“Well, it can’t hurt. Those photos identify the vehicle, but we need . . . what’s her new name? . . . eh, Glenna . . . we would have enough for a warrant if we could get her talking.”
“Well, I’m not through with Glenna, but she’s on hold right now, and I’m pretty much at a standstill. That’s why I’m going to take a swing by the lab in Decatur—just sit down with them and pick their brains.”
“Well, good luck. Keep me posted.”
❖ ❖ ❖
In the early afternoon, Carl met with his two friends, John Sokol and Patricia Toups, at the GBI Forensic Lab in Decatur. He had worked with both on previous cases, where they had testified as expert witnesses. He spent almost a half-hour explaining all that had taken place with this investigation. They appeared willing to help, in fact, anxious to help. It was a welcome break from the normal grind of the lab routine, a chance to play a different role in a criminal investigation.
When Carl completed his briefing, Sokol requested that he leave Glenna’s cell phone at the lab. He also had a question regarding the camera that was used to take the photo of the vehicle at Marino’s apartment complex. Carl did not have the answer but promised to get it. They shook hands, and Carl returned to his vehicle and placed a call to Majewski.
“John, the camera the patrolman used to take the photo of Marino’s Camaro—that was a digital camera, right?”
“Yes, that’s all we use now.”
“I need you to send the digital file to the Questioned Documents Section of the GBI lab in Decatur. I’ll text you a name and the email address.”
“What’s up, Carl? You’ve really stirred my curiosity.”
“I’m as curious as you are, John. I’m not sure it will mean anything. But one of my lab friends, John Sokol—he’s head of the Questioned Documents Section—asked for it. He didn’t say why, and I didn’t grill him on it. He also asked for Glenna’s cell phone. I had it with me and gave it to him. I’m not counting on anything coming out of this, but I need to spend some time on another pressing investigation, and I like to think someone else is working on this one in the meantime.”
“You seem to always have a pressing investigation, Carl. What is it this time?”
“Corruption. County official accused of skimming county funds—using them to set up a playhouse on Tybee Beach for his girlfriend. Came to light via the girlfriend. Seems the place wasn’t as big and beautiful as he had promised. No good deed goes unpunished, you know.”
“So true. Same rule could be applied to your experience in agreeing to take this case.” Both laughed.
“I told my lab friend that you would get the digital file to him ASAP. I’ll get back to you with anything new.”
❖ ❖ ❖
About the time Carl was leaving the GBI Forensic Lab, Scott was in his office working on a case scheduled for trial the following week. His phone rang, and it was Bill Baldwin.
“Scott, I spent some time down at the Metro Police Department this morning, checking on that incident you said happened last Wednesday. Sorry, but I hit a blank wall.”
“And by blank wall you mean . . .?” Scott responded.
“I mean I came up with nothing, but I think there is something. I just couldn’t find it. As you know, I have a lot of contacts there, but none of my usual sources had heard anything about an incident at the Henry Grady Inn last Wednesday or any other time recently. So I went directly to the source of your concern, Michael Kohl. As soon as I mentioned the Henry Grady Inn, his chin jerked up and his eyes narrowed. Then he said, ‘That’s off limits.’ I said, ‘What do you mean, “off limits”? Did something happen there you can’t discuss?’ He just replied, ‘I said it’s off limits,’ and immediately turned and walked away. I didn’t mention your name to Kohl or any of the others I talked to down there, but I’m pretty sure that whatever Kohl was investigating is being held close. Have you heard anything new?”
“Nothing. I’m as much in the dark as when I spoke to you yesterday. But thanks for trying.”
“I’m not through. I have some other sources I may be able to tap later this week. I’ll let you know.”
“I appreciate your help, Bill, as always. Juri and I are going to leave in the early afternoon Saturday for the Braves game. I’m sure Juri can get you a good ticket—he seems to have a lot of sources. Are you sure you can’t make it? We plan on driving back afterwards—not spending the night.”
“Sounds like fun, but I simply can’t do it. Got lots of work still to do for the Sunday edition. Enjoy the game—and I hope, for Juri’s mental health, the Braves can get back on track with a win.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Wednesday, August 13
Shortly after 2:00 p.m., Carl received a phone call he wasn’t expecting, at least not so soon. It was from John Sokol.
“Carl, I have a report that I think you’ll find quite interesting. It’s about those two photos from your investigation. You told me you were having a hard time believing that young prosecutor—Marino, I believe you said his name was—would commit that assault, that you had worked with him and it simply was not believable. You sounded so positive about Marino’s character.”
“And I still am.”
“Yet, there were the photos—same vehicle driving away from the assault as the one photographed later in the parking lot. And in an interview Monday afternoon, Marino admitted both photos were of his Camaro. Right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Carl responded.
“I had a hunch. If with such compelling evidence, you—an experienced GBI special agent—still didn’t believe he did it, then maybe there’s a possibility that he didn’t. I wanted to try something. That’s why I requested the digital file from Savannah. I wanted to run both digital files through our Video Spectral Comparator. Are you familiar with that machine?”
