Lt. Wilson walked back into his office, shaking his head and shut the door.
“I was just about to tell Detective Frost that we have interviews to do,” Axel mimicked.
“You are such a kiss ass,” Axel declared.
“We do have interviews to do, and I’m not a kiss-ass,” Gary protested.
“Now come on and get your keys. I’ll tell you where we’re going on the way to the parking garage.”
As they exited the building, Gary explained that Richard Lambert had called early this morning and agreed to see Gary at 9:45 at Mountain Air Deli on Tejon Street. Gary also informed Axel that he was scheduled to interview Mr. Garcia, the driver of the taxi at 9:45 as well at the taxi company’s office on West Colorado Boulevard.
“I’ll meet or call you later, and we can discuss what we learned from our interviews,” Gary said as the two walked into the parking garage.
“Sounds good.”
Chapter 6
Dr. Trevor’s office was decorated very modestly. There were no family photos, no trophies, or anything else that would lead one of his patients to believe that he had any interest outside of psychiatry.
Jeramiah had driven to Denver and made it to the appointment with the doctor on time. The same as he had done for the past year on every other Monday. He found the leather chair very comfortable. The room always seemed to be the right temperature, had the right amount of lighting, and smelled of mahogany.
Jeramiah looked at his watch impatiently. He needed the appointment with Dr. Trevor to be done on time today because he had an afternoon appointment back in Colorado Springs.
“How are things at home?” Dr. Trevor asked after seeing his patient fidgeting in the chair.
“Fine,” Jeramiah answered quickly. He thought Dr. Trevor was nosey, especially when it came to asking questions about Jeramiah’s home life. He also thought Dr. Trevor was overweight and a slob, but he allowed Jeramiah to pay in cash and in turn Dr. Trevor provided him with a prescription that kept the voice and hallucinations out of his head.
It was about a year ago when he first started hearing his father’s voice, and it was about six months ago that he stopped taking the meds because he missed the urges. The urges came with a price. That price was his father’s voice in his head. He had decided it was an acceptable nuisance if he could indulge in his urges and fantasies.
“How are your parents?” Dr. Trevor asked, attempting to get his patient to converse on some topic.
“They’re fine.”
“And the voices, do you still hear them?” Dr. Trevor asked as he wrote in his notepad.
“No. I take my medication as directed.”
Not really, but that’s what you want to hear. They still talk to me. And they all tell me to do things. Bad things, Jeramiah thought.
“How are things at the mall? Are you still working nights?”
“Yes. Someone has to clean the toilets,” Jeramiah answered sarcastically.
As if anyone would believe that I would actually clean up someone else’s shit.
“You sound a little bitter today. Is there something troubling you?”
Yeah. I kidnapped, raped, and killed a girl the other night and I think someone may have seen me… Oh, and my father is driving me crazy!
“No nothing at all,” Jeramiah answered.
“Jeramiah, Paranoid Schizophrenia is not a condition that you should take lightly. How’s the Chlorpromazine working for you? Are you having any side effects from the medication?”
Yes actually. I don’t feel the urge to hurt people as much. So, I stopped taking it six months ago. The only reason I come here is so that you don’t alert anyone that I may be a danger to myself or others.
“No. No side effects.”
Jeramiah hated these appointments, but they were necessary. His mother had found Dr. Trevor in Denver and set up his first appointment. If Jeramiah stopped coming to the appointments, he knew Dr. Trevor would try to contact his mother, or even come by the house for a home visit.
That simply wouldn’t do! I’d have to kill him. I mean, I still plan on killing him but not right now.
“Do you have plans for the 4th of July?” Dr. Trevor asked.
“No. Not yet but I’m keeping my options open.”
***
Axel entered the taxicab office right on time. The walls were painted white with a red and white checkerboard track border that was mid-way up the wall. It ran around the office with cabs racing past each other on both sides. The receptionist was polite, and she escorted Axel into the break area where he found a Hispanic man sitting alone at a table, drinking from a coffee cup.
“Hello. You are Detective Frost, yes? I am Juan Garcia. Your friend say you come and talk with me,” Mr. Garcia said as he stood.
The detective reached out and shook hands with Juan as he entered the room. Juan Garcia was in his forties, and he spoke in a thick accent, accompanied by broken English. Axel also noticed that Mr. Garcia appeared to be very nervous.
“Yes, I’m Detective Frost. I’m glad you could meet with me this morning, Mr. Garcia,” Axel said as he shook the man’s hand.
“Ah. No problem. My boss says I should speak to you and tell what I know,” Mr. Garcia said as he twisted his ball cap in his hands anxiously.
“That’s wonderful, Mr. Garcia.”
His uneasiness was visually apparent, and the other people coming in and out of the breakroom seemed to make him even more uncomfortable.
A breakroom wasn’t what Axel had in mind, but it was better than the hallway. In the middle of the room was a large table and, in the corner, there sat a small silver garbage can that desperately needed to be emptied. Mr. Garcia motioned for the detective to sit down. Mr. Garcia sat directly across from him while he continued twisting his hat in his lap.
