Caged to Kill

by Tom Swyers

  “Maybe during rec hour?” Now there was a double entendre for the ages, David realized.

  “You mean I lured her into my rec pen and raped her? That’s not possible. She never set foot in solitary. I was under guard all the time while in the rec pen, in my cell, in the shower—at least two COs were with me at all times outside of the box.” Phillip was deflating now, his body hanging over the table, resting on his flexed arms as the white knuckles hit the surface.

  “Did she rape you then?” David asked aggressively.

  “You can’t be serious. How could that even happen?”

  “I don’t know. But I suppose it doesn’t make any difference or not if she raped you. Back then, sex with an inmate would have led to disciplinary action against Edith, including suspension or dismissal, even if it was consensual. And if this happened with the superintendent’s knowledge or approval, he’d be fired. Were you at Kranston in the 1990s?” David was getting a little irritated, both with the situation and with Phillip’s obstinacy.

  “Yes, but I never had sex with this girl. Did you say she was sixteen at the time?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did a sixteen-year-old even work at Kranston?”

  “You can work when you’re sixteen. She could have lied about her age too, for all I know, to get the job. Who was the superintendent back then?”

  “O’Neil or Kleinschmit. I can’t exactly remember.”

  “Why are you protecting Edith Nowak?”

  “I’m not.” Phillip paused for a minute, then repeated, “I’m not.”

  “Did you somehow use this incident to gain leverage for your release?”

  “What are you talking about?” Now the ex-con was incredulous. Sex and blackmail, from a cell in a solitary confinement unit? Sure.

  “Maybe you told Superintendent Kleinschmit that if he didn’t release you, you’d tell everyone about your affair with Edith Nowak. So he managed to have the DNA switched with the DNA in Officer Carlson’s murder file to get you out.”

  “Stop it. You’re being ridiculous—switching out DNA.” By now Phillip had dropped back into his chair, where he sat just shaking his head slowly.

  “Am I? The New York State Police is currently under investigation for manipulating DNA analysis to match samples to known suspects in crimes. DNA-swapping with known criminals is certainly possible in that environment.”

  “The police officer’s family would have protested my release if—”

  “Really? I think the family got sick and tired of seeing you survive the box, year after year, decade after decade. They wanted you dead from day one. But New York does not have capital punishment—the death penalty. For thirty years you survived and they suffered. They wanted vengeance. What better way to get it than to let you out and let the family do what New York State could not do? That’s why Ken Broome, nephew to Officer Carlson’s wife, inspected your shop and wrote you up for multiple violations. For all I know, the family was somehow involved with the CO traffic stop and the raid on the shop too. Of course, Kleinschmit knew they were going to go after you. That was fine by him. He’d let the family take care of his problem. One half of the affair with Edith Nowak would die with you and the other half would die when the cancer finished off Edith Nowak.”

  “Why would I admit to you that I killed Officer Carlson then? I had nothing to gain from doing that.”

  “Sure you did. You were afraid I’d figure it out at some point. You thought you’d beat me to the punch. If you told me before I figured it out, you thought I couldn’t divulge your admission because of the attorney-client privilege. You wanted to string me along so I’d continue to help you.”

  “But I wanted to kill you, David. I told you that. Why would I want to kill the only person I can rely on? Who would help me then?”

  “You tell me. You should know. We’re talking about what’s going on in your head, not mine.”

  “There was no sex, I tell you. You don’t think I’d forget having sex with a woman after living in the box all these years, do you?”

  “Well, Phillip, your memory hasn’t been the best. Things from your past just seem to pop out of nowhere into your head—like your admission that you killed Officer Carlson.”

  “I can’t argue with that, David. Maybe . . . maybe I had sex with her but I can’t remember it? Maybe that’s what happened?”

  “I suppose that’s possible,” David admitted.

  “Dad, if Phillip says he didn’t have sex with her, I believe that’s what he believes.”

  “Christy, please stay out of this.”

