by Debra Smith
Some would come to sit in the brandy room to drink in a comfortable setting. I decided to have a chat with the judge who declared Clair Sander dead. He was enjoying his retirement after 40 years on the bench. He was sitting in the brandy room, sipping a glass of brandy. The overstuff couches and chairs were spread about to accommodate thirty people comfortably with a stone fireplace in the center of the room and small bar in the corner. The staff wore black vests and pants with white shirts and black ties, carried drinks on silver trays. As I walked in, a young waiter came toward Matti And I. When I showed my badge, I said,” My name is Detective Colter of Silver Springs police department and my partner Officer Matti. I was informed Judge James Lucas is here. I need to speak to him.” Not saying a word, the waiter motion for us to follow him. The waiter walked up to an older gentleman sitting in a chair reading the newspaper and informed him about us. When I sat down on the couch across from him, he ask,” What can I do for you Detective Colter?” I said,” I need to ask you about Clair Sander.” He folded up the newspaper, laid it on the coffee table. After taking a few sips of brandy, a memory came to life. He softly said,” You are here, because, I am the one who declared her dead. Am I right?” I replied,” Yes, there are questions without answers.” Swishing ice cubes around in the glass of brandy as though to stall time for a memory buried deep within was something he wanted to keep hidden. He carefully asked,” How much do you?” His hazel eyes stared at the brandy as he listened to my answer,” I came across a book with a list of names and beside each name was amount marked donation. I have a hunch donation was actually a bribe for you owed the Ruggiero family a lot of money for your poker habit and to save your life Sander paid off the debt to Ruggiero in exchange to declare his wife dead. My question is, how do you declare her dead the very day she went to the ER for head injury she sustained in a car accident?” He let out a sigh as he leaned back into the chair. He answered,” Fifty years has passed, but I remember it as though it was yesterday. Funny, I thought that day would come back to haunt me. Heath called me from the hospital that stormy night. He was angry at his wife as usual. She had hired a PI prior to that night to gather information on him to give to the authorities about Mafia ties. Heath knew he had to silence her permanently and with the head injury she could easily pass away from it with the doctor’s help who he paid a hefty price, too. By me signing the declaration paper, they could put Clair somewhere out of sight until she was dead in her car, in a ravine somewhere after being missing for a month or two. But it did not go as plan.
When I arrived at the hospital, Heath was distraught for Clair had disappeared. The nurse discovered her gone when she pulled the curtain back to take her to get x-rays done. Someone carried Clair who was unconscious out of the hospital. Heath demanded the hospital to be locked down and checked everywhere for he knew he was facing prison as long as Clair was alive. But she was never found. Everyone was questioned by the police. To this day I do not know who carried her out and if she is actually alive. Heath very quickly severed all ties Serjio and led a clean life with a new wife and family. Shortly thereafter, Ruggiero had an all-out gun battle against Serjio. They killed each other with the expectations who survived went to prison.” I ask,” Do you know the real names of those knick names, Trace, Rowdy, Patch, Renegade and Fizzy?” Before answering, he finished his brandy. He sat the glass down on the table. A look of relief as if a heavy burden was lifted from him as he answered,” In my office at home, I have their records. It was my job to keep them out of jail, even when it involved murder. I suspect they did numerous times prior to the shoot-out. All are dead except Trace, aka Trent McClure, the worst one of the bunch.” The judge and I left the country club. I followed his Cadillac to his stone house. When we walked in, we went to his office. His wife walked in. He said,” Elli, this is Detective Colter.” She shook my hand as she ask if I wanted a drink, in which I answered,” I thank you, but no.” When she left the office, he unlocked the cabinet behind his desk. He removed five file folders. One by one, I looked at each one. Fizzy’s real name was Frank McCoy. His rap sheet consisted of burglary, assault, and extortion to murder. To my surprise Renegade was a female disguised as a guy. Her name was Alexis Ames. The rap sheets were the same as the others. Rowdy real name was Rodney Pratt and Patch real name was Patrick Metz. All were killed during the Serjio and Ruggiero war. Trace real name Trent McClure who disappeared on the same night as Clair did. Never to be heard from or seen again. His where abouts were unknown. Judge Lucas told me to take the files for he doesn’t need them anymore. I thank him and then I left. I called my Uncle Rafael. He agreed to meet me at his house in twenty minutes. Slowly the truth of the disappearance is coming out.
