Terror on the Way

by Ron Finch

  “What’s a policeman from somewhere in Ontario phoning me for at this time of the day?” Stokes asked in a gravelly voice. “You’re lucky you phoned me now. You wouldn’t get me after 9:30.”

  That’s when I realized I’d better start checking the time zone of the location I was calling. Oh well, at least I hadn’t phoned his home number when I’d gotten up this morning at seven.

  “If you’ll listen to me for a minute, sir, I’ll read an excerpt from a story in the Toronto Star. I’m wondering if you’ve had a similar murder in the past year in your city?”

  I read the story and when I finished there was a period of silence followed by, “I don’t believe it!” shouted by Stokes.

  “This description is almost identical to a murder that happened here in Calgary about the middle of July. At least that maniac has apparently moved away from Calgary.”

  I told Mr. Stokes that Det. William Fredericks of the Toronto Police Force was the man in charge of the Toronto investigation, and I suggested he call the detective as soon as he could.

  WHEN THEY BROUGHT JOHNNIE Smith into the chief’s office for the interview, I could immediately tell why Chief Petrovic didn’t like him. Whether it was his attitude or just the result of his inherited physiognomy, Johnnie appeared to be constantly sneering.

  “Good afternoon, Johnnie,” said Chief Petrovic. “We’ve finished interviewing everyone else. We did second interviews this morning. Constables Franklin and Herman did the interviews of Gary Alexander and Jim Pope.”

  I could tell from the chief’s voice that he was hoping Johnnie would be surprised that we now had all eight of the local thieves in custody. And it seemed to work, because even though Johnny’s sneer remained, he raised his eyebrows and appeared slightly startled.

  “So, we have all the information we need,” said the chief, “about the local operation. The only question left is whether you contacted the guys in London or if they contacted you. From our other interviews we know you were the connection between the local men and the London criminals.

  “If you help us, then I think things will be much better for you. I think it’s a real advantage for you to be in jail here. The London Jail is nice, but not near as pleasant as our local accommodation.”

  “If I may, Chief,” I said, “I’d like to pass on a message to Johnnie.”

  The chief looked at me wonderingly. He had no idea what I was talking about. “Go right ahead, Cst. Franklin,” he said gruffly.

  “Lenny Hutchinson says to say hi to you,” I said. “Do you remember Lenny? He’s a big, rugged-looking guy. I think he’s done lots of time. He’s not happy with you. He says he’ll settle things with you once you get to London.”

  My little speech got quite a reaction. The sneer didn’t disappear, so I guessed it was a permanent feature of Johnnie’s face, but he turned almost white and put his head down.

  Chief Petrovic smiled. He had picked up on my ruse, so he proceeded to say, “This is your chance, Johnnie. You can talk to us, or you can explain things to Lenny.”

  Johnnie was momentarily nonplussed.

  “Are we done here?” asked the chief tersely.

  “Nuh, no, ah ... what are your questions?” said Johnnie.

  It only took about ten minutes for Johnnie to fill us in.

  Johnnie told us how he had met Lenny at a bar in London when he had gone down to visit a friend a few months ago. He had been very angry with the management of the furniture factories. Johnnie had been sitting at a table in the bar, complaining about how the guys with all the money didn’t seem to care about the people they employed that were just trying to earn a living. He’d said – loud enough for anybody in the bar to hear – that there was going to be a strike. He’d said trouble was brewing in Chaseford.

  After every drink, he’d gotten louder, and finally this big guy, who had been sitting at a different table, had heard him and come over. He’d introduced himself as Lenny Hutchinson and had said that he couldn’t help but overhear what Johnnie had been saying. He’d said, ‘I can provide you with an opportunity to pay back those fat cats.’

  Johnnie had been momentarily puzzled because he’d never heard that expression before. Lenny had explained it to him and had told Johnnie – who had been very inebriated – that he would become a local hero, just like Robin Hood.

  When Johnnie finished, he looked at Chief Petrovic, Cst. Herman, and me and said, “I was trying to do what I thought was right, but I know it was wrong.”

  Wednesday, November 22nd

  WHEN I PEEKED IN THE chief’s office door this morning, I noticed the furniture had been rearranged again. He looked up and noticed me.

  “There’s going to be another meeting today at 2 o’clock with the furniture factory managers,” he said, the hint of a frown on his forehead. “If this had been a simple case of theft, once we’d caught the thieves, our job would be over. But this situation is different. This time, we have done our job successfully as policemen, but there are a lot of political and public perception factors to consider.”

  I didn’t know what to say because I wasn’t certain what the chief was talking about. The political part of his job was something I didn’t envy him.

  “Is there anything I can do to help today?” I asked.

  “Nothing at the moment, Joel,” he replied. “However, I do expect the four of you to attend the meeting as quiet observers.”

