Revenge at Peters Gate

1

It’s only nine in the morning and my day is already ruined. Last year ended so well and then the pandemic hit. It’s amazing how fast things changed in just a couple of months. What did Dickens say in A Tale of Two Cities? Oh yeah, It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. That’s a great opening line for a novel, but not so wonderful to live through.

Turning my car into the Peters Gate neighborhood of Monterey, I smiled at the name. It always sounded to me like the entrance to heaven. Unfortunately, today, it was the site of a cold-blooded murder. I sighed and paused for a moment to look at the gathering group of neighbors standing in their bathrobes and jogging suits in front of a modest Monterey-style house. Ducking under the yellow police tape and walking up the red tile sidewalk that led to the two-story home, I saw several police officers and the coroner leaning over a body in the entryway.

Hi Doc. What can you tell me? Is it really the mayor?

Detective Brad Evans, it has been a while since we worked together! How have you been?

I’m doing well. Is this Mayor Robinson?

Sadly, it is. He was stabbed several times in the back and I am making an educated guess that the knife wound killed him. He has not gone into rigor, so I would say it happened in the last couple of hours. We did find a hair near him. I’ll take it back to the lab to analyze it. I will give you the final report after I do the autopsy.

Nodding my head, I crouched down and looked at the face of the Mayor of Monterey, Clive Robinson. I said a little prayer and gently placed a gloved hand on the mayor’s forehead. Standing up, I saw Officer Tom Kent. It was hard to miss him, even with everyone wearing face coverings against the Covid-19 virus; Tom was the tallest person on the force and the only African American.

Hey Tom, it’s good to see you back in action. I’m glad they finally released you for active duty. After the brain trauma you received last year, I was worried you might not come back.

Yeah, it’s good to be at work again. If I’d had to spend any more time on desk duty, I think I would have gone crazy, or as Susan says, crazier!

How is Susan? It seems like forever since we saw her. It has to be rough for medical professionals to deal with all these Covid cases. I know, Christina struggles with losing so many patients, so I imagine Sue feels the same.

Thanks for asking. She is doing alright. She tries to detach herself emotionally from the patients, but since they can’t have their families with them, it is hard to see them so alone when they are so seriously ill. The nurses are really heroes with the way they support the patients. The nurses see the patients much more than the doctors do. The patients who can still talk, share their fears and regrets with them. Susan can’t say enough about how much she admires their work.

Well, we aren’t here to chat. Looking at the body on the ground, I said, I can’t believe someone killed the mayor. He was so popular and had been mayor longer than anyone in the history of Monterey. Every time he ran for re-election, he was voted in by a huge majority. The townspeople loved him. What time did the report come in?

Judging by the wounds in his back, I’d guess not everyone loved him. We received a call about eight this morning. One of the neighbors went out to get the morning newspaper from his driveway and saw the mayor lying in his doorway. He went over to see if he was okay and realized he was dead. Then he called us. Uh oh, looks like you are needed over there. Tom nodded his head toward the tape where a rotund, red-faced, balding man, was arguing with an officer.

I turned around to see what Tom was talking about. I adjusted my facemask, walked over, and faced the unruly spectator. The officer stepped back, but stood nearby as if I might need some backup.

Hello, I said. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Detective Brad Evans from the Monterey Police and I am in charge of this case. May I ask you to put on a mask and tell me who you are?

"I am Vice Mayor Elton Melbe, he said, ignoring Brad’s outstretched hand, but putting on a facemask. Sergeant, I hear the mayor has been hurt. I want to see him."

I dropped my hand and wondered if the Vice Mayor refused to shake because of his pompous attitude or because he was adhering to the Covid-19 regulations about touching others.

"It’s Detective Evans, sir. I’m sorry, but you can’t do that. This is now a murder case. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to contaminate the scene, would you? "

Murder? You mean he is dead? Someone killed him? Mr. Melbe visibly shrunk in stature upon hearing the news. Why would anyone do that?"

That’s what we are going to find out. For now, I would just like you to answer some questions.

Why, do you think I had anything to do with this, Lieutenant?

"Detective. It’s just routine. Anyone close to the mayor will be interviewed for elimination purposes."

Taking a small notepad from my pocket, I asked, How did you hear that the mayor was dead?

One of the neighbors is a friend of mine, so he called me.

I’d like his name, please.

That’s him over there. His name is Dave Canas. He lives directly across the street. He found Clive spread out in the doorway. The Vice Mayor pointed at the mid-century-style home across the street. I looked where he was pointing and could see a middle-aged man, with his arm around a woman in her bathrobe, standing inside the front door of their home.

