Annie the Assasin

    Maggie is a busy working mother with three children living in a sleepy town in Maine. She struggles sometimes to get everyone where they need to go, volunteering at school, and coaching the basketball team. She is known in town for her blond hair flying as she rushes past and her blue eyes that pull you into conversation. Maggie makes a living writing children’s books; at least that is what everyone in town thinks. Only Maggie's husband Eric knows the truth; that in her younger days she was known as Annie the Assassin!

    The town in Maine that Maggie decided to move to was nicknamed Sleepytown, otherwise known as Wells, Maine.  Wells is midway between the coastal towns of Ogunquit and Kennebunkport. The Motel in the center of town was actually named The Sleepytown Motel.  Maggie picked this area for its beach front location, as she couldn't imagine living too far from her beloved ocean.  Wells has several of the finest white sand beaches in Maine.  The population was mostly lobstermen, lumberjacks, and simple folk who mind their own business...or so she thought.

    It was time for the 24TH Annual Harborfest in neighboring Ogunquit.  The kids were all looking forward to the Colonial costumes, and events, live music, ox roast, bean hole beans, lobster fest, and crafters from all over the country. The family had all been practicing for the corn toss challenge, and anticipating the spectacular fireworks on Saturday.

    Already partially covered by falling red leaves, the body was discovered slumped beside a sugar maple tree, his purple swollen face looked as if he had an allergic reaction to the seafood perhaps.  From the crowd that had gathered, a cell phone jingle broke the silence.  The coroner answered the call, as he was already standing by the body.  Having spent the last 20 years in this town, the coroner did not recognize that this was a murder scene.  He had never worked a murder scene, he had only read about it during college and seen it done on his favorite CSI tv shows.  He was used to heart attacks, and death by natural causes. 

    Salvatore "Fat Sally" rumbled into town on a Tuesday.  He was noticed immediately, in his larger than life Cadillac Escalade, and his slicked back salt and pepper hair.  He was here for retribution.  Fat Sally had been up and down the East Coast in search of clues to the whereabouts of his long time friend and protege', Annie the Assassin.  Annie went into hiding after turning to the Feds in the late 80's.  Gotti's crew had been looking for her since. 

    Not only was she key in the case that sunk John Gotti in 1992, she was also instrumental in winning convictions of Vittorio "Vic" Amuso, Vincent "The Chin" Gigante, and Victor "Little Vic" Orena, the respective leaders of the Luchese, Genovese and Colombo families.
 
    The first clue that made the coroner think this was in fact a murder was the blood droplets barely noticeable on the red leaves.  He didn't notice the blood until he saw red smeared on his white sneakers (he was more than a little peeved as these were his new sneakers) and searched for the source.  The dead man was not bleeding.  Frantic now because he had thought this was a death from natural causes, he struggled to secure the scene of the crime.  It was too late, as the crowd of people gathering had already trampled the perimeter of the area destroying most of the evidence and making it almost impossible to find the killer. 
 
    When the commotion first started, Maggie and her family headed for the car.  Wanting to get as far away from the dead man and the resulting investigation as possible. 
 
    They were stopped halfway to the parking lot with a big "HI THAR" by the sheriff, who had just gotten back from the pie eating contest and was splattered with the juice from many pies.  It was dripping down his chin, splattered on his shirt, he even had some in his white thinning hair.  Sheriff Joe wore his blue ribbon on his shirt with pride. 
 
    Once the evidence was gathered, the coroner called in the state police as was customary in any murder investigation.  The troopers swooped in, asking questions of everyone that was at the festival.  Who was this man?  How long was he in town?  Is he related to anyone?  What does he drive?  Suzy told them that he was at the diner a few days earlier asking questions and showing a photo of a woman with dark hair.  The town clerk mentioned that he had stopped in looking for property records for homes purchased in 1993.  After a thorough search of the escalade, they found a list of names, places, dates and several photos of a pretty, dark haired woman. 
   
    A week earlier, Maggie had immediately recognized Fat Sally as she walked past the diner.  She hurried past so he wouldn't get a close look at her, in spite of the changes she made to her hair color and eye color, she still thought he may be able to pick her out of a crowd.   
 
    Fat Sally sat at the diner chatting it up with Suzy, the too tall, too pretty waitress - Suzy seemed to be enjoying the attention (but that was how she made her tips for the day).  Sheriff Joe had his eye on Suzy since she moved into town a few years earlier.  He would go to the diner for his cup of joe several times a day.  In the afternoon Sheriff Joe would always have a slice of pie with his coffee.  The way Suzy would say "sliver, slab, or slice?" in her southern accent just made his liver quiver.  Sheriff Joe did not like the way Fat Sally had strategically placed his hand at the base of Suzy's back as they talked. 
   
    The state police detective Haggard, found that only one of the six homes in town that were purchased in 1993, had a woman close to the description and age of the woman in the photo.  He knocked at the door, and was greeted by a bubbly little brown haired girl.  "Mommy, there is a man here looking for you".  The detective had many questions for Maggie and Eric -- who had already discussed how to handle the interrogations.  They said they did not know the dead man.  They said they did not know the dark haired woman in the photo.  The answers came out in short, monotone sentences. 
 
