Kind of Heartbreaking
Previously: The team pays a visit to Charlie Dagonet to find out about the rumors of drugs at the Halloween party.
3:50 PM - Saturday, November 1, 2014
Presidio Heights, San Francisco
Paco, Mark, and Jeannie exited the Dagonet mansion and made their way to the car in silence. Paco couldn’t believe what he’d just seen in the last hour. The opulent house that was like a museum, the kid full of attitude, the French girl… Mark looked like he was having the same thought. Jeannie even looked a little dazed.
Jeannie got in the back seat and quickly slammed the door shut, laying down full across the back seat. Paco and Mark looked at her as they got in.
“I’m dizzy.” She confessed weakly.
“I don’t blame you,” Mark said, “that must have taken a lot…” Jeannie was trying to breathe.
“Are you gonna be okay?” Paco asked.
“I just…I just…God I want to scream.” She said, yelling. “Can you turn on the air conditioning please?” She then asked meekly. Paco turned on the fan to the back. “What a jerk!” Jeannie yelled. “Sorry.” She followed up remorsefully. “I kind of feel sorry for him.” That hung in the air for a minute. “I mean, can you imagine? Your mother goes to fashion week and hasn’t been back?” Paco had no idea what fashion week meant, or why it was a big deal. Jeannie started counting on her fingers. “I mean, fashion week is in September. SEPTEMBER! It’s November as of today! Who does that to their child? No wonder he’s a piece of work.” She sighed again. “And the FLOWERS! That was a couple grand in flowers and the parents aren’t even around.”
“That doctor being there was interesting…” Mark said. “No wonder he took so long to answer the door.” Jeannie made a disgusted huff from behind them. Her mood seemed to be wavering between anger and timidity.
“A kid calling a private doctor for a stomach ache? I cannot…” Jeannie said with contempt. Paco heard her audibly exhale.
“He made a good coffee.” Mark finished.
“Yeah, I’ll give him that. That coffee was great.” Paco said. “Jeannie, you’ve been there before?” Paco asked her, looking in the rearview to an empty back seat.
“No. I’ve never been in there. That was a bluff.” Jeannie said, “He fell for it.” Paco looked at Mark, who met his look with wide eyes. “It was good coffee. Just the way he made it told me everything.”
“What do you mean?” Paco asked, confused.
“He’s precise. Detailed. Look at his body - the way he moves, the Gucci pajamas.” So that’s what those were. Paco wouldn’t know Gucci in a Gucci store, but he could tell they were expensive. “He has an image of himself and it’s outwardly solid, but also kind of fragile.” Jeannie was thoughtful. “He’s arrogant and controlled.” She faded away for a minute, but Paco wanted her to keep going. Everything she said made sense, even if it wouldn’t have occurred to him. “But it’s like…it’s like no one is around to notice. It’s all kind of heart-breaking.”
“The Stanford thing matters to him.” Mark offered.
“Yeah. Probably looking forward to being out of that house.” Paco said.
“True. Or, he truly earned it with water polo and not parental influence. He let himself achieve something and this could take it away.” Jeannie said. “Makes me wonder…”
“Wonder what?” Mark ventured. Jeannie was quiet.
“Makes me wonder why he’d be linked to drug dealing.” Jeannie paused. “Something doesn’t add up. He was adamant that he didn’t bring any drugs, but knew who would have been interested in them. But he didn’t know anything about the Trick or Tito’s at all.”
“What does that tell you?” Paco asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know yet. What do you guys think?” Jeannie put out. They were all thoughtful for a moment. Paco heard Jeannie exhale again, realizing she was box-breathing to try to calm down.
“Where are we going?” Mark asked. The car was on but it hadn’t moved.
“Let’s head to my office and see what the team has.” Paco offered. Mark nodded. “He seemed legit to me,” Paco ventured, easing the car out slowly. “I don’t know why he’d lie. But then we’d have to ask why would Ryan tell us he had brought drugs?”
“Maybe it was rumor - maybe Ryan didn’t know for sure, like you thought.” Mark said.
“That’s a possibility.” Jeannie offered. “I don’t know. Charlie Dagonet is a bit of an enigma. He didn’t crack. And I don’t think he was lying either.”
“Yeah - but I think there’s something he isn’t telling us.” Paco added. “He was defensive.”
“Either Charlie’s lying or Ryan’s lying.” Jeannie put out. They all got quiet with their thoughts for a while.
“You’re really good at interviewing, Jeannie.” Mark offered quietly.
“Thanks. I want to puke.” Jeannie said from the back seat. “I had the same reaction after we spoke to Ryan. Why do you think I ran to the bathroom?” She sounded weird. “I just get this adrenaline rush and not in a good way. I know it’s part of the job, but I hate bending the truth to get to the truth, you know?”
Paco wondered how someone could be so confident and sophisticated in an interview and then have a moral dilemma about it afterward. Not just a moral dilemma, but one with physical symptoms.
“Think of it as acting.” Mark offered. Jeannie tried taking a deep breath. “It’s the core of the investigative interview - like a game of poker.”
“Well, then I need acting classes.” Paco thought she sounded like a little girl. “And I’m terrible at poker.”
