by Lisa Orchard
Officer Wilson stepped toward the chief. “You said they could listen, remember?”
The chief snorted in response, but didn’t ask the Super Spies to leave. Instead he gestured and said,“Okay, Wilson, why don’t you start with Klonsky first.”
“Yes, sir.” Officer Wilson walked into the first interrogation room where Lon Klonsky sat hunched in his chair.
Chapter Thirteen
The Super Spies walked a few steps to the right and sat in front of the first window. Sarah peered into the room and examined the man who had terrified her the night before.
The swelling around his eyes had diminished, but they still watered occasionally and the scar by his eye was an angry red gash. Klonsky’s rage erupted as he spewed curses and rants.
“Wilson, what is going on?” he demanded.
“What do you mean?”
“I was put in a cell like a common criminal.”
“That’s where we put murderers.”
“What are you talking about?” Klonsky made a fist and pounded the table.
“You’ve been arrested for the murder of Frieda Fedewa.”
“That’s what they said earlier.” Klonsky shook his head. “I just can’t believe it.”
“It’s true.”
“Come on, Wilson… you know I didn’t murder anybody.”
“We’ve got eyewitness testimony and evidence.”
“You don’t have any evidence,” Klonsky sneered.
“What makes you say that?”
“I was the lead investigator on the case. I know what you guys have. You got nothing.”
“That’s not true, Lon.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“We’ve got David Fedewa, and he’s talking.”
Officer Wilson gave the dirty cop a withering look. A fearful expression danced across Klonsky’s face, but he quickly recovered. He stared at the officer, daring him to push the envelope.
“It’s not looking good for you.” Officer Wilson tapped his pencil on his notepad and eyed Klonsky.
“I want a lawyer.”
“Suit yourself.”
Officer Wilson stood and turned toward the door, then stopped. “There’s nothing worse than a dirty cop.”
“Get out of here!” Klonsky screamed. He lunged across the table at Wilson.
Wilson opened the door, walked out, and closed it behind him.
“Doesn’t look like he’s going to talk, does it?” Chief Johnson asked.
“No, it doesn’t.” Wilson shook his head.
“Try your luck with David.”
“All right.” He walked up to the window and studied David for a few minutes. “I’m going to try a softer approach with him.”
The chief pursed his lips and nodded. “All right. Give it a shot.”
Officer Wilson opened the door to David’s room. Sarah shifted her position and the rest of the Super Spies followed her.
“Hello, David.”
Sarah watched— hoping David would answer. He didn’t, he sat in his chair bouncing his legs.
She studied him as he cowered in his seat. His curly, dark hair was long and needed trimming. David’s brown eyes flitted around the room, never fixing on one object at a time. He resembled a neglected child, wearing overalls and a dirty T-shirt.
“Hello, David.”
This time, the officer’s voice registered.
“Where’s Lon?” David squeaked.
The sound of David’s voice surprised Sarah. It sounded childlike and innocent.
“Don’t worry about Lon right now. He’s all right. I would like to talk with you.”
“I need to talk to Lon.”
“We’ll let you talk with him in a little bit,” Officer Wilson said. His voice sounded smooth as dark honey. “But right now we need to talk with you and hear your story.”
“I want to talk to Lon right now,” David said.
David’s legs bounced faster. Sarah could tell his anxiety had turned up a notch.
“Okay, David. I’ll go see if he’s available. Would you like a soda while you wait?”
“Yeah.”
“Could you answer one question for me before I talk to Lon?”
“No.” David gazed down at the table, his legs still bouncing.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Officer Wilson walked out of the room, and glanced at the chief. “We need to call the forensic psychologist in.”
Chief Johnson shifted his weight and nodded. “I agree.” He turned toward another officer. “Michaels, get Dr. Stiles here, ASAP.”
The officer left to follow his orders.
“He’s got some mental issues, boss,” Wilson said as he studied David.
“Yes.” The chief rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Hopefully, Stiles will get his story out of him.”
Sarah groaned. “I hope this doesn’t take too long.”
“I know what you mean,” Jackie said as she gave Sarah’s arm a squeeze.
“Detective Swift, why are they calling a forensic psychologist?” Sarah asked.
“They’ve got to evaluate him, to find out if he’s mentally competent.”
“Mentally competent?” Sarah pivoted in her seat and gazed at the detective.
“Yes, see if he can be questioned, if he knows right from wrong, if he can assist in his own defense, that kind of thing.”
“Oh.” Sarah stared at the floor, deep in thought. Maybe David’s mental state was the reason for his odd behavior. She sighed and slumped in her chair; she hated waiting.
The Super Spies hung out in the viewing area waiting for the doctor to arrive. After what seemed like hours, he walked through the door with a confident stride.
“Chief, how are you?” Dr. Stiles asked.
He was a stocky man with a compassionate demeanor and a friendly, open face.
“You won’t believe who we have in interrogation room two,” Chief Johnson said.
“Who?”
“David Fedewa.”
“Are you serious?” Dr. Stiles spun toward the interrogation room and studied David.
“As a heart attack.”
