Terminal 9

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “Great. Thanks, Mrs. Cohen. We’ll exercise due caution and take him in now. I’ll be in contact with you. And Mrs. Cohen?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re doing the right thing.”

  “I hope so.”

  Philly ended the call. “He’s walking toward the tracks. I assume you two know what he looks like.”

  “Yeah,” Dana replied. “Sounds like he’s wearing the same clothes as the night we apprehended him.”

  “Okay, let’s do this.” Philly pulled out and headed toward the highway.

  Mac spotted Cohen ambling along the highway, head down and hands in his pockets. Philly pulled up past Tyler and parked the car on the shoulder. Mac and Dana came in behind him, skidding to a stop on the asphalt before exiting their car.

  “Hold it right there, buddy,” Philly yelled to him. “State Police, get down on your knees.”

  Cohen looked past Philly and Russ, then to his right, looking for an escape route. Philly recognized the ten-mile stare, giving him a second warning. “Get down on the ground. Don’t make me put hands on you, son.”

  Cohen took two steps backward, then spun around. Seeing Mac and Dana, he stopped cold.

  Mac and Dana fanned out to block his path. Tyler hesitated briefly to weigh his options, then he put his hands in the air and dropped to his knees.

  “Down on your belly,” Dana yelled, keeping her right hand on her expandable baton. “Now bring your hands out, palms up. And look away from me!”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Cohen yelled back. “Don’t let her hit me with that thing!”

  Philly winked at Dana as he approached Cohen. “So you’ve met Detective Bennett before?” He handcuffed Tyler and helped him to his feet. “You’re under arrest on authority of a Fail to Appear bench warrant issued by Columbia County. Do you understand that?”

  “Yeah, I understand. Just keep her away from me.”

  “Her? As in this lovely young female detective?” Philly asked, trying to look serious.

  “Why did you think I stopped? I knew I could smoke you two. But not her.”

  “What do you mean?” Philly growled. “I would have had you in ten steps.”

  Cohen looked Philly up and down. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

  “Any more comments?” Philly cinched the cuffs a little tighter, maybe a little too tight, before double-locking them. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” Philly finished the Miranda rights as he walked Tyler to the police car. “You understand these rights, Carl Lewis?”

  “Who’s Carl Lewis?”

  “You know, the Olympic sprinter who won all the gold medals in the eighties.”

  “I must have missed that one. I didn’t watch too much television when I was learning to crawl,” Cohen sneered.

  “He was one of the fastest guys in the world.”

  Philly opted to let Mac and Dana handle Cohen’s interview while he and Russ headed back over to search Cohen’s place while the boy’s parents were still cooperating.

  “Okay,Tyler. Looks like you’ll be coming with us,” Mac said.

  “We’re going to run you over to the district attorney’s office and have ourselves a little chat before we go by the jail.” Dana’s tone was warm and friendly. “Are you okay with that?”

  “As long as you keep that stick away from me.”

  Dana smiled. “Sure. Just don’t try any funny stuff.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Here, let me loosen those cuffs for you.” Dana adjusted the cuffs before guiding Tyler into the backseat of the car.

  “Thanks, I appreciate that. I like you a lot better when you’re not hitting me.”

  “Thank you, Tyler.” Dana’s dimples deepened. “How about we start all over. You know there’s more to that story. I seem to remember a garbage can lid and a foot chase through the dark after one of us was caught committing a felony.”

  Mac and Dana transported Tyler back to the same interview room they’d used the first time they’d arrested him. They offered him a soda and moved his cuffs to the front so he’d be more comfortable. After the formalities, Mac began to question Cohen about his whereabouts during the past few days and went over some of the same questions that were covered during the first interview, specifically the insulin kit he had stolen from the house. Cohen’s story remained consistent on the burglary. He admitted to being a user. “I was just doing pot at first and then my buddies scored some heroin. We got a steady supply and, man, I tried to quit a couple of times, but . . . it ain’t that simple.”