CHAPTER VI
I arrived at my Uncle Rafael and Aunt Ruby’s house. Aunt Ruby was mom’s sister and owned the local beauty shop. My Uncle Rafael motioned for me to come to the rear patio. A pitcher of ice tea and glasses were on the table. He poured each of us a glass. I told him about the case I was working on, mentioning names to see if he knew anything about it. Sipping his ice tea he said,” Trent McClure was the uncover FBI agent and I was his contact person. He took Clair from the hospital that night. They met a US Marshall at the county line with Sky and Carrie. Byron was in Sky’s car. They put them in the station wagon with blankets for them to lie on. The US Marshall gave them new identifications. Trent told them had a safe place for them to go too. Sky, Carrie, Clair, and Trent deaths were faked by a car accident. No one questioned it especially since Byron’s motorcycle was found by the river with his jacket floating in the water. As for their where abouts, your grandmother may have the answer and your father may be able to find their identities given to them that night. The Marshall who helped them passed away.” I finish drinking my ice tea. I knew my next place would be my grandmothers.
I drove down Alder Berry Road to my grandma’s farm. I didn’t know if she knew something about what happen. She retired as the town doctor. I turned left on to a dirt road, crossed a bridge, driving up to a white farm house with light blue trim and shutters. Flowers boxes covered the wrap around porch. Grandma loved her flowers. She was sitting on the porch swing, sipping ice tea, chatting to her best friend Bess, sitting on a chair next to the swing. Both ladies had a zest for life. After I parked my truck, I walked up the three steps with Matti at my side. My grandma and Bess greeted us smiling as grandma asked if I wanted a glass of ice tea in which I said,” yes.” I proceed to tell her about the case I was working on and if she had any information about Byron and Clair that could help. I sat down beside her when she told me she had some information that may help. Bess quietly left for she was rattled. I could tell by the way she walked something was wrong. A secret between friends were coming to light.
Grandma motioned for me to follow her inside. We walked into the living room. She softly said,” I have a box to show you.” She walked up the stairs to the attic. I looked at the family photos. My grandfather was tall, broad shouldered with bronze skin from to many hours in the sun working the farm by day and the steel factory at night.
A gentle giant who took time out for his family. They raised six children, five girls and a boy. All were married and had successful careers. Grandma worked as a nurse to becoming the town doctor. Sunday’s after church was a picnic and a game of baseball. Looking at the photos hanging on the wall and on the wide mantel fireplace one would see a happy family celebrating birthdays, graduations to holidays. Grandma returned to the living room carrying a box. She placed it on the coffee table as she sat down on the sofa. I sat down beside her.
She opened the box, revealing black and white pictures of the past she kept hidden. She showed me a picture of Byron on his motorcycle. A dozen pictures of them doing different events from picnics to sitting on the motorcycle to swinging on the swing under the oak tree. The two of them horseback riding with Sky and Carrie. She softly said,” I loved him more than life itself. He loved me, too. We couldn’t imagine life without each other.” Pausing for
a moment she removed an envelope. She removed the paper. She kept their marriage license. She showed it to me. She said,” We were married on Oct. 08, 1949 out of state. We lied about our ages. No questions asked, the justice of the peace married us. We would go for rides on the bike with no particular destination, just ride. I wrap my arms around him and for a little while we had happiness. His father was a mean, vicious, man who hated my family and I. Clair welcomed me with open arms. She planned a wedding after we graduated from high school in June of 1950. Only a select few knew we were married. I was scared to death to tell my parents. I remember when I was with child I had to tell my mother, but didn’t tell her Byron was my husband, only the father. By now trouble between the families were getting worse. I told Byron and Clair I was with child. Clair immediately wanted the wedding. She told Byron’s father Heath who forbid it. I remember that stormy night. Everything went wrong. I lost Byron forever. He wrecked his bike that night. His jacket was found floating in the river the next morning.” A brief moment of silence as the painful memory played in her mind. Her heart shattered into million pieces. Tears wouldn’t stop flowing for days. She locked herself in the bedroom, refusing to come out. She softly said,” We had planned to go to Montana where Clair’s parents had a ranch. There we could have a life. Those plans died with Byron. Being with child and no husband, my father, your great grandfather’s farm hand, Robert Panache asked for my hand in marriage. My parents liked Robert. They were surprise by his kind gesture. We were married two days before my babies were born. Robert was a good husband and father.