  “Dad, I am involved with this, like it or not. I didn’t ask to become involved. It just happened. If neither of us can talk about Mr. Dawkins with Mom, then let me at least share my thoughts.”

  At times like these, David wished he had established his office outside of the home. Every day was Take Your Child to Work Day in the Thompson house. David knew it was his fault. He had set up an open-door policy when Christy was a little boy, getting off the bus from grade school. But ever since Christy became a teenager, Take Your Child to Work Day had become Challenge Your Father at Work Day.

  “All right, what are you saying Christy?”

  “I’m saying that he believes his memory, even though his memory might be incorrect. I learned about this in my neuroscience internship. I think he’s telling the truth about what he believes.”

  “And what makes you believe him, Christy?”

  “He and I are a lot alike. He left the real world when he was my age. We are at the same place now in our heads, but at different points in our chronological lives,” Christy explained. “Doesn’t matter. I know when one of the kids in my class is lying. Mr. Dawkins isn’t. He’s already said he’s not a liar. I believe him. You shouldn’t be so hard on him.”

  “Oh come on now, Christy. I’ve got to question him and his memory to get at the truth. If I didn’t question him, we wouldn’t be considering the possibility that he might have had sex with Edith Nowak but just not remember it. My God, I don’t believe I just said that out loud. But in the context of what’s been happening with Phillip and what we’ve learned from the file on him at Kranston, I guess it’s possible. But why don’t you remember it, Phillip?”

  “I don’t know.”

  David just shook his head. “Well, it seems you’re in good company, Phillip.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Phillip asked. This discussion was seriously taxing his appetite for human interaction.

  “It seems there are a few people who want to forget that you’re the father of Janet Nowak. There might even be some people who don’t know you’re her father. Janet might like to know who her father is, but if we told her I think she might want to forget it too.”

  “I believe Mr. Dawkins, Dad. I believe he’s telling the truth about what he remembers.”

  “But you didn’t believe that he killed a man when he told us that he did.”

  “True, I did say that,” Christy affirmed. “But don’t take it out of context. I said that in reaction to his admitting it. Like he later said, he doesn’t think that he’s the same man today as the guy who killed that police officer thirty years ago. I believe him.”

  “I’m glad you’re so confident, Christy. I’m thirty-five years older than you and I don’t know what to believe, but you’ve got it all figured out.”

  “I believe he’s being truthful, Dad. I realize his memory is messed up. But I believe he’s being honest with us about what his memory is at any given time.”

  “Can we all agree that Phillip’s memories can and do change on a dime? Phillip, what do you say to that?”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid my memories do change,” he shrugged.

  “I agree,” added Christy.

  “With all due respect, Phillip, if this is the case, then what’s the current value in anything you say? You know what? Don’t answer that question. Forget I asked it. We have enough to deal with without fighting amongst ourselves.”
/>   David leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath, then figuratively bit his tongue. He wanted to remind Christy, “Phillip had dreams about killing your dad.” He wanted to say, “Now you’re willing to stake my life on your belief in Phillip?” He yearned to ask Phillip just how close he’d actually come to murdering him. For a clincher, he wanted Christy to name all of the people that he’s known for thirty years and leave it at that. But David didn’t want to get into an argument with Christy, not in front of Phillip at least. Doing so would run the risk of helping the two of them forge an even deeper bond.

  It troubled David that his son would identify and side with Phillip, a man who was potentially both a murderer and rapist. It was a blunt reminder that he had only himself to blame for bringing Phillip into their lives. He couldn’t remove the ex-con without putting Annie, Christy and himself in danger. Withdrawing support from Phillip would be like lighting a fuse and David was deathly afraid Phillip’s head would explode in a fit of rage.

  But even though he wanted to remove Phillip from their lives, he knew that he couldn’t do it right now. With the background information on Dr. Ewen Cameron coming into play, there was something larger than Phillip going on here, something larger than all of their lives combined. David’s mind was racing, putting new pieces of information together, reconfiguring old information. Suddenly, a new theory blossomed in his head—one that scared him to death—a theory he certainly couldn’t talk about in front of Phillip and Christy.

