Murder Mystery Indianapolis
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On this day, a Monday in September, the streets of Indianapolis were quiet. The weather was cool with hints of autumn and not many people were out for the evening. A handful of joggers made their way along the riverfront trails or along the paths that followed the path of old railroads that had once run through the city.
In front of one of the new buildings being constructed on Massachusetts Avenue in downtown Indy, construction workers were busy pouring cement as they laid the foundation for a building that would be known as the Renaissance Tower.
The young executive who owned the company that was constructing the tower was excited about having the headquarters of his company located in the city center. He was also proud that he had purchased one of the largest office spaces in the entire state.
The architect and builder thought that it was fitting to name the building after its future owner, Richard Bancroft, so the decision was made to call it the Renaissance Tower. It would be a beautiful structure; three stories tall with an expansive glass-walled lobby and multiple floors of open meeting rooms and workstations designed for collaboration and teamwork.
There would be two conference rooms with a seating capacity of twelve hundred each and twenty boardrooms ranging from eight to sixty people in size. An outdoor patio area would allow for casual gatherings, coffee breaks, networking events, and even parties.
With the completion date scheduled for October of this year, it was a project that everyone at the company was looking forward to. The executive team already held numerous brainstorming sessions to select furniture for the interior and exterior areas where guests might sit and relax.
They discussed how lighting should be positioned throughout the property to provide the right balance of brightness and privacy, what types of food service they could offer during meetings, and which type of décor would best showcase art from local artists.
As if things couldn’t get any better for the executive team, they also decided that the company president, Richard Bancroft, would host an open house when the new building opened to the public. This was considered to be a great marketing tool for the company as well as a chance for Bancroft to interact with potential investors, business leaders, and members of the media.
People would learn about all the different aspects of his business, meet some of the other top executives of his organization, enjoy refreshments and appetizers during a cocktail reception, and perhaps take home a souvenir gift bag featuring various items donated by sponsors of the event.
It would be a fun time for all involved, including the press, but more importantly, a way for Bancroft to put his face and personality back into the forefront of the minds of those who worked for him or for whom he represented in some fashion. His presence at these functions was usually reserved for major holidays or important anniversaries or milestones in his company’s history.
The open house would be held on Saturday, October 6th, two weeks before the ribbon-cutting ceremony. It was expected that several thousand people would attend—the biggest crowd ever gathered in Indianapolis to celebrate the grand opening of a building.
Richard Bancroft had lived most of his life in New York City and moved to Indianapolis only three years ago when he joined forces with the other executives of his firm to start their own branch office here. He loved working with the people of Indiana, especially the folks in Marion County.
He liked that there was less competition because of fewer large businesses and corporations based in Indianapolis; therefore he felt like his smaller firm had an advantage. The move was not without challenges, however. He was used to doing everything himself, from hiring the right staff to running every aspect of his business on a daily basis.
Now that the branch office was up and operating smoothly, he felt that it was time for him to step aside and let others make decisions on a regular basis.
During his first three years in Indianapolis, he found that it wasn’t always easy to find people to do certain jobs. The company did have a good reputation across the nation and had been expanding rapidly since its creation, so Bancroft knew that there would be many opportunities available for qualified candidates. However, there were still some positions that needed to be filled urgently.
One of those positions was for someone with marketing skills and experience in promoting new businesses. Bancroft had a good friend from college, Charles St. Clair, who ran a successful advertising agency in Atlanta. They had remained friends over the years, even though St. Clair was now retired and living on a farm just outside of Atlanta.
St. Clair called one day asking for advice on hiring someone to help his wife run the family business. When Bancroft told St. Clair about the position he was trying to fill, St. Clair suggested that he contact his daughter, Amanda. At that time, she was twenty-four years old and still attending Georgia State University to obtain her master’s degree in marketing.
She agreed to come in for an interview after graduation as long as the company would pay her salary for the next few months until she graduated. Bancroft readily agreed and hired her on the spot.
