All In A Day's Work

by Gary Resnikoff

  “Damn, I do have a temper, don’t I?” joked Jackson.

  “You think?” answered George. Then, he got serious. “You know, I can fight my own battles.”

  “I know. But with all the shit going on, I just lost it. And you have to admit; he deserved it.”

  George agreed. “But, geez, Bob, don’t you think you have enough on your plate right now? You don’t need any more bad publicity.”

  Then, Jackson started laughing again. “Did you see the look on his face when his ass hit the ground?”

  “Bob, get a grip.”

  “Okay. Okay. I know you’re right. It’s funny. Remember when I used to say any publicity was good publicity?”

  “Yes, I remember. But Bob, lately, it’s all bad publicity. Look. I know this whole thing is eating away at you, but I believe the police will track down the killers soon. I have to believe that. You have to have faith in them.” George wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Jackson or himself. “When they find them, this will all blow over and everything will return to normal.”

  “I’m not too sure about that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Even if they do catch the killers, I’m amazed at how quickly everyone turned on me. The press, the public, the police, and even Jay. I’m like a pariah now. I’m a fucking black sheep in this town.”

  “It’ll pass.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Jackson wasn’t convinced. Probably the worst thing for him was how quickly everyone in Denver had seemed to turn against him. He loved this town. Or used to. For all the good he had done, and all the consumers he had fought for, none of it mattered. It was true what they said; all that matters in people’s minds is, what have you done for me lately?

  “You still hungry?” asked George.

  “I guess I am.”

  “You think you can stay out of trouble long enough for me to drive through for some fast food? We can eat at your house, where it’s safe.”

  “Okay. We’ll have to eat around the mess the cops left after the search,” he said wistfully.

  “You never told me; did they find anything?” As soon as he asked the question, he realized it was a mistake. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “No problem. As far as I know, just an old bottle of Trazadone. I wish I had dumped it months ago. From what I can tell, Detective Baird thinks that’s enough to charge me, but they didn’t. That guy has it in for me. It’s like he has some grudge against me or something.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Rumor grows as it goes.”

  —Virgil

  “Hello, Denver. You’re listening to Talk About Denver on KCCR; 675 on your radio dial. I’m Red Sloan, and I want to thank you for joining us today. We’ve got a beautiful day in the Mile-High City. Thank God, it’s Friday. Normally, that’s a good thing for most of us, but I just heard that Bob Jackson has been taken off the air over at KRNC. This can’t be a good day for him. There’s been quite a bit of talk in the press and on the radio lately about the Consumer Champion show. Specifically, how does a show like that contribute to the violence that has been taking place in our fair city? I want to get your opinions. On our show today, we have Justin McGraw, a reporter for the Chronicle. Justin has been writing about the case and obviously has some great insights. Thanks for coming on the show, Justin. I’d like to start the discussion by asking Justin to give us the facts about the case.”

  “Thanks for having me on the show, Red. The police don’t know much and are telling us even less. What I can tell you is that the police suspect it is a man and a woman. The killers leave notes at each murder scene and are calling themselves ‘the Revengers’ And, as you have noted on your show, so far, all the victims have been local contractors.”

  “Has it been confirmed that all the victims were subjects of discussion on the Consumer Champion show?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Hence, the backlash against Bob Jackson and his show.”

  “It seems everyone is trying to make that connection, but let me also add that my research shows all the victims also have numerous complaints filed against them with the Chamber of Commerce and the Better Business Bureau.”

  “But everyone seems to think there is a link of some kind between the murders and the Consumer show.”

  “Not sure if that is true, but with all the hype lately, the station did pull the show. My sources tell me it’s because advertisers were pulling ads, but I also know that the station got a ton of pressure from city leaders to take him off the air.”

  “You sound like you don’t agree with that move.”

  “I’m not sure. I do think there is more to this case then meets the eye. I won’t go into detail at this time, but I’m researching ties between some city leaders and the first victim.”

  “Sure you won’t share with us?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I heard rumors that people were suing the Bob Jackson and the radio station for wrongful death.”

  “I’ve heard the same rumors, Red, but I think they are just clickbait on the internet.”

  “Would they be justified?”

  “I’m not an attorney, but my personal opinion, for what it’s worth, is no. I have spoken to some of the victims’ families, and no one mentioned anything about that.”

  “So, back to the police and your sources. Do they have any hard evidence linking the murders to anyone?”

  “If they do, they aren’t sharing it with me. I do have it on good authority, though, that they just searched Bob Jackson’s home. He was questioned again, but at this time, no arrests have been made. I don’t know what they found at his home, if anything.”

  “What can you tell us about these notes they leave behind? You’ve seen them, correct?”

  “No, I haven’t. The police are only giving the press an indication of what is in the notes, but they’re not allowing us to see the actual notes.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Prevents copycats and false confessions.”

  “I see. They are warnings. Correct?”

