by Pat Muir
“We don’t know. We are simply gathering evidence,” I responded as neutrally as I could.
Mary paused before she spoke. “I don’t know if it has any bearing on what you are looking for, but on the Tuesday before Art left, there was a problem in his mobile home.” I stared at her. She continued. “I had been grocery shopping and returned to find Ginger meowing very loudly and scratching at Art’s back door. I opened it to find the home full of gas. The leak was in the connector to the stove. I turned the gas valve off and opened the doors and windows to air the place out. Then I called Art, and he came home. We had a heck of a job trying to catch Ginger, who fled when I opened the door.”
“What did Art say about this?”
“He was quite nonchalant about it. He thanked me for saving Ginger and for preventing an explosion and fire. He looked at the gas connector and said it had probably cracked from wear after the stove had been pulled back and forth for cleaning.”
“And then?”
“Nothing. He just replaced it as though nothing had happened.”
I went into the shed and looked in the waste bucket. There lay the damaged gas connector. I picked it out with my gloved hands and put it in an evidence bag.
“Please keep me informed if you hear anything about Art,” Mary said plaintively as we left.
I called Tom Small to tell him we needed to pick up Flynn’s tent and demurred when he asked why. The case had become much more serious, and the tent might be a significant piece of evidence. I phoned the Sonoma County sheriff’s office and informed Angie Haigh that the missing person’s car had been recovered and bloodstains had been found in its trunk. I asked her to get the tent from the fishing camp and ship it to us so that our department would be the depository for all evidence on the case. Angie asked if we thought Flynn had been murdered and if it was in her county. I gave her an “I don’t know” to both questions, and she sounded relieved. I also asked her to check the R1 site in case there was any evidence of blood there. She pointed out that any blood found at the site would be inadmissible as evidence since the site had since been subsequently occupied. Nevertheless, she agreed to have it done. I also asked her to get the fingerprints of everybody who’d handled the tent.
I did a background check on Bill Dollar and Alisha Johnson, who apparently lived together in Carson, a city adjacent to Compton near where Flynn’s car was found. Alisha worked as a dental technician in nearby Lakewood and had a clean record. Bill worked as a mechanic in an auto garage in Compton. He had been convicted of petty theft five years earlier and had done community service as punishment. The file noted he had been suspected of car theft, possibly for a chop shop, where the vehicles are stripped for parts. This background comported with the loss of parts from Flynn’s Camry. The question in my mind was: if they had been involved in killing Flynn and driving his car to Compton, how did they do it, since they left the day after Flynn’s car disappeared?
CHAPTER 9
Danny called me to say he had analyzed the items from Flynn’s tent that I had taken from Watson. There was no blood on any of them. He said he would get back to me in a few days about whether the blood in the Camry shell was Flynn’s. He said he would need Flynn’s fingerprints, which would be on file with the Department of Real Estate (DRE). I sent off a request to the DRE for Flynn’s fingerprints before I briefed Thompson to tell him of the status in the investigation of the missing man. I told him we had found Flynn’s car stripped in Compton and with a bloodlike stain in its trunk.
“And you didn’t want to take his missing person case,” he jeered. “It’s turned out quite interesting, hasn’t it?”
