by Henry Hack
“Thank you, Captain, but if he is the Savior he must be stopped, long lost brother or not. The murders…it…it’s just awful to think a blood relative of mine could mastermind something like this.”
“Deep down, for both of you,” Danny said, “I hope you’re wrong about him.”
“But you don’t think that do you, Detective?” Melissa asked.
“I think you’re suspicions are well-grounded. Ted Gillenbock could well be our man.”
“Do you two agree with Detective Boyland?” Joe asked.
Both McKee and Washington said, “Yes.”
John McKee breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God you didn’t confront him.”
“Why?” Melissa asked. “Would we have placed ourselves in danger? We thought about that, but after all, he is our brother.”
“Yes, I believe you would have placed yourselves in great danger. I believe Ted Gillenbock, if he is indeed the Savior, would have had you both killed at his earliest opportunity.”
“Do you honestly believe that?” Melissa asked.
“Fanatics will do anything to prevent their identity from being revealed which would, of course, bring their crusade to an end. He would kill you without hesitation. I know. My experience knows.”
There was silence in the room and then Danny said, “We’d like to go over some points again, particularly those relating to his possible whereabouts.”
“And we’d like you to help a sketch artist prepare a composite of Ted,” George said.
“I can do better than that,” Melissa said, reaching into her purse. “I brought some photos of him.”
“You have photos?” Danny asked, opening his eyes wide. “He let you take his picture?”
“He didn’t stand and pose alone, but these are group photos from his last visit with our families.”
They examined a group of thirteen color snapshots and selected three to keep. The best one had a smiling Ted, face forward to the camera, with his arms around his new-found brother and sister. A shiver went through Danny as he viewed the picture. Ted did resemble Jesus Christ as he was portrayed in religious depictions, highly resembled Him, except for one feature – in all the pictures Danny had ever seen of Jesus, he never looked back at you with the crazed eyes of a fanatic.
When the interview was over, John re-emphasized to Joe and Melissa if, or when, Ted contacted them they were to play along as before. “Don’t confront him or his beliefs,” he said. “Don’t give him any inkling you suspect who he might be. He just might show up without warning. If he calls first, we’ll get his number. I want to put traps on your land lines. If he calls by cell phone, get his return number. We’ve got to get him as soon as we can.”
“Will you kill him, Captain?” Melissa asked. “Are you going to kill my brother?”
“Not if we can avoid it. If we can apprehend him by surprise, without a struggle, that would be our preferred result.”
“Thank you,” she said, but had she been able to see into John McKee’s mind she would have seen an entirely different picture of the capture of her brother. She would have seen John McKee calmly shoot two bullets into her brother’s brain, and then she would have seen him smile, blow the smoke from the barrel of his gun and say, “That’s for Pop Hunter, you crazy, murdering bastard.”
Danny escorted Joe and Melissa back to the elevators and thanked them once more for coming forward and he re-stated the importance of being low-key with their brother during their next contact or meeting. Danny returned to the interview room and said, “Is Ted Gillenbock our guy?”
“I hope so,” John said. “Let’s go find him.”
Joe Gillenbock had provided the results of his computer search which they would have re-checked and utilize as a starting point. And they had the photos. “John,” George said, “what should we do with these photos? I mean if we distribute them we’ll be tipping our hand, right?”
“This is important enough to get Walt and Harry over here right away,” John said. “We’ll play the tape of the interview and discuss where to go from here. I’ll call them now.”
“John, is this it?” Danny asked. “Is this the lucky break Nick said we needed?”
“Could be, but there is some truth to what Carl said – we have to make our own breaks. And to do that it’s back to the drudgery of database searches. Let’s find this guy now. Remember, Joe Gillenbock said he didn’t expect to get together with his brother until the fall at the earliest. That’s over three months away. How many more murders will the Romens commit in three months?”
An hour later Walt and Harry were present with the rest of the Task Force as the interview with Joe and Melissa began playing. The photos were on the table and being passed around. At the tape’s conclusion, Harry said, “Finally, I think we have something here.”
A decision was made to keep a lid on the photos until all efforts had been exhausted in the search for the Savior. They all hoped that with the computer power available to them from every level of government they would be able to locate Ted Gillenbock.
Unfortunately, the initial computer research showed the trail of Ted ending with his graduation from high school in Colorado, and leaving his last foster home.
“Who wants to go to Colorado?” Petersen asked.
“Me and Danny will go,” Washington said. “Right after we collar Jason Morgan tomorrow morning.”
“Speaking of Morgan,” John said, “I want to grab him up on the street before he gets into the store. If we let him get inside, I’m afraid that woman I spoke to on Monday might tip him off somebody was looking for him. And I don’t want anyone to know he was scooped up by law enforcement.”
John McKee wondered, as he figured all his team members wondered – what if Morgan didn’t show up? What if the search for the Savior dead-ended? He shook his head and sipped his coffee and forced himself to think positive – in less than twenty-four hours Jason Morgan would be in custody and Danny and George would be flying to Colorado.
