Good Morning Ted and Jody:
Yesterday the physical therapist came and walked Nancy through how to get in and out of bed by herself and how to get into a car. Consequently, last night she slept in the bed. After two weeks of having free run of the bedroom all night, the cat was dismayed to be ejected from the room when Nancy came to bed. Nancy won’t be getting in and out of a car very soon, but could if needed. The issue with car travel is getting in and out. Apparently, the motions required to do so can pop the newly place hip joint out of socket until the muscles and other “stuff” heals enough to properly hold the new joint in place. However, Nancy knew this going into this. The physical therapist says it will be about 6 weeks before she can drive. I get the impression that the pains she had from her defective hip are gone and the pain from recovering from surgery are continually getting weaker and weaker. So, I guess you could say, the operation is finally beginning to pay off.
We got one of those starlight lasers use to light up house without having to string lights. I set it up yesterday to light up the shed. The shed is the only thing on our property that easily can be seen from the road and we can see it from the house. Had I lit up the house, only the next-door neighbor could see the lights. This way we share with a broader audience. Of course, without the lights, at night, no one can tell there is a house back here. Perhaps, I should rethink advertising our presence to tax collectors, teenagers and other deviants.
I ordered a drone with a camera. For some time, I have lamented not being able to get myself up 10, 50 or even 100 feet to get some potential shots (the grass is always greener the higher one goes). I have had some drone failures in the past—toys that were unmanageable by me, but in the hands of a seven-year-old they worked just fine. I ordered this one as it has a take-off and landing button. Take offs and landings was the major source of my earlier failures. Well, it took a day to charge the batteries (3 batteries at 100 minutes each, interspersed with laundry, dishes, cooking, and other stuff). So yesterday, I attempted my first take-off and landing. The drone takes off to about 6-8 feet into the air, more or less just up. Then it moves about by direction of the remote controller. Of course, this is going to be a steep learning curve for me. It came down, on command, unfortunately, it came down on my back. I have got to learn to move. However, I suspect with another 100 hours or so of self-training I can become dangerous to other people, other than myself, that is. Now you figure 7 minutes of on activity (flight?) to a battery charge, three batteries and 100 minutes to charge each and it will be sometime in to the next decade before I master this sufficiently to actually take a photo with it. Did I mention it has a camera built in? In the meantime, I wonder if there is a “contents of home” insurance policy I can get to minimize the cost of learning to fly this thing?
In the meantime, I am attaching installment 16 in the still untitled Amanda Saga (Were this a Perry Mason story I suppose we could call it, at this point, the Case of Amanda and the Flying Judge).
Warmest regards, Ed
016 Beginning the Case Book
Fiction in 955 words by T. Edward Westen, 2016
‘You would think, by now, I could use a computerized case book like everyone else. I should have adapted. But, they aren’t very useful as working documents in a computer file. Besides, I do prefer to have things in a sequential binder. I guess I just like flipping through the pages.’ Thought Detective First Grade Mohamad Batan as he put prints of the late Judge Belemany lying in the ally shot from from eight different angles in the plastic see-through, notebook sleeves. “I imagine he won’t be very pretty when we get the corner’s 8X 10 glossies” he said to his partner.
Newly minted Detective Eddie Philipson nodded. “Is this what is called a murder book?”
Wherever did you hear that term?” Detective Batan asked.
“From a fictional detective, Harry Bosh.” Replied Detective Philipson.
“Well who ever created that detective must have researched it in LA. Here it is just a case book.” Detective Batan hesitated for a moment. “Besides, until the coroner gets done we won’t know it if is murder, suicide or accidental death.”
“What if Ms. Gunderson is right and he was trying to kill her?” Asked Detective Philipson.
“Accidental death during the commission of attempted murder, a felony.” Replied Detective Batan.
“You talked to that kid. What’s his involvement?” Asked Detective Philipson.
“From the cameras in this building, we know the kid got to the roof just seconds before SWATT. We know from his camera and cell phone he got to the alley about seven minutes after the Judge took a dive. So, he is in the clear. However, he referred to the Mrs. White case just like Edith Gunderson did. So, the Mrs. White child neglect case from 20 years ago figures in here some place.” Detective Batan paused, scratched his left shoulder where the harness for his gun wore his shirt a bit thin and then said “I guess we better find her and find out what the connection is.”
Detective Philipson released
Edith Gunderson. ‘I thought they only told you not to leave town in the movies. Besides where would I go.’ She was still a bit weak from sitting at the interrogation table chained like a common criminal. ‘That will teach me to keep my mouth shut when a cop yells freeze.’ It wasn’t until she got to the door to Child Protective Services that she noticed she did not have her keys. It was after hours and she couldn’t get in. ‘Damn. The cops must have them.’ So, she trudged back up to stairs to the desk sergeant to explain her predicament when, Detective Philipson came and handed them to her.
The detective looked embarrassed and explained, “We needed these to find the note you told us about. The note, is why we could release you.”
Edith Gunderson said “Thank you;” and started to walk away.
“Ms. Gunderson, why did the judge want to talk to you about the White case?” Asked Detective Philipson.
Mrs. Gunderson did not hesitate. She stopped and turned, “I called him because Mr. Eastman was asking about the White case. The Judge was on the bench for that one and if there was going to be trouble, I wanted him to know as soon as possible.”
“Why would there be trouble?” Asked Detective Philipson.
Ms. Gunderson shrugged her shoulders “When someone wants to know something from that far back they generally come directly to our offices or the orphanage. To be asking outside channels, especially if it is someone from the press, is a sign of something not being kosher.”
Detective Philipson said, “Thank you Mam. Good night.” He turned on his heal and made a dash for the elevator.
Brice Clarkton hung up the phone.
“We can see David the day after tomorrow.”
“Do we all go at the same time? “Asked Mrs. Anderson.
“Yes, that would be the most effective way to do it, but he will hypnotize each of you one at a time. He says it will either not happen or be over very quickly since we know what you need to remember.” Replied Brice Clarkton.
“What do you mean not happen? His wife asked.
Mrs. Anderson held up her finger. “Some people just can’t be hypnotized, dear.”
Judge Phillips looked at the detective
with a greater expression of puzzlement than Detective Batan had ever seen on a judge’s face in the 20 or so years he had been seeking search warrants. “You say his clerk won’t let you in the office without a warrant?”
Detective Batan nodded affirmatively.
“Who was Frank’s next of kin?” Judge Phillips asked.
“As you know his wife died seven years ago; and, his adopted daughter and her family live in California. Other than that, the late Judge Belemany has absolutely no family that we can find.” Detective Batan hesitated. “The corner identified his body saying ‘I’ve testified in his court often enough to be his brother-in-law.’”
Judge Phillips scratched his cheek below the ear and said, “So, since Edith Gunderson said someone tried to push her off the roof and since Frank is on the ground you conclude that he tried to murder Edith Gunderson; and you think there might be some evidence in his office?”
Detective Batan did not hesitate, “No, we are looking for some connection to a 20-year-old child neglect case involving Mrs. White; Naturally, we could find more old cases that relate, but the key seems to start with the White Case for which Judge Belemany presided.”
Judge Phillips bent over his desk and signed the warrant. “Happy hunting Detective. Any sensitive material comes through here and not the DA.”
Detective Batan suppressed the instinct to salute the Judge’s last order, but simply said “Yes, your honor.”