for liquor and no food. The bartender says he doesn’t think Chuck made it very far in that condition. Probably just slept it off somewhere.