Chapter One Greta Shoemaker

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BLOOD BROOK

by

Robert F. Clifton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2014 by Robert F. Clifton

All rights reserved. No part of this book may

be reproduced or transmitted in any form or

by any means without written permission

from the author.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedicated To Marie Clifton

My Favorite Daughter In Law

 

 

 

 

 

 

The reader is advised that this is a work of fiction. Any similarity of names of persons, places or events mentioned in this book is purely coincidental. R.F. Clifton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Introduction

 

Police Captain Robert Wallace requests sixty vacation days in order to fly to the west coast of Australia. He wants to visit his long time friend, Doctor Manfred Edwards (Azreal, Garwood Village). His request is denied when he is assigned to the County Prosecutor's Office to investigate and solve the murders of two, middle age women in a place called, Blood Brook.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Table of Contents

 

Chapter One.....Greta Shoemaker

Chapter Two.....Dorothy Timberlake

Chapter Three..Comparisons

Chapter Four....A Matter Of Law

Chapter Five.....Public Access

Chapter Six.......Personal Information

Chapter Seven...Probable Cause

Chapter Eight...Down Under

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

Greta Shoemaker

 

On Saturday, June 10, 1978, Greta Shoemaker was shelling Lima beans as she sat at her kitchen table. She was satisfied with the vegetables she had bought at the produce stand located on route forty.

When she dropped the last of the beans into a cullender she got up and carried it to the kitchen sink. There she rinsed the beans in fresh, cold, well water. Then, the front doorbell rang. “Shoot!”she said aloud. After wiping her wet hands on her apron she left the kitchen and went to the door. When she opened it a man was standing there holding a large box wrapped in brown paper. “I don't know what this is, but I know I didn't order anything”, she said.

“Are you Greta Shoemaker?”, asked the man.

“Yes, I am”.

“All I know lady is that's the name on the package. Look for yourself”.

“Greta leaned forward and saw, Greta Shoemaker #7Weymouth Road, Blood Brook, N.J. “I see my name and address, but I'm telling you whatever it is I didn't order”.

“Lady, all I do is deliver packages. I don't know who orders or who sends them. Please take the package”.

“Oh. Very well”. Greta took the package and with it both of her hands she turned in order to place it some place in the living room. When she turned a blow to her head knocked her glasses off. She staggered, then was struck again. A small moan escaped from her throat and the third impact to her skull killed her.

The next day was a Sunday and like every Sunday Homer Shoemaker left his home in Philadelphia and drove down the Atlantic City Expressway to visit his mother. When he reached the clover leaf he left the highway then took the gravel road that led through the New Jersey Pine Lands. Miles back in those pines was the hamlet of Blood Brook. Homer left Blood Brook at age seventeen. He enlisted in the Navy and upon his discharge he took a job in the Philadelphia Naval Yard as a welder. His mother had refused to leave her home in the pines and as a result her living alone worried her son so he checked on her every weekend.

He pulled his old Chevrolet into the driveway of his mother's house and got out of the car. After walking to the front door he turned the handle and pushed it in order to open it. The door opened about two inches. It seemed that something was blocking it. “Mom?”, he called. There was no answer. “Mom”, he called again. He still heard no reply. Using muscular strength he pushed the door moving whatever it was that was blocking it. With the door now open about ten inches Homer could look inside. When he did he looked down and saw the lifeless body of his mother. "Mom! Mom!", he shouted.

At about one o'clock that afternoon Robert Wallace answered the ringing telephone mounted on his kitchen wall. “Hello?”, he said.

“Robert? This is Emily. I'm afraid I won't be able to join you for dinner. I just received word from the prosecutors office that there has been a murder in a place called, Blood Brook”.

“That's way out in the sticks. Why you? The county has a coroner”.

“That's Doctor Shell. It seems that he's out of town. Evidently I'm the only medical examiner available. They need me to pronounce the victim dead so they can move the body”.

“How long is that going to take?”, asked Wallace.

“I have no idea”.

“Why don't we just move dinner time back to say, eight this evening?”

“You don't mind?”

“Of course not. Besides the steaks have to thaw”.

“Well, since you don't mind I hope to see you then”.

At seven pm. Doctor Emily Wescoat sat at the kitchen table watching Wallace slicing tomato's. “So, how did it go?”, he asked.

“The real problem was finding the house. I never knew anyone lived in those woods”, said Emily.

“Ah, the Jersey pines. There's probably a thousand stories about the pines and those that lived in them, including the Jersey Devil”, said Wallace.

“Really?”

“Yep. Originally it's thought that highway men camped in there.

They would rob the stage coaches that ran from Cape May to Philadelphia. No one would take the chance of going in there in order to capture them”.

“How do people live back in there?”

“Originally they hunted, trapped and where they could find a place with fertile soil, farm. Today, they still do that only now I suspect that they make a living differently”.

“What do you mean?”

“Today, they cut and sell firewood. There are one or two hog farms. The hog farmers come into Nautilus Beach in order to haul away garbage from restaurants and produce stores. They have contracts that gives them year long employment, but at the same time feed for their pigs”.

“Clever”.

“Oh yeah, I suspect that there are illegal stills operating deep in the woods and of course marijuana growing there besides”.

“You mentioned trapping. What do they trap?”

“Muskrat. This is June. If you go back in there in the winter you'll see the children wearing muskrat coats”.

“Really?”

“Yep”.

“How did the place get to be known as Blood Brook?”

“I keep forgetting that you're not from around here. Well, let me start at the beginning and that would be the Battle of Chestnut Neck. Chestnut Neck was a village on what is now known as the Mullica River. Those that lived there were privateers. They would sail out, board and capture ships going up and down the coast of New Jersey. When the Revolution began they began capturing British ships loaded with supplies for English troops stationed in Philadelphia. Finally, the British decided to remove the constant threat. On October 6, 1778 British ships loaded with three hundred regular troops sailed up the river and attacked. They burnt homes and warehouses, recaptured supplies and destroyed what they couldn't carry away. At the same time they burnt the salt mill and home of Eli Mathis.

The story goes that back in the pine barrens New Jersey patriots had constructed a smelter and forge. There they took bog iron from the waters and turned it into such things as pots and pans and cannon balls. Fifty British troops with knowledge of the location of the forge attacked the men working there. It is said that fifteen workers were bayoneted and their bodies thrown into the running stream. The stream then was known as Blackburn Creek. It got that name because of a forest fire. Since then it's been known as Blood Brook”.

“How interesting”.

“So, who got killed and how?”, asked Wallace.

“A woman named Greta Shoemaker. She died from blows to the head causing a fractured her skull. A shattered bone from her skull caused trauma to the brain it's known as subdural hematoma which killed her. Whatever the killer used it left crescent shaped wounds in the head”.

“Was a weapon found at the scene?”

“I don't know. When I got there I was met by two prosecutor investigators and a uniformed deputy sheriff. They might know”.

“He might have used a baseball bat. The end of the bat could cause such a wound. How many wounds did you find?”

“Three, and how do you know that the killer is a male?”

“The type of weapon used. Female killers choice of weapons are handguns, knives and poison. Usually, when a woman strikes the head of their victim its often the end of a high heel shoe or an iron skillet. Wait a minute. Wasn't the State police there?”

“None that I could see”.

“That's unusual. Blood Brook is in the patrol area of the State Police. They should have been there”.

“As I said. I didn't see any. They might have arrived after I left”.

“Possible. Now my lady, the salad is prepared. What say you of your choice of dressing. I have French and Italian”.

“Italian”.

“An excellent choice and as I recall you prefer your steak well done”.

“Absolutely”.

“No problem. Let me run something by you. I have sixty vacation days coming to me. I'm thinking of flying to Australia to visit my best friend. How would you like to go with me?”

“I'd love to Robert but I can't be away that long from the hospital. Besides I don't have anywhere near that much vacation time. When do you plan on leaving?”

“It's winter there now. September should be the beginning of Spring there. I figure mid-September”.

“It sounds wonderful. Have you been there before?”

“No. Well, the steaks are done, the baked potatoes are just right and the salad is nice and crisp. If you're ready we can eat. I have a nice bottle of Zinfandel. Shall I pour you a glass?”

“Please”.

Wallace sat down at the table. “I can't understand why Gallagher took it upon himself to have his office investigate this homicide”, he said.

“There must be a reason”, Emily replied.

“I do remember that sometime ago Gallagher lost a case in court because a young trooper lost part of essential evidence the day of the trial. He's been pissed off at the State police ever since”.

“That might explain his actions”, said Emily.

“Whatever. How's your steak?”

“Fine”.

The next day, Monday, June 12, 1978 James Gallagher, County Prosecutor sat behind his desk looking first at the written reports submitted by his investigators and then at the two men themselves. Taking off his glasses and with an angry red face he said, “What I have here from both of you is a pile of shit! No where does it mention a search for fingerprints. There's no mention of interviewing possible witnesses.

No search of the area for a murder weapon. In short both of you have already screwed up this case. Right now any law student in college could win in court challenging you two and your idiotic investigation. Why in the hell didn't you have someone dust for prints?”

“It was Sunday. No PD in the area had a technician on duty. Besides if there are any prints left there yesterday they're still there today”, said Harvey Carson.

“Is that right? Let me remind you that neither one of you took the time to have the crime scene protected. From what I can determine is the fact that after the Medical Examiner left and the body was removed you two idiots just locked the front door and walked away. I'm sure I'll be questioned about that brilliant action by the press. Anyone, even the killer could have gone back inside and removed evidence”.

“What would you like us to do now, Mr. Gallagher”, asked Alan Hudson.

“If I had a choice it would be for both of you to resign. However, right now I'm stuck with both of you. Go back to Blood Brook and do what you should have done yesterday. Now, get the hell out of my sight!”

At about the same time that James Gallagher was chastising his investigators, Captain Robert Wallace stood in front of Jerry Monahan, Chief of the Nautilus Beach Police Department. “What's on your mind?”, asked Monahan.

“A vacation and soon”, Wallace replied.

“How soon and for how long?”

“September and for two months”.

“No way”.

“Why not?”

“It's too long away from the job”.

“I'm going to Australia. This is maybe a once in a lifetime trip. There's things I want to do and people I want to see”.

“Who do you know in Australia that's so important that you have to go there to see them?”

“Remember Doc Edwards? I want to visit him and his wife”.

“I can't imagine anyone putting up with you for sixty days. What else are you going to do there?”

“Photograph kangaroos. What the hell difference does it make what I want to do. What I want to do is get to the West coast of Australia. Just sign the card”.

“Let me think about it”.

“What is there to think about. I have accumulated sixty days vacation time. I'm entitled to a vacation and I want sixty days”.

“How is your case load?”

“I have no case load unless you're holding me to an unsolved murder that occurred back in nineteen thirty nine”.

“No robberies or larcenies over ten thousand dollars?”

“Nope”.

“Like I said I'll think about it. Right now it's June. Your request is for September. You can wait”.

Wallace turned and walked out of the office.

After taking the elevator to his office floor Captain Wallace walked past the desk of Sergeant Stiles. “Frank, I want to see you in my office”, said Wallace.

Stiles got up and followed the Captain. Once inside Wallace took a seat and then said, “I'm going on vacation in September. I'll be gone for two months. While I'm away I'm leaving you in charge of the squad. Right now our case load is empty. Let's hope it stays that way. There's a test coming up for Sergeant and Lieutenant. Myers and McKenna are eligible, just as you are for Lieutenant. Use the down time for all of you to study.”

“Two months. What are you going to do for two months?”, asked Stiles.

“Hopefully a lot of fishing in Australia. I'm going to visit Doc Edwards”.

“Hey, that's great. How is he?”

“Happily married and practicing geriatric medicine.”

“He was one damn good pathologist. He sure helped us in a lot of cases. Incidentally, what do you think about that killing in Blood Brook?”

“The only question I have is why isn't the State Police investigating it”, said Wallace.

“There must be a reason”, Stiles replied.

“If there is, it's political. Jim Gallagher wants to be governor. His plan is first, to be Attorney General, then Governor. He's had a long running feud with the Superintendent of the State Police. To me it looks like he wants to take credit in solving this homicide and at the same time shut out the Troopers”, Wallace explained.

When the Sergeant left the office Wallace removed the open letter he had received from Manfred Edwards and read it again.

June 5, 1978

Hello hotshot,

How the hell are you? Nice of you to finally get off of

your ass and write to me. So, you're coming to down under. It's about time. I want you to know that you are always welcome, but at the same time

Your divorce from Mary left a bad taste with Sharon. Also, you mention the possibility of arriving with an Emily Wescoat. Of course she will be welcomed, but the sleeping arrangements might have to be adjusted. Sharon's no prude, but in her mind she's still loyal to Mary. Hopefully, we'll straighten things out before you get here.