Amanda St. Clair was the perfect candidate for the marketing position that Bancroft desperately needed to fill. After graduating with honors from Georgia State, Amanda had gone straight to work for an ad agency specializing in pharmaceutical accounts, which was where she met St. Clair’s wife, Lillian.
It took only six months for Amanda to be promoted to the account manager role and within two years had risen through the ranks to become a senior account executive. While there she gained valuable experience in the field of direct-response advertising.
It wasn’t unusual for pharmaceutical clients to receive letters in the mail offering them money off their prescription drug bills, which meant sending out millions of dollars worth of postage stamps each month.
These kinds of campaigns were extremely labor intensive, requiring hundreds of thousands of pieces of printed material to be mailed out to specific households within specific zip codes. Amanda helped devise creative ways to streamline this process, using software programs and computer databases that allowed them to send out as little as thirty percent of what they originally sent out.
As a result, pharmaceutical clients spent tens of thousands of dollars less per year, while still reaching their desired target audience.
She also learned how to write copy for print ads, television commercials, websites, email blasts, and direct mail pieces, all the while learning about consumer behavior patterns and marketing research techniques that would allow her to better target customers.
While working as an account executive at St. Clair’s advertising firm, Amanda met her husband, Mark. She was immediately attracted to his easygoing nature and thought he was handsome; he returned her feelings. Amanda had been married previously and divorced after only eight months of marriage.
She didn’t want another divorce so soon after her first. So when Mark asked her to marry him, she gladly accepted and said yes before he finished proposing. They wed shortly afterward and started planning the future together, having two children during their five years of marriage.
The couple loved being parents but also enjoyed spending time away from work whenever possible. They had traveled extensively throughout Europe and visited Australia and New Zealand during one Christmas holiday season.
Mark worked at the same advertising agency where Amanda worked for three years as a senior account executive before deciding to pursue his own business interests by starting his own advertising firm.
Their friendship continued, although Amanda often felt uncomfortable talking about her work at the company since her husband was involved with it on a professional level. When St. Clair retired and decided to move back to his home state of Indiana, Amanda offered her services to help him get established in Atlanta.
She was happy to leave behind the fast-paced world of big city life and even happier to return closer to Mark.
Although Amanda’s main focus was on her career, she was an avid reader and writer of fiction. She penned short stories and novels as well as poetry. Her father, Jack St. Clair, had taught her how to read and encouraged her artistic abilities.
He wrote several plays and musicals which had been performed on various stages throughout the south. A number of his works were published in magazines and journals over the years.
As a teenager, Amanda had written poetry, mostly for her private enjoyment. Over time she began writing more seriously, producing a number of poems that she shared with her best friends at school. One of these was her friend Jennifer Williams.
They had been close friends since they were in third grade, going on to graduate high school together, where Jennifer excelled in music and theater and went on to major in music performance at college. Jennifer had always encouraged Amanda’s writing and would sometimes critique a story or poem for her.
In return, Amanda would provide input on songs she was composing. During their junior year at high school, Jennifer’s mother died unexpectedly of a cerebral hemorrhage, leaving Jennifer completely devastated. Amanda had known how close they were and did what she could to comfort her.
Two years later, when Jennifer graduated from college with an associate degree in music education, Amanda attended her commencement ceremony to cheer her on.
Shortly after returning to Atlanta, Amanda and Mark rented a house located near a small lake called Lake Piedmont Park. The area was peaceful and quiet, yet convenient to the city. It was here that Amanda decided to begin working on a novel set in a fictional town much like the one where they lived.
The story revolved around three women who came face-to-face with evil during their teenage years after witnessing the brutal rape of a young girl by the son of their family’s next-door neighbors. This traumatic event changed the course of their lives forever.
Although they grew up in the same small town, they had never talked about what happened until decades later, when one woman discovered that two of her classmates from high school had committed suicide rather than live with what they had done.
Amanda used a number of personal experiences from her childhood to help flesh out characters that were based on people she knew, which made her stories more authentic. She completed three manuscripts over the next two years but was unable to find a publisher willing to take a chance on a relatively unknown author.
