Double usage

by Christine Bols

  Jude was already at her desk when he came in, studying the VICAP list and taking notes. ‘What are you doing?’ he asked as he threw his jacket over the back of his chair and started his PC.’

  ‘Just looking if there are other similarities besides the modus operandi. I see you highlighted a name here, Jim Lockton. Worth while chasing you think?’

  Tim shook his head thoughtfully. ‘Interrogated twice for two missing person cases but never accused. Maybe we should work on that porter first. Can you find out if he is working today? Meanwhile I’ll have Susan call the FBI to find out more about Lockton. If Foster should decide to call in the high and almighty gang, at least we will have some background information.’

  Jude dialed the number of Albany station. ‘Good morning’, she said in a friendly voice. After introducing herself she asked if it would be possible to talk to Jacob Dawson. ‘Oh, I see, I will call his home number then. Thank you.’

  She put the receiver back and stared at Tim. ‘He is on sick leave, for four weeks already now. What do you think, surprise visit or call him first? We could ask him to the office maybe.’

  ‘No, too official. I only want to present him the pictures and observe his reaction. He shouldn’t feel trapped.’

  A frown appeared on his forehead. ‘Home four weeks already… what a co-incidence. Since the middle of May.’

  He scribbled the address on a notepad: Albany, 330 Oak Street. ‘Isn’t that the street that runs along the Willamette?’

  Jude shrugged her shoulders. ‘Not a clue. I’m afraid my knowledge of Albany doesn’t stretch that far.’

  ‘Sorry, I completely forgot you live in Springfield.’

  ‘Can I take that as a compliment?’ she smiled.

  ‘Whatever’. He couldn’t see the connection, but then, he would never understand the female psyche.

  Dawson’s house was indeed at the end of an unpaved country road, leading up to the Willamette. It was a large house. The front yard was dominated by a white stone eagle with spread wings and was edged by a trimmed hedge. A few colorful bushes completed the picture.

  ‘Rather a big house for a porter’, Jude said as they headed for the front door. ‘Not cheap to maintain either. She pointed to the end of the lane. ‘Look, nice open view on the Willamette.’

  Tim rang the doorbell and half a minute later a bald, pale looking man in his forties opened the door. He looked at them inquisitively.

  ‘Mister Dawson I presume?’ Tim said with a smile. The man nodded. ‘Sackley and McCool Corvallis police. We would like to ask you a few questions.’

  ‘Questions? What about?’ He looked irritated and nervous and he wasn’t planning on letting them in.

  ‘You are a porter at Albany station I believe’. Dawson nodded and waited. Jude took the pictures of Bodini and Fitzpatrick out of her briefcase and held them in front of him.

  ‘You know these women Mr. Dawson?’ Jude asked.

  The man gazed at the pictures. A vein pulsed on his temple. ‘I can’t see without my glasses’, he said.

  ‘Maybe you could get your glasses then. Or maybe its better we come in with you. It’s a bit cool here outside.’

  ‘I’ll go get them, just wait here.’ The man shuffled back in the hall and left them at the doorstep.

  ‘What do you think?’ Tim whispered.

  Jude shrugged her shoulders. ‘I think he knows them. The glasses are just a trick to buy some time.’

  ‘I wonder why he doesn’t let us in. Wonder what it is he has to hide.’

  Dawson was back at the front door and put fine framed glasses on his nose. ‘So, show me these pictures again now.’ Jude held them in front of him, but by now his whole demeanor had changed. Not a sign of nervousness anymore. He shook his head. ‘No, can’t say I ever saw them. I’m sure of it.’ He took off his glasses and stared at them frankly. As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over. He didn’t even ask why he was supposed to know them.

  ‘Yet Mr. Dawson’, Jude said patiently, ‘both women take a train every Saturday morning at Albany station.’

  ‘That could very well be the case, but why should I know them? So many people take a train every day of the week.’