As far as fishing I plan on chartering a boat. We'll be fishing in the Indian Ocean. I'll need to know your flight number so I can pick you up in Perth. By the time you get here your ass will be sore from sitting so long while flying. See you later,

Manny

 

July 4, 1978 fell on a Tuesday resulting in a long weekend combining, Saturday, Sunday and Monday with the traditional holiday.

The population of Nautilus Beach increased from it's native population of forty thousand to two hundred and fifty thousand with visitors from Pennsylvania and New York. The results were increased traffic in the streets, drunks, fights, parking violations, noise, trash and disorderly people. Fortunately, although there was two stabbings none resulted in a killing and the Major Crime Squad was not called.

On the night of the fourth of July Robert Wallace and Emily Wescoat stood on the sixth floor balcony of Robert's condo and watched the fireworks being shot from Miller's Pier out over the ocean. Thousands of bystanders lined the boardwalk below and Wallace could hear the ahs and ohs from the spectators as each pyrotechnic exploded in the night sky displaying flashes of different colors. When it was finally over Emily walked back inside and said, “That was nice. Now, I'll get going”.

“Why don't you spend the night. The traffic after the fireworks is going to be horrible. Stay here, get up early, go home, change cloths then go to work”, said Robert”.

“I have no intention of sleeping with you”, she said.

“I don't expect you to. You take the bed, I'll use the pull out couch”.

“I didn't know the couch had a hidden bed”.

“Yep. I use it for guys who usually are too drunk to drive or women too homely to sleep with”.

“So, you're saying I'm homely”.

“Nope, I'm saying in your case I'm a gentleman.”

“Thank you”.

“For what?”

“For being a gentleman”.

 

Wednesday July 5, 1978 James Gallagher looked at the black and white, glossy photographs of Greta Shoemaker's dead body. He stared at the crescent shape wounds in her skull. There appeared to be three injuries, each one deeper than the other. “What can you tell me about what appears to be blows to her head?”, asked the Prosecutor.

Neither Carson or Hudson responded. “I asked a question. Do one of you know about the victims injuries?”, asked Gallagher.

“According to the Medical Examiner the cause of death was trauma to the brain caused by a depressed fracture”, said Carson.

“Give it to me in layman’s terms”.

“Whatever the killer used when striking the head one of the blows fractured the skull in such a way that bone fragments were forced into the brain causing death”, Carson replied.

“Very good. There's hope for you yet”.

Carson smiled.

“I don't know what the hell you're smiling about. These pictures, these photographs were all taken at the county morgue. Not one damn photo of the victim at the crime scene. Alright, too late now. What did you learn from the people you spoke to in Blood Brook”, Gallagher asked.

“Nothing, either no one knew anything or they wouldn't talk to us.

Some wouldn't even open their doors”, said Hudson.

“Truck drivers, nature lovers, hikers, photographers even the curious, did you talk to anyone?”

“I thought you wanted us to talk to the people that live out there”, said Carson.

“Did you at least safeguard the crime scene?”

“Yes sir. The Sheriff has detailed men there”, said Hudson.

“Not bad, considering it's too late. Get out!”

That night, at nine o'clock Dorothy Timberlake sat in her living room watching one of her favorite television shows, Barney Miller. As she sat laughing, unknown to her was the fact that fifty yards away and

hidden by thick pines, someone was watching her. Mosquitoes swarmed and fireflies flashed. Going un-noticed was the glow from a cigarette as the observer made plans.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

Dorothy Timberlake

 

On Wednesday, July 26, 1978 at Ten A.M. Dorothy Timberlake was vacuuming the living room rug. With her back to the front door and the roar of the vacuum cleaner motor running she failed to hear the doorbell ring. She did turn at the sound of someone banging on the front door. She shut off the sweeper and in a loud voice said, “Just a minute!”

When she opened the door she saw a man standing there holding a package wrapped in brown paper. “Miss Dorothy Timberlake?”, he asked.

“Yes, but I'm not expecting anything”, she said.

“Well, according to the address here on box this parcels for you”, he said handing her the package.

Dorothy took the package, turned and took three steps into the living room. “If you'll wait just a moment I'll get my pocketbook and give you something for your trouble”, she said.

A sever blow to the top of her head caused her to stagger. The second blow took her to her knees. The third impact caused her death.

At six pm. on the same day Robert Wallace turned on his television, sat in his recliner and waited for the local news to come into view. When it did he was surprised to learn that another woman had been murdered in the hamlet of Blood Brook. He listened carefully to the answers the county Prosecutor, James Gallagher gave to the television network reporter.

“What can you tell us about the killings in Blood Brook, Mr. Gallagher?, asked the female reporter.

“I can tell you this. My investigators are on top of these hideous crimes and are gathering facts as well as evidence in both the Shoemaker and now the Timberlake cases”.

“Would you say that there is a serial killer on the loose?”

“By definition a serial killer is one who kills three or more people with a cooling off period in between. So, my answer is, no”.

“Can you tell us how these women were killed. The information we have is they were bludgeoned to death. Is that so?”

“I can't comment about that at this time”.

“Do you have any suspects?”

“No comment.”

“Well then, can you say that the people of Blood Brook are safe in their homes?”

“Absolutely, I understand that Sheriff O'Connor has stepped up patrols”.

“I see, is there anything else you would like to say pertaining to these homicides?”

“Anyone with any information related to the deaths of Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake are asked to call 951-6677. This is a special and direct line I have had installed for assistance in these cases. My investigators will take your calls and all information will be kept confidential”.

“Thank you Mr Gallagher. This is Betty Hopkins for Atlantic Television Media in Blood Brook, New Jersey”.

“Horse shit! You don't have a damn thing. If you did you'd be crowing nice and loud in front of the cameras”, said Wallace as he got up and shut off the television. He then went to the ringing telephone on his desk and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”, he said.

“I'm glad I found you at home. You are to report to the County Prosecutor tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. Gallagher requested that you be assigned to him. You're to head the investigation into the two murders that occurred out there in Blood Brook”, said Chief Monahan.

“Why me? I'm not the only homicide investigator in the world. Why doesn't he use the State Police? Besides, I'm getting ready to go on vacation”, Wallace replied.

“He asked for you and he's getting you. Have a nice evening”.

The next morning Captain Robert Wallace sat in front of the desk of James Gallagher, County Prosecutor. “I'm sure you know about the two women being killed in Blood Brook. This is the file my investigators have compiled relating to what they have done so far in the case. I'm sure it will be beneficial in your entry into the investigation. At the same time I will assign my detectives to you. Use them as you see fit. Each piece of evidence, each new witness, each discovery no matter how slight is to be reported to me by you and only you. Now, I think I have covered everything, if not let me know. Do you have any questions?”, said Gallagher.

“I do have one question”, Wallace replied.

“And, that is?”

“What makes you think that I would work under those conditions?”

“Conditions? What conditions?”

“ For starters, handing me a file of worthless information that if I was to take it as important to the investigation would set me back probably twenty four hours. Next, assigning your investigators to me. Your investigators couldn't detect a fart in a telephone booth. Finally, the fact that I'm expected to give you a daily briefing on every move I make isn't going to happen. I don't work that way. If you want to know what I'm doing or plan to do read my reports.”

“I don't think you know who you're talking to, Captain. I'm the top law enforcement officer in the county”.

“And, that's debatable. I hear the same thing from every prosecutor. You were appointed by the governor. The Sheriff was elected by the people. Not that it matters because while you might be the head of law enforcement in the county I'm the head of this investigation. You asked for me, so there must be a reason why. I'm thinking it's because of the success my squad has had in the past. Now, as an educated man I'm sure you're familiar with the adage about the horse being led to water. If not, let me explain. Place me under you thumb and force me to do things your way, then don't expect results. Allow me to operate like I'm use to, then maybe, just maybe together we can solve these cases”.

“I see. It appears that we have a conflict of interest Captain”, said Gallagher with a red face flushed with anger.

“Only if it's a conflict of who is in charge of the investigation”.

“Very well. What do you propose?”

“ I investigate using my squad. They know what and how to do things as a result of experience. If you want your investigators involved I want Maria Donahue. Her role will be to work with Detective Myers and at the same time keep track of any overtime accrued by our personnel associated with the investigation. In addition I use the Nautilus Beach Police Departments Forensic Unit. I will brief you at the end of each working day allowing you to be able to talk to the news media. You know what to say and not say. That's my proposal”.

“What's so special about Maria Donahue?”

“She is one that was sent to the police academy. I trained her. I know her capabilities”.

“And, my other investigators?”

“Not interested”.

“Alright, we'll do it your way, but this is just between you and me”.

“No problem. Now, if I may use your telephone I want to speak to Sergeant Stiles. What is the address of the latest victim?”

“Number one, Tabernacle Road”.

“Thank you”.

At eleven forty five Sergeant Stiles, Carol Myers and Tom McKenna met on the front porch of the house belonging to Dorothy Timberlake.

“Alright, these two cases are assigned to me and when I say me I mean us.

I want to start with the most recent and work our way back. I don't know what we'll find inside. In fact I'm not even sure the two crime scenes were protected. Nonetheless, we'll treat it just like it was new and go from there. Here we go”, Wallace said as he opened the front door.

As he stepped inside the first thing he saw was what appeared to be blood stains on the living room wall paper at a point ten feet from the front door. Looking up he saw the same pattern on the ceiling. He took three steps into the living room and noticed the dark stain on the rug. “I'm assuming this is where her head was when she died. The stains on the wall and ceiling were caused by the striking motion, probably on the second and third blows. Frank, make sure our forensic team gets photos and swabs for human blood in those stains”, said Wallace.

“Got it Cap”, Stiles replied as he wrote notes in his notebook.

“Carol, their will be a Prosecutors investigator assigned to us, Maria Donahue. When she gets here I want both of you to go through the victims personal effects. Look through her clothing, then bills, receipts notices. If you come across jewelry make an inventory list and safeguard it, Donahue can turn it over to her boss and he can give it to any next of kin”.

“Yes sir. I know Maria. It will be nice working with her”.

“Tom, I want you outside. See what you can find, marks on doors or windows, cigarette butts anything unusual”.

“On the way Cap”.

Wallace turned at the sound of a car door being slammed. He went to the front door and saw Maria Donahue. She walked to the front porch where she saw Captain Wallace standing. “Hello Maria, how have you been?”

“Fine Captain. I want to thank you for requesting me to work on this case. I appreciate it”.

“No, problem. I figured that rather than filing papers and counting paper clips you would like to do some real live police work”. Let me introduce you to Sergeant Stiles. If and when I'm not here, he's in charge. I believe you know Carol. You two will be working together. She'll tell you what I want done. Your other duties are keeping track of all overtime for our squad members, you and anyone else I might assign to this investigation. Tom Mckenna is out back when he comes in you can meet him”.

“Nice to meet you”, said Stiles.

“Hi Maria. We finally get to work together. Come on, we might as well get started. We'll start in the bedroom. I'll tell you what the Captain wants us to do”, said Myers.

Wallace went back inside. Standing in the middle of the living room he carefully surveyed the room. Once again he looked at the blood stains.

Then at the furniture. Everything was arranged neatly. There was no sign of a struggle. He turned and looked at the front door again. Walking up to it he saw would could be blood stains.

“Find something Cap?”, asked Stiles.

“Possibly. It appears that the killer stood just inside the open front door. When he struck the victim his first blow probably caused a laceration of the skull. Since the skin in the scalp is thin, blood began to ooze or flow.

There must have been more than a single blow. When the killer struck the victim a second time the murder weapon gathered some of the blood from the victims head. Then, while raising the weapon swiftly in order to strike for the third and final time blood droplets were thrown off of the weapon.

The blood drops flew in the air. The blood here on the door are a result of being deposited on the back swing. The stains on the wall and ceiling were from the fast, forward motion of the third impact.”. Wallace slowly walked around the dark stain on the living room rug. Standing between the door and the stain he raised and lowered his arm quickly three times reproducing the killers actions. “It appears the suspect stood here, a few feet from the doorway. Make a note of that, will you Frank?, asked Wallace as he removed a piece of chalk from his trouser pocket and made a large, X on the floor where he thought the killer had stood.

“How do you know that the killer struck her three times?”, asked Stiles.

“I don't actually know. I'm basing my theory on the findings of Doctor Wescoat who found three crescent shaped wounds in the head of Greta Shoemaker. You and I will examine Mrs. Shoemaker's body later”.

Detective Myers entered the room. “Captain we are going to be a while. Dorothy Timberlake had a lot of jewelry, most of which appears to be expensive and I would guess them to be antique as well. We are making a list of everything we found, but to be on the safe side I'd like to have photographs of each individual piece. That way each piece will coincide with each photo”, She said.

“Good idea. Frank call headquarters and have our crime scene investigators come out here”.

When Myers returned to the bedroom and Stiles went outside to use the radio. Wallace noticed a large package wrapped in brown, wrapping paper on the sofa. He went to it and noticed what appeared to be three, dry, dark blood stains on the brown paper. He also read the handwritten name and address on the parcel, Dorothy Timberlake, #1 Tabernacle Road, Blood Brook, N.J.

