by Gene Epstein
After a 30-minute lunch, they headed back to continue their work. Simpson scanned through various pages after the officer on the ground was doing a cursory inspection to see if they were organized by year and then hopefully by the month.
At 3:55 p.m. on the first day the younger of the two rookies who inspected the contents called Simpson's attention to what a box with the year and the month they were seeking. There it was: August 1974. Now to dissect every page without forgetting where the file came from in the event they had to look at the cartons before and after it.
“I have it, Detective Simpson,” the elated rookie shouted. “Take a look. It's a sale of a Colt Junior, 22-caliber short semi-automatic pistol serial number 59711CC to Robert Snyder on August 9th, 1974.”
“Let me get the Polaroid to photograph the box and the file jacket. You guys did a good job. I'm proud of you. You made my day much easier,” Simpson complimented both of them.
Moments later they all were working to replace the cartons that they took down so everything was the same as when they first arrived, except for removing one folder that had the purchase by Robert Snyder.
Back at the office, Simpson found that Theo had already gone home. It was after 6 p.m. He didn’t want to call Theo at home but was anxious to report what he felt was great news.
***
The next morning when Harrison arrived, sitting on his desk was the bill of sale from Ruttenberg’s to Robert Snyder. A jubilant Harrison went over to the Simpson’s cubicle finding him on the phone. Harrison put his arm around Simpson’s back and squeezed without saying anything. When Simpson finished his phone call he walked over to Harrison's desk looking somewhat dejected.
“What's wrong with you? I thought you'd be tap dancing finding this record, a real needle in a haystack?”
“Theo, I placed a call to the National Tracing Center in Martinsburg West Virginia wanting to find out if this pistol might've been used in another homicide and was shocked to find out that they have no true database; everything is done by hand having numerous people searching through thousands upon thousands of records.”
“You can thank the NRA for that,” Harrison said. “They protested any national database so we're living in the 19th century as far as I'm concerned when it comes to records pertaining to handguns. I don't care about any other homicide, just this one. Did you find the pawnshop that he supposedly sold the gun to?”
“Not yet. Just finished finding the records in that stinkpot building.”
“Track down the pawnshop. Hopefully, they have a record of the purchase and the sale. I would not be surprised if they act ignorant because so many of them are sleazy; they'll sell anything to make a dollar. Most of them will buy stolen merchandise and act ignorant when they’re caught. We do need to find that gun,” Harrison instructed.
Driving the streets of Philadelphia, Simpson went up and back on Samson Street both East and West of Broad St., to no avail. He could not find any pawnshop. He thought that with the building revival going on in Center City, perhaps one of the new buildings was where the previous pawnshop was if there was a previous pawnshop. He parked his vehicle and went door-to-door on both sides of the street inquiring from shopkeepers if they knew where there was a pawnshop previously. He was told that there was one that is now a record shop and that the pawnshop closed about three years ago when everybody's rent was raised and they believe that they just went out of business.
***
Two days later there was a call for Detective Simpson from the manager of Gladwyne Bank and Trust.
“Detective Simpson, this is Edward Morrissey. You asked me to call you if there was something that I thought would help you. It seems like my assistant was there the same day that William Spaulding opened Mrs. Moore’s safe deposit box and the following day a customer of ours, Mr. Robert Snyder who manages Mrs. Moore’s property, entered the safe to get access to his own safe deposit box. Honestly, I don't know what's going on but I just wanted to pass that information to you. Had I known that when you were here, I would've certainly informed you.”
“Mr. Morrissey, thank you very much. That is very helpful. Once again if something else comes up please call me.”
“Theo. I think we might have the break that we were looking for. Why in the world would Robert Snyder go to Gladwyne Bank and Trust to the safe deposit box in his name the day after William Spaulding was there?”
“Get Snyder’s ass in here. That SOB has been playing with us. It’s over. I want him in here with both of us,” Harrison demanded.
Chapter 26
Simpson placed to call to Robert Snyder only to get his answering machine. He left the following message:
“Mr. Snyder. It is urgent that you come to this office immediately. You have 24 hours to get here.”
Robert felt like a freshman after completing a walk-through at Temple Law School for post-graduate students. After finishing he drove to Amanda's apartment getting there before she did. He used the key that she had given him, laid his books on the countertop in the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee. When the brew was ready he sat on one of the stools at the counter and flipped through some of his new law books. Moments later he reached for the phone and called his answering machine. Hearing the very emphatic message, he called Detective Simpson immediately.
“I received your call, detective, and you sound very upset. What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Snyder, I need you in my office immediately, with no excuses. I'm going to wait for you. Can I expect you shortly?”
“Yes, Detective. I’ll leave now.”
Robert left a note on the counter for Amanda simply stating: Detective wants me at the department immediately and I will call you on the way back. Love.
He rushed as quickly as possible navigating traffic jams but it still took him nearly an hour. He went to the police department headquarters then to the detective division where he found Simpson and Harrison both waiting for him. He had no idea what to expect.
