Mrs. Grubb walked to the bulletin board. Glancing occasionally at her note pad, she moved photographs of Hunt and Long to the left under the “OUT” card, joining the linked rape cases and the 1970 murder.
“Fat and Duncan.” De la Peña called out. “How did the dog hunt go yesterday?”
“We got twelve done,” Fat responded. Seeing De la Peña’s expression, he added, “It did go slower than we expected. Those schnauzer owners are very talkative. Friendly, but not very helpful.”
“Yeah, and their dogs yap non-stop,” Duncan added. “When they’re not yapping they are jumping on you, wanting you to throw their damn squeaky toy. I think I’m catching Lang’s allergy.”
“Sounds like a tough assignment,” De la Peña said shaking his head in mock sympathy. Seeing Fat hold up what looked like a batch of paper evidence bags, but not of the usual size and color, he asked, “What are those, Fat?”
“Schnauzer cheek swabs.”
“I didn’t know we decided to do DNA tests.”
“Well, no, Sergeant, but it won’t cost anything. The dog DNA lab agreed to test them for free. They won’t be working nights anymore but they promised to run them within a few days. They’ll be able to tell us if we find the dog that licked the envelope, the dog whose hair was found at the crime scene or a relative of one of those two.”
“OK. Let’s see if you can pick up the pace. If there is anything to be learned out there we want to find out as soon as possible.”
Moffat left the group without further comment. De la Peña finished his overview of plans for the day. The entire team would be out of the Team Center most of the day with the exception of Officer Tashara who would close the four case files that had been resolved. Moments later, De la Peña joined Moffat at the corner of the room.
De la Peña’s appearance brought another smile from Moffat. The Sergeant sat in a chair with his back against the wall, his left elbow resting on the desk. “You like Mrs. Grubb’s makeover?”
“Don’t get used to it,”
“So, Captain, you were going to tell me what Pane’s niece had to say.”
Moffat related Janice Russell’s story about the last minute change to Franke’s life insurance beneficiaries.
“Wow. I don’t think I’d want to have Pane set to inherit anything if I died. The guy creeps me out. Anyone who digs graves for fun…”
“I know what you mean.”
“What about the 1970 murder case with Franke as a witness?” De la Pena asked.
“Quite a coincidence. I read the whole file. A twenty-two year old clerk typist working for the Selective Service. She was shot late at night, a 38-caliber bullet to the back. Franke discovered the body the next morning when he opened the office. Police thought she might have surprised a burglar. Initially there was concern the murder might be related to activities of anti-war groups around at the time. In the month prior, the office had been vandalized and once was the site of a demonstration that turned violent. Police determined the murder was a simple burglary gone bad. They never identified a suspect.”
“Interesting,” De la Peña commented. “I bet we won’t be closing that case.”
“Not likely after 37 years, is it? Come on, I’ll buy you some coffee before you do your laundry on County time.”
~ ~ ~
CHAPTER 31
Mrs. Grubb found them in the first floor break room. “It’s unbelievable, Captain.”
“What is?”
“Suzanne Robinson from Juvenile Hall phoned. Aaron Jamison was released from the hospital. His grandmother picked him up this morning. No charges were filed.”
De la Peña stared at Mrs. Grubb then at Moffat “He brings a gun to high school, threatens students and police, spends three days in the psychiatric ward and that’s it?” De la Peña shook his head.
Moffat looked perplexed. “It is hard to believe they could decide so quickly that he’s safe to leave. I didn’t want him sent to the Youth Authority but, no, I don’t know how they could do this. I’ll catch up with you later, Sergeant. Mrs. Grubb, let’s find out what’s going on.”
* * *
Their first call was to the County Probation Officer. She seemed in a state of shock. According to the law and administrative procedure, the decision was supposed to be hers but, she said, the district attorney and the county’s senior judge contacted her late last night and told her Aaron would be released without charges. The psychiatrist, they told her, had clearly established that Aaron was no longer a threat to himself or others. They had determined there were extenuating circumstances that made it in the public interest to stop any legal proceedings against Aaron. The probation officer admitted that she had voluntarily agreed to drop the charges but confided to Moffat that she had never experienced such high level pressure in the case of a juvenile offender.