“Odd,” he thought to himself. “There's blood on the package, yet the package is here on the sofa. Someone evidently moved it”. Wallace made a note of his findings. He then went to the black, walnut desk situated in the coroner of the living room, took a seat and then after opening the large drawer began going though all of the papers and envelopes he found.

Frank Stiles walked back into the house. “Lieutenant Campo is on the way. She wants to know what has top priority, this crime scene, the Shoemaker home or any rape, robbery or homicide that might occur in Nautilus Beach?”, he said.

“She has a good point. If that happens she can ask Chief Monahan or Mr. Gallagher”, Wallace answered.

“Is there anything you want me to do?”, asked Stiles.

“Check on McKenna outside”.

When Stiles left, Wallace looked at a stack of paid bill receipts from the Atlantic City Electric Company, New Jersey Bell Telephone and Gas-Pro along with bank statements from the Guarantee Trust. He didn't find anything out of the ordinary. He then opened a large envelope and found one thousand dollars consisting of twenty dollar bills. Still. He had the feeling that he was missing something. He found a folded paper yellowed with age at the bottom of the pile unfolded it and read, “You are hereby notified that you have been selected for jury service in the State Trial Courts of Atlantic County, State of New Jersey. You are ordered to report on”. The rest of the wording as unidentifiable, the words faded and obliterated by damage caused over time by repeated folding and unfolding. He could make out part of the court case number, 4971 and the first name of the defendant, Adam.

About an hour later the Crime Scene Investigative Unit arrived from Nautilus Beach. Wallace walked outside and stood on the porch waiting for Lieutenant Campo. June Campo seeing Wallace said, “Don't I have enough work to do and now I have to do the county's work too?”

“You and me both. Hell, I'm trying to go on vacation”. Wallace answered.

“Good luck with that. Now, show me what you want so I can get on with it and get out of these woods. I'm a city gal”.

“Follow me.

Once inside Wallace pointed to the blood stains on the door, wall and ceiling. “ First of all I need proof that those stains are actually human blood. I'll worry about blood type later with the medical examiner”. Walking to the sofa he pointed to the wrapped parcel. “I'd like a photo of that handwritten name and address. Also dust it for latent prints. I doubt if you'll find anything other than the victims prints, but you never know. If the killer made a mistake handling the package he probably did it touching the box inside. Lastly, Detective Myers is taking inventory of the victims jewelry . She suspects that much of it is valuable and antique. She needs the photos matching each piece with the inventory. I also want a photo of the cash I found. I'll register the serial numbers on each bill later. Other than that unless Stiles and Mckenna find something outside I can't think of anything else you need to do”.

“O.K. let us get started”, Campo replied.

Wallace then went outside and walked to the backyard. There he found Sergeant Stiles and Detective McKenna in an old weathered garage. “Find anything?”, Wallace asked.

“Lots of chicken wire and wooden egg crates”, Stiles answered.

“ After World War Two some Jewish refugees came into this area and established chicken farms. Dorothy Timberlake's husband might have been in the business of supplying those farms.”, Wallace replied.

“Did you find anything inside Cap?”, asked McKenna.

“It's safe to say the motive wasn't robbery. Myers found what appears to be valuable jewelry and I fond a stash of twenty dollar bills amounting to a thousand dollars”.

“Looks like Mrs. Timberlake didn't believe in banks”, said Stiles.

“On the contrary, she had two accounts with Guarantee Trust. A savings account as well as checking”, said Wallace.

“Then why the stash of twenties?”, asked McKenna.

“I don't know yet”, Wallace replied.

“What's next Captain?”, asked Stiles.

“Except for forensics, we're done here. Now, we'll take a look at the Shoemaker place, even though it was unprotected for a time we still just might find something. You two head over there. I'll tell Myers and Donahue to join us when they're finished here”.

Wallace followed the two men walking down the side of the house.

When they neared the driveway he noticed a deep depression in the grass. “Hold it!”, he said.

“Find something?”, asked Stiles.

“Yes, it appears to be a tire impression”, he said as he knelt on one knee in order to get a better look.

Stiles, standing over Wallace looked at the mark in the grass. “Damn if it isn't. The question is who and what made it”.

“I don't know. Another question is why is it here on the lawn. There is a crushed stone driveway. Why not use it?”Wallace replied.

Captain Wallace stood up and looked towards the front of the house. He saw the front door and the large, picture window. “It appears that whoever parked here did so for a purpose. I'm betting that purpose

was to avoid being seen by Mrs. Timberlake”.

“Why?”, asked Tom.

“ It's a wild guess, but let's try and imitate the killer's moves.

He pulls up here on the side lawn. Why? Because Greta Shoemaker might see him from the living room. He removes the large package and something else”, said Wallace.

“What, something else?”, asked Stiles.

“The murder weapon. Think about it. He's not concerned about her seeing the parcel, after all he intends to hand it to her. On the other hand, if she sees whatever else is in his hand she might be reluctant to open the door. In all probability the weapon is large. When I say large I'm assuming that it's long. He has to carry both the package and the weapon. How does he hide it from view? He can't place it on top of the parcel or for that matter on either side. The only place he can keep it from view is underneath the wrapped box.”

“Makes a lot of sense”, said Stiles.

“Yes it does. Tom, go inside and tell Lieutenant Campo what we have found and that I want photographs taken of this tire tread mark. I also want a tape measure or ruler”.

“Yes sir”.

Ten minutes later McKenna handed a twelve inch ruler to Wallace. “Ah, metric. Good”, he said as he knelt down again and began measuring the deep depression in the grass and soil. “Looks like 187 millimeters or 7.36220472 inches”, the Captain said smiling. “Frank write that down and include the date and time”.

“Yes sir”.

“Good, not that it means anything. All it indicates is that the tire in all probability is a seven by fifteen and there are only a couple of million of them on the road. Alright I'm going to head over to the Shoemaker place. Tom you come over there after photo's are taken of this impression. Frank you come with me”.

Fifteen minutes later Wallace pulled into the gray, crushed stone driveway of the only house on Weymouth Road. When he entered the living room the first thing he looked for was blood stains and he found them. Just like those in the Timberlake home blood had been splattered on the wall across from the front door, the ceiling and the inside of the front door. The only thing different was the dark blood stain on the rug was closer to the front door, the place where Greta Shoemaker had died, face down. Taking his notebook and ballpoint pen from his inside blazer pocket he made notes of his findings. Next, he scanned the area looking for what he believed would be there. Then, he found it, a package wrapped in brown wrapping paper. He walked over to it leaned over and read, Greta Shoemaker, #7 Weymouth Road, Blood Brook, N.J.

Sergeant Stiles saw Wallace looking at the parcel. “Find something Cap?”, he asked.

“Yes, the way the killer gained entry. He arrived at the front door of both homes of the victims. He either knocks or rings the bell. The women answered by opening the door. He tells them he's there to deliver a package. They take it from him and turn to put it down somewhere. When they turned away from him, he struck. The question is why?”

“It makes sense, but why did he hit each woman three times in the head. Both women were middle aged and slightly built. They both probably died with the first or second blow”, Stiles said.

“Probably to make sure they were dead”, Wallace answered.

Wallace turned to the Deputy Sheriff who had been guarding the crime scene. “Did you or someone else move that box and put it on the coffee table?”, he asked.

“I know I didn't. It was on the table when I came on duty”, answered the deputy.

“Didn't the victims son find the body?”, asked Mckenna.

“That's what I've heard”, Wallace answered.

“Maybe he moved it”, suggested McKenna.

“Possibly, I do know that both packages have been moved. Both should be just a few feet from the front doorway. Instead, one is on a couch the other on a coffee table”.

“There's nothing worse then having to go into court and testify that the crime scene first of all was not protected and second of all that items that are evidence have been touched and moved”, said Stiles.

“And in particular, by persons unknown”, Wallace added.

“What do you want me to do Captain?”, asked McKenna who had arrived and joined Wallace and Stiles.

“Just the same as the Timberlake place. Check outside”.

“Yes sir”.

“Deputy? What's your name?”, asked Wallace.

“Wilson. Norman Wilson sir”.

“How would you like to get out of here for a while?”

“Yes sir. This boring duty”.

“I agree but necessary. Have you had lunch yet?”

“No sir”.

“Good. I spotted a small restaurant about three miles down the road. Would you mind driving down there and pick up five cups of black coffee, creamers and sugar, ten assorted sandwiches and what ever you want for yourself?, asked Wallace.”

“No sir. I'd like to get out of here.”

“Good, here's fifty dollars. Bring me a receipt and the change. He doesn’t know it yet, but the prosecutor just bought lunch”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

Comparisons

 

On Monday, July 31, 1978 members of the Nautilus Beach Major Crime Squad met in the conference room at nine o'clock that morning.

Captain Wallace finished eating a lemon filled doughnut along with a cup of coffee. He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, stood up from the table and walked to the large, green, chalkboard. “If I could have your attention I want to go over what facts and evidence we have so far in this case. I should say cases, since we have two homicides, but there is little doubt that both women were killed by the same individual. Let's start with the Timberlake case. First, we know that robbery was not the motive since valuable jewelry and a thousand dollars in cash was found in the house.

Both women opened their door when the killer using a brown paper wrapped parcel and pretending to being a delivery man gains entry. It appears that when the women turned with their back to the killer they are struck with a weapon or instrument if you will, that leaves a crescent shaped wound. The killer struck each victim three times. The question is, did he do it in anger or to make certain the individual was dead?”.

“I would say that he intended to make sure each woman was dead. It's unlikely that if he was striking in anger that the number of blows would be the exactly the same”, said Stiles.

“A good point Frank”, said Wallace.

“Can we talk about the packages at this point?”, asked McKenna.

“Certainly, what about them?”, asked Wallace.

“Each package was addressed. One package had Number seven Weymouth Road and the other had number one Tabernacle road”, said Tom.

“And your point is?”, asked Wallace.

“Blood Brook is a close knit community of people who keep themselves isolated from mainstream society as much as possible. They do not put numbers on the front of their homes. They do that for privacy and to confuse bill collectors and the police. Yet, the killer knew the exact address of each woman”.

“Good observation Tom', said Wallace.

“Homer Shoemaker found his mothers body. Who found the Timberlake woman?”, asked Donahue.

“Two women, Cora Jenkins and Amanda Perkins. They stopped by for a visit. When there was no answer at the front door they looked through the large picture window and saw Dorothy Timberlake on the floor. Amanda stayed at the home while Cora went to a neighbors home and called the Sheriff”, said the Captain.

“Why the Sheriff and not the State Police?”, asked Stiles.

“We don't know yet”, Wallace answered.

“Why not?”, asked Stiles.

“Because Mrs. Jenkins in a state of excitement might have thought of the Sheriff first and possibly the Township might have selected the County Sheriff to provide law enforcement in Blood Brook in order to save money. I'm looking into it”, Wallace answered.

“What about the weapon used. You said that whatever it is it left a crescent shaped wound. Does anyone have any idea what it might be?”, asked Myers.

“What about a crescent wrench?”, suggested McKenna.

“Possibly, however it had to be a long crescent wrench”, Wallace responded.

“Why?”, asked McKenna.

“Because of the pattern of splattered blood on the ceilings and walls along with the skull fracture. The instrument is longer then an ordinary crescent wrench. Say between twenty four to thirty inches long, but I'm just guessing”, Wallace answered.

“Anything else Cap?”, asked Stiles.

“Yes, there seems to be a connection between the two women. What that is might tell us something. Right now when you make a comparison we come up with, they are both middle aged. Both of them are widows. Each one lived alone. They were killed in the same manner and with the same instrument no doubt at this time by the same killer. Find the connection, we find a motive. Finding the motive then should put us on the path of identifying the killer”.

“What about the tire tread print?”, asked Tom.

“I'm glad you asked. Here are the copies of the photo's taken. Tom, I want you to go to every automobile dealer and auto supply stores selling tires and see if anyone can tell us the manufacturer and hopefully what auto company put them on their vehicles”.

That evening, Wallace sat at the kitchen table of Emily Wescoat.

“Let me ask you something. Did you or anyone else take photographs of the wounds to Greta Shoemakers head?”, he asked.

“I sure didn't. I don't know if anyone else did or not”, Emily answered.

“I should have known by the way the crime scene was handled”, said Wallace.

“Since you mentioned the wounds they must be important to you”.

“They are Emily. Right now I'm trying to figure out what he beat those women with. What ever it is, it's different. If I had a photo maybe someone else or me could determine what he used. I went to the morgue hoping to see for myself Greta Shoemakers injuries. By the time I got involved in her case she has been buried. Now, I’m counting on photographs.”

“As I recall and I believe I told you this, that the wounds, there were two that were distinctive and crescent shaped. Now, that I think about it there was something within the crescent, a lump or a small bulge.”

“Interesting, still, no cigar. Nothing that I know of comes anywhere near that description. Oh well. Too late now. Greta Shoemaker has been buried and Dorothy Timberlake has been cremated”.