By this time Mark had started his own advertising firm, doing business as St. Clair & Associates, Inc. His first client was a local insurance company. Mark’s plan was to eventually expand into other areas of advertising, such as political campaigns and real estate ventures.
He had hired a few employees to assist him in meeting new clients as well as helping to run the day-to-day operations of the business. By now Amanda and Mark had a daughter named Rachel and a son named John, both born during their fifth year of marriage.
Amanda continued to write as she raised her kids and kept herself busy with work as an independent contractor for St. Clair’s old firm, assisting new account executives who needed help with accounts and creative ideas.
The family was enjoying their life when tragedy struck. On a Sunday afternoon, shortly after lunch, Amanda received word via telephone that her brother, David, had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. With a heavy heart, Amanda and Mark drove five hours to Knoxville, Tennessee, where they visited with her parents and siblings over the following week.
It had been several years since she had seen any of them, so it was nice to catch up on their lives. David passed away while Amanda and Mark were visiting with her parents, just a few days after their visit ended. Amanda stayed in town for several months with her parents as they dealt with all the details surrounding the funeral, including arranging for his burial.
While there, she worked on a novel which was tentatively titled The Evil Within, which involved a man who returns home, only to discover that someone has murdered his wife and child. He becomes obsessed with finding the killer and ends up taking matters into his own hands.
Amanda felt a deep sense of loss when David passed away; however, she found it difficult to grieve properly because her mind was occupied with her need to finish her book. Eventually, she decided not to worry too much about the manuscript; she had plenty of ideas and plans for the future.
She returned home determined to be there for her family as they dealt with the aftermath of David’s passing.
Mark and Amanda had planned to go to Europe for a month during their summer vacation. But instead, they decided to take another trip closer to home—a road trip to Florida. Amanda had always wanted to visit the Kennedy Space Center and see the launch pads where humans walked on the moon.
They arrived in Florida two weeks before launch, which gave them time to tour the facility and watch several launches. A particularly impressive shuttle flight was being prepared for its final mission, scheduled for early October.
When NASA announced that they were canceling this last voyage, Amanda and Mark purchased tickets to attend the final liftoff, making sure they were in place well ahead of time.
On the morning of the launch, as the huge rocket was readied for its journey into outer space, they sat in their seats, watching the countdown in anticipation. The moment they heard the familiar sound of “seven seconds,” everyone in attendance jumped to their feet, cheering for the astronauts who were boarding the spacecraft as they entered the launch tunnel.
Then with a rumble of thunder, they saw the giant vehicle rise above the earth, climbing ever higher, leaving behind it a plume of white steam as the flames ignited within its core. Moments later they began hearing cries from thousands of spectators who were standing nearby in disbelief as they watched the shuttle break apart in midair, disintegrating before their eyes.
As the shuttle fell toward the Atlantic Ocean, Amanda turned to Mark and asked if he’d ever seen anything as spectacular in his lifetime as what he was watching right now. He hadn’t, but they could still hope that the crew would make it back safely. As the shuttle began breaking apart, Amanda and Mark looked at each other with shock.
There was no way they could have survived such a catastrophe. For the first time in history, a human had died in the act of launching another person into outer space. The next couple of minutes passed by in silence. All around them, people were crying as they realized that all seven members of the crew had perished.
A little over two months later, Amanda got word that her mother had also passed away. After returning from Florida, she spent several days in Knoxville comforting her father, brother, and sister. During this time, she learned that her mom had suffered from dementia which had worsened over the past two years.
She had become increasingly confused and disoriented, sometimes forgetting simple things such as why she had gotten dressed or how she’d come to be in some location she wasn’t supposed to be in.
Amanda felt guilty about leaving her dad alone with these memories, as well as having to deal with the reality of his wife’s illness and impending death. She knew she should return to Knoxville soon, but she didn’t know when exactly this might be. In the meantime, Mark had suggested that they spend their Christmas holiday in Florida and visit Disney World.