The Task Force members worked feverishly all day attacking the tip files and researching the databases for any information on the present whereabouts of Ted Gillenbock. The work was necessary, but tedious, and it provided a necessary distraction to keep their minds off the Gotham bookstore and what they would, or would not, find there the next morning.
It was Alicia Johnson who found Gillenbock’s social security number. He had gotten it at his first job after graduation from high school. Using the number, she tracked all of Gillenbock’s employment, at least those jobs on the books, and prepared a printout for the team. The list of mostly menial jobs – waiter, gas station attendant, laborer, cab driver – spanned eight states with the last reported income coming from an assistant manager’s position at a fast food hamburger joint in Philadelphia.
“You know, John,” Danny said, “I’m beginning to believe this guy said good-bye to Colorado a long time ago. I think his whole story about still living there and working there is pure bullshit.”
“You think a trip to God’s country would be a waste of time?”
“Not that we both don’t want to go out to the wilderness for a few days break, but yeah, I think it would be.”
“Philly, then?” John said.
“Yeah,” Washington said. “Philly first, then we’ll work our way backwards, maybe ending up in Colorado, if necessary.”
“Okay, you two can drive down there right after we scoop up Jason tomorrow morning.”
“I’m glad you’re thinking positive,” Danny said.
“Got to, because if the prick doesn’t show and you two don’t find Ted Gillenbock still flipping burgers in Philly, then we have nothing.”
16
Thursday morning dawned clear and bright previewing a perfect day in June. The entire team was in place on the street and at the subway exits well in advance of the store’s eight a.m. opening. At 7:40 Jason Morgan climbed up the subway stairs on the southwest corner of Seventh Avenue and 14th Street and began to walk no
rth on the avenue.
“He’s just about to walk past me and Spider,” Joe Ramos said.
“Me and Danny are in the nearest car,” George Washington said.
“Okay,” John said. “Scoop him up and take him in. Everybody hang tight until we get the word from George.”
Ramos and Webb came up on either side of Jason and grabbed him firmly by the arms. “We’re Federal agents,” Ramos said. “We want you to accompany us to our office for an interview.”
“And if I don’t want to go?” Jason asked.
“We’ll take you anyway. By whatever means necessary. Easier will be better.”
“They’re expecting me back at work today.”
“We know,” Spider said. “A call will be made shortly explaining your housing move will take a day longer.”
If Jason Morgan was surprised that the Feds knew about his move, he did not show it on his face. But inside, his guts were churning, and his mind was working feverishly. Spider and Joe pushed him into the back seat of the car and got in with him. As Danny drove away, George picked up the microphone and said, “Target secured. We’re on the way in.”
They placed him in the same interview room they used to speak with Joe and Melissa. The interview approach and tactics had been long decided on and the two interviewers chosen. All members of the Task Force were superb interrogators and all wanted to be the first team to tackle Morgan. Nick Faliani and John McKee were ruled out due to their closeness to Pop Hunter. “I don’t think you have to worry about me and Nick,” John had said to Petersen. Carl had grunted and said, “Gimme a break. If that guy confesses to killing Pop Hunter, I’d fuckin' go for his throat, and you two…well, you two won’t be in there. Period.”
The first team would be Danny Boyland and George Washington, followed by Alicia Johnson and Joe Ramos. A third team, Carl Petersen and Spider Webb, would be assigned if necessary, but if Jason didn’t roll under the pressure from the first two teams, a third team would most likely be useless anyway. They all hunkered down for a long day. Danny and George entered the room and Danny said, “Would you like some coffee?”
“Sure,” Jason said, “just a little milk and two sugars.”
“No cigarettes, though, I’m sure,” George said.
“No, no cigarettes. Why am I here?”
“We want to ask you some questions,” Danny said.
“Am I under arrest for anything?”
“No.”
“It sure seems like it, since you kidnapped me off the street.”
“We didn’t cuff you, though.”
Jason nodded and sipped his coffee. He said, “I think I want a lawyer.”
“Why?”
“To protect my rights.”
“Let me read those rights to you now,” George said. He took out the printed card containing the Miranda warnings and read them slowly and deliberately to Jason. Then he placed the card and one other like it on the table in front of him. “Please sign both cards, Mr. Morgan, and then Detective Boyland and I will also sign both. You can keep one.”
After reading what George had just verbally expressed to him, Jason Morgan signed both cards and said, “After hearing you, and reading this, I can't understand why anyone would ever waive their rights and consent to answer any of your questions. Certainly I won't, and I re-state my desire to have a lawyer – now.”
“Some people waive their rights and answer our questions because they know it is in their best interest,” Danny said.
“How do I know what could be in my best interest?”
“You can’t know that yet, but you’ll learn that if you allow us to speak to you. All you have to do is listen to us.”
“And if I choose to not even listen to you, can I leave?”
“Yes.”
“I can get up and walk right out the door?”