“We can fix that.” Mark said. “Any cards at the office, Pac?” Paco smiled a little. Very few people dared to call him Pac, even though he liked it.
“Of course.” He replied. Mark assessed him. “In my desk drawer.”
“You play?” Paco felt a slow smile cross his face. Jeannie chuckled from the back seat.
“Wasichu.” Jeannie said quietly.
“Total wasichu.” Paco said. Mark sighed.
“Okay, why now?”
“Man, what do you think native kids do on the Res on a Friday night? There’s nothing to do but cards. My first job was in a casino.” Paco laughed.
“Okay, fair.” Mark nodded. “You must be pretty good then.”
“Yeah, I hold my own.” He was enjoying Mark’s discomfort. Truth be told, he had been one of the Eagle Mountain Casino’s top poker dealers during his summer breaks from college. Granted, they only had three tables, so it wasn’t Las Vegas, but they got their share of good players and the tips helped him pay for school. But what Mark didn’t know was good for him. “You better Jeannie?”
Jeannie sat up, her face was pale. She immediately rolled down the window. “Better. I need a ginger ale, I think.” Paco saw her close her eyes while the wind filled her face. They were all quiet. Paco saw Mark studying the houses out the window.
“I can’t believe these houses. These are insane. Who lives here?” Mark said to no one.
“Would you believe this was all sand dunes once?” Jeannie offered.
“Sand dunes?” Mark asked. Paco knew the story but it still amazed him. It’s hard to square a full city where there used to be nothing but sand.
“This whole part of the city, from here to the beach was sand dunes.” Paco told him.
“Then when the city was rebuilding after the ‘06 earthquake, everyone moved out here. It was cheaper to build big houses here, so the bankers moved in.” Jeannie ventured, eyes still closed. “But now it’s investment bankers, and hedge fund managers, and private equity people, and venture capitalists.” Jeannie dropped her voice low to list off the titles in a funny way. “Technically, they’re all still bankers, they just have fancier titles.” She paused. “That and the tech people. But there’s probably still a few houses of old San Francisco money: The Dolbys, The Folgers, The Haas’, and of course Mark Benioff, but he’s not old.”
“Who are they?” Mark asked.
“Mark Benioff as in Salesforce? The Haas family owns Levis. They were also the initial philanthropists to start restoring The Presidio into a park 10 years ago - Crissy Field was once a disgusting airstrip. The Folgers are…well, ever heard of Folgers’ Coffee? And the Dolbys as in Dolby Surround Sound?”
“What about that Oracle guy - Ellison?” Paco asked. “Isn’t he here too?” Jeannie shook her head.
“Not too far. He’s over on Broadway with the Getty’s.”
“Jesus.” Mark said. “They all live here?”
“Yeah, they’re all local brands.” Jeannie said, matter-of-factly. “But now this tech money is taking over and people are buying two houses and joining them together - making McMansions all over this neighborhood.”
“At least they’re mostly environmentalists.” Paco offered. He saw Jeannie smile a little; she appreciated the dark joke.
“Wait Paco, pull over a sec.” Jeannie said. They were at the corner of Washington and Cherry. “Mark, do you see this stop sign?”
“Sure.”
“Well, right below it in that parking space the Zodiac1 murdered a cab driver - shot him in the head. It was late at night, but there were some kids up on the top floor of that house right there - “ Jeannie pointed to the big white house on the opposite corner, “who were looking out the window and saw the whole thing. Guy walked away right before the police showed up - they went right by him because the description given on the radio was wrong - the kids described him as white and dispatch said the suspect was Black. They didn’t even look at him twice. He’d cut a piece of the driver’s bloody shirt off and sent it to The Chronicle a few days later with one of his weird little notes.”
“Wow. Right here?”
“Yeah. In the safe, rich-people neighborhood.” She looked at Paco in the mirror. “Okay, story over.” Paco moved the car forward again down the block to where Washington ended at Arguello. They were all looking right at the gate of Presidio Terrace across the street, but no one said anything. He turned right to go up the hill and re-entered the Presidio. They passed Inspiration Point to see the parking lot was still closed off, with a Park Police SUV blocking the entrance. The road curved away into the forest and they continued down the hill to the office.
The Zodiac Killer is the pseudonym of an unidentified serial killer who operated in Northern California in the late 1960s. One of the most famous unsolved murder cases in American history, it has become a fixture of popular culture. The Zodiac murdered five known victims in the San Francisco Bay Area between December 1968 and October 1969. He targeted young couples and a lone male cab driver.
On October 11, 1969, a white male passenger entered the taxi driven by Paul Stine at the intersection of Mason and Geary Streets (one block west from Union Square) in downtown San Francisco, requesting to be driven to Washington and Maple streets in Presidio Heights. For reasons unknown, Stine drove one block past Maple to Cherry Street. At approximately 9:55 p.m., the passenger shot Stine once in the head with a 9mm handgun, took his wallet and car keys, and tore away a section of his bloodstained shirt tail. Three teenagers across the street witnessed the incident and phoned the San Francisco Police Department (SFPD) while the crime was in progress. They observed the killer wiping the cab down before walking away toward the Presidio, one block to the north.