by Gary C. King
"Do you mind if I look in the trash cans?" Turner prompted.
"No. Go ahead. Search the place if you want to. Search my truck. You want me to go with you? Say so."
Having obtained Dayton's permission, Turner checked each of the trash cans inside the shop. All except for the one in the sink area were completely empty, devoid of any material whatsoever. But the trash can in the sink area contained several wrappers from Curad brand adhesive bandages. Turner guessed that the wrappers were from the bandages on Dayton's right hand. On his way back to where Dayton was standing, Turner noticed a blood smear on the bathroom door directly above the doorknob. He kept the observation to himself.
"You say you cut yourself with a hacksaw," said Turner, his eyes now boring right through his suspect. "But I can't find any blood on the toolbox, the hacksaw, the vise, or anywhere on the floor where you say you were standing when you cut yourself. Where did you say you were standing when you cut your hand?"
"You're there."
"You know, I couldn't find any of those liquor bottles, either. Where did you say you put them?"
Dayton didn't answer now. He only stared at Turner with eyes that had now become angry.
"Your explanations just aren't making any sense."
Dayton, his eyes glaring more than ever, once again stated in monotones: "Search the place. Search my truck. You want me to go with you? Say so."
Turner told Dayton that it wasn't necessary yet. He then explained that a witness was on his way to Woodburn to look at the truck. He said the witness had observed Dayton's blue Datsun fleeing the scene of the crime.
"Well, then, I want to talk to an attorney."
At 5:42 A.M. Turner, not wanting to face any legal technicalities later, advised Dayton Leroy Rogers of his rights under Miranda.
"Do you understand these rights?"
"Yeah. I've been through the system before." Dayton asked Turner if he wanted him to furnish fingerprints.
"I would appreciate it."
"Am I under arrest?"
"No. Not at this time." Turner informed him that after the witness had viewed his truck, they would take him to the sheriff's office to get a photo of him as well as his fingerprints. Since Dayton had indicated that he was invoking his rights, Turner didn't ask him any further questions.
Dayton, however, asked the detective if he could set up business for the day. When Turner told him that he had no objections, Dayton turned and walked into his office. Turner stayed close by and watched as Dayton opened the top drawer of a filing cabinet. He reached inside with his right hand, the one that had been injured, and pulled out a money bag. He then left the office and went to the cash register behind the counter. Moving from left to right, he very methodically placed currency and change into the cash drawer, again using his right hand.
Left-handed my ass, Turner thought to himself.
"Do you mind if I call my wife?" Dayton asked Turner as he closed the cash drawer.
"I don't care who you call." Turner listened as Dayton spoke on the telephone, supposedly with his wife, discussing business matters and making arrangements for someone to open the shop. At 6:10 A.M. he placed another call and talked uninterrupted for the better part of the next hour.
At 6:45 A.M., while Dayton was still on the phone, Deputy Peter Tutmark arrived from the crime scene with witness Richard Bergio. Following close behind, representing Clackamas County District Attorney James O'Leary, were Deputy District Attorney Andrejs "Andy" Eglitis and Investigator Tom Kusturin. Tutmark and Turner led Bergio to Dayton's pickup and simultaneously briefed Eglitis and Kusturin on what was so far known about the case.
"Is this the vehicle you followed out of the Denny's parking lot earlier this morning?" asked Turner.
"That's the one," Bergio said without hesitation. "If you want to be sure, turn on the headlights. It doesn't have any license plate lights."
Turner went to the truck and reached inside. He pulled the headlights switch into the on position. Sure enough, when he walked to the rear of the pickup, he saw that there was no illumination at all coming from the license plate light fixtures.
"Do you have any doubt whatsoever about this being the vehicle you followed earlier?" asked Turner.
"No. That's the one."
In preparation to having Dayton's pickup towed to a place for safekeeping, Turner opened the passenger door to check for items of value, having already obtained Dayton's consent to do so, and to make an inventory of any items found. He noticed at that time a cut in the passenger door panel, and blood on the back edge of the passenger door. But whose blood was it?