  “They are. Essentially, telling other Denver contractors to stop ripping people off or risk becoming one of their victims.”

  “So, they really are vigilante killers?”

  “It seems they want us to think that.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I’m trying to report with an open mind. Right now, they are targeting businessmen with sketchy reputations. We’ll have to wait and see if it stays that way.”

  “Do you think shutting down the Consumer Champion show will put an end to the murders?”

  “That’s a tough question. If the killers are really some crazy vigilantes, hell-bent on killing contractors, there are plenty of other ways to find targets. I’m not an expert on serial killers. I think shutting down the show only protects the station. If the Revengers really are what they say they are, then they won’t stop until they’re caught.”

  “Let’s take some calls from our audience. Dick in Denver, what do you think?”

  “I think Bob Jackson was very abrasive on the air. He was very opinionated and would openly castigate anyone whom he disagreed with. It almost felt like he encouraged someone to go after these contractors.”

  “But people seemed to love it. His show was always top-rated in his time slot. And didn’t he help lots of people resolve problems?”

  “I suppose so. But the abrasive nature probably emboldened someone to take things to a new and higher level.”

  “From what I know,” said Justin, “the killers never actually mentioned Bob or his show. Just because the victims were on his show doesn’t mean he had anything to do with it. These people could have just as easily found targets by going to the Better Business Bureau and hitting anyone with a low rating.”

  “But they didn’t, did they?” replied the caller. “Seems suspicious to me that all the victims were on his show. Personally, I think he should be held responsible in some way. He
gets people fired up to the point where they hate the contractors. You can’t get people all emotional and then just walk away.”

  “Dick, Bob helped a lot of people over the years. Isn’t that worth something?”

  “Doesn’t excuse his behavior. He constantly railed on about how the world would be a better place without these ‘scum’, as he called them. A fanatic might take that as a directive.”

  “Interesting,” said Red. “Justin, you’re in the media. Do you think shows like this should be banned?”

  “I believe in free speech. I don’t have a problem with Bob or his style. If we hold him responsible for these deaths, then almost any show or article in the press would be at risk. I believe there are lunatics out there, and we can’t protect against everything, and we certainly don’t want to curtail free speech.”

  “Even if we find out that his show was responsible in some way for these murders?”

  “As long as he didn’t actually tell someone to kill them or do it himself, I stand by my statement. We are always looking to blame someone. Always looking to sue. If someone reads a book about a murder and decides to kill someone using the same method, is the author responsible? Do we really want to go down that road? Not me.”

  “Sounds like you are defending your profession as much as you are defending Bob Jackson.”

  “Is that wrong?”

  Red took a few more calls, and it was clear that most people had turned on the show and its host, Bob Jackson. Caller after caller accused Jackson of fomenting hate, and his bombastic style turned people against businesses that might have made an honest mistake. Defenders of free speech were few and far between, and although they wanted free speech for themselves, they felt that Jackson often went too far. Public safety overruled free speech. Freedom was all well and good—until someone got hurt. Some callers even went so far as to call Jackson “a self-proclaimed Robin Hood” who had “gone off the deep end”. More than one caller used the term “lock him up”. Then, someone broached the subject of all the recent bar fights that Jackson was involved in. “Only someone who was unhinged would do such things,” they said. He had become “a menace to society”.

  But Justin McGraw tried to come to his defense.

  “What I find fascinating,” said Justin, “is how quickly we can go from hero to scapegoat. Almost like we are primed and ready to pounce when our celebrities stumble, and we seem to want them to fall.”

  “I would hardly call being accused of murder a ‘stumble’,” replied Red.

  “Only the court of public opinion seems to have charged him with a crime. The police haven’t accused him of anything at this time,” Justin corrected him.

  “Might just be a matter of time.”

  Justin regretted agreeing to come on the show.

  The next caller gave a different story about Jackson. To him, Jackson was a tireless and selfless hero. He had seen him at numerous fundraisers and charity events, giving generously and asking for nothing in return. His tireless work had saved hundreds of people thousands—maybe even millions—of dollars over the years. With consistent, spot-on advice, how was it even possible that he was now the subject of such derision? His contention was that Jackson was the scapegoat now and would suffer tremendously, but eventually, Denver would realize what they had lost by turning on him. It was the fault of the press and the talk shows, he went on to say. They beat a dead horse with their 24/7 sensationalist coverage that stirred everyone into a frenzy, all for higher ratings and money. He suggested that Jackson would be vindicated, and he had no doubt about his innocence.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Suspicions that the mind of itself gathers are but buzzes, but suspicions that are artificially nourished and put into men's heads by the tales and whisperings of others have stings.”