  “No it isn’t.” Mac felt sorry for the kid. “You admit to being at the Mullins’s place the night of March fifth.”

  “Yeah.” Tyler stared at a spot on the floor. “I already said I took the bag. That’s all I did.”

  “What about later that night after you were released? Did you go back to the house and set fire to it?”

  He frowned. “No, man. Why would I do that?”

  Mac shrugged. “Why did you break in? Why do you do drugs?”

  “I didn’t torch the place,”Tyler insisted.

  Mac leaned back and folded his arms. “Did you know Jacob Mullins?”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “His body was found in the house after the fire.”

  Tyler’s eyes widened. “I don’t know nothin’ about that. I didn’t start the fire. I wasn’t even there.”

  Mac almost believed him, but the kid was hiding something. His line of questioning wasn’t producing, so he turned to Dana. “Do you have any questions for Tyler?”

  She nodded. “Do you want help for your addiction?”

  “Maybe. My mom set up an appointment at a clinic in Portland a couple of weeks ago, but I didn’t go.Maybe I will this time.”

  “They can treat you at the Oregon Youth Authority facilities too, you know.” Dana set her pen down and folded her hands.

  “You saying that’s where I’m gonna end up?”Tyler almost looked worried.

  “Might be a good thing if you did,Tyler.Maybe getting arrested today will turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to you. I’ve seen a lot of kids wind up in the morgue because of drugs. We saw one today.”

  “The O.Y.A. ain’t worth spit. I don’t want to go to no boot camp.

  I can take care of myself. What kind of time am I looking at for the burglary?”

  “Depends on your priors. You could easily stay in custody until you’re twenty-one.”

  “Twenty-one? No way.” He started bouncing his knee and tapping his foot on the floor. “I can’t do that kind of time. It ain’t fair.” He took a long drink of soda, his brows knitted in a frown.

  “I hear you guys sometimes make deals,” he finally said.

  “That’s up to the D.A.,” Dana told him.

  “Yeah, well, what if I can tell you who torched the old guy’s house?”

  Dana raised her eyebrows. “What do you think, Mac? Can we cut a deal?”

  Mac came away from the wall. “Maybe, but if you had anything to do with the fire . . .”

  “I didn’t,”Tyler interrupted. “I already told you. But what if I can help you guys catch the dude that did?”

  “Then we’d be very interested in what you have to say.” Mac pulled out a chair and sat down next to Tyler.

  “I got to know right now if you can drop the charges. I mean, it was just a worthless old bag that I stole, and I answered your questions the last time. And I’m going to need help getting out of town.”

  “Why out of town?” Dana asked.

  “Cause, if this guy finds out I smoked him, I’m dead meat.”

  “We don’t have the authority to make those deals,” Mac told him. “We have to consult the D.A.”

  “Then consult him or do whatever you have to do before I change my mind.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  MAC LEFT DANA WITH THEIR JUVENILE DELINQUENT and jogged up the stairs to find Darren Volk, hopin
g he was close by so they could make some kind of deal once he heard Tyler’s story. He found Darren in the law library, studying from one of the large Oregon Revised Statute books.

  “Darren,” Mac puffed. “We may have a break in the Jacob Mullins murder.”

  “Really?” Darren slapped the heavy book shut and pulled off his glasses. “What is it?”

  “We picked up Tyler Cohen today, the burglar who hit Clay’s house before it burned. More importantly, the burglar who inadvertently saved our ricin sample for analysis.”

  “What did he say about the arson fire? Do you think he set it?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s clammed up and won’t say a word unless you’re present. He said he can help us with the case but wants to cut a deal on the burglary charges.”

  “I’m not prepared to do that. The kid has had every opportunity, but didn’t even bother to make an appearance in court. He’s not getting off.”

  “I think he’s telling the truth,” Mac insisted. “I have a feeling he knows something. He strikes me as being scared but not necessarily afraid of us. I think you should come down. Talk to him yourself.”