  ‘Come on Dawson’, Tim intervened. ‘Albany is not New York. There are only ten trains on a Saturday, max. There can’t be that many commuters.’

  Dawson crossed his arms in front of his chest and his voice sounded indignant when he said: ‘I just told you I don’t know them, and maybe you guys have time to spy on people, but I don’t when I’m working.’

  Tim looked at him surprised. ‘I can’t remember calling it spying, but I suppose you don’t have your eyes closed while working. So, think again.’

  Dawson kept shaking his head vigorously. The vein on his temple started pulsing again. ‘And if you would leave me to it now, I still got a lot to do.’ As he shut the door, Tim took a step forward. Dawson looked at him furiously.

  Tim sighed. ‘Mr. Dawson’, he said in a polite voice. ‘I really don’t understand this aggression. After all, it’s not a crime to know these women.’

  ‘Two good-looking women even’, Jude added. ‘It would even be odd not to have noticed them. And even on sick leave, you must be a healthy man.’ She gave him a broad smile.

  ‘No’, Dawson said irritated, ‘it wouldn’t be a crime to know them. But when two detectives come knocking on my door and ask questions, crime can’t be far away. What happened to them anyway?’ He nodded his head towards the pictures Jude was still holding in her hand. ‘If you have the nerve to ask me questions, I think I have the right to know.’

  Tim took a step back and gazed at Dawson. ‘They have been found murdered, and I can assure you they didn’t look as nice as in these pictures.’

  Dawson’s face turned all red and his eyes rolled. His brain was doing overtime. ‘And you think I got something to do with that?’ he shouted.

  ‘Did I say that? I don’t think so.’ He looked at Jude. ‘Did I?’ He turned back to Dawson. ‘That’s fine sir, if you don’t know them, you can’t help us, but I would appreciate it if you could come by the office in Corvallis this afternoon to make a statement.’

  ‘Unless you accuse me of something you haven’t got the right’, he snorted.

  ‘We don’t accuse you of anything, we don’t arrest you sir. All I’m doing is ask you in a very friendly way to come by the office. Would two o’clock suit you?’ Tim wanted to get him out of his familiar surroundings before he asked more questions. It was clear that Dawson had something to hide. He would stake his pension the guy knew the women. Since he didn’t get any reaction from Dawson, Tim said: ‘I could send a car for you if that would make things easier.’

  ‘Two o’clock is fine’, Dawson said and he slammed the door in their faces.

  ‘Why are you giving him so much time?’ Jude asked as they went back to the car. ‘If he has incriminating stuff in his house he has more than enough time to get rid of it.’ Tim laughed as he started the car. ‘Sometimes you can be a rookie you know, a good-looking rookie, but a rookie nevertheless.’

  Jude stared out of the car window and said nothing. He knew he had hurt her but he hadn’t meant it that way. He just wanted to be funny, but obviously that hadn’t worked out.

  ‘I’m sorry Jude, I was only joking’, he said apologetically. David had never been this touchy, whatever he said, and he would have laughed about it. ‘The goal is to observe Dawson, see what he does now. Maybe he’ll panic and move stuff out of his house.’ He pointed at a small shed at the end of the road, partially concealed by bushes in front of it. ‘From there we’ll have a perfect view of the drive and the house.’

  For the next hour they only saw a courier deliver a small packet at the door without ringing the bell. Dawson didn’t show himself and as far as they could see through the hedge, there was no activity at all.

  Back at the office Tim called the judge right away and asked for a search warrant. At first reluctant, but when he learne
d Tim only wanted to confiscate Dawson’s PC he granted it. After that he ordered Haynes and Connely to fetch the warrant at half past one. The lock smith would be waiting for them at two o’clock. Without speaking Tim and Jude ate the sandwich they picked up on the way to the office.

  ‘Still upset?’ he asked finally.