While Moffat was on the phone, Mrs. Grubb made a second call. She asked Joyce Bithell for any information she might have. Although Aaron did seem quite normal and in excellent spirits by Wednesday, the staff of the Psychiatric Ward was equally surprised by his sudden release. Nurse Bithell believed that the psychiatrist was responsible. When Mrs. Grubb relayed the nurse’s account to Moffat, he asked her to phone her friend once again, to set up an urgent meeting with the psychiatrist.
Less than a half hour later four county employees--Police Captain Alexander Moffat, Director of Nursing Joyce Bithell, Senior Administrative Assistant Evelyn Grubb and Staff Psychiatrist Dr. Neil Zielinski--sat in the lounge area of Bithell’s office. Zielinski was just as Bithell described him: informal, energetic and very earnest. He opened a bag of vending machine peanuts and began eating. He was not at all defensive.
“I know, Captain, I’ve never seen things move this quickly here. When the D.A. chose to drop the charges, I had no grounds to hold the patient. His family was very eager to have him released.”
Zielinski paused, expecting a challenge, a question or some kind of response. Moffat gazed at the doctor with a look of intense interest. Mildly surprised, Zielinski continued his account of Aaron’s condition.
“Monday afternoon, when I read the admitting officer’s report, I thought we were faced with a very difficult case. I prescribed something to relax, help him sleep. I couldn’t see him until the next morning. By then, I had already been contacted by his grandmother. She gave me a complete picture of his home life, the abandonment by his father in early childhood and the mother’s complete lack of parenting skills. I promised her I would see Aaron right away and do everything possible for him. She is very persuasive.’
“When I met Aaron, I found a shy, bright, independent young person with a resilient personality who had been subjected to unbearable bullying that goes back at least three years. After some initial hesitation, he spoke freely about the problems that led to the incident.”
“That ‘incident’ could have resulted in the deaths of many children and the boy himself,” Mrs. Bithell interrupted. “How could we release him into the same conditions? How can that be safe?”
“I know, I know. I spent hours with Aaron. He poured his heart out to me. Through this therapy he was able to recognize the child’s perception of his situation and gain a realistic understanding of the problems he has been facing and what his role is and is not in the causation. As I said, he is a very intelligent young man and we were able to address a personal issue that has conflicted him for several years. Aaron and the grandmother have committed to ongoing counseling and I have arranged for placement in a support group. Overall, I have to say that this young man does not suffer from any mental disease or serious personality disorder. Under the conditions in which Aaron has existed, I doubt any of us would have enjoyed the same level of mental health.”
Mrs. Grubb had followed the doctor’s words in rapt silence, her eyes welled with tears as the doctor described Aaron’s challenges in life. Joyce Bithell patted her forearm then asked the doctor “How can he return to that school? You won’t expect him to go back, will you???
?
“Miner’s Flat High School has a serious problem and I have provided reports to the Board of Education and the state Superintendent of Public Instruction. The school failed completely to comply with SB719 for protection of students from bullying and harassment. I expect some changes immediately. Getting back to Aaron…he wants to return to school. He has written a letter of apology that will, I understand, be presented at an assembly of the students and faculty tomorrow morning. When he returns to school Monday…yes, Monday…he will have the support and companionship of quite a few students and a teacher counselor. I have arranged for a support group to meet on Saturday under professional supervision. The final factor supporting my decision fell into place last night. The child’s mother surrendered custody to his grandmother and so I think he will have for the first time in his life a stable and healthy family environment. Judge Scholz approved the petition. There was no mental health or legal reason to keep Aaron confined to the Ward.”
Moffat nodded. “Thank you for explaining your decision, Doctor.”