“Maybe Doctor Shell took photographs”.

“I doubt it. You didn't”.

“No, but I took measurements”.

“You did? Do you remember what they were?”
“Not exactly, but I do know two of the wounds were over twelve millimeters or two inches and I'm talking about the crescent shape point to point.”

“What do you mean point to point?”

“Imagine a capital C. Then, visualize the point at the top of the C and then the point at the bottom of the C. The space In between those two points is slightly over two inches”.

“Not perfect, but it will have to do. Now, if Doc Shell took photos or at least measurement of the wounds of Dorothy Timberlake and they are exactly of close to those you took we might have something to work with in looking for what type of weapon was used.”

“If you'd like I'll call doctor Shell in the morning and see what he did and has in relation to the wounds”.

At ten a.m. the next morning Captain Wallace sat in James Gallagher's office. “I hope the hell you've got something worthwhile to tell me. The press is killing me in the papers and each night, every night every channel on television keeps these two homicides in the public’s mind”, said Gallagher.

“Well, it appears that you're going to be greatly disappointed this morning”, Wallace replied.

“Don't tell me that. You must have come up with something, some type of lead, a new piece of evidence”.

“The reason I'm here is I found an old, worn, court summons dated April 1965. I can't make out the actual April day, but I do have a case number. It's 4971”.

“And?”

“And since you're the County Prosecutor I want you to reach into whatever court or public records that can tell me what that case was all about and who participated in it”.

Gallagher leaned forward and wrote the case number on a sheet of paper. “The date again?”, he asked.

“April something, 1965”.

“Anything else?”

“Right now we're trying to figure out what was used as the murder weapon. As far as I know no photographs were taken of the victim at the crime scene. Had they been taken the appearance of the fatal wounds could possibly give us a clue to just what was used”, Wallace explained.

“Would photographs taken at the morgue help?”

“Certainly”.

Gallagher reached into a desk drawer and removed several black and white glossy photographs. “These are pictures of Greta Shoemaker. All I know is that they were taken at the morgue. Hell, I don't even know who took them”.

Wallace shook his head in disgust. “Just when in hell did you plan in giving me these? We're busting our ass in these cases and you're sitting on evidence”.

“You have two cases to worry about. Have you any idea just how large our case load is?”, said Gallagher as he handed the photos to Wallace.

“Before I take them, turn them over write the date and time and your initials. Chain of evidence Mr. Gallagher”, said Wallace. Back in his own office Wallace using a large magnifying glass studied the photos of the crescent shaped wounds in Greta Shoemakers head. Whatever had caused the injuries and left the marks was puzzling. Naturally, the first thing to come to mind was a crescent wrench but although close in appearance the marks left were different. Inside the crescent shape was something else, just as Emily had said, a small protrusion. When the telephone on his desk rang he put the magnifying glass down and picked up the receiver. “Captain Wallace”, he said.

“So, you're finally at your desk. I've been calling all morning”, said Emily.

“I was with Gallagher”.

“Anyway, I called Doctor Shell. He had photographs taken of the wounds to Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake at the morgue. Naturally he's willing to give you copies”.

“I already have the Shoemaker photos. Gallagher had them in his desk drawer”.

“Really?”

“Yep”.

“Do they help?”

“Not really, but they're just as you described them, a C shape with a slight bulge inside the crescent”.

“I wish I could help you, but I don't know anything about tools except a hammer and screwdriver”.

“Thanks anyway”.

August went quickly by as did Labor Day in September. By the second week of the month there had been nothing new or of importance in the two homicides under investigation. Detective Myers and Investigator Donahue tried to question the residents of Blood Brook in an attempt to gain any information. They were met by a wall of silence. The people either refused to open their door or maintained the fact that they knew nothing about the two women victims.

On the morning of Tuesday, September 12, 1978 Wallace called James Gallagher. He was told that the prosecutor could take no calls as he was tied up preparing cases going to trial and for the Captain to leave a message. “Tell Mr. Gallagher he can talk to me or tell the press why this investigation is going no where”, Wallace said as he slammed down the telephone receiver. Ten minutes later Gallagher called. “What's on your mind, Captain”, he asked.

“ Sometime ago I asked you to look into the old court summons I found with the case number 4971 and the faded date April, something, 1965. I'm interested into what you found”, said Wallace.

“Surely you know that as a matter of rule once a court case is finalized the records of the trail and case are usually sealed. Knowing this I considered it a waste of time to go any further into the matter”, Gallagher replied.

“And, I bet you considered it a waste of time to inform me of that fact”, Wallace responded.

“Not quite, but since it was and is a legal matter I saw no need to inform you”.

“Dorothy Timberlake received a summons for jury duty for a court case that occurred in April, 1965. that could mean that she was to appear to serve on a jury. I want to know if she did or not. Either way I need to know if she appeared. The information I want, no, make that I need, is in the records of a case number 4971.”

“As I have already told you. The records are probably sealed. I understand your concern and interest in the matter, but I would have to petition the courts and present a reason and need for the court records of case number 4971 to be opened”.

“Then I suggest that you do just that. I need the information related to that case number. Good or bad. Please call me when you have it'. Wallace placed the receiver on the cradle. He looked up when Detective Myers knocked on his open, office door. “What's up kid?”, he asked.

“Thanks for the compliment. We're finished updating our reports. I thought you'd might want to read them”, she said.

“Of course. Just put them here on my desk. Right now I'm trying to ascertain what court action if any occurred during the month of April, 1965”, he replied.

After Myers left the office Wallace picked up the telephone receiver again and dialed a number. After three rings he heard a familiar voice say,”Hello?”

“Are you busy?”, he asked.

“I'm always busy. Right now I'm working on a novel”.

“And, I bet you already have an advance from your publisher”.

“Did you call seeking alimony?”

“Not yet. I'm calling because I need a favor”.

“And, that is?”

“I need you to look at and review newspaper articles dealing with any serious crimes that occurred either in 1963,64 and possibly early 1965.”

“In Nautilus Beach, or the entire county?”

“Both”.

“Alright, give me some time. As I said I'm working on a novel. Right now the words are flowing nicely so I don't need any interruptions. At the same time you know I only write for the Press as a freelancer, so I don't want to wear out my welcome with the editor, but I'll see what I can do”.

“Thanks Mary, I appreciate it. How are you?”

“Fine, how about yourself?”

“Busy,”

“So I heard”.

“What does that mean?”

“I heard that you're planning a trip to Australia”.

“You must have heard from Sharon”.

“I did. She also told me that you plan to visit along with a Doctor Emily Wescoat”.

“I'm glad she's keeping you informed”.

“I don't need her to tell me what you're doing. Lot's of people just love to tell me what's happening with you”.

“Hey, I'll make it easy for you. If you want to know anything about me or what I'm doing, just ask.”

“I know that you've been running with Emily Wescoat for some time now”.

“We have a friendship, but I wouldn't call it as running”.

“Have you slept with her?”

“A gentleman never discusses those kind of things”.

“The fact that you answered the question that way tells me that you did. Oh, well, no matter to me. Like I said the words are flowing. I need to get back to work. When I have anything after checking the newspapers I'll call you. Good by Robert”.

Wallace heard the loud click made by Mary Wagner disconnecting the call.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

A Matter Of Law

 

Monday, October 2, 1978 started the same way when Captain

Robert Wallace was involved in an investigation, particularity when the investigation was related to a homicide. He would begin by either physically or mentally review each step that had been made. He was becoming frustrated. They had made no headway in identifying a suspect, motive or murder weapon. At the same time he felt that the county prosecutor was dragging his feet delaying in finding information that he thought was important to the case, Dorothy Timberlake's jury duty summons. He wanted to know, he needed to know that information. Also, McKenna had nothing to report on the tire tread impression found at the Timberlake home. Finally, his ex-wife Mary had not contacted him about finding anything relatively important to Blood Brook, New Jersey or the two murder victims.

It was two twenty five in the afternoon when James Gallagher returned Captain Wallace's telephone call. When the telephone on his desk rang Wallace answered with, “Major Crime Squad, Captain Wallace”.

“Captain? Jim Gallagher. What's on your mind that's so important that according to my secretary I had to return your call as soon as possible?”

“I must have left the impression that your call was urgent. It's not, but at the same time it is important”, said Wallace.

“And that is?”

“Sometime ago, as a matter of fact, last month I requested that you look into Criminal court Case 4971. I wanted to know what the case was, who the defendant was, whether or not Dorothy Timberlake was selected for the jury along with the names of the other jury members. To date, I've got nothing, no information and no response from you”.

“You don't seem to be aware of the law protecting jury members Captain. Such as the fact that the law specifically states and I quote.“A judge may decide to conceal the private information of jurors in a criminal case. They may choose to block public access to juror names and addresses in situations where public knowledge of jurors may present some concerns. These situations can include: The criminal defendant in the case is considered to be extremely dangerous and may present a threat of retaliation against the jurors or their loved ones.

The criminal defendant is known to have a history of intimidating, bribing or harming jurors or their alternates.

The candidates for jury have informed the court that they are seriously concerned about releasing their name or personal contact information to the public.

In high-profile cases, disclosing juror information can sometimes attract undesirable media attention or intrusion.”

“By the sound of your voice on the telephone I detected that you were reading from some legal text and since you question my knowledge of the law protecting jury members let me say this. While juror information may be withheld from the public during the trial, it is usually released once a final verdict has been reached. Since the case I'm interested in was heard in April 1965 I think you will agree that a verdict should have been reached by now. At the same time I'm sure that you are familiar with Voir dire which refers to the process of jury selection. As I understand it, and I readily admit that I am not a lawyer, as I understand it, once a jury is chosen, the public has a right to access the names and addresses of all jurors and their alternates . The information is available in the public record and transcripts of the so called, voir dire jury selection proceeding can also be obtained. And, let me add this. Both the first Amendment and court rulings grant public access to transcripts from any preliminary hearings regarding jurors”.

“And where may I ask did you come up with this information?”, asked Gallagher.

“Probably from the same law book you were reading to me. Now, here's what we can do. Notice that I use the word we. I say we with all intentions of you and I working together to try to solve these two homicides. However, should you now or in the future decide that you don't want to work, make that co-operate with me, then I suggest we part ways. I go back to my department and you do what ever you want to do in relation to the Shoemaker and Timberlake women. It's up to you. If you want a solution to these cases then get me the information I need from the court”.

After a long, silent pause Gallagher said, “What you want will take some time. Be patient”.

Unfortunately Mr. Gallagher, patience is not one of my virtues. Have a nice day”.

After hanging up the receiver Wallace looked up to see Tom Mckenna coming through the office door. He had a large grin on his face.

“What are you so happy about?”, the Captain asked.

“I got an answer on the tire tread impression”, said Tom.

“Let me hear it. I need any good news I can get for the moment. It is good news isn't it?”

“I think so. When I took the photographs of the tire tread marks to the auto dealers and auto-parts stores, one guy suggested that I send copies to the tire manufacturers. I did and on department stationery told them what I was looking for. Right here is the answer”.

“Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?”

“Captain, that tire tread was positively identified by the Firestone Tire Company in Akron, Ohio as one of theirs. It was manufactured last year, 1977. Here's the important part. Most of them were sold to the Ford Motor Company where they were placed on the new, 1977, Ford, Bronco”.

“Interesting, at least it's a new lead. However, Ford might have built several thousand Bronco's. Good luck finding the right one”.

“There might be thousands of Bronco's out there. The question is, how many Ford Bronco's are registered in Atlantic or Cape May County?”, offered McKenna.

“I don't know, but you're about to find out. Start checking with motor vehicle registration”.

“Thanks a lot”.

“You're welcome”.

Shortly after Mckenna left, Maria Donahue entered the Captain's Office. “I have the overtime reports for August and September if you would like to see them”, she said.

“Give it to me gently. How bad is it?”, he asked.

“For you, not too bad. For Mr. Gallagher it will be a little upsetting”.

“Well, Mr. Gallagher will have to grin and bare it. This is what he wanted. Anyway, are you learning anything worthwhile?”

“Yes sir. As you know this is my first homicide investigation. I'm not use to blood, dead bodies and violence. I always knew it was out there, but in a different world that I was use to”.

“Maria, I've been doing this for a lot of years. You never get use to it. You just do your job. Hopefully you find out who or what was responsible and then you go on to the next one”.

Captain Wallace was interrupted when Sergeant Stiles entered the office.

“Do you want something, Frank?”, asked Wallace.

“No sir. I was just sitting at my desk and running things through my mind. It came to me that there have been no other killings after the month of July'.

“And?”

“I don't think this guy is a serial killer. Instead, I believe he's finished killing. Of course there has to be a reason for the murders, but I think there is some kind of connection between him and the victims”.

“I agree. So, we keep digging. Hopefully down the line we can make that connection. Anything else?

“Not at the moment. Like you, I can't figure out what the heck the murder weapon can be.”