Turner reentered the workshop and motioned to Dayton, who was still talking on the telephone, and indicated that he wanted to talk to him. After putting the person on the other end of the line on hold, Dayton walked over to where Turner was standing, near the front entrance. Turner promptly confronted him with the fact that his pickup truck had been positively identified as the one that left the scene of the murder. There was no longer any doubt, he told him.
"I've got nothing to say," Dayton responded.
After conferring briefly with Lieutenant Detloff, Turner faced Dayton and in an official tone announced that he was under arrest for the murder of the nude victim, called "Jane Doe" for lack of her identification. Turner permitted Dayton to finish his phone call, then fastened a pair of handcuffs around Dayton's wrists, again advising him of his Miranda rights. Dayton Leroy Rogers was then promptly transported and booked into the Clackamas County Jail in Oregon City.
Later that morning when Turner checked in at his office, crime analyst Deputy Dave Broom-field, the department's computer-buff-turned-expert, handed Turner a computer printout. As Turner quickly scanned the multi-sheet document, he saw that Dayton Leroy Rogers was no stranger to law enforcement in the state of Oregon. He had been in trouble several times and had faced some very serious charges that had involved violent sexual attacks and a nearly fatal stabbing.
Although his rap sheet was extensive, it didn't include the kind of detail that Turner knew he would need in building a strong case against Dayton. Due to his suspect's lengthy criminal record, Turner also knew that a wealth of background information must exist within the files of various city, county, and state agencies. He would have to contact a number of agencies to get the information he needed, and that would take time.
Chapter 4
Shortly after 8 A.M., Detective Mark White was advised to report to the jail to provide assistance to Detective Turner. He brought along his 35mm camera, since it would be his job to obtain additional photographs of an evidentiary nature. After Dayton was properly booked, Turner turned over to White a pair of blue work coveralls, Golden Retriever brand brown work boots, a brown belt, a white T-shirt a pair of blue Levi's pants, one pair of black socks, one pair of men's blue underpants, and a key ring that held the Nissan's keys and several others, presumably keys to Dayton's shop and home. The key ring also held a long, black swivel hook made of plastic. All of the items had been seized from Dayton at the jail at the time of his booking and had been bagged separately.
Dayton, now dressed in jail blues, was brought into the jail infirmary. As Detective White prepared his camera for photographs, he observed the bandages on Dayton's right hand. Dayton, waiting patiently for everyone to finish their jobs, appeared sullen and quiet. Clackamas County Jail Head Nurse Phyllis Flowers, a tough-talking, abrasive woman that the other jail nurses feared and respected, recommended that Dayton's bandages be removed to determine if his wounds required sutures. Dayton wasn't about to argue with her. He carefully removed the bandages, which he placed inside an otherwise empty garbage can.
There appeared to be two cuts, noted White and Nurse Flowers, one between the small finger and another on the palm, near the finger next to the small one. The cut on the palm ran at an angle of approximately forty-five degrees to the lengthwise line of the finger and extended upward about a quarter to a half inch. The other cut ran lengthwise along the inside of the small finge
r. Both cuts appeared straight, not jagged. The cut on the palm seemed to be closed, while the one nearest the small finger looked quite deep and was, in fact, still open.
Dayton, White noticed, also had an abrasion or scratch on the underside of his right elbow, and a scratch on the outside of his left forearm. He took photographs of all of Dayton's injuries, then seized the bandages containing dried blood from the trash can. Afterward, Nurse Flowers recommended that Dayton be taken to Willamette Falls Hospital for examination of his hand wounds.
Deputies John Mills and John Naab transported Dayton, accompanied by Detective White, to the hospital's emergency room. Upon their arrival, Mills began taking detailed notes of everything Dayton said to the hospital staff during the intake process.
"Where did you cut it?" asked an admitting attendant.
"At my shop," responded Dayton.
"What cut it?"
"Metal."
After being properly admitted, Dayton was taken into the emergency room where a technician asked him additional questions.
"When did this happen?"
"Yesterday."
"What time?"
"Ten-thirty."