“I’ve heard of it; not sure how it works.”
“It’s used primarily by forensic document examiners to detect forgeries, alterations, counterfeit items and such. It has an integrated micro spectrometer, and uses infrared, ultraviolet, and other light sources. Zoom magnification goes up to 175 times—all functions controlled by its built-in software, using a mouse and keyboard. Patricia operates it, and I can have her explain the more technical details if you are interested.”
“No, I’ll take your word—it’s advanced technology. I just want to know what it does and what it did—if anything—in my case.”
“OK, we’ll skip the tech details. In brief, what we can do with it is take two documents, compare them and tell you almost anything you want to know about them. To the naked eye—even the eye of an experienced document examiner—they may look identical, but put them in that machine, and multiple differences are often discovered. That’s what happened in your case.”
“What do you mean?”
“When Patricia analyzed the two photos, she found multiple differences.”
“Multiple differences? Like what?”
“Like you have photos of two completely different vehicles. Carl, someone obviously was trying to set up that young prosecutor.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wednesday, August 13
Carl was momentarily stunned. Two vehicles—someone trying to set up Marino. It took him a while to respond.
“But John, both had the same license plate.” And as soon as he said it, he wished he hadn’t. Of course, they had the same license plate number—that was obvious. He quickly followed up. “I’m really a bit lost for words, John. Not sure I can ask an intelligent question, so please, give me the details.”
“Well, I don’t know any of the details about any of the actors or how the scene at the Henry Grady Inn was put together, but it wasn’t with the vehicle that was photographed in the parking lot. The only thing that was the same was the license plate—the only identical thing in the two photos. My guess is that it was
removed from the Camaro in the owner’s parking lot and placed on the other vehicle, which was identical in color and style. To the naked eye, the same vehicle. In fact, you tell me that even the owner—Marino—said both photos were of his vehicle. But when analyzed in our lab, it was clear that the vehicles were different, only the license plate the same. That took some clever planning.”
“So I’ve been chasing my tail for three days. Anything else you can tell me about the analysis?”
“Yes, the tires. Both photos caught part of the right rear tire. I’m sure you know that we couldn’t just enlarge the photographs enough to identify the tread—it becomes distorted. But with the digital files, our machine can. We got images—not great, but good enough—to run in our TreadMate data base. You are familiar with TreadMate, aren’t you?”
“If that’s the computer program that can ID tire treads by manufacturer, yes. It was used in a homicide case we had in Effingham County a couple years ago. Was key evidence.”
“That’s it. We get a TreadMate update every three months. It has over five thousand vehicle tires in it now. Visually, with the images we produced from the digital files, we could see that the tires were different. But from the TreadMate computer search, we think we have the manufacturers of both tires. Can’t be completely certain—the images weren’t that good—but I’ll bet you a six-pack that Marino’s tire is a Michelin Precision Sport. And on the other vehicle, if you ever find it, will be a BFGoodrich tire. I don’t recall the model. But all of this will be in our report.”
“John, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. But I’m sure you know. When can I get that report?”
“Oh, it’s almost ready now. Everything is automated. All I need to do is slap a cover letter on it and email it to you.”
❖ ❖ ❖
As soon as he hung up with Sokol, Carl was on the phone with Frank Edwards.
“Frank, I’m calling for some more help with that Savannah assault case I’m investigating. We have a break in it, and I need to interview the girl again—ASAP.”
Edwards already knew about the first interview with Glenna. Carl had briefed him Tuesday. Carl explained the lab’s finding of the duplicate vehicle and how it was now obvious that Glenna was part of a scheme to set up Marino for a false arrest.
“I’m pretty sure Glenna Norris isn’t smart enough to plan it or put it all together. And I can’t see a motive for her. But she’ll know who did. I’m scheduled to be in Statesboro for the rest of the week. If you can pick her up, I’ll drop whatever I’m doing, hit I-16 and be there in three hours. You think you can bring her in?”
“No problem. One of our specialties. I’ll call as soon as we have her.”
❖ ❖ ❖
It took Edwards’ team less than three hours to locate Glenna and bring her in. He called Carl shortly after 5:00 p.m.
“Carl, we have your gal here at the CID Office. When do you want to interview her?”
“Tonight.” Carl looked at his watch. “I’ll be there about eight-thirty.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Wednesday, August 13
Carl arrived at 8:15 p.m. and was directed to a small, windowless room where he found Glenna alone, sitting in one of the three armless chairs. Besides the chairs and a small desk, the room was ringed with green metal file cabinets standing side by side against the walls. Glenna was reading from a paperback when Carl entered. She looked up at him but did not speak. Carl picked up one of the chairs and placed it a few feet directly in front of her and sat down.
“Glenna, I’m sure you remember me, Carl DeBickero of the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. We had a chat Monday night over at the Palomino Motel. I have more questions about the incident that you reported as having occurred at the Henry Grady Inn in Savannah. But first, let me tell you what I know about that incident. First, you made the report to the Savannah Metro Police. And second, we now know that your report was entirely false.”