“Well, you know from experience that sooner or later a break in the case usually happens. In this case we just have to wait and see”.

That evening after dinner Wallace dialed Mary Wagner's telephone number.

“Hello”?

“Hi, listen I don't want to be a pain in the ass, but I was wondering if you came up with anything about Blood Brook?”, he replied.

“Nothing concrete. I found a small article about a chicken farmer named Emanuel Weiss who was stabbed to death with a pitchfork. It seems the victim was a Jewish refugee who had been imprisoned at Bergan-Belsen concentration camp. It appears to be the first report of the murder to be printed. Hopefully, there is more. I'm still looking, that's why I haven't called you. Knowing that you would want all the information”.

“I see. Do you have a date with the article?”

“ November 13, 1963”.

“Does it mention Blood Brook?”

“No, only that the farm was located near Tabernacle”.

“That's pretty close”.

“Really, I wouldn't know”.

“Alright, thanks. I appreciate it”.

“You're welcome. How are you doing with planning your trip to see Manny and Sharon?”

“My plans are on hold. The Chief and the prosecutor have me wrapped up until I either break the case or take the blame for not being able to solve it”.

“I don't recall you ever taking the blame for anything”

“Sure I have”.

“Like what?”

“Our divorce”.

“Really, you're willing to accept the blame for ending our marriage?”

“Yep”.

“Then tell me Robert. Do you regret it?”

“Good by Mary. I'll be in touch”.

“The next day Captain Wallace made his way through tall weeds and bramble bushes as he approached the old, dilapidated remains of the chicken coops that once belonged to Emanuel Weiss. The walls of the coops had been built using cinder block. They still stood, only the tar paper covered roof caved in now and the wire had deteriorated. He had been able to find the chicken farm and its owner by checking county records. After that he followed Burnt House Road to a place called, Shamong. It was there on the edge of Wharton State Forest that Weiss had built his farm.

Once inside the largest coop Wallace stood removing burrs from his clothing. He then looked around taking note of the interior. The question he had in his mind was whether or not Emanuel Weiss was killed in his house or in one of the coops. He doubted that the murder had occurred in the house owned by Weiss. Mary had said that the news article said that Weiss had been stabbed to death with a pitchfork. In all probability the murder happened either in one of the coops or just outside of them. Naturally, like all homicides the questions were who and why? He already knew the when? It had happened on November 13, 1963.

His concentration was interrupted when a voice behind him said, “Mind telling me just who in hell you are and what you're doing on my property?”

Wallace turned abruptly and saw a tall, thin, elderly man standing just outside of the chicken coops. He had white hair and a short beard to match. Dressed in blue overalls, a red and white checkered shirt and high top black shoes his deep blue eyes seemed to reveal aggravation in his demeanor .

“As a matter of fact, I don't mind at all. “I am Captain Robert Wallace of the Nautilus Beach Police Department. Currently I'm assigned to the Atlantic County Prosecutors Office. I'm investigating two murders that happened over in Blood Brook”.

“That only answers one of my questions. Why are you on my property?”

“Looking for information and answers”.

“Got a warrant?”

“No”.

“Seems to me that you got a lot of sauce just walkin up onto my property and nose around without my permission”.

“I apologize. When I checked the county records this property was recorded as belonging to Emanuel Weiss”.

“Well it don't now. It belong to me”.

“I see, and you are?”

“None of your damn business”.

“You mean you won't tell me your name?”

“That's right. I talk to you and answer some of your dumb questions next thing I know my ass is in court testifying. You know my name, you send me a summons. Tell you right now, don't know nothing about them murders over in Blood Brook. Further more if I did I wouldn't say”.

“Well, whoever you are you might be obstructing justice”.

“That may be. I might be old. Even uneducated some might say. But I know this. You're standing on my property without a search warrant telling me that you're working for the prosecutor of Atlantic County. That right?'

“Yes”.

“Only problem young fella, this here where you're standing is in Burlington County. Know what that means? It means you got little or no jurisdiction.”

“I understand, but I'm wondering if you could tell me if you knew who killed Emanuel Weiss”?

“Well, I'll be a son of a bitch if that don't beat all. You don't either listen well or you don't give an ounce of owl shit to what I just told you. Now, once and for all, get the hell off of my property”.

Wallace moved slowly out of the chicken coops. Once outside he looked for a better way to walk rather then move through the thickets again.

“Don't be taking your time. Go out the same way you come in. And, don't be comin back this way again”, said the old man.

“I'll tell you this. If I do, I'll have that warrant you're so concerned about”, Wallace replied.

Leaving Shamong Wallace decided that since he was in the area he would visit both crime scenes in Blood Brook. The first stop he made was at the Shoemaker residence. After parking the car he began slowly walking down the side of the house staying on the lawn that needed cutting now.

As he walked he made a mental note of what he was seeing and at that point he wasn't seeing anything new. When he reached the backyard he noticed the vegetable garden now in need of weeding. The remains of dried, rotten tomatoes lay on the ground. If there was anything worth saving it had to be root vegetables, carrots, maybe potatoes. He then observed the back porch, a porch weathered and in need of a coat of paint. Stacked just outside the back door was a wooden box filled with glass mason jars of various sizes. Evidently Greta Shoemaker liked to can the produce she bought and grew. On the other side of the porch stood a tall, propane gas tank. Although most of the homes in Blood Brook where heated by electricity which was used as well as a cooking source. Some women preferred cooking with gas. Mrs. Shoemaker was one. Wallace walked up onto the porch then stood looking at the propane set up. He was curious since he grew up living in apartments and condominiums and was use to gas supplied by the South Jersey Gas Company. He noticed the thin tubing that went from the propane tank into and through a small hole drilled in the outside wall of the kitchen. The hole had then been caulked neatly to prevent moisture and insects from entering the interior. Stepping off of the porch he then made his way down the other side of the house. As he walked to his automobile he visually examined each side window.

Arriving at the Timberlake place he did the same thing. He walked the same way, down on side of the house then into the backyard. The first thing he noticed was the large, propane tank. With a tank that size he believed that Dorothy Timberlake also used gas for cooking. What bothered him was the fact that early in his investigation he had failed to notice the tank. If he had, he didn't remember it. Still, he examined the set up. It appeared that the tube was installed in the same manner as the Shoemaker place, he thought to himself.

Back in his office he sat at his desk thinking. “What can I do next? Right now I'm at a stand still. Gallagher is dragging his feet on the court information I need. No latent prints were found on either the wrapped package or the empty box inside and Mary still hasn't found any more news articles on the murder of the chicken farmer”. His thoughts were interrupted when Stiles walked into the office. “How did you make out this morning?”, asked Stiles.

“Piss poor. Some Piney farmer ordered me off of his property. The sad thing is that he was within his rights and he knew it”.

“So you came up empty?”

“For the time being.”

“So, where do we go from here?”

“Right now, I don't know. “

“Myers suggested having the handwriting found on the two packages analyzed”.

“Any good defense attorney could turn the findings into a carnival trick. What's it going to tell us? That the writing is masculine? We already know that. That he's aggressive? No shit, he beat two women to death. How's that for aggression?”

“I'm just trying to help, trying to come up with something, anything new or a factor we might have missed”.

“Thanks Frank”.

“How about the tire tread information?”

“Evidently McKenna hasn't come up with anything new. Supposedly, that tire mark was made by a Ford Bronco”.

“And, we still don't know what the killer used for a weapon”.

“Hey this isn't the first time that we have hit a brick wall in an investigation and it won't be the last. Sooner or later things will come together and doors will open. They always do”.

The conversation between the two men was interrupted when the telephone on Captain Wallace's desk rang. Picking up the receiver Wallace answered, “Major Crime Squad, Captain Wallace”.

“Robert, this is Mary. I think I found some more information on the chicken farmer murder”.

“Right now I need any information I can get. What have you got?”

“Emanuel Weiss was killed by A man named Adam Grisle. Grisle was the handyman on the farm. It seems that there was an argument over wages. Grisle thught he was being cheated. During the argument that got heated Grisle picked up a pitchfork and stabbed Weiss, killing him.”.

“Let me stop you right there. Does the article mention who investigated?”

“Yes, the State Police”.

“O.K. go ahead. What else do you have?”

“Evidently it took sometime before the case went to trial. The news report goes from the time of the murder, 1963 to the verdict in the trial which is 1965. Adam Grisle was found guilty in the first degree and sentenced to life in prison”.

“Is that it?”

“Isn't that what you wanted?”

“Yes, thank you. I was just wondering if there was more?”

“I can keep looking if you want”.

“I'd appreciate it if you would”.

“I'll see what I can find. I'll call you if and when I do”.

“Thanks Mary”.

“Bye”.

As he placed the receiver back on the cradle Wallace looked at Stiles and said, “Remember what I said about doors opening? Well, one just opened a crack. Let's hope that we can look through that crack and begin to see a complete picture”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

Public Access

 

At nine o'clock in the morning of Tuesday, October 10, 1978 Captain Wallace called Sergeant Frank Stiles to come into his office. Stiles, holding a cup of coffee and with powdered sugar from a doughnut he had ate still on his lips entered and said, “Morning Cap. What's up?”

“I was up most of the night thinking about this case. I want to know more about Adam Grisle”, said Wallace.

“Like what?”

“Like where is he?”

“He's in prison. We know that”.

“What prison?'

“Why do you want that information?”

“If I know where he is I can go there and talk to him”.

“About what?”

“His connection to Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake”.

“Good luck with that. We've already asked for court records and Gallagher's not producing them. What chance do we have of getting prison records?”

“I told you I was up all night. I wasn't pacing the floor. Instead I did some research. Listen to this, The Department Of Corrections maintains the public data base of inmate records, but also makes complete inmate records available to law enforcement. The last time I looked, we were law enforcement. I want you to contact the Department Of Corrections and get Adam Grisle’s prison record”.

“What am I looking for?”

“The inmates record will include his full name, known aliases, race and ethnicity, gender, hair and eye color, weight and birth date. Also there should be information about his conviction, sentence information, facility location, maximum release date and parole eligibility. Naturally, we already know what county he was convicted in and the mandatory sentence he received. What I really want to know is where is he and when can we talk to him?”

“No problem. I'll get right on it. I have an extra doughnut in a bag on my desk if you want it”.

“Is it a lemon filled?”

“No”.

“No thanks”.

“Before I go. I need the telephone number”.

“It's 609-777-5753”.

“How about a fax number?”

“No, things have a habit of being looked at by nosy people and get lost. Keep it confidential for the time being. Use the telephone”.

“Yes sir”.

At two o'clock that same day Stiles walked into the office of Captain Wallace and said, “Adam Grisle was incarcerated at Rahway, State Prison”.

“Good. When can we talk to him?”, asked Wallace.

“We can't”.

“Why?”

“He's dead”.

“Dead?”

“Yep, seems he was murdered by another inmate back in 1971”.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Do you notice the kind of luck we're having with this case?”

“Yeah. So far all bad”.

“Anyway, I've got an informant that did time in Rahway. He might know something. I'll make contact and see what I can find”.

“What will it cost me?”

“How's fifty bucks sound?”

“It sounds good”.

“I'll let you know what I find”.

“Thanks Frank”.

At nine forty five that evening Wallace answered the telephone in his combination den and living room. “Hello?”

“Cap. Do you want what I have now or in the morning?”

“Give it to me now”.

“Seems that Adam Grisle witnessed an assault on a Queen in the prison. During an investigation he shot his mouth off. As a result he was regarded as a snitch. Someone shoved a homemade shiv in his throat. Supposedly he choked to death on his own blood”.

“Do they know who killed him?”

“If they do no one's talking”.

“Anything else?”

“My informant says that Grisle was pissed off about his sentence.

He expected to plead guilty to manslaughter. That way he could do the time and be out doing no more then perhaps ten. Instead, his lawyer insisted to go to trial. When he did he was found guilty of first degree murder and got life”.

“Interesting. Type up a report in the morning and put it in the case file”.

“OK, see you then”.

“Frank?”

“Yes sir?”

“Nice work”.

“Thanks Cap. Good night”.

 

**************************

At the end of the week Wallace dialed Emily's telephone number.

“Hello?”. She answered.

“How would you like a nice dinner and dancing tonight?”, he asked.

“Sorry Robert. You just caught me in the middle of me packing my suitcase”.

“Oh. Going somewhere?”

“Home”.

“Home? Do you mean Iowa?”

“Yes”.

“How come?”

“My mothers sister is ill. I received a call from my Aunt Betty. It might be a slight stroke. I have to go”.

“I understand”.

“Thank you.”

“Well. I should have known. Today's Friday the thirteenth. You have a safe trip. When are you leaving?”

“Today, I have a non-stop flight from Philadelphia to Des Moines”.

“How far is it from Des Moines to Waterloo?”

“It's a two hour drive. Someone will meet me at the airport”.

“OK kid. Sorry to hear about your mother. Have a safe trip. See you when you get back”.

“Good by Robert”.