I did not reply but raised my third finger behind his back. On the treadmill that evening, I kept thinking about the case and trying to make sense of what I had learned. Danny hadn’t called me about any match between the DNA of the trunk biomaterial and the DNA taken from Flynn’s mobile home, so I speculated as I trotted. If there was a match, then it meant Flynn had been injured or murdered. I would be looking at the missing man’s neighbors at the fishing camp as possible suspects. I thought it unlikely that people with vehicles connected to utilities to the west of the camping sites could be responsible. His camping neighbors were much more likely. The only people who’d left the same day Flynn had disappeared were the Browns in site R2, an elderly couple, according to Tom Small, incapable of overpowering Flynn. My most likely suspects were those who took Flynn’s belongings. Watson was not strong enough to overpower Flynn, and he had left four days later. Dollar and his girlfriend were capable of overpowering Flynn, but they had gone home a day after Flynn’s car had left the park. And the Mason couple, whoever they were, had left after Dollar and Johnson. Since Dollar and Johnson lived within ten miles of where the car was found, they were the obvious suspects. The question, then, was how had Dollar and Johnson carried out this assault? Was it possible they’d murdered Flynn in his tent? Not likely, since no blood had been found on the cot or other tent contents. I would need to see if there was any on the tent that had just been delivered to the forensics department. It was more likely that they’d chloroformed him while he’d slept, killed him later, and left his dead body in the trunk of his car. That would have meant his body had been stashed in the trunk of the car for over a day in the heat of mid-September. Or they could have stuffed him in a body bag, kept him in their van, and transferred him to his car later. That thought led to the notion that perhaps they’d lured him into their Ford van by offering him a drink. I continued speculating until I went to bed,
The next day, I asked Danny Chu if the smell of a freshly dead body left in a car trunk might not be noticed until after thirty hours. Danny gave me a lecture on the decay of a body and how the bacteria inside consume it in the absence of oxygen. I finally got him to say that if the temperature were not too hot and the trunk were well sealed, the smell of decay might well not be noticeable at the thirty-hour mark. Furthermore, if the body was in a sealed body bag, the smell would be considerably reduced. He then added his Parthian shot. It would get quite hot inside the trunk of Flynn’s black car since black absorbs heat better than white. Perhaps Dollar and Johnson had stashed the car at a less noticeable spot, even outside the park. But why would they have wanted to take that risk? It would have made more sense if one of them had driven Flynn’s car away Sunday night.
I suddenly remembered Bill Dollar saying that Flynn “had left before I did,” not before We did. I also remembered Watson saying that he had not seen Alisha Johnson fishing. I phoned him. “Do you remember seeing Dollar’s girlfriend on Monday, the day you remember that Flynn left?”
Watson replied that he’d seen so little of her that he could not remember whether he’d seen her that day or not. I called Tom Small at the camp and asked him the same question. He brought Terry over and put me on speaker phone.
“Did Dollar’s girlfriend come with him into the office on the day he left, that Tuesday?” I asked.
“No, she did not, and I didn’t see her in the passenger side of the van,” he replied.
“Are you sure of that?”
“Absolutely. She’s a very good-looking woman. I noticed her especially when they came in, and I was looking to see her when Dollar checked out.”
“Can you tell me anything more about the two of them?”
“They were here last year,” said Terry. “Dollar got quite nasty with a waitress in the camp cafeteria and reduced her to tears over something to do with the meal. He also complained about somebody’s dog. This year, he claimed very belligerently about racial slurs he said Mr. Wellhouse had made against him. Dollar isn’t a nice person. I don’t know why his woman puts up with him when, with her looks, she could attract a much better man.”
“Do you have any closed-circuit television cameras that view the comings and goings of people on the site?”
“We only have ones to monitor the entrance and exit to the water slide,” Terry replied.
“That’s to make sure that the
y all pay to get in and to ensure those who behave like hooligans are asked to leave,” Tom interjected.
“Do any of those monitors view the parking lot for that water slide?”
“Only partially,” replied Tom.
“Would you know if anybody left their vehicle overnight there?” I asked.
“Many of them do,” replied Tom. “Some motor homes tow cars behind them and find themselves in sites where their towed cars would protrude into the access road. So, the drivers undo them and park them in the front parking lot.”
“So, cars and trucks being parked overnight in that front lot would not be unusual?” I asked.
“No, it wouldn’t be unusual, nor would we care,” replied Tom.
This discussion, at least, made my hypothesis of Flynn’s car being left at the front all day Monday and being picked up Tuesday morning more plausible. I asked Tom to send me the recorded video from the CCTV for September 13th through the 16th, i.e. the Saturday though the Tuesday.
“I’ll check to see if we have that period. The records are automatically deleted after about thirty days.” replied Tom.
