“My brothers have never been serious about anything. School…work… women… our family. It’s all a joke to them. They acted like it was funny when I passed the exam for detective. They had three extra years on the force but I outranked them. It was a wonder I got anywhere with the reputation those two had. They would goof off the whole shift, then, to get some overtime, they would pull some guy over in an old car and look for outstanding warrants. Usually they’d go for some black guy or Mexican. Sooner or later they’d find somebody who was wanted for something. Then they’d bring him back to the station and get a couple of hours at time and a half doing the paperwork. They would harass homeless people when they were bored. Hide their stuff…or, once, they stole some poor guy’s shoes. They are my brothers but they’re still assholes. Anyway, I didn’t want to have to put up with them everyday at work, so I looked for a good opportunity away from Los Angeles.” De la Peña looked at Moffat, wondering what kind of reaction he would have.
“I can understand that. I only have a sister. She’s two years younger. We always got along pretty well. I guess with a bigger family it’s more complicated. How did your parents react to your decision?”
“They weren’t very happy. My father thought it was a bad career move, leaving so soon after making detective. And, if they had their way, all of us would live with them until we get married. I think they’re glad I didn’t move any farther away.” De la Peña watched Moffat nod thoughtfully. When Moffat said nothing, De la Peña resumed. “I don’t think my parents’ have any idea how I feel about my brothers. I guess they just assumed it was some normal sibling rivalry. We were all three fairly good athletes in high school. Varsity track and baseball. I was a better student than either of them so that became a big deal with them. I had to lock up my term papers to keep them from disappearing just before they were due.”
“And your younger siblings?” Moffat asked with a tilt of his head.”
“My sisters and younger brother and I are all close. They knew how my older brothers were. Maybe I absorbed most of it but they got plenty of harassment and ridicule from those two. Since we all became adults, we pretty much steer clear of them.”
De la Peña stared into his glass. He felt protective, thinking about Angela, Jackie and Steven. He was especially concerned about his younger brother. Steven had just turned twenty. Thin, uninterested in sports and not tough in the way that De la Peña knew he and his older brothers were, Steven seemed a prime target for their abuse. De la Peña worried that with him gone from the scene, those two might target Steven.
Whelan appeared at their table. True to Moffat’s prediction, he questioned De la Peña about his reasons for leaving Los Angeles. He was fascinated as De la Peña gave him a version of the story he had just told Moffat that covered only his brothers’ potential to harm the family name within the L.A.P.D, omitting the details of earlier life within the family. For some reason, Whelan was convinced that the Sergeant’s parents would visit Segovia soon and wanted De la Peña to promise to bring them to the Pub. Then he took their dinner order, cheese and onion pasty with chips and beans for Moffat, fish and chips for De la Peña.
The first round relaxed both of them. With the arrival of the second, De la Peña was determined to learn about Moffat’s most famous case.
~ ~ ~
CHAPTER 16
“It was a fascinating case. Jeffrey Donald Bird committed his first homicide in 1988. He soon named himself A.C.K. for Arcade Creek Killer. During the next three and a half years, he killed four more times and wrote four letters to news organizations. I was assigned to the task force in 1991, when the ranking officer from the Sacramento police retired and the Sheriff’s department’s representative was in the hospital. Did you know there was a book written about it?”
De la Peña nodded. He had ordered it from Amazon.
Moffat continued. “A best seller written by the District Attorney. He thought it might carry him all the way to the Attorney General’s office, but he lost in the primary.”
Moffat had been interviewed by several national media organizations during the promotion campaign for the book. He had memorized a concise version of the story, covering his role in the case. It was this version he provided De la Peña during dinner at the pub.
This serial killer who terrorized the population of Sacramento and its suburbs during those three and a half years tried to use a different method on each of his victims. He stabbed the first, shot the second and bludgeoned the third. He took a gun with him as back up, though, and ended up using it on his last victim. He had strangled his fourth victim, a young woman, after dark in an empty church parking lot. When the victim’s boyfriend surprised the killer, he was shot with the same gun as the second victim. The targets were selected at random and stalked for several days before the attacks. Some homicides were committed within the city limits, others nearby in the unincorporated parts of the county. This m.o. prevented police from quickly recognizing that the crimes were connected. That, in turn, prevented the killer from receiving the attention he felt his crimes warranted. Immediately after the third killing, he sent his first letter to the press. By the time investigators linked the second, fourth and fifth killings because of the use of the gun, they and the general public had already accepted that there was a serial killer methodically committing a murder every four to six months.
After sending his first two letters to well-known television reporters, A.C.K. sent his third letter to a new reporter at the Sacramento Bee newspaper. All three letters had the same rambling style, gruesome details and taunting of the police officers on the case. They were quickly determined to be authentic. The news agencies agreed to omit the crime details but could not be dissuaded from publishing the excised letters.
Moffat told De la Peña he had the good fortune to ask himself why the killer had selected the newspaper reporter to receive his latest letter. He investigated her background. She was twenty-three, had graduated from Long Beach State before beginning a one year internship in Washington D.C. At the close of that year, she accepted an offer with great potential and low pay from the Bee, arriving in Sacramento in 1991, after the first three killings.