  Chapter 21

  After driving Phillip back to his motel room later that afternoon, David was at an intersection on Central when his cell started ringing. The caller ID said it was Julius. The FBI agent was just the guy David wanted to talk to right now. He kept trying to poke holes in his new theory but he couldn’t. He desperately needed to talk to someone about it. Julius seemed to be the only one available. David pulled into the Price Chopper Supermarket parking lot to take the call, secure beyond the prying ears of his family and Phillip.

  “What’s up, Julius?”

  “Good news. We do have a file on the Dawkins murder case from 1985. It turns out Dawkins fled to Pennsylvania, over state lines, before he was arrested in Scranton. That triggered FBI jurisdiction over his apprehension. Also, the City of Syracuse police asked for our help on the day of the murder. I’m told we sent an Evidence Response Team.”

  “Great. Does that mean you have DNA evidence in the file?” David’s hands began to sweat.

  “I don’t have the file yet. It’s in transit. But they did tell me there’s DNA in it. What’s it to you?”

  “I have Dawkins’ DNA profile. I want to see if it matches with what’s in the file. I want to find out if Dawkins really did kill Officer Carlson.”

  “That makes sense.” Julius had a dry wit and a way with words.

  “But if it doesn’t match, it doesn’t necessarily mean that Dawkins didn’t kill Officer Carlson,” David spit out.

  “Huh? I’m confused. How’s that?”

  “It might mean that the man who we know as Phillip Dawkins is not actually him. It’s someone else. I think the man we know as Phillip Dawkins might really be Boris Dietrich.”

  “Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” David blurted out as he hurried to get his story straight before Julius hung up on him. “Let’s look at the facts. We have letters from Edith to Boris saying over and over how she loves him and wants him to marry her like he promised. What does that sound like to you, knowing that Edith has a kid with an unknown father?”

  “Yeah, I admit it sounds like Edith wanted to marry Boris to make things legit.”

  “Right, and here’s something that’ll be news to you. I ran a secret paternity test on Janet Nowak based upon her discarded DNA. Guess who won the pin the tail on the daddy game?”

  “I give up.” Julius drawled, with a touch of sarcasm.

  “Phillip Dawkins.”

  “What? Wait, how old is the daughter, Janet Nowak?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “How could Dawkins father a child when he’s been in solitary for thirty years?”

  “Exactly. He couldn’t. There’s no way, which is why I think he’s Boris Dietrich. That might explain why the DNA I got from Phillip doesn’t match the DNA at the crime scene but matches the DNA profile of Janet’s father.”

  “You mean they switched Dietrich with Dawkins? Seriously, Thompson, get a grip. How is that even possible?”

  “Dawkins got visitors like every five years or so, right? How many people in the outside world remember what he looks like? Most likely the person who gets access to talk to him is someone who has never seen him before and will never see him again. Maybe an envoy from the United Nations, a prison rights lawyer, a reporter. There’s plenty of opportunity to make the switch.”

  “Didn’t you visit him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Does he look the same to you?”

  “Yeah, but I saw him five years ago. They could have made the switch before I even met him.”

  “Somebody must have known about it.”

  “Yeah, definitely some COs should be in the know. But not many. There’s a core group assigned there—the senior COs. But they could be CIA plants for all I know. That wouldn’t surprise me,” David continued. “Bottom line is that Dawkins was just another nameless, faceless man in a box. Other cons rarely, if ever, saw him. If you were a lifer, you could decline rec and never come out of the box. It’s easy to make people forget you if they’re already trying to forget you.”

  “What about the age difference between Dietrich and Dawkins?” Julius broke in. “Dawkins was born in like 1966. Dietrich sounds like he could have been a young man back then. There must be a twenty-year age difference between them.”