I called Mrs. Wellhouse, and she could not remember whether or not she saw Alisha on the Monday or the Tuesday. I called John Schmitz of site R2 and Roger Harrison of site R5. Neither of them could remember seeing or not seeing Alisha Johnson on either day. My theory Johnson had driven Flynn’s car to Compton on the Monday gathered weight. It would sure help if I knew when that car had arrived in Compton. I called the Compton sergeant to see if he’d had any success in getting locals to tell him about the stripped Camry. He gave me a negative. I needed to question Dollar and his girlfriend. I couldn’t arrest them for stealing the fishing rods; a petty theft would not justify an arrest. Moreover, that would be in the jurisdiction of Sonoma County. I would need to arrest them and search their apartment only if there was a real suspicion of murder. I would have to wait until forensics reported on the stains in the Camry trunk. Tom Small called me to report, unfortunately, that the CCTV records for the pertinent period had been purged.
Two days later came the news I was looking for. “I have confirmed there was blood in the trunk of the Camry, and its DNA matches the DNA samples we took from Flynn’s mobile home,” reported Danny Chu. “There was dried fecal matter there also.”
“And the significance of that?” I asked.
“When a person dies,” Danny replied, “the anal and urinary sphincter muscles relax, and body waste seeps out.”
“You’re telling me there was a dead body in that car and it was almost certainly our missing man Flynn?” I asked.
“That’s right. I should also tell you that we did not find any blood in the interior or exterior of Flynn’s tent.”
I asked Danny to send me the full report for my evidence file. His news saddened me. I had suspected Flynn might have been murdered, but had hoped this decent man might turn up at a hospital or at a resort with a new girlfriend. There was now good reason to arrest Dollar and his girlfriend. I called Angie Haigh at the Sonoma County Sheriff’s office.
“Our forensics department has shown the DNA of biomaterial found in the trunk of the missing man’s car matches that of Flynn,” I told her. “Furthermore, dried body waste confirms a dead body was in that trunk. In essence, a murder was committed. However, no blood was found on Flynn’s tent or its contents.”
“Hm! The absence of blood on the tent and its contents makes it unclear where the murder took place,” she replied.
“I think the murder took place at the fishing camp, and I suspect the couple, Johnson and Dollar, who stole the fishing rods from Flynn’s tent. The problem is their van left the park the day after Flynn’s car went out. I’m working on two possible theories. One is Flynn was killed Sunday night and driven away by Johnson that same night. The other is that Flynn’s body was stashed in the van or his car, left in a convenient spot, and driven off by Johnson on the Tuesday.”
“If the body was taken to Compton or dumped on the way there, then sending out cadaver dogs is a waste of time and resources.”
“Do you want to get your unit involved?”
“Not at this time. The case against these suspects is weak.”
“It has flaws,” I conceded. “Angie, I would like to arrest them on suspicion of murder, but I want to check with you since Sonoma County would have jurisdictional responsibility for the murder if one of my two theories pans out.”
“Shane, you simply don’t know if this murder took place in my county. A great deal more evidence needs to be developed before I have my unit involved or bring this matter to the district attorney. Yes, I know these two are the obvious suspects, but the case against them is too weak to charge them for murder at this point. Furthermore, the argument that Dollar took the fishing rods because he thought the tent and its contents were abandoned is persuasive. You told me another camper also took stuff from the tent. So, I’m not going to go after the pair of them for stealing. Best get the fishing rods back to see if they give you more evidence. I suggest you continue investigating this as a missing person case and keep us posted as before.”
I understood. Better for me to investigate a missing man who had been killed than for Angie to investigate a murder without a body. It implicitly recognized San Diego County had more resources than Sonoma County.
