The Indictments

by William Eleazer

  “Jen, I love you. Do you believe me?”

  “Of course I believe you.” Jennifer looked at the clock by her bed. It was after 1:00 a.m. She knew from the sound of Scott’s voice that this was not a call just to tell her he loved her. Something was wrong.

  “Scott, are you alright?”

  “I … I think so.”

  “You think so. Scott. Something is wrong. What is it?”

  “I guess I’m upset. Something happened. I’ll be OK. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Scott, you are scaring me. What happened?”

  “I’m really not sure. It was so sudden. I was going to call the police, but I wanted to hear your voice first.”

  “Scott, are you going to tell me?” Scott did not immediately reply.

  “I’m coming over.”

  “I’m telling you—I love you.” Jennifer did not hear him. She had hung up and was already on her way.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  In less than fifteen minutes, Jennifer was at Scott’s apartment. He opened the door and embraced her, holding her tight without a word for several minutes. Then they sat down on the couch together, where Scott related the entire episode.

  Jennifer seemed shocked as he recalled the details of the abduction, but she listened without interruption. When he got to the part where Voss had thrown the pistol into the shrubbery, she finally spoke.

  “Scott, is the gun still out there?”

  “It is,” he replied. “And I better go get it; we can’t leave it there.”

  Scott grabbed a flashlight and a paper towel and went to retrieve the weapon before one of his neighbors could happen upon it.

  He placed the pistol, an automatic, on his small dining table. Scott could not determine the caliber. A magazine was inserted, but he did not know if it was loaded, and he did not want to check—best to leave it undisturbed for the forensic team.

  Now safely back in his apartment and in the company of Jennifer, Scott was slowly beginning to feel more calm and composed. He held Jennifer’s hand in his and laid his head back on the couch, his eyes closed.

  “Would you like me to call the police for you, Scott? I know enough to make the report.”

  Scott sat up. “I’m not sure I’m going to make a report.”

  Jennifer gave Scott an incredulous look. “Are you serious? You are not going to report this?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why, Scott? He kidnapped you. That’s a serious crime.”

  “And maybe that’s why I’m not going to report it.”

  Jennifer frowned.

  “Kidnapping is a ‘violent felony’ under Georgia law. Conviction mandates at least a ten-year prison sentence. Ten years, Jennifer. No probation and no less than ten years. A judge would have no choice, but I do. And in this case I know the facts better than any judge or jury ever will. I can’t do that to this man. Yes, I would have killed him without regret two hours ago. But I just can’t do it now—lost his only son and his only daughter, and I’m going to kick him again with ten years in prison?”

  Jennifer did not respond, and Scott continued.

  “I made what I thought was a neat legal argument Thursday for the dismissal of that indictment. I wanted it on the record. I wanted Moose to read it. I wanted the DA to read it. I wanted to make sure that no one could associate me with that stupid felony murder indictment. I was really proud of myself. And while I was giving my clever little speech, Daniel Voss was listening to every word. He had come to see the man, who in his mind was responsible for his daughter’s death, arraigned to face justice. And there I was, destroying all hope for him. Bill Baldwin was sitting next to him as I spoke. You know what Bill told me?”

  “Well, of course I don’t, but Scott—please—go ahead.”

  “That tears were flowing down that big man’s cheeks. Bill gave him a handkerchief, and Voss wiped his eyes and said, ‘If he had just not moved, Angela would still be here.’ Then he cried out her name. And he was right. If Donaway hadn’t tried to be a front-page hero, Angela would be alive. There should be a felony called first-degree stupidity—that’s the real crime he committed. And there was something else that Bill told me. He said Voss recalled that I promised to get the man who did this. And the night Angela was killed—I promised him just that. Of course I meant the robber, but to Voss, there was someone else also responsible: Donaway—and I’m the guy who argued to let him go free.”

  Scott paused for a moment, then stood, massaging a dull pain at his temples. He turned to face Jennifer. “But what bothers me most right now is that there still are no clues as to who committed that robbery, and I may never be able to keep my promise.”

  “Is that what you are hearing from the investigation—no clues? None?”

  Scott sat back down on the couch. “None,” he said. He paused again. He seemed to stare blankly across the room, but Jennifer saw that he was in deep thought.

  Finally Scott spoke. “Baldwin also told me something a few days ago that’s been going through my mind ever since. He said John Harrison had been spotted somewhere near Tybee Island. I’ve been wondering, could it be possible that he was involved in the Toussaint’s robbery? But nothing seems to connect them. His MO was always the same—pick an isolated convenience store late at night. This robbery was at a busy restaurant, in the early evening. Doesn’t fit.”

  “How about the type of weapons?”

  “That doesn’t fit either. Harrison used a .38 revolver for his robberies. The guy at Toussaint’s was carrying a small automatic. Maybe I keep thinking about it because I would like it to be Harrison.”

  “And you would like another chance to put him away?”

  Scott did not respond, but the very thought of that possibility brought a broad smile to his face—his first smile of the night.

  “Of course,” he said finally. “I’d be first in line. But I expect to try anybody they arrest for this murder. It’s my case.”

  “Your case but with no defendant.”