  —Sir Francis Bacon

  Jackson was up before the sun rose and already packing a few items for his trip to his mountain cabin. He was going over his plan to locate a witness who could place him in the mountains during one of the murders when the doorbell rang. The sound of the bell startled him. Worried that there might be a process server or some police official coming around about his fight at the bar yesterday afternoon, he padded over to the door. He could see Detective Baird standing on his front porch. He opened the door slowly, his heart racing a thousand beats a minute.

  “Good morning, Bob,” said Detective Baird with a large grin. “You don’t mind me calling you Bob, do you?” The detective was alone. Jackson didn’t think he would be there to charge him for a crime without backup. But he was still concerned.

  “Actually, I would prefer you call me Mr. Jackson,” he responded curtly. “What do you want?”

  “Just a word or two,” said the detective, still smiling. “Can I come in?”

  “No! It’s pretty early for a social call.”

  “Mr. Jackson, do you want the neighbors watching—and maybe listening?”

  “You were here yesterday. You searched my home, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. I have no intention of repeating that. And my attorney said he should be present if I was questioned again.”

  “Well, not to worry. I’m not here to search your house or to arrest you. I just want to talk.”

  “Fine. Come in,” said Jackson, but he stopped him in the foyer. “We can talk here.”

  The detective looked past him into a messy living room. “I see you haven’t cleaned up after the search. Sorry about the mess. The guys aren’t very polite during a search.”

  “Get to the point,” replied Jackson, not trying to disguise his impatience. “What do you want?”

  “How about a cup of coffee? We can sit and have a nice chat.”

  “No. Say what’s on your mind and leave.”

  “A little testy this morning. I guess beating the shit out of guy in a bar will do that to you. I heard about it, but I’m not here about that incident. I heard you were taken off the air.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “That’s rough. But you have to admit, with all that is going on, it makes sense.”

  “I didn’t commit the murders.”

  “Evidence is piling up to suggest you did—or, at the very least, that your show is responsible.”

  “The evidence is wrong.”

  Baird looked around, focusing on some nice artwork. “You’ve done all right for yourself over the years.”

  “I’ve done okay,” Jackson replied suspiciously, wondering if the detective was here for a bribe. “What do you want, Detective?”

  “I’m just here to talk. I want to help you if I can. There’s a lot of evidence that points to you, but some things just don’t fit. Yet.”

  “And?” Jackson tried to control his emotions, but he was barely hanging on.

  “Here’s the thing: All the murder notes sound just like you. I’ve been listening to your show. The choice of words in the notes, the general tone. It all sounds like you. Then, there is the problem of the notes themselves. All printed on printers just like the ones you have at your office. Even the same brand of paper. You know, forensics being what it is these days, we can actually pin that down. Then, I found Trazadone in your house. The murderers used Trazadone to sedate the first victim. And, isn’t it convenient that you don’t have an alibi for any of the murders?”

  Jackson started to reply, but the detective held up his hand and stopped him. “Now, Bob—oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Jackson—don’t get me wrong. I like you.”

  Jackson wondered what alternate universe he was in.

  “I think you are getting a raw deal. Things aren’t looking real good for you right now, but I believe you when you say you didn’t do it. My problem is the evidence.”

  “If the evidence points to me, it’s wrong. I think someone is trying to frame me.”

  “We hear that a lot in the police business.”

  “It’s true. I don’t know why or who, but someone is trying to make it look like I did this.”

  “Well, Mr. Jack
son, unless you can come up with a solid alibi, I think the chief is going to want to charge you.”

  “I’ve got an alibi. I told you. I saw someone up at the lake who can place me there during one of the murders.”

  “Yes, you did. Can you give me his name or where he lives? If you can give me an accurate description, I can track him down for you.”

  “I told you guys yesterday, I don’t know who he is. He looks like a bunch of people up there. Grey hair, medium build. White guy.”

  “That doesn’t help much.”

  “I’ll find him. I’m going up to the cabin this afternoon to track him down.”

  “Perfect. Here’s my card. The minute you find him, call me. I’ll come up there and get his statement. With that in hand, we should be able to clear you.”

  Jackson took the card but eyed the detective suspiciously. Something wasn’t right about him. Jackson couldn’t put his finger on it. One day, the detective wanted him behind bars, and the next day, he was chumming up to him, trying to help clear his name. What had changed? Even though he didn’t entirely trust the detective’s motives, he would call him once he had secured his alibi. He had to. If he could clear his name, maybe things could go back to normal for him.

  “Okay. I’ll call you. I want this whole affair behind me.”

  “I understand. Find your witness. And remember: Call me ASAP. If someone is really framing you, your witness may be in danger.”

  “I didn’t think of that.”

  “That’s why I need to get up there and get his statement on record.”

  “Once I find the guy, what happens next?”

  “We keep looking for the killers. Maybe we will focus on someone who feels like you ruined their life. I’ve heard there are quite a few people who feel you didn’t do right by them.”

  “I can’t believe I could have hurt anyone so badly that they would kill people and try to frame me for it.”

  “But you have hurt a lot of people.”