by Brian Shea
“Nicely done.”
“Don’t thank me yet. The father’s a bit pissed, to say the least, and he’s well connected. There’s a storm brewing and we’re going to be at the epicenter of it.”
“Nothing new there.”
Kelly picked up the file containing the information on the recent missing person, Tabitha Porter. He devoured the contents therein and then did a comparison with the North Andover report. Kelly wanted all the ammo for his arsenal when he sat with Clive Branson. This time the cocky prep schooler would be on his turf, and Kelly wanted to make sure he capitalized on the home-field advantage.
He pulled his phone out. Kelly had one call to make before Branson’s visit.
“Hello. I’m looking to speak with Alton Jeffries.”
“Who may I ask is calling?” the thick, nasally voice on the other end inquired.
“This is Detective Michael Kelly with Boston PD.”
The man cleared his throat. It sounded as though the call woke him. Being retired, a ten a.m. wake-up seemed pretty great.
“How can I help a fellow brother in blue?”
Kelly heard the tone immediately change in the retired North Andover detective. “I’m following up on an old case you worked.”
“I’m living in Florida now. Well, at least part of the year until I can get out from under my house.” Jeffries chuckled. “How can I help you? I’ll do my best with whatever I can remember. For specific facts of a case, you’d have to pull the file. But assuming you got my cellphone number, I’m going to guess you’ve already done that.”
“I did, you’re right. I am calling about a missing person case you worked on, a girl by the name of Faith Wilson.”
“Wilson? Yeah, I think I’ve got a vague recollection of the case,” Jeffries said. “She pop up in Bean Town?”
“She did. I came across her Tuesday morning.”
“Okay, that’s good. What do you need from my end?”
“She’s dead. If I failed to mention at the beginning of this conversation, I’m Homicide.”
No words spoken. If not for the steady labored exhalation, Kelly would have thought Jeffries had disconnected. He waited. Silence acted upon the mind in strange ways. A person’s natural need to fill gaps in conversation were an interrogator’s tool.
“That’s a damn shame.” Jeffries coughed. “From what I remember, she seemed like a nice girl. Must’ve run off and got mixed up with the wrong crowd.”
“Part of what you said is right. She definitely fell in with the wrong people. But where you’re wrong, that girl didn’t run off.”
“What are you getting at?”
Kelly heard the tone change from placidity to aggression. He’d struck a nerve. “She was recruited. Enticed. Snatched. I don’t know exactly yet, but one thing is for certain, Faith Wilson didn’t just run away.”
“Okay. I still don’t see why you’re calling me.”
“You don’t?” Kelly asked rhetorically. “Let me be more blunt. You dropped the ball, Jeffries. You had a lead and you never followed up. My only question is why?”
Jeffries exhaled loud and slow. Kelly heard the click of a lighter. “How much time you got?”
13
Clive Branson waited in the headquarters lobby with his attorney. Kelly had been notified by the desk sergeant ten minutes prior. He didn’t mind making the prep school thug wait. In fact, he hoped it would have an alarming effect on the boy’s psyche. The walk-in complaints that trickled into One Schroeder Plaza were as unique as the people presenting them. Kelly was sure Branson would have an earful as irate citizens of the city pled their cases through the heavy bulletproof glass of the main desk. Many of the most vocal of complaints came from the mentally ill seeking justice for the crimes, real or imagined, that befell them. Kelly hoped this introduction into city life would rattle the cocky teen.
Kelly and Barnes used the time to organize their pre-interview notes. They also set up the interview room to their liking. Kelly intentionally left the attorney’s chair out of the room so the man would have to stand above his client while it got retrieved. He wanted Branson to feel isolated and alone. Minor manipulations sometimes paid big dividends in the long run of an interrogation.
The two had decided on using an interview room in Homicide rather than SAU. It would have more of a psychological impact on the boy. The buzz of the murder police unit’s office space was an intimidating beast to behold, even for a cocky teen who thought he was untouchable.