Where were you when you heard the news?

I was at home. I had just gotten up and was having my breakfast. You can verify that with my wife. When Dave called me, I immediately got dressed and came over.

Okay, I will check with your wife. What time would that have been? Do you know where Mrs. Robinson is?

I’m surprised you didn’t know that Mrs. Robinson is dead. She died a few years ago from breast cancer. It was terrible. She suffered so much; it was almost a blessing when she died. Clive was devastated. My wife, too. They were very close friends. Dave called me around 8:30 to tell me the bad news about Clive.

I remember now. Mayor Robinson was really beat up about her death. How about you? How did you feel when she died?

Of course, I was sad. One always asks oneself, ‘What if that was my wife?’ I didn’t know her as well as my wife, though. We would get together once in a while for dinner, but Clive and I would mostly talk to each other. The ladies talked, but I didn’t pay much attention. Betty, that’s my wife, could tell you more about her, but I don’t see how that is germane to his murder, Officer.

"Detective, I said again, gritting my teeth. Every little detail may lead to a clue that unravels the whole mystery. So, you got along well with Clive?"

Sure, everyone did. He was a great guy. He was quiet, but could also be very funny. Clive loved Monterey and took his job seriously. He was always worried about what was best for the citizens of Monterey.

How did you get along at work?

Fine. He never treated me as an inferior and always included me in decisions. Of course, he had his own way of doing things, and that didn’t always agree with how I thought the town should be run. But, there weren’t any problems between us.

Does Clive have any children? We will have to contact them.

He has a grown daughter who lives in San Francisco. My wife has her contact information. Would you like her to call?

That would be very kind. It would be better to hear it from someone she knows. However, I will have to talk to her, too. What is her name?

Her name is Ronnie, short for Veronica.

Is she married?

Not yet. She had some serious boyfriends, but nothing came of it.

Can you give my contact information to her? I handed a business card to the vice mayor.

If you think of anything, anything at all, that might help us, please call me at my number. Like I said before, even something that seems insignificant may be very important. We will also need a copy of your fingerprints, for elimination purposes. Can you come over to the station later?

Taking the card from Brad, the Vice Mayor said, No problem, our office is just across the street. Look, I’m sorry about how I acted before. I was out of line. I didn’t mean to be so pushy.

That’s okay. I’m sure this is all upsetting for you. Please tell your wife I will be checking in with her later. Women often notice things that men miss.

Seeing Dave Canas still on his front porch, I walked over and introduced myself to the couple.

Hello. I’m Detective Brad Evans. I was wondering if I can ask you a couple of questions? The Vice Mayor told me that you called him to say that the mayor was dead. What time was that?

Looking toward his wife, Dave answered, I saw Clive in the doorway around eight and went over to check on him. When I realized he was dead I called the police, didn’t I, Marsha? We called Elton after the police arrived. Since he will have to take over for the Mayor, I thought he would like to know right away.

Do you remember telling him that the mayor was dead?

I’m not sure. I remember telling him the police and an ambulance were there, but I don’t remember saying he was dead. I may have.

How did you know he was dead?

I checked his pulse and saw the big pool of blood under him. As a Medic in Vietnam, I saw enough bodies to know he was beyond saving. I didn’t do or touch anything else. I’ve watched enough police shows on TV to know not to mess up the scene.

That’s good. We’ll still have to take your fingerprints to differentiate them from any others we find. Did either of you see anyone unusual in the area that morning?

No, we were in the kitchen at the back of the house having breakfast. Unless there is a loud noise, we wouldn’t be looking toward the front yard.

"How about earlier? Anyone who doesn’t belong here or looked suspicious?

Dave looked at Marsha again and shrugged his shoulders. Not that I noticed. It is a pretty area with three parks nearby, so people often cut through here to go for their walks. They are mostly neighbors, but a lot of strangers. The dog walker goes by a couple of times a day. He may have seen something unusual. Now that everyone is wearing masks, it would be hard to tell who it was anyway. You think he was murdered? Who in the world would do such a terrible thing?

That’s what we are going to find out, Mrs. Canas…

Please call me Marsha.

Marsha, Elton Melbe said that you were very close to his wife. Can you tell me a little about her?

Why don’t you come inside? Would you like some coffee?

No coffee, thanks. I already had some this morning, but go ahead and have some if you want. We sat down at the round, wooden kitchen table while Marsha poured two cups of coffee and brought them over.

I can see why you like to eat out here. Your backyard is beautiful.