“Mr. Garcia, I wanted to ask you about a fare you picked up early Sunday morning near the convenience store on 21st Street and Highway 24,” Axel explained in a friendly voice as he took out a pen and placed it along with a notebook on the table.
“Si. I pick up pretty lady, she very nice to me,” Mr. Garcia explained.
“Did you happen to get a name from her?”
“No, I do not.”
“Do you remember what she looked like?” Axel asked as he scribbled in the notepad.
“Si. Long hair, tall, and thin, and very pretty,” He answered as he looked up at the ceiling and to the left.
It was an indication to the trained detective that Mr. Garcia was telling the truth as he tried to recall what the woman looked like from memory.
“Was her hair blonde, brown, or do you remember?”
“Yes. She blonde.”
“Do you remember where you took her?”
“Si. I take to house in Woodlake Estates. It was very nice big home.”
“Do you remember the address?”
“Si, I write it down. It stucco house on mountainside of street of Valley View. 14445 is house number,” Juan said after pulling out his notepad that he kept in his shirt pocket.
“Did she say anything to you during your drive?” Axel asked as he continued to take notes in his notepad.
“No. She just says street and point, but she pay me real good tip,” Juan said with a smile.
Axel decided that Mr. Garcia was friendly and that he appeared to be telling the truth about his time with the unknown female passenger. By the time the two were finished, Mr. Garcia had calmed down. As Axel stood to leave, Mr. Garcia had one request of the detective.
“You tell boss I help you please?” He asked as he reached out to shake Axel’s hand.
“Yes, I will. Thanks again for the help,” He answered back and then walked out of the building back to his car.
Chapter 7
Mountain Air Deli wasn’t overly crowded, but the small dining area for customers placed the wealthy patrons of the establishment quite close to one another. The closeness of ‘these people' made Gary uncomfortable. ‘These people'
were as Gary called them, Yuppies, and while he impatiently waited there for Richard Lambert, he made the determination that the entire establishment was a Yuppie Zone. He avoided those places like the plague on most days.
Lambert was late for the appointment, and Gary was becoming agitated by the lack of cooperation and consideration. He took his frustration out on the young waitress that had walked over to his table to get his order. The young girl had the misfortune of waiting on the impatient cowboy that was sitting in her section. Gary, since birth most likely, had started his day with a cup of coffee, black of course, and one sugar which he ordered from the waitress. The whipped cream running over the top and down the sides of the cups on the tables around him, being slowly sipped by the Yuppies he disliked only added to his annoyance.
Richard Lambert entered the deli and immediately he wished that he had chosen a more private location to meet the police detective. He had suggested the deli without a thought about how crowded it would be this time of day.
“Detective Portland?” Lambert whispered softly as he approached the detective. Gary looked Lambert over unapprovingly as he stood there in his expensive suit and two-hundred-dollar shoes. Lambert was extending his hand for the customary gentleman’s greeting while at the same time looking the detective up and down in his off the rack suit and leather cowboy boots. For a moment, Gary thought about not shaking hands but quickly decided it was probably a good idea to start things off politely.
“Hello again. Thanks for meeting with me, Mr. Lambert. Please sit down,” Gary said with a friendly smile. He had hoped this approach to the interview would facilitate a positive atmosphere between the two men in which to conduct the interview. His experience over the years taught him to allow the interviewee to be comfortable in the hopes he or she would talk and not put up defenses.
“I want to thank you for agreeing to meet me here instead of my home or my office. You see Detective, I’m a very private man, and I prefer that neither my neighbors nor my employees know anything about my private life, especially when it comes to matters involving the police,” Lambert explained as he sat there straightening his suit coat.
The words and the body language that Lambert used were indications to the experienced detective that Lambert was self-centered, pompous, and an extrovert. Someone with an extrovert personality, like Lambert, thought that he was going to run the interview and control the outcome. Maybe it was nothing, and maybe Gary really didn’t see anything. Perhaps he just did not like the man, but either way, he quickly decided to use another approach for the interview.
“Well, that’s fine, Mr. Lambert. Privacy can be very important to someone like you, who’s involved in a situation like this,” Gary said acknowledging Lambert’s comment while leaving the word ‘this’ lingering on his lips a little longer than usual.
“Yes, you are quite right Detective,” Lambert said as he now put himself on the defensive by sitting back in his chair away from the police detective and crossing his arms.
“Well, with that in mind, let me begin by asking. What you were doing in North Cheyenne Cañon early Sunday morning?” Gary asked with confidence as he slid his folded arms and torso across the small circular table as he moved closer to Lambert.
“I was simply walking alone, thinking about a personal problem that I’m struggling with right now. Sometimes I go up to the trails where it’s quiet and peaceful to be alone with my thoughts,” Lambert answered as he repositioned his legs to the other side of the table, away from the detective.
“Really? Well, that’s interesting because a lot of men take their girlfriends up to the trails to fuck. Not many people go up there just to be alone to think about personal problems in the middle of the night. I…” Before Gary could finish, Lambert interrupted sharply.
“Detective, my wife wasn’t with me that night,” Lambert protested loudly and then uncomfortably looked around the deli.