“Captain, you and I have the same objective. To determine that Aaron is not a threat to himself and others and to allow him to get the most out of life.”
“One other thing, Doctor. As far as you are concerned, would it be all right for me to talk to Aaron today?”
Zielinski thought for a moment. “Yes, actually that would be a good thing. Aaron thinks very highly of you and your Sergeant. He needs to come to terms with what he did on Monday and the police are a big part of that experience. Talking to you would give him a chance to apologize and have completion on that score. With his grandmother’s permission, I think it would be good for Aaron to see you. I’ll phone her if you would like.”
~ ~ ~
CHAPTER 32
Brandon Fat snapped shut his cell phone. “Change of plans, Janie. Mr. Morrison wants us to meet him at the park next to the clubhouse.”
Duncan turned an unmarked police car onto the road leading to a security gate at the Sierra Rose Active Seniors Retirement Community. She pulled close to a phone on a pedestal to use the keypad to enter an access code provided by Morrison, a schnauzer owner with whom Fat had made an appointment. Before she pressed the first number, the gate began to swing open. Duncan followed a homeowner’s car through the gate, drawing suspicious stares from three pedestrians. A huge clubhouse and recreation center was on the right. Duncan turned at the next corner and saw a small crowd of about twenty people and eleven dogs near picnic tables in the center of a park. The crowd stared as Duncan and Fat approached. A tall thin man with a full head of striking silver hair greeted them.
“I’m Adam Morrison. You must be Brandon Fat.”
Fat displayed his badge. “This is my partner Officer Duncan.”
“Welcome to Sierra Rose. You’re probably wondering about this.” He waved at the collection of people and dogs. “We compared notes about your request and thought it would be easier if we all met here…save you from explaining about the case eight separate times. Just ignore those three.” He pointed at three dogs and their owners. Fat saw a dachshund, a cocker and one “who knows what” at the edge of the group. “We told them it was miniature schnauzers only but they came anyway. So, Detective, what are you working on and how can we help?”
Fat liked the sound of ‘detective’ and didn’t correct Morrison. “I’m sorry. We really can’t discuss the investigation.” Seeing looks of disappointment all around, he added quickly, “Not until it’s over. Then I can come back. We need some information about your dogs and want to take a swab from each dog’s mouth.”
“Why can’t you explain what it’s about?” One of the women asked.
Duncan replied. “Orders.”
Another woman said, “What if we don’t want to get involved? How do we know what we’re getting into?”
A short, wide man with a fringe of gray hair surrounding a shiny, bald head joined in. “Come on, Sylvia. Your dog doesn’t have anything to hide, does he?”
“Well, I don’t know. The other day he got away from me and squeezed under the gate to the field. He was gone all afternoon.”
“You think maybe he knocked over a bank?”
“Wait, everyone,” Fat interrupted. “It’s not that a dog was involved in the commission of any crime. Your cooperation will help focus our investigation and eliminate some possibilities. It is voluntary, however.”
“Come on, everybody,” Adam Morrison shouted. “Line up to my left and we’ll get this done.
Just then, a salt and pepper female schnauzer on a retractable leash charged Duncan from the side. Duncan pivoted and glared at the dog. It stopped instantly and ran behind its owner, nearly tripping her with the leash.
“Don’t be afraid. They can sense fear,” the lady said.
“Can they sense they’re about to be pepper sprayed?” Duncan said without humor.
“Kukla doesn’t bite.”
“Maybe not,” Fat offered “but Officer Duncan does.”
Duncan took information from Morrison: owner’s name, address, dog’s name, age, where acquired. Fat pulled on plastic gloves and with Morrison’s help, drew the swab across the inside of his dog’s cheek. Another senior, a fit looking woman of about seventy-five, volunteered to assist with the rest of the samples, explaining she had worked twenty years at a veterinary clinic and was skilled at brushing canine teeth and this looked even easier. Fat passed a pair of gloves to the woman and they worked their way down the line. The seniors kept up a steady stream of chatter, some not realizing that they could be overhead by two 23 year olds with normal hearing.