“This is unbelievable.” The doctor peered at David through the glass. “Isn’t he the one who disappeared thirty years ago?”
“That’s right.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“We’re all shocked. We need you to evaluate him and see if you can build a relationship with him. The only cop he wants to talk to is Lon.”
“Why can’t he talk to Lon?”
“Because Lon is a suspect in his mother’s murder.”
“Are you serious?” Dr. Stiles pivoted back and locked eyes with the chief.
“Absolutely. Can you give it a go?”
The psychologist nodded.
“Here” Officer Wilson handed him a soda. “He wanted this.”
“All right, let’s give it a shot.” He walked toward the room and stepped through the door. Sarah’s eyes were on the glass, anticipating the interaction about to take place.
“Hello, David. Here’s your soda.”
“Ah, thanks. Who are you?” David grabbed the soda and eyed the doctor.
“I’m a doctor. I help the police sometimes.”
David took a long swig of the soda. “I ain’t sick. I don’t need a doc.”
“Well, I’m a different kind of doctor. I’m more of a doctor for your mind.”
“I ain’t crazy, either.” His legs started their nervous bounce again.
“Oh, I know that. I’m here to help you. Everything is going to be all right.”
“Where’s Lon?” David asked, sinking into his chair and staring at the Doctor.
“Lon’s in the next room. He’s pretty busy now. He told me to tell you it was okay to talk with me.”
“He did, huh?”
“Yes, we need to figure out this puzzle.”
“Puzzle?”
“Yeah, you know, you’ve been gone for a long time. The police have been looking
for you for thirty years,” Dr. Stiles said with a reassuring smile. “We just want to know where you’ve been, and if you’re all right.”
“I’ve been with Lon and his dad.” David’s body relaxed and his legs stopped dancing.
Dr. Stiles pointed to the chair opposite David. “May I?”
David shrugged. “I guess.”
The doctor sat down and gave David another paternal smile. “So you’ve been with Lon and his dad the whole time?”
“Yep.” David nodded.
“Did you go to school?”
“No, we was homeschooled by Lon’s dad.”
“Home schooled, huh?”
“Yep.”
He took another drink of his soda and burped. He glanced at the doctor and laughed just like a five-year-old would.
Doctor Stiles gave David another disarming smile. “David, do you know who the president is?”
David gave the doctor a hesitant grin. “The president?”
“Yeah, you know, the man who runs the country?”
“Nope. Lon told me I didn’t need ta know that stuff.”
“I see.” Dr. Stiles frowned. “Do you know the capital of this state?”
“Dunno.” David shook his head and pushed his soda can between his hands.
“Do you remember the day you went to live with Lon?”
“Where is Lon?”
“He’s in another room. You’re not in trouble here, David. Everything is going to be all right. We just want to hear your story.”
“What story?”
“The story about when you went to live with Lon.”
“I’m not supposed to tell that story,” David whispered.
Sarah saw a shadow of grief flit across his features.
“It’s okay. Everything is going to be all right. Lon said it was okay to tell it now,” the doctor leaned forward and whispered.
“Could I get another pop?”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.”
Doctor Stiles stood and walked through the door into the viewing area.
The chief rushed up to him. “What do you think?”
“It appears David has some developmental issues and is probably suffering from Stockholm’s Syndrome.” The doctor rubbed his forehead.
“Stockholm’s Syndrome, huh?” Chief Johnson frowned. “How can you tell? You haven’t asked him many questions.”
“Because of his total dependence on Lon. Of course, I would need to do an extensive evaluation to be sure.”
“Ah, I see.” The chief tapped his chin with his fingertips, deep in thought.
Sarah tugged on Detective Swift’s sleeve. “What’s Stockholm’s Syndrome?”
“It’s where a kidnap victim identifies with his captors. He’s dependent on them for his survival.”
“Dependent?” Sarah cocked her head and studied him.
“Yes, he depended on the Klonskys’ to take care of him.”
“Is that why David didn’t run away?”
“Yes, it is.” He pointed at Dr. Stiles. “They’re going to continue the interview.”
Sarah focused her attention back on the doctor for a moment and then studied David. He seemed more at ease than he had earlier.
“He wants another soda.” Dr. Stiles told the chief as he glanced at David.
“Yeah, I sent Michaels to get one for you.”
“I’m going to find out about the day he was kidnapped. He’s dropped his guard. I think he’ll spill it.”
“All right. I want you to wear an ear piece, so I can feed you questions.” Chief Johnson motioned for Detective Wilson.
“Sure.”
“Wilson, go get one of our ear pieces for the doctor.”
“Sure, boss.”
Wilson disappeared and reappeared within minutes. He handed the earpiece to the doctor. Sarah strained in her seat to see it. It resembled a hearing aid.
“It’s not uncomfortable,” Wilson said.
The doctor nodded. “Where’s that soda?” He fumbled with the tiny instrument, trying to put it in his ear.
“Right here.” Michaels trotted up.
“I’m back at it.” Dr. Stiles walked back into the interrogation room and handed David his drink. “So, David, can you tell me about the day you went to live with Lon?” He sat back down in his chair.