  “He’s here now?” Darren stood up and adjusted his tie.

  “Downstairs in the interview room.”

  Darren sighed and plucked his briefcase off his desk. “All right. I’ll go hear what he has to say, but just for the record, I don’t like doing business this way.”

  Darren hurried down the stairs with Mac, pausing briefly before going inside. The D.A. seemed reluctant, and Mac thought it might be that as D.A., Darren had little experience with the rough interview process. He usually got the bad guys when the detectives were finished processing them, and when they were ready to face prosecution. Darren straightened his shoulders and stepped into the room.

  “Tyler,” Mac said, “this is Darren Volk, the Columbia County District Attorney. He’s the one with the authority to talk deals when it comes to your burglary charge.”

  “Yes, we’ve met. Hello again, Tyler.” Darren took a seat next to Dana, set his briefcase on the table, and pulled out a pad.

  “Hey,” Cohen greeted. “So what do I do now? I’m not just taking your word for anything.”

  Mac glanced at his partner and slid into the only other empty seat across from Tyler.

  Dana pulled the pad she’d been writing on toward her and noted that the D.A. was talking to Cohen.

  “What kind of information do you think you have for us?” Volk asked.

  “I can tell you who blazed that old dude’s house by the terminal. He probably killed the guy inside too.”

  “Assuming you have some information, and assuming I’m willing to help you, what exactly are you wanting me to do for you?”

  “I want the burglary charges dropped, a cash reward, and some transportation out of state. Preferably I’d like my own wheels, and my driver’s license suspension lifted.”

  Darren scooted back in his chair and Mac thought he might leave. “Your first request is an outside chance; the rest are laughable and beyond my authority. Even if I wanted to get you as far out of this county as possible, there’s no way.”

  “Suit yourself, dude. Good luck solving your case. According to the news on television, you got nothing so far.”

  Mac stood up and walked over on Cohen’s side of the table, eclipsing the single light in the small room. “Do you believe everything you see on television,Tyler?”

  “Enough to know you guys got nothing and need my help.”

  Mac laughed, irritated by the kid’s tough-guy attitude. “We don’t tell the media everything.” In a way Tyler was right. They had nothing with regard to the fire. He leaned on the table, closing in on the teenager. “You think we need your help, kid?” He made eye contact, and Tyler shifted his gaze to the table. “I think you need our help a whole lot more than we need yours, especially after I tell the media how you cooperated with us on our investigation. We’ll let the press know that you fingered certain people to cut yourself a sweet deal.”

  “You can’t do that.” Cohen leaned away from Mac. “That’s not true.”

  “Is that right?” Mac moved even closer. “I didn’t know there was a rule about hosing drug-dealing burglars. Might not be a bad idea for us to put the word out and let the consequences play out.”

  “What consequences?”

  Mac straightened and paced across the small office and back. “Let’s see. For starters, the district attorney here will send you to the big boy prison, not the minimum-security boot camp you scoffed at earlier. Somehow, I don’t think country club sentences are in order for you, Mr. Cohen.” Mac stopped behind Tyler’s chair. Tyler stared straight ahead. “How do you think you’ll get along in the joint? The guys in there eat your kind for breakfast. Of course you wouldn’t fare so well on the outside either, would you?”

  Mac eyed the D.A. “Maybe that’s what we should do,Mr. Volk. Let this character go and save the taxpayers’ money.” Turning back to Tyler he said, “The guy you refuse to name has killed already— what makes you think he won’t take you out too? I know the answers to all those questions. That’s why I’m so sure you need us more than we need you. You might want to think about that.” Mac went around to the other side of the table and leaned against the wall, hoping his little tirade had had the desired effect.

  Tyler clasped his hands, nervously brushing one thumb against the other. “How about the burglary charge? Can you at least help me out with that if I tell you who set the fire? And you gotta promise not to let the guy hurt me.”