Wallace placed the receiver back on the telephone cradle.

 

************************

Francis Albert Stiles noticed the drooping electric and telephone wires hanging from the telephone poles as he drove along the road leading to the State Prison, located in Rahway, N.J. A short time later the large dome that from a distance seemed to hover over the red, brick construction of the prison came into view. He slowed the automobile he was driving as he approached the entrance parking lot. A large, dark blue sign with the words, State Of New Jersey Department Of Corrections stood surrounded by bright green shrubbery. Down in the left hand corner was the name of the Governor, Brendan T. Byrne. As Stiles got out of the automobile he noticed the high wire fence topped with coiled rolls of razor wire. After locking the car door he glanced at his wristwatch. He was on time. Actually, he was early. He had made good time since the traffic had been light on the road.

Stiles had An appointment to meet with Major John Pedara and after introductions and handshakes the two men got down to business.

“So, it's my understanding that you want information on one of our inmates, one Adam Grisle”, said Pedara.

“Yes sir. His name came up during our two homicide investigations”, Stiles replied.

“And of course you know, he's dead”.

“Yes, but what we're looking for is any information about him that might aid our investigation”.

“Such as?”

“Such as, who visited him. When and how often”.

“Well, since you are aware that information on prison inmates is available to law enforcement I anticipated just what you might want and need. Here is the list of visitors that came here to see Grisle. I hope it helps you”.

Stiles reached for his notebook and pen and wrote down two names, Abraham Vole and James Gallagher. “Thanks Major”, he said.

“Gallagher? Are you sure?”, asked Wallace after listening to Sergeant Stiles.

“Yes sir. His name is listed as a visiting attorney”.

“When, what dates?”

“Let me see”, said Stiles as he turned the pages in his notebook.

“He visited Grisle on Monday, March 22, 1965, Monday, May 10, 1965

and Tuesday, June 1, 1965. After that date there is no other record of Gallagher visiting Grisle”, he continued.

“It seems to me that in 1965 Gallagher was a young defense attorney just starting out. In all probability he defended Grisle in the

Emanuel Weiss case.”

“Then, why in the hell didn't he let us know that?”, asked Stiles.

“Because he doesn’t know what we have. It does raise the question on why he's dragging his feet on supplying the jury information I want”.

“Seems to me that you now have him by the balls, Cap”.

“No, I'll wait. I'll play that card only when I have to play it. For now I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, that as the County Prosecutor he's co-operating and so busy he overlooked several things”.

“Any idea who this guy Volpe is?”

“No, but since you found his name you can now find the guy that uses it”.

“Thanks a lot”.

“You're welcome. How's the studying for the test going?”

“Who in hell has time to study. You got me running all over the state and the county. Study? I wish”.

“How did you like the football game on Monday night?”

“I'll tell you one thing. I'm tired of seeing Pittsburgh”.

“Now, you see, instead of watching the Steelers you could have had your nose in the books”.

On Monday, October 23, 1978 Captain Wallace opened the sealed, manilla envelope marked, “CONFIDENTIAL” “Well. Well. Well”, he said aloud as he saw for the first time the list of names, addresses and other information related to the members of the jury who served on case # 4971. The names were listed in alphabetical order and his eyes went to the names beginning with S and read the name Greta Shoemaker. Then, he saw Dorothy Timberlake. Wallace leaned back in the high back office chair and mulled over the new information. “I was looking for one of the women that might have been involved in the Grisle case. Instead, both women served on that jury”, he thought to himself. Leaning forward again he studied all of the names on the list. He saw the name, Allen Shapiro. He knew Shapiro. They went to high school together and had been in the same math class. Wallace leaned over the safe that was on the floor next to his desk. He dialed the combination, opened the heavy door and placed the list of names inside. After closing the safe door he spun the dial and got up, walked to where his coat was, put it on and left the building.

Twenty minutes later, Captain Wallace parked the unmarked, black, Ford radio car in front of Allen's Shoes. He opened the door, and walked into the store which was empty of customers. Allen Shapiro was doing a crossword puzzle while standing behind a small counter that held the cash register. “Wally! Good to see you what can I do for you?”

“I need some information and you're the guy that can give it to me”.

“Actually, I was hoping you were here to buy a pair of shoes, but ask, ask.”.

“Back in 1965 you served on a jury that heard the case against Adam Grisle. Is that right?”

“Yes. We found him guilty of murder in the first degree”.

“Do you recall two women who served with you. One was named Greta Shoemaker and the other one was Dorothy Timberlake”.

“Oh yeah, I remember them well. Together they kept us deliberating for two days.”

“Why?”

“We heard the case, weighed the evidence and ten of us believed that Adam Grisle was guilty of aggravated manslaughter. However, Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake insisted that Grisle went to work that day angry over wages owed to him and in his mind planned to kill Emanuel Weiss. We argued with the two women for two days then finally let them have their way. We found Grisle guilty of murder in the first degree”.

“I see. How have you been Allen?”

“Good, business could be better, but it's the off season”.

“Well, thanks for talking with me. Say hello to Edith for me. How is she?”

“Like all Jewish mothers doting over the children. David's in college. Still she worries. You are sure you don't want a pair of shoes?”

Back at headquarters Wallace dialed the telephone number of the County Prosecutor. “Tell Mr. Gallagher that I'm in my office and I expect his call”, he said to the woman on the other end of the line.

At two fifteen in the afternoon Wallace answered the ringing telephone on his desk, Major Crime Squad. Captain Wallace”.

“What's so important that I have to speak to you?”, asked Gallagher.

“Let's start with the fact that you were the defense attorney for Adam Grisle and the case number is 4971”.

After a moment of silence Gallagher said, “I don't want to talk about it over the telephone. Can you come right over?”

“Sure, I'll be there in the next fifteen minutes”, Wallace answered ,then hung up the telephone.

When Wallace entered Gallagher's office the prosecutor closed the door, then using the inter-com on his desk told his secretary that he wasn't to be disturbed, including telephone calls. Turning to Wallace he said, “Now, what this about Adam Grisle?”

“Court case number 4971 was a murder trial and Adam Grisle was the defendant. I have information that after his arrest he wanted to take a plea for manslaughter. According to what we've heard, you insisted on going to trial. You lost the case and Grisle was sentenced to life. My question is why didn't you tell me that you represented him?”

“What does me representing Grisle have to do with the Blood Brook murders?”

“Right now, I don't know the connection. What I do know is that by you holding back on supplying us with information there has been a delay in our investigation. Delays could mean a loss of witnesses and evidence. For instance when I finally got to look at the names of the jury at Grisle's trial I found those belonging to Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake”.

“Meaning what?”

“Again, right now I don't know. What can you tell me about a guy named Abraham Volpe?”

“Nothing. I've never heard of him”.

“Only two people visited Grisle. You and Volpe, but you don't know him”.

“That's right”.

“OK, let's knock off the bullshit. Here's what I think you did. When I gave you the case number 4971 you requested the court information. Then, when you realized that it was the Grisle case, a case that you lost in court you made a decision. That decision was to keep the subject from being discussed which would then end up with the news media. As a man who has his sights on the governors mansion in Princeton such information could be damaging. Correct me if I'm wrong”.

“Yes, I made the mistake of heading this investigation, not realizing at the time that news reporters would be hounding me”.

“It might just be that they're not the only one that's after your ass”.

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning someone killed those two women and I'm beginning to think that they were revenge killings”.

“Revenge for what?”

“For convicting Grisle for murder”.

“Who would be seeking revenge?”

“I don't know. If I was you I'd assign two of your investigators to be with you twenty four hours a day”.

“Why?'

“Who lost the case?”

“What are you going to do?”

“About what?”

“The press”.

“That's your problem. My problem is finding Abraham Volpe”.

At eleven fifteen the next morning Captain Wallace was notified that a Pastor Ebeneezer Leeds requested a meeting. Wallace told Myers to send him in. whem Pastor Leeds entered the office he said, “Captain, my name is Ebeneezer Leeds. I'm Pastor of the Church Of The Good Shepard in Blood Brook”.

Wallace shook hands with the man and said, “Pastor, what can I do for you?”

“It's my understanding that you are responsible for the investigation into the death of Dorothy Timberlake”.

“That's true. I am”.

“Well. you see Dorothy was a member of the church. She was also the treasurer of the Building Fund Committee. In her last report, before her untimely death she reported that the fund had reached one thousand dollars. I have checked the accounts we have with our bank and there is no mention or sign of that money being on deposit or even an account titled , Building Fund. I am hoping that you can help me”.

“All I can tell you Reverend is that one thousand dollars in cash was found at her residence. It was marked as evidence and turned over to the County Prosecutor. I suggest that you contact Mr. Gallagher and see if he will turn the money over to you. I will tell you this. You are going to have to prove that the money belongs to the church”.

“Are you suggesting that I'm not telling you the truth?”

“No sir. I'm telling you how the law works. That's all”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

Personal Information

 

Robert Wallace looked across the table at the woman seated across from him. She took occasional sips of wine from the glass that the waiter had streamed gently into the crystal, Cabernet glassware. He noticed the look on her face, a look that he had seen many times before.

“OK, I know something's bugging you so let me hear it”, he said.

“Nothings bugging me hot shot. I'm just trying to figure out why all of a sudden you pick up the telephone and ask me to dinner”.

“Why wouldn't I. You've been here many times before”.

“You only dine here at the Glass Menagerie on special occasions”.

“Well there is no special occasion so it must be that you're special”.

“I also know that you're a bull shitter, Robert. Now, why am I here?”

“Maybe it's a thank you for helping me with this case”.

“Or maybe you expect to take me home and spend the night”.

“Is that what you think of me, that I would plan and connive in an attempt to seduce you?”

“Yes and at the same time I'm aware your latest girlfriend is out of town”.

“If you mean doctor Wescoat, she's not my girlfriend”.

“Like I said, you're a bull shitter”.

“Seriously, I wanted to thank you for what you have done for me in this investigation”.

“You're welcome, but I don't need a dinner as a reward”.

“What do you need?”, he said with a sly smile.

“Not what you think I need. What I do need is to dance. Dance with me Robert”.

With her in his arms on the dance floor Mary Wagner placed her head on his shoulder hiding the tears that welled in her eyes. Although they were divorced, she still loved him.

On Wednesday, November 1, 1978 Detective Thomas McKenna sat in front of the desk of Captain Wallace. “As you can see Cap. I have just about every Ford Bronco registered in the State of New Jersey. What I'm doing is narrowing the search first to only those registered in South Jersey, and those places close to the murder scenes, meaning, Atlantic, Cape May and Burlington Counties. So far, that gives me twenty three Bronco's and not all of them are 1977 models. At the same time anyone of them could be riding on a 1977 seven by fifteen Firestone tire”.

“True, but I know that you didn't expect it to be easy. What I want you to do now is notify Motor Vehicle and request information on a Abraham Volpe. We want to know if he has a drivers license. If so, get everything they have that goes with it, address, date of birth, everything”.

“Yes sir. Do I still use N.J.S.A. 39:2.3.4?”

“Yeah, the law allows personal information to be given to law enforcement”.

“I'll get right on it”.

“See Lieutenant Campo. Have her send a fax. That way the information will flow both ways”.

“Go it”.

Wallace went back to looking again at the pile of papers that belonged to Dorothy Timberlake. Once again he examined old electric, telephone and gas bills. As he turned them over one by one he stopped when he saw, Paid in full A.V. written on a bill from Gas-Pro.

He then got up from behind his desk and went to the file cabinet, pulled open a drawer and removed a folder containing black and white photographs of the handwriting that had been on the packages delivered to both victims. Taking the folder back to his desk he compared the writings. He examined the written words, Greta Shoemaker #7 Weymouth Road, Blood Brook, N.J. to the words, Paid in full A.V. He was no expert in Graphology, but he was positive that the small letter a used in the word paid was identical to the use of the small letter a used in Shoemaker and Road. He then examined the photo of the handwriting that had been on the package delivered to Dorothy Timberlake. Once again he noticed the similarity of the small, letter a

in the words, Tabernacle and Timberlake. He made notes. Sitting back in his chair Wallace thought to himself, “ A.V, could they be the initials of Abraham Volpe? Are we close?” his thought were interrupted when McKenna came back into the office. Wallace looked up and said, “Now what?”

“I just found out that three 1977 Ford Bronco's are owned by

Gas-Pro, located just outside of Estelle Manor”, said McKenna.

Wallace sat up quickly in his seat. “Damn! Both women used propane gas for cooking at their homes. I remember seeing the tanks on the back porch of each house. Here, I've been looking at the paid Gas-Pro bills for months and never made a connection. Did you get anything back on Volpe from motor Vehicle?”

“Yes sir. Abraham Volpe, age forty, date of birth September 9, 1938. He resides on Oak Shade road, Shamong, New Jersey”.

“Excellent. Tell Sergeant Stiles that you and I are going to Estelle Manor”.

“He's out of the building. He took a late lunch”.