  She didn’t look at him. ‘Not upset, just disappointed.’ She took a big bite of her sandwich and swallowed it with coffee. ‘And if you would take the effort to look at my track record in Springfield you would see I’m no rookie. My last case…’

  ‘I don’t need to know your track record Jude. Foster told me you’re the best, and that’s good enough for me. But again, my apologies if I offended you.’

  Finally she looked at him. ‘Fine. I’m not made of sugar, and one offense won’t kill me. But you have to admit boss, the fact that I’m a woman…’

  ‘I told you already what my first impression of you was’, he interrupted. ‘You being a woman has got nothing to do with it. It’s just that I was used to David and it takes a while to adjust. And don’t call me boss, it makes me feel old.’

  She wiped the crumbs of her desk with the side of her hand and threw them in the paper basket. She sighed. ‘Apology accepted.’ Her clear blue eyes twinkled again and he felt a warm sensation in his guts.

  ‘Boss, we’re leaving,’ Susan shouted through the half open door. He still felt thankful towards her that she left him alone after that dreadful night. It seemed as it had never happened, vanished into thin air.

  ‘Fine. Ring his doorbell first, even if his car isn’t there. Make sure he left and bring his PC to the IT-division right away. I told them what we are looking for already. Jude and I will be busy interrogating Dawson, but if IT finds something interesting they have to call me.’

  ‘Good-looking woman’, Jude said as Susan left.

  ‘Hm, not really. You’re much nicer.’

  Why had he said that? He should keep his big mouth shut. He saw a faint smile around her lips.

  A little after two Deborah called him to announce Dawson’s arrival.

  ‘Bring him to room two. We’ll be there in a minute. Did you see what car he came in? Hm, okay.’ Tim put on his jacket and shoved the small recorder in his pocket. ‘You take the file?’ Jude nodded.

  Behind the one way glass they saw Dawson pace up and down. He paused and stared at the mirror. Finally he sat down and crossed his legs while rubbing his hand over his bare skull and looking at his watch. Then he started drumming is fingers on the metal table top.

  ‘Very nervous or not a lot of time’, Tim said.

  ‘The first one I think’.

  ‘Take a chair from the hall, otherwise you’ll have to stand up the whole time.’ Jude did as asked. Dawson looked at them as they came in. He kept a suspicious eye on them while they sat down.

  ‘Good’, Mr. Dawson’, Tim said, friendly. ‘Glad you could come by.’

  ‘Didn’t realize I had a choice,’ he grumbled.

  Tim didn’t react. ‘I’m sure you won’t mind me taping this conversation’, Tim said as he took the recorder out of his pocket and put it between them on the table.

  ‘And what if I do mind?’, Dawson sneered.

  ‘By law it’s mandatory I notify you.’ His answer was beside the point, but Dawson didn’t react. Tim switched it on and looked at his watch. ‘It is now two o’clock in the afternoon, June 23. The interrogation is conducted by myself, Inspector Timothy Sackley and my colleague Jude McCool .’ He turned to Dawson who was still looking very angry. ‘For the record, could you give me your full name and address please sir.’

  ‘Jacob Oswald Dawson, 330 Oak Street, Albany.’

  ‘Is it clear to you Mr. Dawson that you are not interrogated as a suspect, but only as a possible witness?’ The man nodded.

  ‘Please answer with yes or no.’

  ‘Yes’, Dawson said clearly very annoyed.

  ‘Where do you work?’

  ‘At the railway station in Albany.’

  ‘And your job there is?’

  ‘I’m a porter’.

  ‘So, if I understand this correctly, you see the travelers on the platforms going in the trains.’

  Dawson hesitated and it took a while before he answered. ‘No, I don’t come in contact with the passengers.’

  ‘But you do see them.’

  ‘See them… see them…’ Dawson said annoyed. ‘I don’t really look at any of them. When I’m working I don’t have time for that.’

  ‘Do you also work Saturdays?’

  ‘Yeah, every other week.’