  “You’re right. No defendant—yet—but let me run this by you: the cashier, you know, was shot and blinded. She was in critical condition and the detectives weren’t able to interview her until a few days ago. Majewski sent me her statement. I read it just this morning. Her vision was affected but not her memory. She recalls much of what happened and what the robber said to her. One thing she remembers was that he said, ‘Place the cash in this bag. That includes all bills, coins, and rolls of coins.’ How many robbers do you suppose say ‘place’ instead of ‘put’? And how many robbers would say ‘rolls of coins’? Those are the same words Harrison used when he robbed Fast Eddie’s.”

  “Did you tell Majewski about this?”

  “No, not yet. Connecting Harrison to this crime hadn’t crossed my mind, even when Baldwin told me he was living at Tybee Island. That, and these common words are all I have. I need more before talking to Majewski—he would suspect I just had it in for Harrison because he got away. Well, he would be partially right—I do have it in for Harrison. But these words are all I have now.”

  “I think they are enough, Scott. You should let Majewski know.”

  Scott was silent for a long moment. “You’re right. They could put them in their mix, take a look at where he’s been, where he goes, and what he does. Check gun dealers and see if he’s made a purchase. I will pass it on to Majewski.”

  “And you are not calling the police to report what happened tonight? Is that final?”

  “Well for now, yes, but I’ll think about it and decide in the morning. Right now I’m pretty exhausted.” Scott looked at his watch. “It’s almost three. And we’re leaving for Hilton Head later this morning.”

  “Then let’s get some sleep.” Jennifer rose from the sofa, reached for Scott’s hand, and pulled him up. “I’m staying with you tonight. And yes, I know you love me.”

  ****

  Scott slept until 8:00 a.m., then, half awake, made his usual pot of coffee. Jennifer was still sle
eping. He sat down at his dining table and stared at Daniel Voss’s pistol. Scott looked at it, realizing that if he was ever going to report his abduction to the Metro Police, the time was now.

  It was a decision he would have to make alone, and it had not become any easier after getting some sleep. They would be leaving for Hilton Head soon, so it could not wait. As he sat staring at the pistol, he made his decision.

  He would not make that phone call. It would not be reported. And since there would be no forensic team examining the pistol, he would check now to see if it was loaded.

  It wasn’t. The magazine was empty, and there was no round in the chamber.

  ****

  Scott and Jennifer left for Hilton Head a little after ten. Jennifer had promised her mom they would be there for lunch, and even with a leisurely drive, they had ample time. They crossed the Savannah River on Talmadge Memorial Bridge and followed US 17 to the state road they always used as a shortcut to Hilton Head. It was a beautiful Saturday morning with little traffic, and the ride through the countryside provided Scott the emotional and physical rest he needed after the previous evening. They did not talk about it, but Scott knew some things should be discussed before they arrived at Jennifer’s parents’ house.

  “Jen, I want you to know that my decision not to report my abduction was tougher than I let on. And I had doubts myself, even this morning. It really wasn’t until I checked the pistol and found it was not loaded that I was completely satisfied with my decision.”

  “Scott, I know why you are not reporting Voss. And I love you for it. I don’t think I could be as forgiving, but I think you’re right.”

  “ I’m not sure others would agree. In fact, I’m sure some would find it foolish—and perhaps unprofessional, considering my job. But I’ve made the decision. And only you and I know—and I also know you can keep this between us—and only us.”

  “If that’s what you want, then you have it.” Jennifer looked away from the road and smiled at him. “And as I said, I love you for it.”

  Scott was silent for a long moment. “I don’t think Voss will go around telling anyone that he abducted and frightened the hell out of an assistant DA, but if we hear it from anyone else, we’ll know who revealed it. Now, I just hope Majewski and his team can get something going with the investigation. I called him this morning while you were still sleeping. I told him I had a hunch about a possible suspect in the Toussaint’s case. He said he would stop by Monday morning to discuss it. So until then, I’m wiping this whole case—and the past 12 hours—from my mind. I’m really looking forward to your mom’s cooking.”

  Scott turned to Jennifer laughing. “And no, Jen, that doesn’t mean yours is not just as good.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  October 29, 2007

  Shortly before 9:00 a.m. Monday morning, Detective Majewski walked down a corridor of the DA’s office on his way to see Scott Marino. He had walked that corridor—and all the other corridors in the DA’s office—many times during his twenty-seven years with the Metro Police. Usually he was bringing new and important information to discuss with a prosecutor—forensic reports, new witness interviews, or perhaps a hot lead on a cold case. This time he had nothing. He was there because Scott Marino wanted to discuss a possible suspect in the Toussaint’s restaurant shooting, and nothing interested him more.

  Majewski found Scott’s door open and peered in. Scott was on the phone but motioned him to take a seat. Scott soon hung up.

  “That was Bill Baldwin. I called to see if he had any more John Harrison sightings. He didn’t, but he assured me his source was trustworthy; and he had confirmation Harrison was living on Tybee Island.”

  “And you believe Harrison may be connected to the Toussaint’s murder?”