"At night?"
"Yeah."
The room was silent as the technician examined the wounds.
"When did you say this happened?"
"Last night, I imagine about one to three o'clock in the morning. I worked all night." Mills caught the time discrepancy and noted it for his report.
"Are you taking any medications?"
"No."
A few minutes later, Dr. Ann Brown came into the emergency room examining room and began treating Dayton's wounds. As she cleaned the injuries and applied medication, she asked him some additional questions.
"What happened this morning?"
"I cut myself with a hacksaw blade. I had it in a vise."
"When did it happen?"
"About one or two in the morning."
"How did you get a hacksaw blade in there?" asked the doctor, motioning to the area between Dayton's little finger and the ring finger of his right hand.
"I was holding it and it slipped." He explained that he was left-handed and was holding the hacksaw with his left hand when it rammed the base of his fifth finger. When he attempted to move his hand away, he cut the surface of his fifth finger.
Given the lapse of time between when the injury occurred and when Dayton arrived at the hospital, Dr. Brown elected not to suture the wounds. Instead, she irrigated the lacerations with normal saline, cleansed the affected skin with Betadine, then applied an antibiotic ointment and dry dressing. She affixed a volar splint to his injured small finger. When the doctor was finished, Deputy Naab swabbed Dayton's hands with gauze pads saturated with saline solution to remove trace elements, such as dried blood. Afterward the gauze pads were placed in separate brown paper bags.
It had been Detective White's intention to obtain fingernail scrapings from Dayton. However, Dayton's fingernails had been bitten off to the quick. There simply was not enough fingernail present on any finger for anything to become trapped beneath, and he was unable to obtain the scrapings. Dayton mockingly told him that he bites his nails.
Later that morning, John Turner followed up Dayton's supervised visit to the hospital. When he asked the doctor if Dayton's injuries could have been caused by a hacksaw blade, he was told that it was highly unlikely. If his hand had been cut with a serrated blade such as that of a hacksaw, said the doctor, his wounds would have been jagged and uneven. Instead, Dayton's wounds were smooth and clean, as if they had been caused by a knife blade. It was precisely what Turner had wanted to hear.
As the morning wore on and Detective Jim Strovink continued his interviews of the Denny's witnesses, Detective Michael J. Machado entered the case. He had been notified of the brutal murder while still at home and was advised to report to the crime scene instead of going to the office that morning. Although he would eventually become Turner's partner as the investigation continued to mushroom, he was initially assigned to assist Strovink with the questioning.
Upon his arrival, he met briefly with Strovink, who told him that Deputy Randy Barry had the name and address of a witness, Michael Fielding, thirty-two, who had obtained a good look at the suspect separate and apart from the Denny's witnesses. Machado proceeded to an apartment complex at 16350 S.E. Vineyard Lane, located directly behind the GMAC building.
It was 8:45 A.M. when Machado rang the bell at Fielding's town house apartment. Fielding, expecting the detective, led him inside and showed him around to give him a feel of the apartment's layout. The downstairs area consisted of the living room and kitchen, and the bedrooms and bathroom were located upstairs. Machado noted that the front of the apartment faced the parking lot and from upstairs provided an unobstructed view of the crime scene.
Fielding explained that he and his roommate left their apartment at about 1:20 A.M. and walked to Stuart Anderson's Cattle Company Restaurant, located just up the street on McLoughlin Boulevard, to have a drink. They arrived there about ten minutes later, where Fielding drank three bottles of beer over the next forty minutes. It was about 2:25 A.M. when they arrived back at their apartment. Fielding went to bed, while his roommate remained downstairs watching television. Fielding maintained that his perception of the events that followed had not been impaired by the beer.
Fielding had only been in bed for about five minutes when he suddenly heard a high-pitched "yeowl," much like the screaming that occurs during a cat fight. The sounds came from the parking lot below, which he at first tried to ignore. But the screaming and yelling continued until finally he heard a "bloodcurdling" scream that he recognized as a human female voice.