  ‘And who is your replacement the days you’re off?’, Jude asked.

  ‘Most of the time that would be Arnold from administration.’ Moon face with the dot of mayonnaise Jude thought.

  ‘I present two pictures to Mr. Dawson now, one of each victim’, Jude said facing the recorder. ‘Mr. Dawson, can you look at the pictures very carefully and tell me if you have ever seen one or both of these women.’

  It was quiet for a while when the man looked at the pictures. ‘Like I already told you this morning, no, I never saw them.’

  Tim assumed he emphasized these words to demonstrate he had been bothered about this already. Tim put the pictures to one side, but still well in view. He put his fingers on his mouth like a letter V, as he gazed at Dawson with penetrating eyes. The man in front of him didn’t blink and stared right back. ‘What the hell can I tell you more?’ he shouted in an angry voice. ‘I told you I don’t know these women. Shall I spell it out for you?’

  ‘Do you visit Corvallis regularly?’ Jude asked pleasantly.

  Dawson seemed startled by the question, maybe because he had forgotten about her or because of the question itself.

  ‘I’ve been there a few times I think.’

  ‘You’re not sure.’

  ‘Only once, but that has to have been over three months ago.’

  ‘And the purpose of your visit?’ Tim looked from Jude to Dawson awaiting his answer.

  ‘I took a friend home. His car broke down.’

  ‘Name of that friend?’

  Dawson shrugged his shoulders. ‘I only know his first name, Michael, that ‘s all.’

  ‘You only know your friend by his first name? Isn’t that odd?’

  ‘He’s not a real friend, more of an acquaintance I meet in a bar regularly.’

  ‘And you drive all the way down from Albany to Corvallis to take home a friend of whom you only know the first name. Come on Mr. Dawson, you can do better than that.’

  ‘I swear this is true,’ Dawson roared. ‘I let him out in a side street off Harrison Boulevard, but I don’t remember the name. I do remember stopping at the Union Bank though.’

  ‘Right behind the park then’, Tim took over.

  ‘If you say so, I’m not very familiar with Corvallis.’

  Tim pulled up Dawson’s criminal record, put it in front of him and pretended to study it thoroughly. Dawson tried to see what it was, but the document only had the police logo on it, no title. Tim looked up. ‘I see you have got a few convictions over the years. Rape in 2005 and drug dealing in 2007.’

  Dawson moaned bitterly. ‘I should have known this would follow me to my grave. One mistake and you can forget it man.’

  ‘That was not just a mistake Mr. Dawson. You don’t pick up someone off the street and rape her on the spot on an impulse. Almost every rape is a preplanned action, choosing your victim, getting to know their habits. And drug dealing for sure is not an impulse.’

  Dawson looked down at the table showing Tim his bald head. ‘The rape only happened once and it was a mistake, whatever you guys may think’, he moaned. ‘I was drunk and she had been on my neck all evening with a cleavage down to her belly button. She should have left me alone.’

  Tim shook his head in disbelief, but decided to let it rest.

  ‘Are you married?’ Jude asked.

  Dawson shook his head and clacked his tongue. ‘I had a girlfri
end for four years but she left when I was in jail. But I really don’t understand of what importance this could be.’ He looked at her with questioning eyes.

  ‘It’s up to us to determine what is important and what isn’t Dawson’, Tim said. ‘Her name please?’

  ‘Michelle Harris’, the man answered reluctantly, his head low.

  ‘And how long have you been working at the station?’

  The man got nervous and it took him a while before answering. ‘Since I came out of jail.’

  Tim looked at the document on the table. ‘That would be 2007. But I wonder, didn’t they ask you for a proof of good behavior?’

  ‘No’.

  ‘And where did you work before you went to jail?’

  ‘Different places.’

  ‘Other train stations you mean?’ Tim asked.

  Dawson shuffled on his chair. ‘No, I was a teacher, creative writing and painting.’