In time I grew to love him.” I gently ask,” Would you know where in Montana?” She looked at me perplexed. She answered,” No, why?” I didn’t want to tell her Byron may be in Montana, until I knew for certain he was alive. I didn’t want to disappoint her. I cautiously replied,” No reason, just curious. Perhaps you should tell mom and Uncle Gerald about Byron.” Not saying a word she put the pictures and marriage license in the box. She was thinking about my suggestion telling mom and Gerald. I gave grandma a hug as I softly said,” I thank you for sharing your life with me. It was a great help to my case. I am sorry for any hurt I may have caused you.” The hurt she must have felt is something I could only imagined. She squeezed my hand, smiling, she said,” It’s okay, Robbi. Did my life story really help you?” I answered,” Yes, grandma, it did.” I kissed her forehead as I said,” Goodbye and talk to you soon.” I left the farm with renew hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, Byron is alive in Montana. The thought of the two of them reuniting was indeed a glorious feeling I had. I believed it would heal the hurt I saw in my grandmother’s eyes.
When I returned to the station, the desk sergeant gave a message my father needed to see me at his office. Before leaving, I gave Capt. Gordon an update on the case. She seemed pleased retired Sheriff Randal Augustine was helping me to solve the case. I told her I am close to solving it.
Shortly thereafter, I walked into my father’s office, US Marshall Waylon Colter. He had a large box and file folder on his desk. He smiled at me as he stood up. He opened the box by removing the lid. He said,” Robbi, I have some information in regards to your case.” Pausing for a moment to open the file, he continued speaking,” Marshall Dillon Dalton met FBI agent Trent McClure at the county line. He gave the following identities, Clair Sander became Amelia Shelton, Byron is Shane Shelton, Sky and Carrie became Seth and Elizabeth Riley and Trent McClure is Dusty Shelton. He didn’t write down their location. Corruption was rampant then. I thought we look in the evidence box collected at the scene of his death. He died under strange circumstances.” I asked for the crime scene photos. He removed them from the file folder. I laid the photos on the table. Carefully I looked at each one. He died the same way as Grace Pike. The scene was similar to hers except for the clothes. I told my dad about Grace Pike. He quickly telephoned Doctor Rayne Cora, specialist in forensic science. My dad said,” She can find a poison better than anyone I know.” In a few minutes she walked into Waylon’s office.
A petite older woman, wore her gray hair in a braid, looked at the photos. We told her about Marshall Dalton and Grace Pike’s death was similar. Her green eyes looked at us as she asked about the medical examiner’s report. Waylon gave her the report on Marshal Dalton. I called Randal to bring Grace Pike’s report to US Marshal Waylon Colter’s office. Doctor Cora sat down at the table reading the report. Waylon started to remove items from the box. I noticed something wrapped in a white paper butchers use to wrap meat in. Carefully we opened the paper. A revolver was in it. Waylon said,” This is odd,” as he looked at the list with Marshal Dalton’s pistol numbers. In the box was the service revolver in its holster matching the numbers on the list. Randal arrived with Grace’s Pike file. I introduced my dad to Randal. They shooked hands. I pass the file to Doctor Cora. Randal looked at the revolver on the paper. He said,” The revolver looks like the one police and the sheriff department was issued at one time.” In a curious voice, Waylon responded by saying,” Really?” Suddenly an idea came to Waylon. He called Doctor Bordou to his office. Before Doctor Bordou arrived, Doctor Cora said,” Both victims died of cyanide poisoning. The almond scent and the pink/red color on the victims noted by Doctor Weaver. Nothing conclusive without further testing. But I have a hunch that’s what it was. Do you have anything I can test?” Waylon removed a bag of clothing from the box. Randal replied,” I do believe the clothes Grace Pike was wearing is still in the evidence room in a box. I’ll go get it with Robbi’s help.” She took the bag of clothes from Waylon. She instructed us to bring what we had to her office down the hall on the right. Doctor Bordou walked in. Waylon gave him the revolver with the instructions the results would go to me. He nodded in agreement. He left to run tests on it. I said,” I thank you for your help. I have one favor to ask of you. Do you know anything about Dakota Janice, the public defender for PI Jerry Lyle?” Putting the lid on the box, Waylon said,” I ‘ll do some checking If anything comes up, I’ll call you.” I replied,” Oh, one more thing, would anyone know Clair Sander’s maiden name?” Randal had a curious expression on his face. Both men in unison answered,” Don’t know.” Not saying another word, Randal and I went to the evidence room located in the police station.