Thank you. Dave spends a lot of time keeping it that way.

Cradling the cup in her trembling hands, Marsha said, This is all such a shock. Joan and Clive were such wonderful friends and neighbors. I can’t believe they are both gone. Did you know Joan?

No, I’m afraid not.

She was tall, like Clive and very thin and elegant. Her posture was perfect and she moved with a certain grace and gentleness. Even though Clive was the power person in their marriage, she was awfully smart, too. Joan had been a lawyer before moving to Monterey. When Clive decided to run for office, she gave it all up to support him. She had a delightful way with people, was interested in everyone and was a talented organizer. Joan ran his campaign for him, even though she was still raising their daughter.

Marsha dabbed at her eyes and nose with a handkerchief. She was my closest friend. We told each other everything. She loved Clive deeply and was a wonderful wife and mother. She was never too busy for her family or a friend.

Did she ever share any problems in the marriage? Was there anything else she may have mentioned? How about their daughter? Was there a problem there?

I think they had a very good marriage. She never told me anything otherwise. On the contrary, she often said how lucky she was to have fallen in love with such a good man. The way they looked at each other and the way he would reach out and rub her shoulders or hold her hand sure looked like they had real affection for each other. Their relationship with their daughter was also good. Of course, there were a couple of teenage years when she rebelled a little, but overall, they loved each other.

Mr. Melbe said Joan was close to his wife, Betty. Did the three of you ever get together?

I’d say that Betty and Joan were more like acquaintances. They would talk when they had dinner together, but they weren’t close. Joan had a way of making everyone feel like they were her best friend. However, she did tell me that she got tired of Betty always talking about what an important man her husband was. Joan wasn’t one to gossip or speak ill of people, so she must have been really bothered for her to have said that much!

Well, thank you. That is very interesting. If you think of anything else, give me a call. Please stop by the department later to have your fingerprints taken. Here is my card with all my contact information.

You don’t think we would hurt him, do you?

We will be sweeping the house for fingerprints and we have to compare the ones that should be there with the ones that don’t belong. It’s just routine.

Walking back across the street, I saw the mayor’s body being loaded into the coroner’s van. The people who had gathered were straining to get a look at the body in the black bag. Many lowered their heads in respect for the good man whose life had ended so tragically. News people were also out in force. There were camera people and reporters by the police tape, trying to interview anyone who would talk to them. I was happy to see that the police would refuse to comment when a microphone was stuck in their faces.

Noticing a man straining to control several dogs, I approached him to see if he had seen anything relating to the mayor’s death.

Hello, I’m Detective Brad Evans of the Monterey Police Department. Is it safe to approach your dogs? Do you walk here often?

I’m Fred Wilson, I come by here every day. The dogs are safe. These two little guys wouldn’t hurt a fly. He nodded toward a beagle and standard poodle. Their bark is definitely bigger than their bite. The big dog belongs to the mayor. He looks mean, but he is a real sweet dog. Very loyal. I walk the mayor’s dog and several others from the area. Do you know what I should do with him?

The German shepherd?

Yes, his name is Pal. Fred leaned over to pet the dog and rubbed his head between the ears.

He is a striking. My sister has a German shepherd too. His name is Blaze. Can you keep him until his daughter gets into town? It should be only another day or so.

I’m afraid not. I’d love to, but I’m living in a little trailer without any yard for him to run in. I like dogs, but I like coming home and not cleaning up after them. It’s nice to have the freedom to move around without any worry about what to do with a pet. I get my dog fix by walking other people’s dogs. Wilson patted Pal’s head again and the dog leaned into his leg. Pal is a little confused. He knows he should be going home now; that’s his routine. The crowd of people are upsetting him, too. Dogs are very good at sensing the mood around them. He may also pick up on the scent of blood. He knows something is wrong.

I understand. I’ll see if my twin sister can take in another dog until Ms. Robinson gets here. I’d hate to send this beautiful boy to the SPCA. She’ll take good care of him. In the meantime, did you see anything unusual? What time did you pick up his dog?

I pick him up around six-thirty. He is the first one on my route, and then I go pick up these others. Then I reverse it on the way back and he is the first one to go home.

There wasn’t anything unusual this morning. The mayor met me at the front door and handed over the leash. He was fine then. That was around 6:30. The newspaper delivery drove by and threw the paper in the bushes, as usual. I picked it up and threw it on the porch. The lights in a few houses were starting to go on, but most of the people here are retired and don’t get up that early. The mayor likes me to pick Pal up early, before he goes to work.