“Or breakfast. OK, tell Myers”.

“Yes sir”.

Forty five minutes later on the outskirts of Estelle Manor a large, white towering gas storage tank came into view as the two men in the unmarked radio car approached the fenced in property of Gas-Pro. Hanging from the fence on both side of the open gate was a large white, sign with red lettering that read, NO SMOKING. Mckenna drove slowly to the one story building with a sign reading OFFICE.

When they got out of the automobile McKenna pointed to a dark, blue 1977 Ford Bronco with red and white lettering, GAS-PRO on the vehicle door.

Entering the small office they were greeted by a short, portly man with a red face. “Can I help you?”, he asked.

Wallace removed his badge case from the inside pocket of his blue blazer and said, “Yes sir, I am Captain Robert Wallace of the Nautilus Beach Police Department. This is Detective Thomas Mckenna. We are investigating two murders the happened over in Blood Brook. I'd like to ask you some questions”.

“Why me?”

“Excuse me, but just for the record would you mind telling me your name?”, asked Wallace.

“Not at all. My names Bentley, Norman Bentley. I own this place”.

“Good, then you should be able to answer a few questions”.

“I'll try”.

“How many homes do you service in Blood Brook?”

“Only three. Folks living back in those woods used kerosene for light and wood for heat. That went on for years. Then, one day they ran electricity back in there and things changed. Some of the women didn't like using electric ranges so they asked for gas. Well South Jersey Gas wasn't about to run lines through the pine barrens, as a matter of fact I don't think the State would let them do it anyway. So, to make a long story short, I got the business. But, like I said, I only service three in Blood Brook”.

“We know that you served Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake. Can you tell me who the third party might be?”

“Sure. Jesse Cook and his wife. Mrs Cook, like the other women don't like electricity for cooking”.

Wallace opened a manila folder and removed a piece of paper. “I want to show you something. This is a bill, marked paid in full, written by hand and with the initials AV. What can you tell us about it?”

Bentley took the bill, looked at it and said, “ This is a bill for a new tank of propane. Most times I have to send out bills to my customers. In this case Mrs. Timberlake nearly always paid cash. Abraham Volpe was the delivery man that day. He removed the empty tank and installed the new tank. After that he collected the money”.

“Is Abraham Volpe working today?”, asked Wallace.

“No, he's been out sick for the last couple of days”.

“Is he the only employee that serves Blood Brook?”

“Yes, unless he's on vacation or sick.”.

“Just how difficult is it to install or change propane tanks like those we're talking about?”, asked McKenna.

“There's nothing to it. All you need is a valve wheel wrench and a little know how”.

“What kind of wrench?”, asked Wallace.

“A valve wheel wrench. Wait a minute I'll show you one”.

Bentley got up, went outside, walked up to the rear of a Chevrolet Blazer, opened the rear hatch, reached in and removed a tool. He then walked back into the office. This is what I'm talking about”, he said.

 

 

 

 

 

Wallace reached out and took the wrench from Bentley. He saw the crescent shape end with the bulge inside the crescent. At the same time he judged the length of the tool to be about twenty two to twenty four inches. “I assume each service man has one of these”, he said.

“Yes. Once in a while one or two get lost a year. Usually, the men get talking to the customer and walk off leaving it. Other times, who knows, I've heard all kinds of excuses, it must have fallen out of the truck, someone stole it”.

“Are they expensive?”, asked McKenna

“One like the Captain's holding cost me seventy five dollars and change”.

“How much does this thing weigh?”, asked Wallace.

“Three pounds and believe it or not it's made out of aluminum and magnesium”.

Wallace handed the wrench back to the owner. “My next question is how are the vehicles assigned to the men?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean is each service man assigned a particular vehicle or do they just take one at random off of the parking lot?”

“Each man is assigned to a SUV. Some are Ford Broncos the others are Chevrolet Blazers. They're responsible for gassing up, oil, tools, loading and unloading tanks and servicing customers”.

“I see. Are the men allowed to take their SUV home?”, asked Wallace.

“No”.

“Then the vehicle assigned to each man is here”

“Correct”.

“I'd like to see the SUV that's assigned to Abraham Volpe, if you don't mind”, said Wallace.

“No problem, It's the Ford Bronco parked over there by the fence. Help yourself, it's open. Now, if you don't mind I'd like to get back to work. I've got a few contracts I have to study”.

“Thank you Mr. Bentley”, said McKenna.

When they reached the end of the Blazer McKenna opened the large rear window lifting it up then Making sure it stood open moved aside so Wallace could look inside. Wallace stood silently looking at the contents inside the rear compartment of the SUV. Then, he saw what he was looking for, the valve wheel wrench. Taking the clean handkerchief from his right rear pocket he used it to cover his hand. Then, he reached inside and picked up the tool. Showing the end of it to McKenna he said, “Do you see what I see?”

“Yes sir. To me it looks like strands of hair and what could be dry blood stains.”

“Well the Prosecutor investigators in their wisdom failed to protect not only the crime scene, but the victims body as well. Let's hope that either Doctor Wescoat or Doctor Shell took hair samples for analysis”.

“Wouldn’t it be good idea just in case they didn't to have someone go back to the victims homes and see if they can get hair samples, maybe from a brush or comb?”, asked McKenna.

“Tom? Great thinking. Go ask Mr. Bentley if you can use his telephone. If he says yes, call Myers and have her and Donahue go out to Blood Brook and try to get hair samples”.

“Yes sir”.

Wallace walked back into the office of Norman Bentley. Bentley looked up from the paper work he was doing. “Find what you were looking for?', he asked.

“Yes, I did”, Wallace answered holding up the valve wheel wrench he had taken from the SUV used by Abraham Volpe. “And, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you?”,the Captain continued.

“Oh, what kind of bad news?”, asked Bentley.

“We have reason to believe that the Ford Bronco, used by Volpe was used in the commission of a crime, those being the murders of Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake. I'm afraid I will have to impound it as evidence”, Wallace explained.

“How long will you have to keep it?”

“Right now Mr. Bentley I can't say. I will tell you this. Since you have been more than co-operative I'll try to get it back to you as soon as possible”.

“Well, I'll just have to come up with something else for Volpe to drive”.

“Since, you mention Volpe I'm sure you have his address. Would you mind giving it to me?”, asked Wallace.

“Just a minute”. Bentley got up from his desk and walked to an old, dented, forest green colored, filing cabinet. Removing a manila folder marked, EMPLOYEES, he scanned the list of names with a forefinger then said, “Volpe lives on Oak Shade Road over in Shamong”

“OK, that's the same address we have. Now, if we could use your telephone again, I'd like to call for a tow truck”.

Returning to headquarters Wallace turned the valve wheel wrench over to Lieutenant Campo where it was photographed, dusted for latent prints and scheduled for analysis of what might be human hair and blood. On the same day Detective Carol Myers and Investigator, Maria Donahue submitted hair brushes and combs taken from the homes of the two victims.

Sergeant Stiles entered the Captains office. “So, you got what might be the murder weapon”, he said.

“Yep. Right now I think it's safe to say that's what the killer used”, Wallace answered.

“And, when do we pick up this Volpe guy?”

“ He lives in Shamong which is in Burlington County. As far as I know that's State Police jurisdiction. I'll contact Gallagher and see who he wants to be with us when we arrive there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

Probable Cause

 

On Monday, November 13, 1978, Captain Robert Wallace sat in the office of James Gallagher. “So, now we're getting somewhere. We've got the murder weapon and a key suspect. All we need now is to arrest this Volpe guy and wrap up the case”, said the prosecutor.

“It's not as easy as that. I'm still waiting for hair and blood analysis reports. Mrs. Shoemaker had O type blood. Dorothy Timberlake had AB. We got that information from each woman's doctor. If blood type AB is found on the wrench, that should be an important piece of evidence, wouldn't you say?”, asked Wallace.

“It certainly would stand out to a listening jury”, Gallagher answered.

“I'm not ready to arrest Volpe at this time”, said Wallace.

“Why not? We certainly have probable cause”.

“Maybe. But consider this. We assume each woman was killed after receiving a large wrapped package. Each woman had propane tanks serviced at their homes by Abraham Volpe. That means that both women would have recognized Volpe when they opened the door”.

“Yes, so?”

“So, I don't think that it was Volpe that did the actual killing”.

“Then who did?”

“I don't know yet. As far as I know Volpe has fled the coop. What I would like is a search warrant for his residence in Shamong. Can you take care of that?”

“Yes. Is there anything else you might need?”

“Someone from law enforcement from Burlington County to be with us when we execute the warrant. A Trooper, county investigator, whatever”.

“Alright, I'll take care of it”.

“Thank you. Have someone call me when the warrant's ready. I'll have somebody pick it up”.

Late, the next morning and armed with a search warrant, Captain Robert Wallace and Sergeant Frank Stiles drove along Route 30 then through the cities of Egg Harbor and Hamonton. They then entered the Wharton State Forest using Route 206. As they drove through the woodland on that November day, a crisp autumn breeze blew and the color of red, orange and yellow oak leaves on the trees and on the ground indicated that winter was coming.

“I wonder who is going to meet us?”, asked Stiles.

“I have no idea, but I'd be surprised if it was a Trooper.

As they entered a winding, gravel road known as Oak Shade Road

Wallace, who was driving said, “There's the house back there among the trees and somebody's there. There's two cars parked in front.

Wallace parked the Ford he was driving next to the cars parked in front of the house belonging to Abraham Volpe.

When they got out of the car Wallace and Stiles were greeted by

a man who introduced himself as Dennis Mitchell, Chief of Detectives for the county. Mitchell then introduced Sergeant Harry Moyer of the State Police. After the introductions Mitchell said, “Captain, I have no doubt that everything is in order, but I'm required to examine your warrant”.

Wallace handed the warrant to Mitchell, then stood and watched the man read it. When it was handed back to him Wallace said, “Can we get on with it now?”

“We might have to force the door. We've been here about a half an hour. It appears that no one is here. Volpe owns and drives a Volkswagen and it's not here either,” said Moyer

“It appears that you've been doing your homework, “Said Stiles.

“Actually our knowledge about Abraham Volpe goes back to the arrest of his stepbrother, Adam Grisle”, said Mitchell.

“Stepbrother? That's news to me”, said Wallace.

“They had the same mother, different fathers. Our information is that when Adam was killed Abraham changed dramatically. He became withdrawn, resentful and somewhat paranoid., Mitchell added.

“I take it then that they as brothers were very, very close”, said Stiles.

“Absolutely. They grew up in Blood Brook. There, they were arrested twice for poaching deer out of season. Evidently Adam was a pain in the ass and always in trouble. He drank a lot and when he did he became a nasty drunk which meant he was usually involved in fights. Some he won, most he lost”, Mitchell explained.

“Interesting. Now, let's see what we find inside”, said Wallace.

“What exactly are you looking for?”, asked Moyer.

“The first thing we want is anything that is a sample of his handwriting. After that anything that links him further to Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake”, Wallace answered.

“I'll take a look at the front door”, said Stiles.

“The word is that you have the murder weapon”, said Mitchell.

“Someone then has a big mouth. We won't know if what we have is the weapon until laboratory test can confirm it”, Wallace replied.

Stiles came walking back and went to the rear of the unmarked radio car. Opening the trunk with a spare pair of keys he removed a Stilson wrench, closed the trunk lid and walked back to the front door of the house. The other three men followed him. They stood and watched as Stiles adjusted the jaws of the wrench until it fit snugly over the imitation brass door knob. Then, with a twist the inexpensive interior of the lock gave way. Stiles then opened the door.

Once inside Mitchell and Moyer became mere spectators. The search and the warrant was to be executed by Captain Wallace. Mitchell and Moyer were present due to protocol and nothing more.

Volpe's home was small, but neat. It was a typical ranch type, one bedroom house. Stiles went into the bedroom. Wallace started in the kitchen. The first thing he noticed was the clean dishes stacked to dry in the wire dish drainer next to the sink. He saw the calendar hanging from a nail in the wall. He carefully removed it, looked at the present month, November and since there was nothing marked, he turned the pages back, starting with January, 1978. As he looked at each month he found what he was looking for, handwritten notes. For the month of February he found, dentist appointment written on February 9. He slowly

turned the pages. Written on March 26, Wallace found, easter, put flowers on graves. Wallace carried the calender into the living room. Seeing a small, triangular desk in one corner of the room he went to it then stood examining it with his eyes. He saw the pigeon holes that held papers and envelopes, a used large, green desk blotter with handwriting that appeared to have been done in ink. There was also, a telephone.

Wallace took a seat on the metal folding chair that had been placed in front of the desk. He then began emptying the pigeon holes, examining each paper or document. Most of what he found were bills, some paid some still requesting payment. What he found particularly interesting was a neat stack of paid telephone bills. Wallace removed one bill from the Bell Telephone envelope unfolded it and read the time, date, length of the calls made along with the numbers called. He took the complete stack.