Barnes accompanied Kelly on the short elevator ride down to the main lobby area. Kelly stepped out onto the shiny, rust-colored tile floor. “Mr. Shapiro? We’re ready for you now.”
The man seated next to Branson stood and bent to whisper into his client’s ear. Shapiro wasn’t exactly as Kelly had pictured when speaking to the attorney on the phone, but he was close. He was short, about five foot five, with a round middle. He wore a light tan trench coat over a dark-colored suit. Kelly didn’t know much about fashion, but could tell no expense had been spared in the ensemble. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and his hair was closely cropped, thinning at the top.
The attorney moved in quick, choppy steps as Branson sauntered behind. Kelly could tell the boy was trying too hard at playing this cool. The overt nonchalant mannerisms were a mask covering his fear. No need to expose his weakness yet. There’d be time for that very soon.
Shapiro stuck out his stubby hand and Kelly shook it.
“Detective.”
“Thank you for taking the time to come in today.” Kelly guided them toward the open doors of the awaiting elevator. “This is Detective Barnes. She’s been brought in from the Sexual Assault Unit to assist in this case.”
Shapiro nodded and shook her hand as Barnes released the button, enclosing the group in the elevator’s meager space. Kelly caught Branson give Barnes the elevator-eye treatment. Even under the duress of a criminal investigation, this conceited teen still had the balls to check her out. That familiar longing to punch the kid in the face arose again, but Kelly suppressed it. The only assault he’d lay would be done with words. And unlike the saying, Kelly knew better, and words could really hurt.
Nothing was said during the short trip up. No need for small talk. Shapiro would be looking for any angle to help his client and, unless Branson was advised of his rights under Miranda, anything discussed could be torn apart in front of a judge later.
The elevator arrived on the second floor and Kelly, acting as tour guide, led them down the hall to Homicide. Barnes brought up the rear.
Once inside, Kelly navigated the group past several of the clustered workstations to a closed room on the left-hand side marked Interview Room #3. Kelly unlocked the door and turned on the interior light. He stepped back, allowing Shapiro and Branson to enter. “Have a seat over there on the other side of the table. Mr. Shapiro, let me go get you a chair. There’s usually an extra seat inside. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“We’re fine, thank you.” Shapiro stood awkwardly beside his client as Branson took his seat.
“Just so you know. The door will remain unlocked during our time here today.” Kelly pushed the handle down a few times for good measure. In interviewing juveniles, it was critical to prove no level of coercion. Even a locked door could be construed by a good defense attorney as intimidation. “Also, I activated the camera system. Everything discussed in this room will be recorded by audio and video.”
Kelly closed the door, and he and Barnes walked over to Sergeant Sutherland. “I see you’re using the old missing chair trick.” He chuckled. “Never gets old.”
Kelly smiled. “Figured I’d pull out all the stops on this one.”
“You know this case is getting a lot of prying eyes. This kid’s dad has got some juice with the mayor. We’ve already been bombarded with requests to notify his office directly at the conclusion of this interview.”
“Maybe the mayor should keep his distance from this one. Not sure he’s going to be wanting to a
nte in on this kid’s behalf. Especially during an election year.” Kelly threw his hands up. “But hey, who am I?”
“Not my place to advise him. He just wants updates. What he does with them is on him.”
“Mayor’s going to be seeing my name a bit this week,” Kelly said.
“How’s that?”
“I’ve got the Baxter Green deposition tomorrow.”
“That’s right. Forgot about it. Hell of a week for you.” Sutherland didn’t wait for a response before he walked away.
Kelly turned his attention to Barnes. “Any final thoughts before we go in there?”
“Your show. I think we’ve got a good handle on how we want to approach him and where he fits in the scheme of things.”
“Listen, sex crimes aren’t my forte. I want you to chime in at any time you deem necessary.”
“Will do.” Barnes’s eyes conveyed confidence. “Let’s go in and have a little chat with our new friend, Clive.”