“Sure,” George said, “but I don’t know how long you’d last out there. I’m surprised the Romens didn’t kill you, too. Don’t tell me that thought hadn’t occurred to you over the course of the past few days.”
That got Jason’s attention as they observed the color drain from his face and he settled himself in his chair. Of course, if Jason Morgan had attempted to leave he would have been firmly slammed back into that chair. Jason Morgan wasn’t going anywhere. After Danny and George let the silence continue for a full two minutes Danny said, “Will you listen to what we have to say, Disciple Number Five?”
“Can I have some more coffee?” he asked.
“Sure, I’ll get it for you.”
Jason sipped the coffee and set the mug back on the table with a shaking hand. “Go ahead,” he said.
George began, “I want you to ponder the word duress, Jason. Do you know what that means? Don’t answer that – we promised no questions.”
Jason smiled and said, “That’s okay, I know what duress means – acting under the threat of force.”
“Correct, but it also is a precise legal term. Under the Penal Law, acting under duress is an affirmative defense when a person is accused of committing a crime.”
“I’m not sure what that means,” Jason said.
“It means that it’s a legitimate excuse for having committed a crime you would not have normally committed. In other words, you committed the crime because you were forced to commit it against your will.”
“Suppose,” Danny said, “some guys grab you and your wife and kids and tell you to go into the bank across the street and rob it and give them the money or they’ll kill your wife and kids right there. What would you do? – don’t answer that. You’d probably rob the bank and raise the defense of duress if you got arrested for the robbery.”
“I get it, but why are you telling me this?”
“We think,” George said, “you acted under duress – extreme duressduress of such a high level you feared for your life – that you acted under this duress when you killed Samuel Charles and your good cousin, Bob Willis.”
Jason opened his mouth as if to say something in protest, but then he closed it and swallowed hard. A tear rolled down his cheek and he laid his head on his folded arms and began to sob. Danny patted him on his shoulder and said, “Take your time, Jason.”
When Jason finished crying and raised his head, George offered him a glass of ice water which he took and he drank half of it down. “Do you want to tell us how you got forced into this terrible situation?” George asked, his hand lightly touching Jason’s arm.
Seizing on the salvation offered by the promise of the duress defense, Jason Morgan decided to spill his guts – his murder of Pop and Bob Willis – and the murder of at least a dozen other targets during the past months. He spoke without interruption for over three-quarters of an hour. They had many follow-up questions to ask him, but one of those questions – “Why did you do it?” – would not be asked. This was not the time for philosophical judgments – this was the time to get as much information as they could to locate and arrest other members of the Romen Society. Unfortunately, there was not much to be learned.
“You don’t know where any of your group lives now?” Danny asked. “You don’t know where Mark is?”
“No, we all had to re-locate in a hurry after we discovered Sam was probably an undercover a cop and…”
“How will you let Mark know where you are? How will the others?”
“We’re all supposed to be in our new places by the end of this week. He’ll call us on our cell phones and get our new addresses. Then he’ll probably call a meeting of the seven of us at his new place.”
“Why the meeting?”
“The third campaign is about ready to begin and we have to be briefed.”
“Do you know the target this time?” George asked.
“No, but the campaign will probably start just as the first two did.”
“Tell us.”
“The Savior kills the first target – some big shot. Then he e-mails the pictures of the murder to the twelve apostles along with their assigned target
s. Then the apostles e-mail us the pictures of their murders and give us our instructions.”
“How many apostles do you know?” Danny asked.
“Mark, or course, and Joseph – he’s from Philly, I think.”
“Do you know the names of the others?”
“Sure – Andrew, Paul, Peter, Matthew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Thaddeus and Simon.”
“But not their whereabouts?”
“No, they constantly move, as we all do.”
“Anything else you'd like to add to what you told us?” George asked.
“No. I believe I told you everything – and I told you the truth.”
“Thanks, we appreciate your honesty. Relax awhile. We’ll have your interview typed up for you to look over and sign. It will take some time.”
“I guess I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
Danny and George joined the rest of the team and Carl said, “Congratulations you two – a great job. We almost collapsed when he started talking.”
“You?” George said. “I damn near pissed my pants!”
“I hate to be a party pooper,” John said, “but what have we gained?”
“You gotta be kidding,” Nick said. “We got Pop’s killer and a confessed multiple-murderer.”
“Who actually could raise a defense of duress, and who was unable to tell us the whereabouts of one other single member of the Romens.”
A hush came over the group as that fact sunk in – they were right back to square one. “Let’s call Harry and Walt and let them know what’s going on,” Carl said.
Walt came into the conference room and Harry was on the speaker phone. After the briefing, Walt said, “That duress defense may work on Pop and Bob Willis’s murders – I mean those two apostles were standing right there with drawn guns – but I doubt it will work for the other dozen or so innocent civilians he killed before that. Lock him up and let the world know we finally got someone on this case.”
“I have a different suggestion,” Harry said. “Let him go.”