Once we started looking, we decided to include those who was involved in the court house. One by one each box was verified by the evidence room sergeant, a middle aged man with a neatly trimmed mustache.
In the 38 years he worked this room, not one time did the boxes leave the room or was off the shelves by anyone. He was a bit surprise by our request of names. Quizzically he asked,” Tell me, Detective Colter, are you closing in on the suspect who did these crimes?” I replied,” Soon Sergeant, very soon, I’ll have someone in custody.” Randal looked at the contents in the boxes. Everything was there. He remembered that horrible day as though it happen yesterday. In his mind, he hoped I was right about having a suspect. We took the boxes to my truck. When we arrived at Doctor Cora’s office, the boxes were given to her to examine the contents. Doctor Bordou came in to assist. Suddenly to solve a case fifty years old became an interest to everyone. I received a message from my dad to return to his office. He had information I needed to see.
Randal and I walked into my dad’s office. Waylon handed me a file to read. Dakota Janice, the nephew of Tomas Ruggiero, Don of Ruggiero crime family. His sister, Katherine married Mark Janice an investment banker. She was not a part of the Ruggiero crimes. She led a clean life. She made certain her sons kept away from the criminal activities her brother participated in. She did not want that kind of life. Dakota came to Silver Springs to start a life for himself by opening up a law practice of his own. His parents were helping him to achieve that goal. The very thing they were afraid was going to happen in New York occurred here. They sent him here to be safe. Once Tomas was informed of what happen to his nephew, he wanted revenge. Serjio and Sander were blamed for the death. Bullets riddled Silver Springs for three days and nights. No one was safe. Serjio f
elt the bullets hitting his body. He could feel life flowing from him. Lying on the floor beside him was one of his men, dead from a gunshot wound to the chest.
I paused for a minute to sit down at the table to continue reading the notes and transcripts of what transpired of the three days. State police Detective Rollins interviewed Katherine and Mark Janice when they came to Silver Springs to claim their son’s body. She was an average height and build with black hair pulled back by a hair comb. Her brown eyes were blood shot from the tears she cried. Her husband, Mark was tall and Lean with dark hair and eyes. Their youngest son Ross, Dakota’s brother, had just finished law school. The two brothers were going to practice law together. Ross had a shocked expression on his face. Sadness and the hurt they felt could be clearly seen on their faces. Upon seeing Dakota in the morgue, Katherine collapsed against her husband, Mark. He held her tight as the tears flowed from his eyes. They signed the papers to release his body. They requested to have his body sent to a funeral parlor in New York. He’ll be laid to rest by his grandparents. Detective Rollins concluded they did not know who would want to hurt their son nor did Dakota to their knowledge have enemies. They described him as a good person and respected by all who knew him. The Janice’s were cleared of the shooting that took place after their son’s death. They insisted it was not them who told Tomas about Dakota’s death. Tomas told them before they received the telephone call from the police. The question of who told Tomas Ruggiero about his nephew that may have caused an all-out war of revenge remained unanswered. They left to prepare a funeral for their beloved son.
CHAPTER VII
State police crime scene unit, FBI, Marshals, local police and the sheriff department was going in different directions to curtail the bloodshed. The body count on both sides was mounting. Strange disappearances of those who were arrested started to occur. They were either found dead or nowhere to be seen again. Traces of their whereabouts vanished. Some evidence collected wasn’t turned in. Mayor Cecil Brant was indicted for bribery and embezzlement. Mayor Brant was middle aged white haired, chubby man with dark hair and beady eyes. His wife Alli, was mortified by the charges. She was a full figured woman who raised their four children. She did her best to be a good house wife by joining her husband at various events. She was not aware of her husband’s meetings at Heath Sander’s place on Alder Berry Road. Thorough the course of the investigations it was discovered, Cecil Brant was taking bribes from both Serjio and Ruggiero intertwined with embezzling money from the town funds. He came very close to bankrupting the town. Alli immediately filed for divorce. To save his family from further disgrace Cecil Brant pleaded guilty to all charges. Once the divorce was finalized, Alli left town, never to be seen or heard from again. I stopped reading to ask Randal if Cecil Brant was in the books. He told me Cecil was in several. I told Waylon about what I found at the mansion. Randal and I decided to turn everything over to Captain Gordon.