“Mr. Snyder, where is the pistol?” Simpson, hands on hips, appeared very aggravated. Harrison also stood.
“Detectives, I told you. I sold it to a pawnshop several years ago. I have no idea what they did with it.”
“Mr. Snyder, we know you went to your safe deposit box within 48 after Mrs. Moore was murdered. What caused you to go there?" Harrison demanded.
It was the first time that Robert Snyder had nothing to say. He looked at both of the detectives shrugged his shoulders. “What do you want me to tell you?”
“The truth goddamnit! Just the fucking truth!” a pissed off Harrison responded.
“Am I under arrest?”
Simpson spoke. “Not yet. You will be if we don't get answers.”
“I'm sorry but I can't tell you.”
“We want you to open up the safe deposit box,” Harrison said. “If not, tomorrow we will get a court order to have it drilled open. I have already authorized the safe deposit box to be sealed.”
“Detectives, I really want to cooperate but if I'm not being arrested I'm leaving. I'm going to get in touch with an attorney because I don't like the way this is going.”
Robert waited for a response and hearing none he slowly turned around and headed back to his car. He had no idea what to do first, thinking he should call Bill Spaulding then figuring he had better discuss it with Amanda.
His mind was spinning. He never thought that anyone would associate his trip to the bank with the murder of Mrs. Moore.
How do I explain it to Amanda? Will she think that I killed Mrs. Moore? He had a nervous stomach on the trip back to Amanda's apartment. I have to tell her something.
***
By the time Robert returned to Amanda's apartment, she already had dinner on the table. Robert looked upset and he came over simply to hug her.
“Robert, what happened? You look like you so a ghost.”
“I don't know where to start. I’m shook up and totally confused. The detectives wanted me to open up
my safe deposit box and threatened that if I did not they would get a court order.”
“What’s going on?”
“They traced the records of my purchase of the 22-caliber pistol from years ago at Ruttenberg’s. It confirmed everything that I told them, except when I told him that I sold it to a pawnshop. I lied. I did not sell it. I kept it all these years.”
“You kept it?” an astonished Amanda asked. “But you told me that you sold it to a pawnshop. Why would you lie? And lie to me?”
“I used to keep it under my pillow for the months that I shared an apartment with those creepy guys. And when I moved I still continued doing it as a habit. When I went to work for Mrs. Moore and became comfortable in my surroundings, I stopped that habit and put it on the top of my clothes closet shelf. It remained there. I never touched it. Then after the detectives told me that Mrs. Moore was killed with a 22-caliber pistol I got worried whether my pistol was still there.”
He took some deep breaths.
"I went to the closet and it wasn't in the corner where I placed it, but in the middle, which got me scared. Could someone have taken my pistol and killed the woman that I cared for and blamed me? So I took it and put it in the safe deposit box that I had. I was praying that they found somebody that did it and that no one ever used my gun.”
“Robert, you have to tell the detectives. Perhaps there are some fingerprints that will point them in a direction other than you, or hopefully, they find after a ballistics test that your gun was never used for her murder. If I didn't have a caseload I would go with you.”
“What if it is the gun that killed her? I’ll go to jail. I didn’t do anything but care for her. I’m scared.”
Amanda had a nervous stomach. What if the man she loves and is going to marry is a killer?
“Do you want me to call them for you?” Amanda asked.
“No, I’ll call them now.” Robert then dialed to call Detective Harrison or Simpson.
Simpson answered, “Can I help you?”
“Yes, Detective. This is Robert Snyder. I have some things to discuss with you and I am willing to open my safe deposit box for your inspection and to take my pistol.”
A shocked Simpson was confused. If Snyder was the killer why would he volunteer to have us remove his pistol? Did he own more than one and was this one not used in the murder so that we are thrown a curve?
“Where do you want me to meet you, detective since I want to discuss my actions?”
“How about at the bank tomorrow morning at 9:30? After that, we can drive to my office.”
“I will be there, Detective. See you then.”
Amanda was relieved that he was going to open up the safe deposit box. She believed that was the right thing to do and if he had nothing to do with the murder it would certainly be obvious that it wasn't him. She reheated the meal that she had prepared for him but he had no appetite. It was not a cause for celebration for either of them. All that each of them thought about was handing over the pistol and hoping it did not match the bullet that killed Mrs. Moore.
***
Taking a cup of coffee for the ride to Gladwyne Bank and Trust and fighting heavier than usual city traffic Robert still arrived at the bank on time. Detective Simpson’s automobile was parked outside with him at the wheel.
“Let's see what's in the bank first and then we can have that discussion,” Simpson instructed.
After cordial greetings to the assistant manager, the safe deposit vault was opened and Robert signed in handing the attendant his key. Box 304 was in Robert Snyder's name and its contents revealed to Detective Simpson.
Right in front of him was the 22-caliber semi-automatic pistol that Robert had purchased from Ruttenberg’s in addition to his birth certificate, a baptismal certificate, his expired passport, and one expired driver’s license. Simpson picked up the pistol by its finger guard using a pen and placed it in a plastic bag. The detective and Robert both thanked the attendant and assistant manager then departed.