“He’s the son of the Chinese dentist.”
“Why do you have to say ‘Chinese’? You always refer to people by their race.”
“Remember the dentist married a white woman. One of the Whitman kids…”
“Isn’t her hair cute?”
“I haven’t got up that far yet.”
“What time is the potluck?”
* * *
Packing the newly collected samples in the trunk, Fat thought that nine dogs in only 35 minutes should make De la Peña happy. Plus leads on another four unlicensed schnauzers. Duncan shook her head slightly, thinking another three or four days of this might send her over the edge.
Ten minutes later, they met the next dog owner on the day’s list, a thirty year old man lovingly washing a black Hummer in the driveway of a modest home in a new housing tract. Despite the sixty-two degree temperature, he was shirtless, wearing only shorts and sandals.
Identification was offered and information provided. The dog was unavailable at the time.
“My ex-girlfriend took the dog and won’t return it. I bought it just before we moved in together. She knows it doesn’t belong to her. Legally, it’s mine.”
“Did you want to file a theft report?” Fat asked reluctantly. He was relieved when the man shook his head.
“Where is the dog now?”
“She took it to San Luis Obispo. She’s already moved in with some guy. Probably had him lined up before we broke up.” He directed a light spray of water to the Hummer’s soapy rooftop. “The thing is, she didn’t even like the dog when we lived together. You know how women…” The man glanced at Duncan and checked himself. “Well, OK. If you ask her she’ll tell you what an asshole I am.”
The two officers thanked him and headed to their next stop. Both agreed it was unlikely they would be sent on a 300 mile round trip to collect this particular dog’s DNA. As they would with all the schnauzer owners, they would check him for any record with law enforcement agencies.
His attitude made an impression on Fat. “I hope we’re not that bitter when we’re that age, Janie.”
“I don’t know why I wouldn’t be. I am now.”
Duncan and Fat made several more stops before taking a short break to pick up hamburgers at a fast food drive through. They ate on the road to their next stop then checked off another three in rapid succession. By 2:00 they arrived at t
he home of the eighteenth dog on their list. In a neighborhood of large, blue tile roofed two story homes on small lots, they called on a forty five year old man who lived with his wife, three teen aged children, a loud cockatiel, and a six year old black, male miniature schnauzer. The man’s answers were routine except for how he acquired the dog.
“We had one when I was growing up. I was pretty young but I remembered driving out into the country to buy a pup at a farm with a kennel. It was in the middle of nowhere but it made an impression on me. Six years ago, when we finally decided to get a dog, just on a whim, my wife and I and one of the kids drove up there. There weren’t any signs - puppies for sale - or anything but when we got to the end of the road I recognized the dirt driveway and then the farmhouse. I heard dogs barking so we parked and knocked on the door. I was just about to give up when a man came around the corner of the house. He wasn’t too friendly at first but when I explained our situation, he took me over to pick out Chipper, here, only eight weeks old then. He’s purebred, but I didn’t want any papers with him so the man let me have him for a hundred. He’s been a great dog. Finally settled down after about five years of being a puppy.”
Sensing a schnauzer owner with more stories, Duncan ended it there. Fat got the sample easily. He returned from the car with his laptop and had the dog owner show him the route to the kennel on Google’s terrain map of the county.
The officers estimated they would have time to visit the kennel and return to the station for De la Peña’s pre-stake out briefing with at least fifteen minutes to spare.
~ ~ ~
CHAPTER 33
Like Duncan and Fat, Moffat also wanted to conduct an afternoon interview and get back to the Team Center in time for De la Peña’s briefing. At two o’clock he was greeted at the front door of the late Veronica Gillis’ home by her mother and her nephew. Aaron was obviously embarrassed but seemed determined to face the first policeman he had encountered since Monday with a show of politeness and maturity. Mrs. Jamison was stronger still than when he had seen her on Monday causing Moffat to marvel at the transformation since their first meeting.