Moffat found that the Bee had published four articles by this young reporter before she received her letter from the killer. All four stories covered a single local issue - a plan by the County maintenance department to cut down nearly two hundred eucalyptus trees on a major boulevard. The trees were thirty years old and considered a safety hazard. Some residents of this part of the county objected to the plan. An ad hoc organization formed to oppose the proposal at hearings conducted by the Planning Department. The “Save the Trees” group used positive coverage from the young reporter’s stories to generate expanding opposition and for a time, delay the removal.
Moffat decided to look for a suspect from among the two hundred or so members of the tree protectors. He found two law enforcement retirees within or familiar with the group. He believed he could rely on them to assist in the investigation and keep it a secret. When the next public hearing was held, Moffat and three other plainclothes policemen were in attendance, along with three department videographers, surreptitiously taping the participants. Unfortunately, someone failed to keep the secret. Whispering began and within minutes, the entire room had gained awareness that a young police detective was within their midst.
One week later, Moffat learned that he was on the right track. The fourth A.C.K. letter arrived, once again directed to the Bee’s female reporter, who by this time had published two articles about the crime spree and investigation. This letter identified Moffat by name and included a paragraph that struck like a blade to the chest. The writer accurately described Jean taking a girl to soccer practice. The writer incorrectly assumed that the girl was their daughter. In fact, she was a teammate of Allison’s. Moffat realized that the killer had identified him and his wife, knew where he lived and had followed Jean at least for the time it took to drive from their house to the socce
r field. Guards were immediately in place protecting Moffat’s family and that of Allison’s friend.
In the meantime, Moffat and the other investigators identified the post office from which the fourth letter had been mailed. They were greatly encouraged to learn that there were video surveillance tapes. Moffat formed a team that included the videographers who had recorded the public hearing, the two law enforcement retirees who had helped previously and the wife of one of those two. These people studied the post office video surveillance tapes hoping to find a face they knew from the tree protection group.
She hadn’t mentioned it even to her husband, but the retiree’s wife had a specific person already in mind. She was excited but not surprised when she observed Jeffrey Donald Bird slipping a letter into the box inside the post office. Intuition, she said.
A check of the record showed Bird had a single conviction: killing of a cat belonging to an ex-girlfriend ten years earlier. He was age 37, married to a woman six years older and had two children ages six and eight. He was employed by the County of Sacramento as a health inspector, attended church regularly and wrote frequent letters to the editor under his own name on various local issues.
Officers staked out Bird’s home. He failed to go to work the next day, but in the early afternoon drove to the park where Allison and her friend would be playing soccer. Bird watched the whole game, and then followed Jean as she took several children to a pizza parlor. He remained outside in his car then followed her again as she dropped off the children and parked in the garage at home. At Moffat’s direction, the officers approached Bird in his car. He agreed to come with them to the station.
Moffat had requested and received search warrants for Bird’s home, office and car. While Bird was processed at the station and later questioned by Moffat without disclosing anything of value, officers found no evidence in a search of his home or car. However, in the credenza behind his desk at the county health department, they found newspaper clippings of the murders and items that were later identified as belonging to three of his victims. The roommate of one victim recognized her scarf. The mother of another identified her daughter’s charm bracelet. A class ring was thought to belong to the male victim. DNA tests were inconclusive on the first two items but showed that the ring did, in fact, belong to the victim.
Bird denied the murders. He was able to secure the services of an extremely capable criminal defense attorney. Moffat’s collection of evidence was circumstantial but his soft-spoken, sincere testimony was very convincing. Bird took the stand in his defense and with his attorney’s careful questioning, attempted to create alternate scenarios and possible alibis. During police questioning, he had seemed arrogant and cold. At the trial, he presented himself as friendly and helpful but justifiably worried. Moffat and others who had witnessed him earlier were impressed by Bird’s performance. Later, Bird’s own family admitted to having been surprised at the image he created for the jury.
It wasn’t enough. The DNA evidence on the ring was too powerful to be ignored. The jury quickly agreed on a verdict of guilty. Bird maintained his innocence for a year, then suddenly admitted to the crime and stopped fighting his execution. In 1994, he became California’s third person to be put to death following reinstatement of the death penalty in 1977.
* * *
Moffat concluded the story telling De la Peña how the case quickly made him a local celebrity. The Chief of Police got to know him and aided in the rapid advance of his career. The district attorney made Moffat the hero of the first half of his best seller before finding another candidate to star in the book’s second half - himself. The D.A. likewise befriended Moffat and joined with the chief to promote his career.
De la Peña decided to probe some himself. “Why did you leave the Sacramento Police Department? It sounds like you could have been Chief if you stayed.”
“I never wanted to be promoted to an administrative job. I enjoyed training young officers but homicide investigations are what I’ve always liked best. Also…” Moffat paused then tilted his head slightly, looking De la Peña directly in the eye. “With all the luck I had in my career and the good favor of the Chief, there were plenty of people who resented it.”
De la Peña imagined that Moffat had acquired a fair share of departmental enemies over the years.