  “That I may be willing to do,” Darren answered. “Providing your information serves the greater good for the citizens of this county.” Stern-faced, he added, “I want to be clear on this,Tyler. If and when I determine this is valuable information I’ll talk a deal with you. You have my word on that. But if you wait and drag this thing out, or if you lie to us and your negligence causes another person to be hurt or killed, then I’ll tack your hide to the wall. You have my word on that too.”

  Tyler frowned. Mac figured he was still trying to digest Volk’s avowal. “Okay. I’ll tell you what I know.”

  “Wise decision,” Mac said as he sat back down.

  Dana placed her briefcase on the table. Opening it, she pulled out a tape recorder. After briefing Tyler on the taping and getting his approval, Mac told him to start talking. “So, Tyler,” Mac went on. “Tell us why you didn’t make your court appearance.”

  “Yeah, well . . . I was planning on making my court appearance so I could get a court-appointed attorney.” He glanced at Dana. “No offense, but I was thinking about suing you guys for hitting me with that nightstick. You didn’t have to hit me so hard. I still got bruises.”

  Dana rolled her eyes. “Give me a break,Tyler.”

  “Uh—I figured it probably wouldn’t work, but . . .”

  “Very unlikely, but go on.” Darren folded his arms. “Could you get back to the subject please?”

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  “At the beginning,” Mac answered. “Start with what you did and where you went after you were released on your own recognizance from the jail, after your booking.”

  He frowned and leaned toward the tape recorder. “Okay. I’ve been doping pretty hard on the ecstasy and weed lately, then I started hitting some serious stuff like coke and black tar. I was pretty hard up for cash, so I needed to work some up. My lady and me were hoping to clean up and kick this dope life. I was looking to make one or two good scores and get out of town.

  “So I figured, you know, lightning never strikes twice. I went back to the old dude’s place and was gonna hit it again, thinking there’s no way the cops would be there two nights in a row. I heard there were some slick antiques and a coin collection stashed away in the house.

  “I was caught once so I figure, what are the odds of the cops being at the place a second time? I made sure they wouldn’t be there by calling 9-1-1 and reporting a man with a gun on the west
side of town, you know, so the cops would head out that way and leave the way clear for me to hit the house.”

  Smart move, Mac thought. With a small contingency of officers, a call like that would definitely take priority. He remembered thinking at the time of the fire that the call had been a little too convenient. “What time was that?” Mac asked.

  “Around midnight. Maybe a little after.”

  A little early, Mac noticed. If the call was bogus, why hadn’t the officer gone back to his watch right away? He made note to ask.

  “We can verify that, Darren,” Dana said. “Tyler’s account matches that of the officer I talked to at the fire scene. Plus, we can have Columbia County Communications check their tapes.” Turning to Tyler, she said, “Go on.”

  Tyler took a deep breath and continued rubbing his right thumb against his left. His right knee still pumped up and down. “I stayed down by the tracks for a few minutes to make sure there was nobody else around.”

  “Were you there alone?” Mac asked.

  He shot Mac an odd look. “I’m not saying.”

  “You don’t have a choice if you’re looking to deal. We need the truth,” Volk said.

  “Okay, but you gotta leave her out of this.”

  “Her?” Dana leaned forward.

  “My lady was lookin’ out for me. Only she never did anything wrong.”

  “What’s her name?” Mac demanded.

  “Mandy. Amanda’s her real name. Amanda Searles. She’s sixteen, been living with me in my camp down by the river at the old railroad bridge.”

  “Go ahead with your story. We’ll talk about your girlfriend later,”

  Mac said.

  “Mandy and me were sitting down by the water. I was about to make my move on the house when this set of headlights pulls in. They’re like twenty yards from us, and these two guys . . .”

  “What kind of car?” Mac asked.

  “A silver Lexus.”

  “Did you recognize the car?”

  “Yeah, I seen it around town. So the driver gets out and I recognize him right away. He’s the old guy’s lawyer.”

  “Addison Shaw?” Darren asked, breaking interview protocol by throwing out a name too soon.