“Mr. Snyder, would you mind following me to headquarters and then we can have whatever discussion you would like?”
“No problem,” Robert Snyder replied, although he felt nervous.
Robert followed Simpson to his office. Harrison came over and signed the 22-caliber pistol into the evidence room. Robert apologized to both the detectives for not being truthful about the pistol when he said that he sold it to a pawnshop. He explained that he was scared and would not have taken the gun to put it in the safe deposit box had the police officers at the house not mentioned that it was a 22-caliber bullet. He went on to tell them about why he purchased the pistol years ago and how he used to keep it under his pillow until he actually got comfortable at Hampton Court. There was no doubt in his mind exactly where he placed the pistol on the right-hand side of the shelf in his closet where it remained for over a year. All he could think of was that he knew that he didn't kill Mrs. Moore but he was one of just a few people that had a key to the house and he lived on the property. He felt anyone from the outside looking at the situation would believe he is the number one suspect. He told the detectives that Stasha came knocking on his door screaming hysterically and when he opened the door she came in to tell him. He then ran to the house immediately, leaving Stasha behind.
After the police had done their investigation, he went back into his apartment. He looked for his 22-caliber pistol and saw it had been moved to the center of the shelf. Then he got really scared and figured that maybe the housekeeper had taken his pistol and used it to kill Mrs. Moore, though he seriously doubted it.
“Detectives, I didn’t know what to do. I panicked. The next day I put the pistol in my safe deposit box. I apologize and pray that my pistol did not kill Mrs. Moore.”
“We will know as soon as possible, Mr. Snyder. We don't do ballistics here. The pistol will have to be sent to the lab in Norristown. They have the latest technology there,” Detective Harrison informed Robert.
“How soon can that be?”
“It's not like in books or television. This could take from a couple of weeks to a month or so, depending on the priority.”
“I hope it's quick. I can't take much more of this,” Robert said and left.
“Theo. Do you believe this guy?”
“I don't know who to believe. But I would check that housekeeper again. We've got nothing to lose while ballistics does their thing.”
“I'll put this through for a priority if it helps.”
Simpson once again opened the file, this time looking for Stasha or her boyfriend Aleksander’s phone number. He waited till 6 p.m., believing that she would be home by then. and called her. She was home and the detective asked her for Aleksander’s last name which she provided. Luschak. Aleksander Luschak. He has been living with her for seven years. She did not have a work telephone number for him. After hanging up the phone he ran a check to see what if anything came up and was shocked to find out that less than four years ago he was released from prison after serving five years for armed robbery. He certainly wasn’t living with Stasha for seven years although it may have seemed like that. Could she have provided Aleksander with a key to Hampton Court or innocently put it in her pocketbook and he stole it?
At 8 o'clock that evening he called back and Aleksandra was there. Simpson explained that he needed to talk with him and arranged to meet him at noon at a Wawa store at 22nd and Edgemont Avenue in Chester, Pennsylvania.
***
As Simpson pulled his car into the parking lot, he pretty much was able to discern who Aleksander was. Standing alongside the two glass entrance doors was an overweight, cigarette-smoking, and tattooed man fitting the description given by Robert Snyder.
He asked, “Are you Aleksander?” To which the man simply nodded his head up and down in confirmation as and exhaled a cigarette smoke ring.
“What is it you want from me?” he asked in a very deep and heavy Polish voice.
“I'm one of the detectives investigating the homi
cide at Hampton Court last December. I've been told that you were there weekly. Is there a place that we can sit down here?”
“No seating. Your car,” he answered.
Simpson walked over to his Ford sedan and opened up the front passenger door letting Aleksander in and then sat in the front driver’s seat.
“To set the record straight, I know you served five years from robbery so let's eliminate any bullshit. You went to the property where Stasha worked once a week .Mrs. Moore was killed which you know. Where were you that day that she was murdered?”
“Do I need lawyer?”
“Only if I arrest you. As I asked, where were you that day and the day before?”
“Mister detective. I work hard at auto body shop on Upland Avenue every day and some nights. Some days Stasha car breaks down and I have to take her to work. Some days she give her car to a friend to go to New Jersey to see her sick mother and I drive Stasha to work and then go to my job. Here is the card where I work. Call my boss. He got card when I sign in and when I leave. You want more, I call lawyer.” Alek opened up the door and left.
***
When Simpson returned to the office, as usual, he updated Harrison.
“Harold, you can check everybody and I want you to; however, my gut says that this Robert Snyder did it and had the most to gain. He’s sharp and don't forget that he is an actor. When the ballistics report comes back we're going to be sending out a warrant for his arrest. You mark my word. That doesn't mean that you slack off anything. Keep digging deeper. We were both wrong with that Billy Thompson. I don’t wanna see that happen again. It’s your future and my retirement. I don’t want anything to interfere with it so roll up your sleeves and do the best that you can do." Harrison instructed Simpson and added,
“Take a good look at the timecards to see that nobody signed him in or out, which a lot of guys do for friends at work.”
Chapter 27