“The main reason I left was for Jean. She put up with an awful lot during my twenty-five years. She wanted to move. I wasn’t ready to retire completely but this job has less responsibility and promises to have more regular hours.”
“Up until two days ago, it seemed kind of quiet compared to Los Angeles. I hope it doesn’t go on like this.
Moffat agreed.
~ ~ ~
CHAPTER 17
Monday, May 15
Monday morning, the fifty-fifth day of spring, was a spectacular day for those Californians who place great value on sunny, blue skies, a gentle grass-scented breeze and moist, clean air. For many of the people whose lives were entwined with that of Veronica Gillis it was a transformational day.
In his dark bedroom, Aaron Jamison woke early. As was his habit, he washed and dressed quietly, to avoid disturbing his mother. He went into the kitchen, drank a glass of water but decided he didn’t want breakfast and that he didn’t feel like making a lunch today. He went back to his room, spent quite a while searching through his music, then put on The All-American Rejects’ Move Along and lay on his bed listening through his ear phones.
* * *
In an elegant, Mediterranean-style home in the 1998 phase of El Dorado Estates, James Rees gazed contentedly at the Spanish fountain in the interior courtyard. Fernando, his partner of thirty years walked silently to his side and placed his left arm around James shoulder. Neither spoke. A heart-to-heart discussion the previous night had changed this small family’s plans for the future. James, with some trepidation, had told Fernando that he had changed his mind about retiring this year. It would mean delaying indefinitely their plans to spend a full year in France. To James surprise, Fernando took the news quite well. Fernando had been concerned about how well his spouse would handle the sudden change from the fast paced working world to a life of uninterrupted leisure. What effect might this change have on their relationship, Fernando wondered. During their talk, Fernando realized he would prefer that they postpone this milestone.
Another argument in favor of James remaining employed was financial. Fifteen years earlier, in the biggest decision of their lives and their relationship, James and Fernando had adopted an eleven-year old orphan of Vietnamese refugees in Thailand. Cindy, as she quickly named herself, had recently completed a master’s degree in biology at UC Berkley. Six months earlier, she had announced plans to apply to medical school. She had been accepted by three universities and had decided to attend UC San Francisco. She had told her two fathers that she would receive financial aid mostly in the form of low-interest loans. Though it bothered them that their daughter would start her career heavily in debt, their financial plans did not include an additional $100,000 for tuition and support. James listed the ability to help Cindy through medical school as one of the arguments for him continuing to work. James also told Fernando there seemed to be a good chance that he and the other employees could buy the business from Ronnie’s estate. The obvious choice as the new general manager, James foresaw a huge increase in his earnings in the near future.
For the first time in eleven years, Laraine Jamison woke to the alarm clock. The dog raised its head and watched with great curiosity as she went to the closet and selected an olive green pants suit, dressed, applied her make up and placed her wig upon her head. The dog had also never seen what happened next. Laraine opened her jewelry box, removed a set of car keys and placed them in her purse. The poodle followed Laraine from the bedroom to the kitchen. When she pulled a rhinestone-studded leash from the drawer and attached it to its collar, the poodle began the kind of tail-wagging that moves the whole back end of the dog.
* * *
For the first time in weeks, Martha Pane slept in. Her husband, the Reverend Arthur Pane had left the bed an hour earlier, when it was still dark. Martha stretched her legs and arms across the bed and briefly enjoyed a feeling of freedom and power as she fell back to sleep. When she awoke, breathing deeply and rhythmically, she felt that the extra hour of rest had counted for more than the previous seven combined.
While his wife was taking such delight in having the bed to herself, the Reverend walked among the mist covered pines behind the graveyard, feeling optimistic for the first time in over a year. The dramatic accusations about the youth counselor, the lawsuits and the discovery that the church didn’t own the land upon which it sat had made the last year an uninterrupted ordeal. He felt sure that now, Gillis’ death would delay the plans that up until 6 days ago were certain to evict him from the home and church that he loved. With God’s will, that delay would be long enough for a stroke of good fortune to provide the funds that would save them. The night before he had gone to bed at his regular time, 8:30, and had not spoken to his wife when she came in at nine. He did not know why his wife hadn’t already gotten up when he left the house. Had he known, he would have been even more optimistic.
* * *
Cheryl Haugen did not experience the kind of positive feelings that some of the others had this morning. Ronnie had been such an oppressive presence her whole life, almost like a weight pushing against her. Now this weight was gone but Cheryl felt even more fear for the future. Unconsciously and by habit, she had gotten up and readied herself for the day. As she always did before going to work, she phoned her mother. There was no answer. Cheryl was seized with a fear that something had happened to her mother and that inexplicably it was related to Ronnie’s death. The fear increased as she drove to her mother’s house, rang the bell then let herself in with her key. Catherine, who had been in the shower and hadn’t heard the phone or the bell, was greatly startled when Cheryl burst through the kitchen door. Now, both daughter and mother stood with their hearts pounding and breathing rapidly. Unnerved, they decided to go out to breakfast. Cheryl felt her mood lighten as she drove to the coffee shop.