After Christmas, she went to work on her novel once again; however, this time it was more like therapy than writing. Her thoughts drifted back to her childhood and the stories she used to hear about growing up in Knoxville, Tennessee. Some of these tales involved her grandfather, an eccentric inventor named Dr. Frank J. Marley.
He invented a number of different items throughout the years, including a device that could be attached to a television antenna, allowing viewers to record programs. It was a primitive form of video recording but allowed viewers to save their favorite shows without having to rely solely on the vagaries of television schedules.
Dr. Marley had invented many other devices over the years, including a special type of the television camera which could be affixed to a helicopter. This made aerial photography possible for news crews and other organizations needing high-quality pictures of remote areas.
He developed a system for measuring rainfall across large swaths of land, using weather satellites and sophisticated computers to collect information on rain patterns. He even helped design a system for controlling traffic lights that were installed in cities and towns around the world.
During his younger days, he had also been a member of a flying circus, performing as the “Flying Man” during one of its tours. Although this act never caught on as a permanent part of the show, it was certainly exciting for those who were fortunate enough to catch it when visiting a local fair or traveling carnival.
As a result of this experience, he was often intrigued by any new technology involving flight or aircraft. And as a child, he became enamored with rockets and space travel.
While she’d visited Florida many times with her family, Amanda had not been there in decades, so she thought it might be interesting to go back to the place where she grew up. When they arrived, they found their rental house to be perfect—it reminded both of them of the kind of places they’d stayed while traveling abroad.
They enjoyed seeing the sights, especially those that brought back fond memories for Amanda, such as the beaches, the amusement parks, and the zoo. She’d always loved animals as a kid. Even though she’d grown up in the city and had lived most of her life in New York City, she was thrilled by the idea of seeing exotic creatures from around the globe.
She could still remember being taken on a field trip to an old barn in Knoxville where they’d held an exhibition featuring various rare animals. These included everything from gorillas to elephants to tigers and even monkeys.
She and Mark decided to spend their final day at SeaWorld, where they watched an aquatic ballet performed by dolphins, sea lions, and killer whales. The trainers who worked with the animals did a fantastic job of making the performance engaging for the audience. Many of these performers were highly trained and seemed happy to put on a good show for the tourists.
They also saw a number of live performances from musicians and singers of all ages and ethnicities. There was a particularly talented young guitarist whose name was Jason O’Bryant; and although Amanda recognized him as someone she’d heard before, she couldn’t remember exactly what his music sounded like.
But as he played his guitar, he mesmerized his listeners. By the time he finished playing his encore, he’d received a standing ovation. A few people in the audience even started dancing on the spot.
By early afternoon, they decided to make the drive back to Knoxville, arriving just after sunset. Both of them agreed that it would be fun to return someday when they could stay longer and see more of what Florida had to offer.
As they drove back into Knoxville, Amanda noticed the clouds in the sky turning orange and red and felt a sudden chill. The air temperature had dropped drastically since they left the coast of Florida. Before long, they began hearing rumbling sounds which seemed to grow louder as they approached Knoxville.
Then suddenly, she noticed something ahead on the highway that appeared to be moving through the sky above them. As it drew closer, they saw that it wasn’t an airplane, helicopter, or any other aircraft. It was a giant flying saucer, hovering over the freeway, causing the road beneath it to rumble with a loud thumping noise.
People who were driving nearby pulled to the side of the road and gathered at the edge of the road, staring up in awe. Soon other cars were pulling off onto the shoulder, leaving only one car traveling down the middle lane. Amanda looked around, trying to figure out what was happening.
Then she noticed a billboard that said “Welcome to Knoxville!” She smiled and tapped Mark’s arm. “I wonder if it means we’re finally home.”
They continued down the highway, heading toward downtown Knoxville. They passed through a large roundabout and then turned onto a street called Gay Street. It was here that they encountered what had once been a popular restaurant and bar known as The Bluebird Inn.
After being closed for two years, it re-opened as The Blue Bird Café—although some locals still referred to it as simply “The Bluebird”.