  “But there’s no evidence Dietrich ever served time in prison up until the switch,” David continued. “We thought he might have worked there, but we can’t find a trace of him except in the letters. As far as we know, he could have been a free man before they made the switch. But when you’re in prison, you age faster. When you’re in solitary, you age even faster. And thirty years in solitary? That’s the current record in New York State. Dawkins could have easily caught up to Dietrich in age appearance after being in solitary for decades. Who knows? They might have done some plastic surgery too.”

  “Yes, that’s a stretch, but it seems possible,” Julius replied. “Do you think Dietrich is putting on an act impersonating Dawkins? Do you think Dietrich even knows he’s not Dawkins?”

  “I don’t think he knows. His memories as Dawkins are shaky and can change in a flash.”

  “So you think Dietrich has been brainwashed to believe he’s Dawkins?”

  “Yes, I think that might be what is going on. But, the thing is, I don’t know when it took place. It could’ve happened years ago so that Dietrich now has his own memories as Dawkins from his time in solitary on top of the actual ones that were transferred to him from Dawkins.”

  “For real?” Julius sounded gob-smacked.

  “Yes. You gave me that idea when you told me about Dr. Ewen Cameron’s background. I’ve read a lot about him since then.”

  “But Ewen Cameron died in 1967.”

  David dived back into his theory, “What’s to say he didn’t establish a research lab at Kranston that continues today? Like you said, he stopped there frequently in traveling from Albany to Montreal. He used predominantly female subjects at Allan Memorial Institute. But let’s face it, back then the CIA was interested in brainwashing men, not women. They wanted to not only brainwash enemy men, but they also wanted to prevent our men from being brainwashed. How could Cameron be sure his findings applied to men, especially American men? He needed to have male subjects to prove the efficacy of his research to the CIA. Now I read that experimenting on Americans like Cameron did was illegal back then and that’s why Cameron did his dirty work on Canadians. So, if he was going to do any research in the USA, he’d
have to do it secretly. What’s more secret than a maximum-security prison with a solitary confinement wing filled with men who have been forgotten? There’s no such thing as a surprise inspection of solitary confinement facilities at New York State prisons, if there’s any inspection at all. Show me photos or videos of men in solitary in New York. They don’t exist. In this state it’s okay for us to violate the Mandela Rule. Fifteen days or fifteen years? Who cares? Nobody cares about these men. Our media doesn’t care about them. Reporters go after Third World countries for their human rights violations, but they don’t look in their own backyard. But even if they did care, the Bureau of Prisons wouldn’t let them in to look around. Nope, they’d say it was a security issue—like they’ve done for decades. What a perfect set-up to get away with absolutely anything— for the CIA to do its thing.”

  “But there’s no evidence that these experiments ever took place at Kranston,” sputtered Julius.

  David was ready for that. “CIA Director Richard Helms ordered most of the MK-Ultra records destroyed in 1973 before existence of the program was uncovered in 1977. So we’ll never really know everything. It’s safe to say that the CIA destroyed the most damaging information in that purge. Anything going on at Kranston would fit that bill because it would have been illegal.”

  “What makes you think these experiments are taking place today?”

  “Before MK-Ultra and other programs were exposed, the CIA denied the existence of these experiments. Why would they admit to their existence today, if they were still going on? So, if you believe nothing has changed with the CIA over the years, you can’t deny the possibility that this secret program still exists today.”

  “But Cameron’s experiments demonstrated he could only wipe memories out. He couldn’t replace them with anything for an extended period.”

  “That was then; this is now—fifty years later. If the experiments continued, they must have made some progress. They had all the time in the world to record Dawkins’ memories and transfer some of them or all of them to Dietrich. All they had to do is sit down with him and record his memories, like they were having a friendly chat with him. What else did Dawkins have to do in the box but talk? Out of all the inmates held in solitary, Dawkins would have been the perfect subject because he was the longest-held man in solitary. It’s no wonder they never let him out to join the general population. Why they never let him out of the box was a big mystery to me, but now it all fits.”