  “I’m not sure ‘believe’ is the word—just a hunch.” Scott explained a bit apologetically that it was based on the word choice during the robbery. Then he added, “And he fits the general physical profile given by the witnesses—race and height. That, and the fact that John Harrison has proved he’s capable of committing armed robbery.”

  Majewski removed a pen and small pad from his pocket and made a few notes.

  “I’m sorry there really isn’t anything else, John. Other than the fact that the robber, like Harrison, is probably right-handed—he held the pistol in his right hand, for whatever that’s worth.”

  “Well, knowing both are right-handed is worth something. It means he’s not eliminated—puts him in the mix with ninety percent of the population. Add everything together and we don’t have much, I agree, but it doesn’t take much to interest me now. This investigation is going nowhere, and we’re a month into it. So, my guys will be pleased to get this information. We’ll check on gun purchases. If he bought the pistol from a gun store, that’ll be easy to check. But you say he’s a smart guy, and smart guys buy their weapons off the street.”

  Majewski shifted in his seat, thinking for a moment before continuing. “There’s something else we can do. We have several witnesses who heard the robber speak. We can put together a voice lineup—something like a photo lineup. Could you get me a copy of the audio transcript of Harrison’s testimony from his recent trial?”

  “He didn’t testify at that trial—or at the first trial in Savannah. He did at his other trials in Florida and south Georgia. But I’d be very surprised if any of those audio tapes were saved; they were all acquittals.”

  “Do you know the counties where he was tried?” Majewski asked.

  “Not off hand, but I can dig it up.”

  “That’s OK. We’ll have it somewhere in our files. I’ll pull it,” Majewski said.

  “If you find a voice recording of Harrison, give me a call before you let any of the witnesses hear it,” Scott said. “We need to make sure we do it right. You can be sure that if you get a voice ID from anyone and it eventually goes to trial, the defense will claim it was … well, the boilerplate claim is that it was ‘impermissibly suggestive.’”

  “Yeah, we ran into that recently with a photo lineup. One of my guys conducted it. The judge let it in, but it’s on appeal. What do you have in mind for a voice lineup?”

  “Probably nothing more than what you would do without my advice, but since you asked, we’ll need four or five additional male voices,” Scott said. “They should be same age and same education and geographical background. Harrison was an Ivy Leaguer—a Georgia born and bred guy who went to Princeton. Also, if you can get a voice transcript from one of his old trials—and I’m pretty sure you can’t—borrow the machine that recorded it. All the voices should be recorded on the same machine Harrison’s voice was recorded on. We can go over the actual voice ID procedure when and if the time comes. What’s Mildred Thompson’s condition? She had more voice contact with the robber than anyone.”

  “For what she went through, she’s doing fairly well,” said Majewski. “She’ll be in rehab for a while, but her motor skills are improving. She can walk, but being totally blind so recently, she needs assistance getting around. Her mind is strong though. She’s the best witness we have as to what happened that night.”

  “How about the other witnesses—Donaway, and Daniel Voss and his wife?”

  “Of course, we can’t talk to Donaway unless his attorney is present, but they’ve been fully cooperative—except anything about the silencer is off limits. I haven’t talked to him lately. I heard him on his radio show Thursday and again Friday, spouting off about his felony murder charge being dismissed. He seems to think it’s something like a badge of honor. Claims he was risking his life to stop a robbery. He hasn’t talked much about the consequences of his act.”

  “Yeah, his stupid act. Has he said anything about the silencer charge?”

  “Not that I’ve heard. What’s he going to do about that one? Go to trial?”

  “Don’t know. He pleaded not guilty, and his lawyer, Samarkos, immediately asked what kind of deal we were prepared to offer. I had no deal then and still don
’t. I really don’t know what to recommend on that one. I asked Moose for advice, but so far he hasn’t given any. I’m sure he’ll run it by the DA. We’re talking about a guy who sits behind a microphone every day, talking to a half-million staunch supporters who think everyone should own a pistol—and a silencer if they choose to. I’m not attuned to politics enough to know how it fits into the sentencing equation, but I’m sure the DA does. What do you hear from Voss and his wife?”

  “Not much. I interviewed them twice during the first week of the investigation and again just a week ago. Daniel Voss was still grieving badly—couldn’t talk about it without getting emotional. But nothing new. They didn’t see or hear much, but what they did see and hear is frozen in their minds. Which may be bad in the long run. For Daniel especially. It will be a long time before he has any personal peace. He calls me every few days to see if we have anything new. I tell him I’ll call when I do, but he still calls.”

  “Have you heard from Daniel since Donaway’s felony murder charge was dismissed?”

  “No, but I’m sure I’ll hear from him this week.”

  “If he says anything about it, please let me know.”

  “Will do. And I’ll let you know if I get an audio tape from one of those earlier trials. I should have a report on any gun shop purchases soon, but I’m not expecting anything. That’s not where robbers go to buy their weapons—it’s where wives go when they want to kill their husbands. But we’ll check them out.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask, John—have there been any other similar robberies in the area?”

  “Nope. No restaurant robberies and no ski-mask robberies. Of course we’ve had the usual number of small-shop and street robberies, but nothing that we see similar to Toussaint’s. And we’ve checked all the adjacent counties and over into South Carolina.”