Although the décor of the inside had been updated with new paint and furnishings, the building remained true to its roots, retaining much of its original charm. The café was famous for being the last place where Elvis Presley had sung in public before his untimely death. He’d been accompanied by his band, The Jordanaires, who were later inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
While waiting for his next set, the singer had gone outside to visit his friend Carl Perkins, who was sitting near the front door, smoking a cigarette. They hadn’t expected that anyone would notice, but a couple of girls from the audience had seen Presley chatting with Perkins and took photos of them together.
Their gossip soon reached the attention of one of Presley’s managers who ordered them to erase their photographs from their cameras. Later that night, Elvis returned to the restaurant to have dinner. His manager, Colonel Tom Parker, had arranged this because he wanted his client to get used to eating in public again.
This time, the wait staff had no idea who he was—he’d worn a hat to conceal his signature pompadour hairstyle and the white sequined outfit which had become synonymous with his image. However, they’d noticed the reaction of the patrons sitting nearby, whispering among themselves and pointing in disbelief at the singer as he ate.
Although Elvis had tried not to pay too much attention to the whispers and stares, the experience clearly disturbed him. When asked why he was upset, he replied, “It’s bad enough to hear my own songs played on the jukebox and in the restaurants around town, but I don’t need people asking me why I’ve got those funny-looking eyebrows!
I know they mean nothing to people now; but back when I was first becoming known, it bothered me to think that people might be looking at me differently. And what can you expect? I’m getting older. My hair’s changing color.”
After paying for their meals, they made plans to meet with some friends from work at a local pub. Neither of them was a drinker, so they planned to have a coffee instead. But as they crossed the street to cross over to Gay Street, Amanda suddenly realized that she was freezing cold and didn’t feel well at all.
The wind had picked up and was blowing her dress against her legs, making them shake uncontrollably. As they walked along, she noticed that there were strange noises coming from somewhere nearby. Then she heard a sound like a woman screaming and a baby crying. Her stomach clenched, feeling as though it were going to explode.
She put her hand to her mouth and quickly glanced over at Mark, but he didn’t seem concerned. Then another scream pierced the air.
Amanda gasped, squeezing her eyes shut tight. When she opened them, she looked up and noticed a group of men walking toward them from across the street. They wore leather jackets and boots and carried rifles slung over their backs. One of them held the barrel of his gun directly toward them.
“What do you want?” Mark shouted.
The man raised his rifle higher, aiming it directly between Amanda and Mark. “Nothing,” he growled.
Then Amanda realized who these men were. They were biker gang members who’d arrived in town just days earlier, threatening to burn down the city unless their demands were met. These weren’t ordinary motorcycle gangs like Hell’s Angels or Outlaws—these outlaws were different: they were heavily armed and extremely dangerous.
They’d come to collect what was owed to them after a series of disputes between local businesses and local law enforcement. Their leader, known as “Old Man Death”, was determined to see that justice was done. He believed that every member of local police departments should be killed and all lawmen should be executed by hanging until each one died.
She remembered how, only weeks before, the news had broadcast footage of police cars burning in various parts of the county, including right here in Murfreesboro. She recalled stories about cops being forced into retreat when the gangs’ vehicles tore through their barricades and burned their cruisers.
Many had been killed as a result, but others had escaped by taking refuge in nearby buildings and escaping out onto rooftops. The authorities were powerless to stop the onslaught: the bikers possessed superior firepower and overwhelming force.
In response, police officers had retreated from the fighting to avoid further casualties while their armored vehicles stood empty behind concrete barriers. It was an impossible situation. Local law enforcement knew that if they attempted to retake the streets, they’d die in the process, so the decision had been taken to abandon the entire area and let the bikers wreak havoc.
But the bikers weren’t satisfied. The damage wasn’t severe enough. They needed something far more significant than a simple arson attack.
A few days later, they’d sent out a letter demanding that two men be brought to them within twenty-four hours. The reason: they were going to be given a chance to redeem themselves and save their families from certain death. If they refused to cooperate and surrender, the bikers would kill their wives and children and then hang them from trees in the middle of town.
The next day, the biker gang came to visit the mayor and informed him that they’d received word that the two men in question worked as policemen with the department of narcotics.