I discussed the issue with Thompson, and he agreed I should arrest Dollar and Johnson on suspicion of murder and prepare a warrant to search their apartment. I included Dollar’s Ford van in the search warrant. “They could have killed Flynn and stuffed him in a body bag in their van,” I told Thompson. The affidavit justifying the warrant was that Dollar camped close to the murdered man, had stolen his fishing gear, and lived near where Flynn’s vehicle had been found, which was at great distance from the campsite. I got Robert Neill to review the warrant application and ran it down to a judge, where I had no trouble getting it issued. I then notified the Carson Sheriff’s office about the warrant and said I would be in Carson the next day to arrest the two. I asked the sergeant in charge to let me question them at his office. He said he would make questioning rooms available and would send deputies to accompany me when I made the arrests. I arranged for Steve Hall to accompany me in the arrest and told him to pack an overnight bag in case we had to stay for another day. Steve said he would take the opportunity while there to visit his parents in Pasadena, so he took his car to Carson. I called Danny Chu to arrange for a forensics team to examine Dollar’s van at the same time.
“If we find anything there, we will have to impound the vehicle and have it towed to San Diego for further analysis,” he told me.
CHAPTER 10
The city of Carson lay to the immediate southwest of Compton, so our route there was almost identical to that when we’d rescued Flynn’s Camry. The traffic congestion remained the same—horrid. I showed my warrant to the sergeant at the sheriff’s station, and he assigned a deputy to go with us. Steve and I drove our separate cars to Dollar and Johnson’s apartment, which lay in an older two-story building a few blocks west of the 710 freeway. Nobody was home. We went to the office and introduced ourselves to the manager, an affable older black man called Albert. I showed him the warrant to search the apartment of William Dollar and Alisha Johnson. He did not seem unduly surprised. I asked to see their rental application, which he duly showed me. It gave their places of employment, prior rental history, names of relatives, credit references, and their cell phone numbers. I asked him for a copy, which he promptly made. I noted they had not listed their bank accounts.
“Do they pay their rent in cash?” I asked Albert.
“Oh no!” he replied. “It’s too dangerous to take cash here. They and other tenants with no bank accounts pay rent with a money order.”
He took us back to our suspects’ apartment and opened it with his master key. The deputy stood outside as Albert, Steve, and I entered the unit. Albert asked what we were looking for. I politely told him it was a police matter, but
the answer would have been that I was looking for cash and fishing rods. I found no loose cash in any drawers other than a few coins on a dressing table. But then I found a cheap safe bolted to the floor in the linen closet, well hidden by blankets. I phoned the Carson sheriff’s office to see if they had a contract locksmith. They did and gave me his phone number. I called and was told one would arrive within forty minutes. Steve and I searched the apartment for the stolen fishing rods and for any other evidence that would tie the couple to Flynn. I asked Albert if the building had storage units for tenants, but his answer was negative. Albert offered to get us coffee from the manager’s office, an offer which we accepted.
I asked Albert about his tenants. “Alisha is a good tenant…pays her rent on time…keeps to herself. She’s been tenant here for three years. She’s very fit…goes to the gym regularly… I’m not happy about the man she hooked up with a year ago, a troublemaker if I ever saw one. He has had several tangles with the neighbors. A few more, and I will have to ask them both to leave.”
“Have you or any other tenant called the police on them?” I asked.
“No,” replied Albert. “The tenants bring their complaints about him to me, and I have to talk to him.” He sighed.
The locksmith arrived, and the safe was opened in less than five minutes. I paid the locksmith’s bill with my business charge card, thinking his fee was outrageous. We found a stack of cash in the safe, nearly all in one-hundred-dollar bills, just like those said to be carried by Flynn. I put on latex gloves and counted the money out carefully in Albert’s presence, not an easy process with gloves on. The cash totaled eight thousand nine hundred dollars, modestly less than the amount Flynn had had on him. I bagged it. Then I wrote a receipt, dated and signed it, and put it in the safe, which I locked. I thanked Albert for his help. Steve and I drove off with the patrol car following us to Alisha Johnson’s place of employment, a modern dental office in Lakewood, a much more upscale community than Carson or Compton. Steve and I entered the office and, after identifying ourselves, told the receptionist we wished to speak to Alisha Johnson.