After realizing that what he had heard was no cat fight, Fielding said he jumped out of bed and ran to the window. Because the front of the apartment faced to the east, he had covered the window with a sheet of black semi-transparent plastic shortly after he moved in to prevent the morning sun from entering his bedroom. He pulled back a section of the plastic and looked toward Denny's, he said, the direction from which the screams had come. He said the screams continued for two, maybe three minutes.
When he looked out, Fielding said he really didn't know what he expected to see. His first thought had been that the screams were from a drunken girl because he hadn't seen anyone at first. Then he heard a male voice say something like, "Hey, son-of-a-motherfucker," followed by a brief period of silence. Moments later, he heard what sounded like cowboy boots clomping through the parking lot. Suddenly he spotted a man coming around the northwest corner of the GMAC building along the west side of the parking lot. The man was running, and he made a wide turn around the building. As he entered a lighted area, he slowed and looked back, as if to see if anyone was following him. But no one was.
When the man was directly underneath an overhead light, Fielding said he saw a shiny metal object in his right hand. It was pointed away from his body in a relatively straight line forward, only slightly pointed upward. The metal part of the object was about five inches long, and it looked thin. When he focused on it, he could tell that it was a knife. He couldn't, however, see whether there was any blood on it or dripping from the blade.
The man continued running along the west side of the building, heading south. When he reached the southwest corner of the building he turned left, which put him eastbound. Fielding could still see the suspect as he attempted to flee the area by scaling a flight of steps connected to the GMAC building, and at one point he heard metal striking metal. He couldn't tell if the man had attempted to open one of the office building's doors or if the knife in his hand had been striking the railing as he ascended the steps. He continued to watch for a few minutes, he said, but the man never returned. Fielding said he assumed that the man must have jumped over the fence behind the building.
Fielding explained that he quickly pulled on his pants at that point. As he started down the stairs to the living room to inform his roommate about what
he had seen, he heard the sound of tires peeling in gravel. Realizing that a vehicle just passed his apartment at a high rate of speed, he ran back upstairs to his bedroom window in time to see a small pickup "shooting straight through the parking lot towards Denny's."
He described the man as a white male, about thirty years old, maybe 190 to 200 pounds. Although it was difficult to judge the suspect's height from the downward angle from which Fielding was watching him, Fielding said he appeared to be six feet three inches or more and had a slight paunch to his stomach. His hair was dark brown, wavy, and collar-length, possibly a little shorter. The man was wearing brown cowboy boots, a long yellow polo shirt that was not tucked inside his pants. The pants, he said, were blue jeans, and the shirt had standard cut sides. Although he had not seen the man's face straight-on but mostly from a profile angle, Fielding was adamant that he could positively identify the suspect.
During any investigation of great intensity many things, of course, occur simultaneously, often at different locations. While deputies Beckwith and Layng had been at Dayton's residence in Canby interviewing Sherry Rogers, Turner and Detloff were being briefed at the crime scene. At the same time, doctors had worked feverishly at Emanuel Hospital trying to revive Jenny Smith and save her life, but had failed in their efforts. Likewise, while Turner had been arresting Dayton and was having him transported to the Clackamas County Jail, Deputy John Gilliland, the Clackamas County Sheriff's Office criminologist, had arrived at the crime scene shortly after being rousted from his home by Portland police officers and was busy processing it for clues. Because of all the activities happening at once, such cases can quickly become complex. When it comes time to put it all together so that all interested parties can easily visualize and understand what has occurred, police work suddenly becomes an art.
When Turner returned to the crime scene after processing his murder suspect into jail, he was trying to maintain just such a sense of order in his head, an uncanny ability made possible by twenty years of police work. Between taking sketchy notes and reflecting on the morning's events, he had thought initially that he would have the case wrapped up in a couple of days. They had a suspect already in custody, and several eyewitnesses had assured the investigators that they would recognize the man they had seen fleeing the crime scene if they saw him again. With every passing hour, the case that Turner and his colleagues were building against Dayton Leroy Rogers seemed to grow stronger. It looked like it was going to be a piece of cake to clear up, but it wasn't. Not by a long shot.