Stiles came back into the living room. “Find anything?”, asked Wallace.

“I noticed an empty space in the clothes closet as if things had been taken off of the hangers”, Stiles replied.

“Bentley said that Volpe had called in sick. I think he's beginning to feel the heat. He's taken off”, Wallace suggested.

“Could be. Did you find anything Cap?”

“Enough. I have the samples we needed and some other things I want to look into. I also want this folding chair”.

“What for?”

“Volpe's fingerprints have to be all over it”.

Back at headquarters Wallace called Floyd Wilkerson who was with Bell Telephone Security. “Wally? Haven't heard from you in quite a spell. You must need something”. Said Floyd.

“I sure do. I have about a dozen telephone number I would like you to put with the correct names and addresses”, Wallace replied.

“Only a dozen? You're slipping. Alright that small amount I can take over the telephone. Let me have them”.

Wallace then slowly, so as to not make a mistake gave Wilkerson all of the telephone numbers called from Volpe's home telephone.

“ OK Wally, give me a couple of days and I'll get back to you”.

“Thanks Floyd, I really appreciate it”.

He no sooner hung up his telephone when it rang. He saw that it was an inside line so he pushed the blinking button and said, “Captain Wallace”.

“Captain, June Campo. I found two different sets of fingerprints on that tool you gave me. One set belongs to Abraham Volpe. We know that because they match those we found on the folding chair. The other set that we found we ran through our and the States system. They match and come back as belonging to Marcus Schiller”.

“Schiller? He's a small time punk, petty thief and heroin junky”.

“I don't know what he is, but his prints were on the tool”.

“Thanks June. Anything else?”

“Yes, the strands of hair found on the tool matches those that Detective Myers found on the two hairbrushes, one belonging to Shoemaker and the other to Timberlake”.

“It appears as though you might be on the witness stand for a long time”.

“Don't I know it”.

At ten o'clock the next morning Wallace received a telephone call from Floyd Wilkerson. “Wally, I have the information you wanted from the telephone numbers you gave me”, said Floyd.

“Hey, that's what I call, fast work”.

“Just remember that you owe me”.

“How much?”

“Nothing I was only kidding”.

“How about we meet for lunch today? You bring the information and I pick up the check”.

“You know you don't have to do that”.

“I know, but I like to sit down for a nice lunch once in a while instead of eating a greasy sandwich washed down with lukewarm coffee”.

“ Well, if you insist. Where should we meet?”

“As I recall you like a martini lunch”.

“Wrong, I like a martini before lunch”.

“OK, how about lunch at the Beachcomber?”

“Sounds good. What time. How about one? That way most of the lunch crowd will be gone and it will quiet enough for us to talk.”

“See you then”.

At twelve forty five PM Wallace saw Floyd Wilkerson seated at the bar in the Beachcomber Restaurant. Wilkerson picked up his drink and followed Wallace to a booth near the sidewalk side windows. When they were seated a waitress arrived, placed two menus on the table and asked Wallace if he would like a drink. He ordered a cup of coffee.

“So, here's your list of numbers and names”, said Wilkerson.

“Thanks again. How's business?”

“Most of my cases deal with coin theft from telephone booths”, said Floyd.

“Kids?”, asked Wallace.

“Kids, homeless, junkies, who knows? They do more damage to the equipment then what they get from the coin box”.

“It doesn't sound too exciting to me”.

“Believe me it isn't”.

“Are you ever sorry you left the police department?”

“Not really, particularly on cold winter nights. I remember walking the boardwalk beat midnight to eight in the morning, freezing my ass off. The sad thing is I was the only one out there. Even the thief's were smart enough to stay home in bed where it was nice and warm”.

Wallace laughed, “You got that right. Well, you got a nice, respectable position with the telephone company. The question is are you happy there”.

“Happy yes, bored, definitely yes”.

The waitress returned, took their lunch order and over corn

beef sandwiches the two men talked of the old days when they were patrolmen together.

Back at headquarters Wallace sat at his desk and read the information Floyd Wilkerson had given him. One thing stood out immediately, the number of calls made to the telephone registered to Marcus Schiller from Abraham Volpe. Wallace asked Frank Stiles to come into his office. When Stiles entered the Captain pointed t a chair. “Have a seat, this won't be long”, he said.

“What's up?”

“I want you and McKenna to pick up Marcus Schiller. He's usually in one of two places. At home in Garwood Village shooting up or at the clinic taking methadon. Pick him up and bring him in”.

“No problem, what's the charge?”

“The murder of Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake”.

“Got it. Anything else?”

“No. While you two are doing that I'll talk to Gallagher. I need his co-operation for what I have in mind”.

“See you when we get back”, said Stiles leaving the office.

Wallace then dialed the number of the prosecutors office. This time he was lucky and Gallagher answered his call. “Captain? What can I do for you?”

“I thought you would like to know that we are about to make an arrest in the Shoemaker and Timberlake cases”.

“Excellent. Who are you arresting?'

“A small time thief and junkie. His name is Marcus Schiller”.

“Do you have enough evidence?”

“Enough for probable cause. His fingerprints are on the murder weapon”.

“Well, thanks for notifying me”.

“Wait, there's more”.

“What is it?”

“I want you to convince the court that Schiller is a flight risk. Either request no bail or bail high enough that it will be impossible for Schiller to raise it”

“I can do that. However, how do I convince the judge that the man is a flight risk?”

“The other suspect in this case, Abraham Volpe has already fled. He could be anywhere. As a matter of fact I'm about to declare him a fugitive”.

“Alright, that sounds reasonable. Let me know when you have this Schiller fellow in custody”.

“I will, thank you”.

Two hours later Wallace was called down to the interrogation room. When he walked in he saw Marcus Schiller sitting at the gray painted metal table. Schiller raised his head and looked at Wallace when the Captain entered the room.

“Hello Marcus. It's been a while. By the looks of you you're back on the shit again. Only, this time I'd say your doing it heavy”.

“I haven't seen you since you headed the vice squad”, Schiller responded.

“ That was some time ago Marcus. Now, I head the Major Crime Squad”.

“So why am I here?”, asked Schiller.

“You're here because two women were murdered”.

“What's that go to do with me?”

“Because you killed them”

“Bullshit!”

“Look, I'm not going to waste time playing games with you. Right now it's all cut and dry. I'm going to charge you, warn you of your rights and then, it's up to you how you want to play it.

“I've got nothing to say”.

Wallace walked over to Schiller and said, “Let me see your arms”.

Schiller raised one arm and unbuttoned the cuff of his shit sleeve. “I'm telling you I'm not using”, he said. After rolling up the sleeve he allowed Wallace to examine the arm.

“Just as a thought, track marks”, said Wallace.

“They're old marks and you know it”.

“Is that right?” Wallace, using his two thumbs squeezed what he thought to be a recent point of injection. When he did pus seeped out of the punctured skin along with some blood. “Here's how I'm going to deal with you Marcus. I'm now charging you with the murder of Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake. When you get ready to talk to me, send word”.

“What's my bail?”

“No bail”

“Why?”

“You're considered a flight risk”.

“I want a lawyer”.

“You'll get one, but it will probably be one appointed by the court.

That might take some time”.

“So, I just sit on my ass in jail”.

“Yep, I'm afraid so. And, since you say you're not using you won't have to worry about getting the Jones while your in there”.

“Hey, I'm on the methadon treatment”.

“Not right now. Think about it Marcus. You've been through this before. First comes the sweating, then the nausea and vomiting. After that the pain begins in your muscles. The cramps start in your arms and legs, cramps so bad you can't stand or walk and the pain moves into your bones. You can't sleep and you begin to cry. You don't know why you are crying. But at times you can't stop. You get diarrhea. You get it so bad you either shit your pants or sit on the toilet in your cell for hours hoping that it will stop. Only, it doesn’t stop. And of course there's the fever, cold chills and runny nose. And, there's no heroin, no fix and at the same time, no methadon. Alright, Sergeant Stiles will book you. When you're ready to talk to me send word”, said Wallace as he walked out of the room.

Forty eight hours later Schiller began to perspire profusely . He knew what was coming next and he didn't want to go through it again. He remembered those times when he had withdrawals. One time it was in the prison hospital. That time he was so sick he wanted to die. He needed either the heroin or the methadon. Captain Wallace was the only one who could give him relief from what he knew was coming next. He yelled for the Turnkey.

Captain Wallace walked into the interrogation room. Once again Marcus Schiller sat at the same table as he had before, “I've been told that you want to talk to me. Has Sergeant Stiles informed you of your right to remain silent?”said Wallace.

“ Yeah, but can I have my medicine first?”

“No, first I want to see just how co-operative you are”.

“Fine, what do you want to know?”

“Let's start with Abraham Volpe”.

“What about him?'

“How long have you known him?'

“I don't know, eight, maybe ten years, a long time”.

“How and when did you meet?”

“I met him when I was doing time in Rahway”.

“How did that come about?”

“I was friends with his brother, Adam Grisle”.

“Go on”.

“When I got out I looked him up. I was hoping that maybe he could get me a job where he worked”.

“At Gas-Pro?”

“Yeah”.

“And then what?”

“He said because I had a record the boss wouldn't hire me”.

“So, what did you do then?”

“Sold drugs on the street, broke into places looking for cash or anything I could sell later”.

“During this time were you still in contact with Vope?”

“No. I heard that Grisle was snuffed in prison. I went out there to Shamong to tell him how sorry I was that he had lost his brother”.

“And?”

“Volpe had changed. Now, he was full of hate. He kept telling me that his brother got screwed in court. He said that if he had been convicted of manslaughter chances were that he would never had been sent to Rahway. He had information that two women on the jury were responsible for the murder conviction”.

“Those being Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake?”

“You got it”.

“How did he know that?”

“They told him”.

“ They told him? How?”

“Volpe serviced their propane. He got them into a conversation about crime and killings and I guess they mentioned that they were on the jury that convicted Adam Grisle”.

“And shortly after, he planned to get revenge?

“Yeah, he said that he'd pay me five grand for each hit. I needed the funds so I agreed to do it. It was his idea that I would pretend to be delivering packages. When the women opened the door, the rest was easy”.

“And you beat them to death with the valve wheel wrench”.

“If that's what it's called. Yeah”.

“Where's Volpe now?”

“Beats the hell out of me”.

“Did you get the money?”

“No”.

“Anything else?”

“Can I have the medicine now?”

“After you sign some papers”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Chapter Eight

Down Under

 

 

At the Los Angeles Airport Captain Robert Wallace was paged while in the first class, Quantas lounge. When he took the telephone call he heard the voice of Frank Stiles. “Cap, they got Volpe”.

“Where?”

“Orange Texas. U.S. Marshall’s. He's fighting extradition”.

“That's a mere formality. Are you going to go get him?”

“No. It seems that Gallagher is sending his people”.

“That figures. He'll look good in the press and on television.”

“Actually, it's fine with me. It gives me more time To study for the test”.

“Hey, I hope by the time I get back you're a Lieutenant”.

“Me too. Have a great vacation and say hello to Doc Edwards for me”.

“I will. Good by”.

On the flight from Honolulu to Sydney, Wallace leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed listening to music piped in on the stereo system. For lunch he was served poached snapper in coconut milk. He read magazines, talked, watched a movie, “Walk About”, a film about two Australian children lost in the Outback. Then, He took a nap. He woke, went to the rest room ,refreshed himself with cold water to the face and returned to his seat. For dinner he selected the beef filet with green beans, potato and cabbage gratin. It seemed to him that he had been in the air forever. To kill time he thought again about the types of fish Doc had said they would be after. As a result Wallace was looking forward to catching Spanish mackerel, long tail tuna, and something he had never heard of a barramundi .Finally, the “Fasten Your Seat Belt” sign came on along with the voice of the stewardess. Then the plane landed and it was a mad rush to another concourse to board the plane that would take them to Perth.

A few hours later Robert Wallace walked slowly through the concourse assigned to Sky West Airlines. As he walked he had difficulty trying to place his pass port into his shoulder bag. Finally, he stopped and put the document safely inside. Beginning to walk again he began looking for Doc Edwards and Sharon. Since there were many people waiting for others on the same flight it was difficult to see them in the crowd. Then, he heard a familiar voice. “Robert! Over here!” He turned to the sound and saw Doc with one hand in the air. Making his way to where Doc and Sharon stood. With a firm handshake and an embrace Wallace said, “Hello you old fart”. “Hello yourself, pecker head”, Edwards answered. Turning to Sharon Wallace said “Hello beautiful”, as he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

“Don't be giving me all of that. Where is she?”, asked Sharon.

“In the ladies restroom. She had to pee”.

“I'm still angry with you”.

“Why?”

“I still don't know how to set up the sleeping arrangements”.

“Why don't you ask her. Here she comes now”.

“Mary! Oh Mary. What a wonderful surprise”, said Sharon as the two women hugged and kissed.

Doc Edwards looked at Wallace and smiled. “Bout time you got some brains”, he said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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