When he heard what they wanted, Governor Wallace took immediate action: he issued an emergency executive order and called upon every state trooper in Tennessee to join him in subduing the bikers.
With no way to escape, Amanda and Mark turned around and hurried back to work. But even inside, where it was warm and dry, they couldn’t get rid of the chill that crept into their bones and settled into their bodies like ice cubes melting in water. They shivered uncontrollably. As much as she hated to admit it, she was afraid.
Afraid of being killed by the bikers who’d come to town, who were intent on exacting retribution for crimes committed by their loved ones, who were now demanding blood.
They went home that evening without speaking to each other, but as soon as they pulled into the drive, Amanda saw several cars parked outside the house and realized why: the biker gang was there. She immediately ran into her bedroom and crawled beneath the covers.
When Mark came in, she begged him to stay away, asking him not to go outside because the bikers might come in and kill them both.
The bikers had already murdered one policeman’s wife—they’d lured her husband out of their car on a dark night under the cover of darkness and shot him in front of his young son. Now they demanded that the remaining spouse turn himself and his family over to them.
The next morning, Amanda awoke with a sense of dread that seemed to have settled into the depths of her body like cement. The thought of facing those men again made her feel physically ill.
It reminded her of the first time she’d seen their faces: they’d looked at her as though she were something to be discarded like garbage as if they wanted nothing more than to destroy everything she was. She didn’t know how much time passed before Mark finally walked into the bedroom. She hadn’t noticed when he’d come to bed, but she was glad he’d returned safely.
She knew what he intended to do and, knowing his feelings toward law enforcement, she also understood that he’d be torn apart if he lost another friend.
“I’m going to help my buddy,” he said simply.
Amanda nodded as she sat up in bed. “Be careful,” she told him. “If I don’t see you tonight, don’t wait up.”
As soon as he was gone, she grabbed some clothes and left the house. For an hour or so, she wandered aimlessly through the woods; eventually, she decided to sit down and wait. It wouldn’t take long: if Mark hadn’t come back after five minutes, she’d assume he’d been caught and would head home without a second thought.
But just before ten o’clock, as she stood beside the stream in the park, a car drove across the field and stopped directly opposite her. She recognized the vehicle: it belonged to Mark’s friend. When they spoke briefly, Amanda could tell that something had happened; then suddenly his friend threw open the door and jumped out of the car.
With a look of desperation on his face, he staggered forward and fell onto his knees.
Mark came running up and knelt down beside him.
For a moment, they looked at one another, neither saying anything. Then Mark began to speak.
“We need to talk,” he told his friend, “and we need to do it quickly.”
The man nodded. He was sweating profusely, but his expression remained calm.
“My wife’s in danger,” he said quietly.
Then they both got into their cars and drove to the house.
It was eleven o’clock when the bikers finally arrived. They’d already burned two houses to the ground, murdering two women whose husbands turned themselves in. Now they were back to finish off the others.
Amanda watched as they set up their equipment near the edge of the woods, where the trees provided excellent cover. There were four of them: two men and two women. In less than thirty seconds, they had the generator going and started to search the area.
She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she heard them muttering about finding the right spot, about setting up their cameras. As though they were looking for something, she realized, but what? Her heart raced faster and her breath shortened until she felt short of breath.
What are they doing here? Are they searching for me? She tried to push the thought away and focus on keeping calm, but then the answer hit her like a bullet from a gun.
She saw herself lying in bed, trying to sleep—but unable to. Instead, she lay staring at the ceiling with its fluorescent glow while her thoughts spun like crazy.
Her eyes moved to the windows. Would they be able to see through it? If they were watching, did they see me run into the woods? How many of them are there? Will they come in and kill us? Is this the reason I couldn’t stop shaking last night? Am I sick? Is that why I can’t breathe?
Suddenly Amanda felt weak and dizzy; as she swayed unsteadily in place, she nearly toppled over.
A loud pop! sounded behind her, followed by shouts and screams as the police rushed into the woods.
The End