Kelly dragged the extra chair behind him as he entered. It was an uncomfortable metal folding chair, not like the cushioned one his client was seated in. “Here you go, counselor. Sorry about that.”
Shapiro eyed the chair but said nothing. Kelly was prepared to get him another, but wanted to test the attorney’s comfort in asserting himself. Good sign, he was less so in person than he was during the phone conversation.
“Before we begin, I’d like to take a moment to advise your client of his rights.” Kelly and Barnes sat side by side across from Branson and Shapiro. Only the rectangular table separated the opposing groups. Kelly fished out a single sheet of paper from his folder. “I want to ensure that Clive understands his rights before we engage in any conversation.”
“I know it already. You have the right to remain silent. Blah, blah, blah.” Branson leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.
“Not that simple.” Kelly turned the form so Branson and his attorney could read along as he read. “You see, unlike on TV and in movies, you need to initial after each line I read to you. I’m going to want you to explain in your own words what each of your rights means to you so that I can gauge your understanding.”
Kelly learned to not take anybody’s claimed understanding for granted. He once asked a suspect what the right to remain silent meant and the man answered, “I shut my mouth when you talk.” What made the pitiful explanation more daunting was, at that point, the man had been arrested over thirty times. Now, and especially when dealing with juveniles, Kelly verified.
The Miranda warning took close to fifteen minutes to complete, and with Shapiro’s consent, Clive Branson agreed to talk about the Faith Wilson case.
“How did you come to meet Faith Wilson?” Kelly asked. Normally he would spend an additional block of time building rapport with the suspect and look at areas where they could connect and bond, but that would be a challenging road at best, considering their first interaction. Plus, Clive Branson had an arrogant aura, and feigning interest in the kid’s already bloated ego would ring false. Kelly figured it was better to dive right in and grind out the case facts.
“Like I told you yesterday. I don’t know any Faith Wilson.”
“If this is where we are going to begin, then we might as well call it quits here and now. Mr. Shapiro, I assumed you briefed your client on the nature of this case and the evidence we have going forward with or without his cooperation?” Barnes asked.
“I did, Detective Barnes. I understand your position.” Shapiro turned toward his client. “Clive, we discussed this.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Branson leaned forward and played with his Bieberesque hairdo. “I don’t know what exactly you want me to say. She approached me on Facebook. That’s it. No big deal. Not my fault she ran away afterward. Kids do stupid things.”
“So, she contacted you? Are you sure you want to start going down this path with us?” Kelly tapped the thick file folder set on the table in front of him.
“What’s that?”
“Detective Jeffries may have been afraid to go after you, but we’re not.” Kelly deadened his stare at the boy. He could read the discomfort in his smooth, unblemished face. “He did a search warrant for your social media account. I would think twice before you choose to answer with any more wasted lies.”
Branson’s cheeks flushed and the confidence dwindled like a candle deprived of oxygen. “Okay, so I reached out to her. What’s the big deal? People do that all the time.”
“And you told her how beautiful she was and that you wanted to meet up with her. Any of this ring a bell?”
“Not really, but I assume I said it if you got the records to prove it. Again, kids my age flirt like that. Nothing criminal about it.”
“What if I told you she was twelve?” Barnes asked.
Branson looked as though he was going to be sick. “What? Twelve? Nah. I don’t mess with girls that young.”
“You did. And like you said, we have the records to prove it,” Kelly said. He could feel the perceived advantage shift in their direction. All Barnes had told Shapiro was that we had enough evidence to proceed with a warrant for conspiring to solicit an underage girl for sex. It had been enough to get them in the door to deliver the real blow.
“I’d like to see those records,” Shapiro requested.
“In good time.” Kelly slid the file further away. “The real question is, do you and your client want to assist in helping us find who did this, or are we to assume Clive was in collusion? Either way works for us.”
