Gerry

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  • Age:
  • 18
  • Where am I from:
  • Welsh
  • What is my Sign of the zodiac:
  • Taurus
  • My tattoo:
  • None

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Description

Raymond Chandler never had it so good. His town, La Jolla, is becoming notorious for bizarre murders that don't get solved. And somehow people are always killed in their cars. So does the killing last September of year-old Tilda Phipps, who was found slumped over the wheel of a rented Ford Mustang she crashed into the front yard of a Coast Boulevard home. She had been shot in the head. But the killing of David Allen Stevens, just two days before Christmas, was especially shocking.

Firefighters found he was still inside. Police discovered he had been shot twice in the head. We want to know more. David Stevens was a onetime state-champion wrestler, divorced, and single, an Arnold Schwarzenegger-inspired fitness freak, and according to his boss, a workaholic. He had cultivated good work habits on his dad's prosperous dairy farm and knew he could take it over anytime.

But friends and family say he wanted to show his dad he could make it on his own. It took him nine years, but he got there.

And there was no way he was coming back to the Midwest. David left a good job as a Sprint telemarketing executive in Olathe, Kansas, to come here. By last Christmas he was doing so well, supervising ten telemarketers for Perfect Match, that his boss says he was going to make him a shareholder. He was a wonderful guy," says Withrow.

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As far as what happened to him, you know as much as I do. When we got there about 45 minutes later we did a brief examination and confirmed that there was a heavily damaged body in the passenger side of the front seat. Merriken says the following Monday at the police pound, he, a homicide detective, and a forensic expert went through the vehicle with a fine-tooth comb.

It's quite possible that whoever committed this crime siphoned the gasoline out of the fuel tank and then poured it on the inside of the vehicle. His cousin Mark Stevens, an attorney and police officer in Las Vegas, came to help them out, partly because "Dan has a bum hip and Gerald has a bad heart. I heard a noise over there and I walked over.

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And there was a lady looking straight at me. I surprised her as much as she surprised me. She told me that about in the morning she heard a real loud boom! She looked out the window and fire was going 20, 30 feet in the air. She told me she was going to calland about that time she heard somebody pull out and away from there. It looked like where the [front] passenger seat would be was where the bulk of the flames were. You could see where the flames were concentrated in the tree above where I understand he was seated.

He never would be a passenger in his own car. David's boss agrees. He wouldn't ride with you, period. Was he killed somewhere else or on the spot?

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Could he have killed himself? It's been ruled a homicide by the police detectives.

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Police say they haven't gotten much further than that. I've been around that enough to be able to recognize it.

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He didn't smoke, he only drank very, very little. That's unique. If somebody dug through all my junk, I'd be embarrassed about a few of the things. But Mark Stevens says the police told him they had impounded the sheets from David's bed, a glass or mug with lipstick on it from the night stand, "and one long black hair.

They asked if we knew anybody that had long black hair. Presumably that was [found] in the sheets. Stevens says that Carl Withrow, while he was in Nebraska for David's funeral, seemed certain that the place cops should be looking was Dancers, a topless bar near Perfect Match's offices on Miramar Road.

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A female with long black hair who worked there He thought that if he saw her he could get some information from her. Carl thinks that she knows something about who did it, or that she may have spent the night at [David's] place before. Withrow doesn't go quite so far on the phone. Withrow says he did warn David about this particular girl. Those girls are pros at that. I just didn't want to see them take advantage of him. Could David have brought the dancer back with him that night? The only thing that I know is I talked to David from my home at about that night, the 22nd -- I live right underneath him [in an apartment building on Turquoise Street in Pacific Beach].

We lived together, we worked together. I told him it was the holidays. David would work and work and work and work.

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He was a workaholic. He really didn't do much other than work and play computer games at his house. He was supposed to come over and have Christmas dinner with us -- me and some other guys who live out here who have no family. I generally cook Christmas dinner for everyone when that happens.

David was supposed to make the fudge. So he said, 'I'm going to shut everything down and get out of here.

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Stevens says David worked everything from kidnapping to narcotics to intelligence gathering. He liked change.

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Liked the rush of the chase. He was an adrenaline junkie.

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And sure, we [accumulated] enemies. Our enemy list would run from here to San Diego and probably back. A lot of our cases are narcotic-related, and they are more dangerous now.

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People get even, now, more than they did before. Even though he would say to you, 'I don't trust this situation or this person,' he would want to. Stevens speculates David might have been doing some freelance snooping in San Diego. David's friend Jeff Stout, a specialist in nutrition who went to college with David, says he feels responsible for sending his friend to California.

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It was Stout who found a telemarketing job for David at a La Jolla health-supplement company whose products he'd endorsed. But Stout later became so disenchanted with the company's products that he says he contacted distributors, informing them he was disassociating himself from the company. The result, Stout says, was to cut the company off from the retail health market and restrict its sales to telemarketing. At around the same time, late summer '98, the company asked David to leave the telemarketing division he'd built up and to sell in the field, a demotion, David felt.

He quit with severance and took the lower-paying job with Perfect Match. Stout insists he's not suggesting the company had anything to do with David's death, merely that it sent him in directions he might not otherwise have taken.

He also wonders if David's straight-shooting character may have cost him his life. He'd say, 'Look: somebody points a gun at me, they'd better take me out. He didn't.

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We were in Lincoln, Nebraska, six, seven years ago, at a bar. It had something to do with a girl.

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