Glenna jerked her shoulders and her eyes widened at the words, “entirely false.”
“I may or may not tell you how we know that, but just understand, we know it and we can prove it. And of course you know it. I understand now why you would not answer my questions the first time we talked. I could have arrested you then, but I didn’t because I wanted your cooperation. Now, I’m demanding your cooperation. Do you understand?”
Glenna did not respond but kept her eyes intensely on Carl.
“We have the evidence to put you away for a long time. But I don’t want to do that because I believe you were a small player in this plot. I want to know about the major players. But if you keep up that bullshit ‘I don’t know’ and ‘I forgot’ like you responded Monday night, we’ll just put you behind bars and forget about the ones who brought it on. Do you understand the situation you are in now?”
“I think so.”
“Do you know what a Miranda Warning is?”
“Uh . . . ” She looked apprehensively at Carl.
“Has any police office ever read the warning to you?”
“Once. Maybe twice.”
“Do you think you understand the rights it provides?”
“I think so.”
“You think so? Well, because it’s important that you know so, I’m going to explain them to you. And if you don’t understand something I say or it’s not clear, speak up. I want to make sure you understand.”
Carl removed a cassette player from his briefcase and placed it on the desk.
“I’m going to turn this cassette on. We will be recorded. Move your chair over closer to the recorder, and keep your voice up.”
Carl waited as Glenna moved her chair, then continued. “The time is 8:25 p.m., Wednesday, August 13, 2008. Speaking is Carl DeBickero, Special Agent with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. I am presently in an interview room at the CID Office of the Atlanta Police Department. With me is Glenna Norris. Is that your correct name, Ms. Norris?”
“Yes.”
“I am about to interview you regarding an incident you reported to the Savannah Metro Police last Wednesday night, August 6, 2008. Glenna, prior to my turning on this cassette, were you questioned tonight about this incident?”
Glenna did not respond. She looked confused. But Carl needed a response to avoid a complaint later that he questioned her regarding the event before warning her of her Miranda rights, and thus what she was saying on the cassette was merely a repeat.
“Tonight, prior to my turning on the cassette, did you tell me anything about the incident in Savannah that you reported to the Savannah police?”
“No.”
“I want you to listen to this, Glenna. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I just read to you?”
“Yes.”
“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”
“Yes, OK.”
“Glenna, last Wednesday you told a Savannah police officer that a man got out of a Camaro automobile and assaulted you by grabbing you by the arm as you sat on a bench next to Drayton Street. That was false, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to tell me the truth about what happened. The whole truth.”
“Um . . . I don’t know where you want me to start.”
“Well, let’s start with how you got to Savannah.”
“Ryan and Kevin, they drove me. I never was told their last names.”
“Last time I interviewed you, you said you went to Savannah with one man. So it was two?”
“Yes, two.”
“How did you meet them?”
“Ryan was . . . well, you know, a client—I met him a few months ago. Kevin was with him when he picked me u
p.”
“Picked you up? You mean for the trip to Savannah? Why were you going to Savannah?”
Glenna had been sitting on the front edge of her chair. With that question, she sat back quickly in the chair. Her eyes turned toward the ceiling and closed. She remained in that position for a long while without speaking.
Carl asked again, “Glenna, why were you going to Savannah?”
Glenna lowered her head and looked directly at Carl. “Ryan, he set it up, telling me there was a thing he called a ‘project’ in Savannah, said he could use my help. Then he told me there was ten thousand for me if I wanted in—would take a couple days. Didn’t say what it was or when. I told him I didn’t want nothing to do with any drug dealings. He said it didn’t involve drugs and wasn’t dangerous—just that I should be ready to go when he called. He still wouldn’t tell me what it was, but fuck it; I didn’t care. Ten thousand dollars? Two days? Of course I wanted in. That was about three weeks ago, and when he called last Tuesday, I was ready.”
“So what happened after that phone call?”
“I told Ryan I wanted the money before we left for Savannah. He agreed to pay half up front and half after we finished the job. He picked me up Wednesday and he had the cash—five thousand in big bills. I counted it out and hid it at my place. Then we left for Savannah. Ryan was driving, and Kevin was up front with him. This was the first time I ever met Kevin, but he seemed to be in charge. On the way he told me what I was to do and say when we got there. We stopped at a fast food place, and then they checked me in at this little motel or inn or whatever. I guess it was about seven o’clock. They told me to stay in my room until they got back.”
Carl noticed that she seemed more comfortable responding to him than at first. “Did they say where they were going?” he asked.
“Nope. And they didn’t get a room there either. I don’t know where they went. I didn’t see them again until sometime after ten o’clock. They came to my room and we went over again what I was to do. Then we went outside. Ryan’s car was parked on the street in front of the place. They had a cell phone and took a picture of the back of the car. They checked to see if it was a good photo, then gave me the cell phone. Ryan got into the driver’s seat and Kevin got in the back seat and got down, hiding. I sat down on the bench and did exactly what they had planned.”
The Two-Witness Rule: A Novel Page 11