“Could you give me a minute with my client?” Shapiro almost stammered the question. A line of perspiration formed on the attorney’s furrowed brow.
“Sure thing. Oh, and just so you know, we’re looking at another missing person case involving your client.”
Kelly and Barnes stood. Kelly took his file with him as they exited.
Before the door closed, Shapiro asked, “Please turn off the recording device.”
Ten minutes later, Shapiro opened the door to the interview room and waved at Kelly and Barnes. They approached.
Shapiro closed the door behind him, leaving Branson alone in the room while he spoke with the detectives. “We’d like to discuss the option of brokering a deal. Full and complete disclosure in exchange for total immunity for my client.”
“Total immunity for him? I guess he didn’t explain his role in things.” Kelly was starting to let his frustration get the better of him.
“He did. Well, at least I’ve got a good idea of things and can fill in the details on the rest.” Shapiro wiped at sweat with a red handkerchief he pulled from his breast pocket. “I think you’re going to have a tough time proving this in court. But, beyond that, my client’s father is a well-respected businessman within the commonwealth and doesn’t want his son’s name dragged through the mud. Also, if we do this, there will be no recording, only what you write in notes. My client’s father doesn’t want a soundbite of his son being leaked to the media.”
“Maybe he should have thought of that before he let his son run around the state picking up girls,” Kelly hissed.
Barnes put a hand on Kelly’s shoulder. The contact immediately soothed his building rage.
“Mr. Shapiro, give us a moment to confer with prosecution,” Barnes said.
Shapiro re-entered the interview room.
Kelly and Barnes retreated to his cubicle. “What do you mean ‘talk to prosecution?’ You think we should cut this little prick a deal?”
“Mike, I’m just saying his attorney may have a point. I’ve worked these cases before. Having a bunch of messages and pictures from a social media profile looks bad in front of a jury, but a good defense attorney is going to eat us alive. There’s no definitive proof.” Barnes’s green eyes pleaded with him. “This might be our first real bit of usable information. If nothing else, maybe we get a lock on where Tabitha Porter may be.”
Kelly sighed and picked up the phone.
Chris Watson, prosecutor with Suffolk County
District Attorney’s Office, answered on the second ring, “Michael Kelly, is this about the Wilson case?”
“How’d you know?”
“My boss has already received a call about some teenager you’re interviewing.”
Kelly rubbed his temples. “I’m meeting with him and his attorney now. They want to broker a deal. Full confession in trade for zero backlash.”
Watson grumbled something. Kelly liked the prosecutor and was glad when he heard Watson had been assigned the case. Big cases always had the early ear of the DA’s office. It helped having them involved from the start so that they weren’t caught off guard with a big, steaming pile at the end. “Not much else to go on until we get some forensics back. I say take the deal. Offer immunity for the exchange.”
“Will do.”
“And Kelly, make sure you drain this kid for every last drop of information. I’ve got to run. Keep me posted if I can be of any assistance. You’ve got my cell.”
The call ended and Kelly looked at Barnes. “Let’s go chat with young Mr. Branson.”
The duo returned to the room and assumed their respective seats. The smug look on Branson’s face seemed to have dissipated a bit since they’d left. Whatever attorney-client privileged conversation took place in their absence seemed to have leveled the teen’s overinflated ego.
“I’ve spoken with the Assistant District Attorney Watson with regard to your request and he will support it as long as your client holds up his end of the deal.”
Shapiro gave a stern eye to the boy. “You will have our full cooperation.”
“So, let’s get back to where we left off. You claimed our girl contacted you. Let’s set the record straight on that and then move forward,” Kelly said to Branson.
“I hit up lots of girls. It’s what I do. And yeah, I reached out and messaged that girl.”
“So, you messaged Faith. And then what?”
“We talked a bit. This and that.”
“I actually have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kelly shifted and addressed Shapiro. “If your client doesn’t want to clearly state the facts and speak using his expensive prep school education, then I’m going to start losing my patience with this cat-and-mouse game.”