    Maggie was worried.  Worried that all of this attention would reveal her true identity and ruin her peaceful existence.  As soon as the state police detective left, she and Eric started packing.  They would leave town, disappear in the middle of the night.  Move again, pick new names, re-invent themselves.  But how will they explain this to the kids.  Since the last time they had relocated, she had become a mother, a member of the PTA; she was in a sewing circle.  At first these activities were part of her cover, but now had become the fabric of her life.  She would miss her house, the big front porch.  She would miss her friends. Why did Fat Sally have to come here to die?  How had he found her?  Who killed him?  Would they be after her next?   
 
    Sheriff Joe was the first on the scene.  There was blood everywhere.  Lots of blood.       
     
    Each week Maggie and Eric had made a security deposit of sorts. The valuable investment was not difficult to spare, and it would ensure their safety in the event anything unfortunate happened.  Now it was time to make a withdrawal. 
   
    Eric went to the downstairs chest freezer, and removed 22 pints of frozen blood that they had been saving up over a period of a few years.  Eric was a nurse at the local hospital, and had gotten the needles, tubes, and other blood storage supplies from the hospital.  The "deposit" was thawed and ready in just a few hours. There had to be enough blood left behind to make the investigators believe that a horrific loss of life had occurred.  They had done some research on the subject from the local library's computer they googled "how much blood could a person lose before dying?" the answer was 4 pints.  Since there were 5 of them, they would need at least 20 pints of blood.  So for the last 4 years, Maggie and Eric had been storing a pint each every 6 months.  Each time, hoping they would never have to use their "safety deposit" 
 
    The sick feeling that started in the pit of Maggie's stomach when she first recognized Fat Sally at the diner, had now grown to a mass in her chest, making it difficult to breathe.  As she flung the blood on the ceiling and walls of her neat 100 year old farmhouse, she couldn't help but reflect on the family times they had shared under this roof.  Watching her children grow and learn.  Learn to walk, talk, and read under this roof. 
All the bumps, bruises, and occassional stitches along the way.  The time her son Tommy had fallen on the stairs and cut his lip.  There was alot of blood then.

    By the time the crime lab had collected all the samples and processed the "crime scene", Maggie and her family would be out of the country.  Crossing over the border into Canada and relaxing on the CAT ferry on their way to Nova Scotia.  It was a big adventure for the kids.  The advertisement for the ferry called it one of the world's "top 10 Super Ships".  They would drive the car right on the ferry and travel in style. Watch a movie, have some dinner and relax.  The relaxing part of the trip came hard for Maggie, she was constantly looking over her shoulder, and around every corner for someone trailing them.  She expected the worst to happen at any moment. 
 
      In spite of his inexperience processing crime scenes, the coronor did what he needed to do.  He collected evidence at the scene and used the State Police crime lab to process the results.  He suddenly liked using the word "stat".  Phrases like "I need the results, stat!" were never before used in this office, but he now found himself saying that to the crime lab several times in the last week.  It made him feel very CSI like.  He even went out and bought himself a new pair of sunglasses and practiced taking them off at the end of his sentences, like a punctuation mark. 
 
    The first results from the Fat Sally murder samples surprised him.  The droplets found at the scene were not blood after all, they were droplets of berry juice, and saliva.  He had to wait for the DNA results on the saliva, so he went about looking for more clues. Now he had examined the body once and found a nasty bump at the base of Mr. Salvatore Genovese's skull. He found what looked to be a blunt force trauma caused by being hit with something similar to a night stick, which is among the simplest of all weapons.  Now he went back to look for tool marks.  Had Fat Sally been hit from behind?  The coroner was slightly disappointed as he was hoping for something a little more dramatic.  This was simple.  Too simple.  But there was still a "who done it" to solve, so he was focused. 
 
    The DNA results came the next day.  They revealed a match with Sherrif Joe.  Detecive Haggard took Sherrif Joe to the interrogation room to question his whereabouts.  Why did you kill Mr. Genovese?  Are you involved with the mob?  Who are you working for?  The questions came fast and furious.  Sherrif Joe had never been under this much pressure.  Sure he did not like that fat man who died under the tree.  He had even cursed him under his breath as he witnessed Fat Sally cozy up to Suzy.  But he did not kill him.  He had never killed anyone in his life.  Even as "law enforcement" in this town, he always resolved issues with anecdote and food.  He would bring a pie to a domestic dispute.  It gave him an excuse to stop by and visit Suzy.  He was adamant that he did not kill Fat Sally. 
 
    On Thursday, the phone rang in the Cororer's office.  It was the State Police lab.  First they reported that they had found natural antibodies in Salvatore Genovese's blood samples.  They had also found some anomolies in the samples collected from the farm house. 
 
    Now, the antibodies usually involved in allergic rhinitis are called "immunoglobulin E". The State Police lab results read "IgE binds to receptors located on certain cells in the nasal lining called basophils and mast cells, which contain granules of a chemical called histamine. When IgE binds to these cells, they degranulate, releasing histamine. The released histamine latches onto nearby blood vessels, causing them to dilate. This resulted in swelling, redness, and inflammation.  A shellfish allergy caused anaphylaxis, a fatal allergic reaction that caused swelling throughout the body and a sudden drop in blood pressure. The throat and airways became constricted causing Salvatore Genovese to expire.