“Are you sure Lon said it was okay to talk to you?”
Dr. Stiles smiled. “Yes, he said it was okay.”
“All right. We was at the pool with my dad, then Lon says, ‘hey, let’s get some ice cream.’ I says, ‘okay.’”
“So you went to get ice cream?”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t think to tell your dad?”
David shrugged. “We was gonna be back before he got out of the bathroom.”
The doctor nodded and pursed his lips. “I see.”
“So, then Lon’s dad pulls up and says there’s trouble at the mill. I need to go home with them.”
“What happened next?” Dr. Stiles clasped his hands in front of him.
“I jumped in the car with Lon and his dad.”
“Then what?”
“Then we got to Lon’s house, and I asked when my dad was gonna come git me.”
“What did Mr. Klonsky say?”
“He said there was still trouble at the mill. I had to stay with them for a week or two.”
“What happened when the two weeks were up?” Dr. Stiles leaned forward in his seat and studied David.
“I asked Mr. Klonsky when my dad was gonna come git me, and he said my dad didn’t want me anymore.” David choked back tears.
“I see. And you believed Mr. Klonsky?”
“Not at first, but my dad never came.” David couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. They rolled down his cheeks like fat raindrops. “I would sit on their porch just waitin’ for my dad to show up, and he never came.” David put his face in the crook of his arm and wept.
A small cry escaped Sarah’s lips as she listened to this story. Tears welled in her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks as she pictured a lonely boy sitting on a porch, watching as one car after another drove by.
“That poor kid,” she whispered to Jackie.
“I know,” Jackie said, never taking her gaze from David.
Sarah wiped her eyes and returned her focus to the interview. She didn’t want to miss a thing.
“I bet that hurt,” Dr. Stiles said. He gave David a compassionate pat on the arm.
David wiped his face on his sleeve. “Yeah, it did. I just couldn’t believe my dad didn’t want me. I was so grateful for Lon and his dad taking me in.”
“So, you just stayed with Lon and his dad?”
“Yep.”
“Why didn’t you run away?”
“Where would I run to? My mom and dad didn’t want me.” David choked back a sob.
“Okay, David. We’re going to take a little break. Do you want another soda?”
“No, but I gotta pee.”
“All right, I’ll have Officer Wilson take you to the bathroom.”
Dr. Stiles stood and walked out of the room. He met the chief in the viewing area.
“I think we’ve got enough to pick up John Klonsky, don’t you?”
“We sure do.”
“Is he still alive?” Dr. Stiles asked, watching Wilson lead David down the hall.
“As far as I know. I’ll send Michaels and his partner out with a warrant for his arrest.”
“David is definitely suffering from Stockholm’s Syndrome. It’s a textbook case.” Dr. Stiles sighed and shook his head.
“Doc, I need to find out what role he played in his mother’s death and if he knew she was his mother. Do you think you can ask him about that night?”
“I’ll give it a try.”
The chief and the doctor huddled together and spoke in low voices. Sarah could no longer hear the conversation. After a few minutes, David returned to his seat and Dr. Stiles went back into the interrogation room.
Sarah focused her attention back on the interview. Tears welled in her eyes again as she thought about Mrs. Fedewa and her tragic life.
“David, I just have a few more questions for you,” Dr. Stiles said.
“Okay.”
David appeared relaxed. He put his elbows on the table and leaned on them, pushing the soda can between his hands.
“About a week ago a lady was murdered. Do you know anything about that?”
Sarah saw David grow rigid, and he didn’t speak.
“David?”
David closed his eyes, and whispered, “She has the same last name as me.”
“Yes, she does.”
“Who was that lady?” David opened his eyes, and stared at the doctor.
“How do you know she has the same last name as you?”
“Cuz one of them kids said her name was Mrs. Fedewa…Who is she?”
Dr. Stiles glanced down at his hands. “David, before I answer, you need to tell me what happened to her.”
David squeezed his eyes shut. His hands dropped to his sides, and he clenched them. “I was there the night she was kilt.”
“What happened?”
David’s eyes remained shut as he spoke. “Lon knocked on this lady’s door. He jus kept knockin’ and knockin’. It seemed like forever before a lady came to the door. I could see her lookin’ out the window at us. She looked kinda scared, and then she looked at me and started to cry. The lady tried to unlock the door, but she was havin’ trouble, like she was in a hurry or somethin’.”
“What happened next?”
“I was wonderin’ what she was cryin’ about, then when she opened the door she said, ‘David,’ like she knowed me. She was so happy, and I was confused. How did this lady know me?” David paused and tears started to leak from his eyes.
“Then what happened?” Dr. Stiles leaned forward in his seat.
“It happened fast.” David snuffled and wiped his face on his sleeve.
“What happened fast?”
“Lon pulled out this knife, and he stabbed the lady! She had this surprised look on her face, and there was blood! I just wanted to get out of there!”
“Did you know what Lon was going to do before you got there?”
“No, I hadn’ a clue!” David said. His eyes flew open, and he gestured frantically with his hands.
“Then what happened?”
“I kinda went crazy. I couldn’t believe what Lon had done.”