“I know. I said that people take their girlfriends up to the trails to fuck…not their wives,” Gary explained in a much louder tone drawing the attention of some of the other customers.
“First of all, it’s insulting to accuse me of having an affair. Second of all, I have half a mind to call your supervisor and inform him about how you are treating a personal friend and advisor to the mayor of the city,” Lambert replied quieter and then paused as he looked around the deli before speaking again.
“Well Third of all,” Gary said quickly not allowing Lambert to start again,” I’ve got half the mind to call your wife and ask her if she was the woman who was picked up at the convenience store early yesterday morning. I might even call the store clerk and maybe get a video of the people coming in and out of the store early yesterday morning. Perhaps that same video will make its way to the nightly news where everyone in Colorado Springs can call in and help identify the mystery woman who most likely isn’t your wife," Gary threatened and then sat there quietly waiting for a response from Lambert.
“Okay Detective. I was up there with a woman, who I’d like to keep anonymous, and who would like to remain anonymous, I’m sure,” Lambert said uncomfortably while he repositioned himself in the chair once more.
“My wife and I are in an open relationship. So, I on occasion will keep company with different women. Sometimes I go to private places with these women to be alone. The other night I went up in the trails with one particular woman.”
“In the middle of the night to,” Gary said, waiting for Lambert to finish his statement.
“To fuck as you like to say. I’m trying to hold on to a bit of my dignity and be civilized right now. Like someone who has a reputation to uphold,” Lambert said in defense.
“That’s fine, and I’ll be sure to tell this poor dead girl’s family about how your dignity and being a gentleman is so important to their daughter’s case,” Gary said as he leaned closer.
“Now, I’m going to start asking questions, and I expect answers to those questions from you,” Gary ordered in a stern voice.
“If you don’t believe you can answer my questions, then I can always arrange a trip to one of our interview rooms downtown. Furthermore, at any time if you think you’re someone special and don’t need to talk to me, maybe an anonymous call can be made to the media, informing them how a friend to the mayor is a prime suspect in a murder investigation,” Gary explained and then allowed his last statement to set in before speaking again.
“I mean, how would you explain to the media about being in the North Cheyenne Cañon in the wee hours of the morning walking alone pondering your personal problems?” Gary remarked threateningly.
“Okay, like I said, I was up there with a woman. She and I wanted to be alone. We walked up the trail looking for a private place to throw a blanket, and as we came around the bend towards the clearing, we saw a figure on the ground. At first, I couldn’t tell what it was, so I used my flashlight to get a better look at what I thought was an animal. As we moved closer, it became clear that it was a girl’s body,” Lambert said and then paused for a moment as he looked down at the table in front of him.
“Go on Lambert,” Gary ordered.
“Sharon started to scream, and I started shining my light into the trees around us. I half expected an animal to come charging at us from out of the trees or something. After a few seconds, I quickly grabbed Sharon’s hand, and we started running back down the trail toward the road where we'd parked.”
Gary took notes as Lambert told his story and once again Lambert paused. This time, he placed his face to his hands and rubbed his eyes.
“What happened when the two of you made it back down the trail?”
“Well, when we were in the car driving down the road Sharon said that she thought she saw someone in the woods. I thought I heard something behind us, but now I just think it may have been my imagination.”
“And then?”
“I dropped Sharon off at the convenience store, and she called a cab. I then drove back up the hill and called the police
. I stayed in my car near the trail and waited. Honestly, I was afraid to get out of my car and go back up the trail alone.”
“Who’s Sharon?”
“She’s Councilman Douglas’s wife. Now, do you understand why I’m so reluctant to speak about her? If our affair got out it’d be very damaging to a lot of people and their families,” Lambert explained quietly looking around the room once more.
“Yes, I do. Now did you see anyone when you started flashing your light into the woods?”
“No.”
“Did you see any cars parked along the road or near the trail before walking up the path with Sharon?”
“I don’t remember. I know that cars have been parked there before when Sharon and I went up the trail. I just thought they were other people trying to be alone like us.”
“Have you spoken to Sharon Douglas since the other night?”
“Yes, but only once. I told her I’d try not to mention her name to the police. If this got out to the public, it’d really damage her in the community. I mean she really does a lot for people that need help, and she should not be defined as a woman who has an affair in the woods.”
“Are you going to leave your wife for her?” Gary asked without hesitation. It was a question that most people wouldn’t have asked someone they’d just met, but Gary wanted to know, not for the case but just for his own curiosity.
“Now detective that’s private, and I don’t believe you need to know that information for your investigation. However, to satisfy your curiosity, I don’t believe I’ll ever leave my wife. For now, Sharon and I have a good time with each other, and we will continue to have a good time until we get tired of each other’s company and decide to move on.”
“Well, that’s interesting. That’s all I’ve got for you right now, Dick, but I may call on you again if something needs to be answered or if I think you can help,” Gary added with a bit of sarcasm to which Lambert simply laughed and rolled his eyes without comment.
“Please make all further contacts with me through my office,” Lambert stated as he stood up, looked around the room, and walked away without shaking hands with Gary.
Heartbeats of a Killer Page 4