  When I left, the chief was busy writing notes, likely in preparation for this afternoon’s meeting.

  I’D JUST ARRIVED BACK at the police station from rescuing Mrs. Samber’s cat Troublemaker from the tree in her backyard.

  While I was hanging up my jacket, I heard badly imitated cat meows coming from the next hallway. This was accompanied by a tiny voice saying, “help me, help me!” This was the standard welcome back we all received each time someone had to rescue Mrs. Sambar’s renowned cat Troublemaker.

  Before I could investigate the adjacent hallway and attempt to rescue this other poor kitten – or confront the comic – I heard the telephone ring in Chief Petrovic’s office.

  “I think he’s here somewhere,” said the chief. Then he hollered, “Joel! Please take the phone! It’s a detective calling from the Toronto Police Force. I think he said his name was Fred Williams.”

  I picked up the telephone and said, “Hello, this is Cst. Joel Franklin speaking.”

  The man on the other end of the line said, “This is Det. William Fredericks from the Toronto Police Force. Are you the young man that called the Calgary Daily Herald and spoke to – I believe it was – Marvin Stokes, who is the editor-in-chief?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  “You’re making me very suspicious,” said Det. Fredericks. “As astounded as Mr. Stokes was by your call, and by the amazing coincidence between the two murder cases, Mr. Stokes had no idea why you had phoned him. What’s the story?”

  “It is a lengthy story, sir.”

  “I’m a patient man, Cst. Franklin. I have to be. I’m a detective,” said Det. Fredericks.

  “I don’t know what you’ve heard about the case we had in Chaseford a few months ago. Involving body parts.”

  “Oh, I heard about it,” said Det. Fredericks. “That story was in all the Toronto papers. It was a sensational case. Your police department did a great deal of very good work in that investigation.”

  I smiled. “When we finish talking, would you please tell the chief that? He’s having a tough day. And that means we might have a tough day.”

  I could hear laughter at the other end of the line.

  “It sounds like police chiefs are the same everywhere,” said Det. Fredericks. “I’ll bet the big problem today is politics.”

  “It certainly is,” I said. “We just caught the criminals involved in an important local case – all local boys – and now the chief has to work out the politics.”

  “That’s one of the major jobs of a police chief,” said Det. Fredericks. “Now, let’s get back to
your explanation as to why you called a newspaper editor, Marvin Stokes, in Calgary.”

  “When we were working on the body parts case in Chaseford, it was my good fortune to meet Dr. Khryscoff. He’s an eminent psychiatrist.”

  “I’ve met Dr. Khryscoff,” said Det. Fredericks. “He’s helped the Toronto Police out on a few occasions.”

  “I assisted Dr. Khryscoff in interviewing the killer a few months ago,” I continued. “The killer was clearly deranged, and by the end of the interview, Dr. Khryscoff seemed to think I had a special aptitude for talking to the criminally insane. As a result, he invited me to meet with him monthly to discuss the criminal acts of the insane and how to recognize aberrant behaviour. When the doctor and I last met, on November 8th, we discussed psychopathic behaviour. When I read the Toronto Star last Saturday morning, and saw the story of the murder of Ethel Waters, I immediately thought, ‘this is not an isolated incident.’ It was characteristic of someone who commits ritual murders, a type Dr. Khryscoff and I had talked about. The best hunting grounds for this type of killer are large cities where they can preserve their anonymity, so I explained my theory to Chief Petrovic and asked the chief if I could make some calls at lunchtime on Mondays to large Canadian cities in an attempt to locate a similar murder. Chief Petrovic gave me the go-ahead, and so I phoned the Calgary Daily Herald. I just picked a big city and the biggest newspaper in that city.”

  “Let me talk to your chief for a minute,” said Det. Fredericks.

  I passed the phone to the chief. I could only hear one side of the conversation.

  “That’s right,” said Chief Petrovic. “I don’t think so. He’s a good policeman, but inexperienced. We encourage our men. And thank you.”

  “Here, take the phone,” said the chief.

  “Chief Petrovic thinks highly of you,” said Det. Fredericks. “So, for now, you’re off my suspect list.”

  “Thank you,” I said, “but I wasn’t too worried. The only time I’ve been out of Ontario was to watch my brother play ball in the US this past summer. My mother and my wife keep very close track of me.”

  “I’m glad you took the initiative and made that phone call to Calgary,” said Det. Fredericks. “You’ve obviously been giving these murders a good deal of thought; do you have any other ideas?”

  “Yeah, I think you, or someone who is helping you in the investigation, should be phoning all the large cities across Canada. And since there was a similar murder in the West, I would think the big cities between Calgary and Toronto would be the cities to call first.”

  “Thank you very much, Joel. I’ll keep in touch.”

  CHIEF PETROVIC TOLD us ahead of time that he would be speaking to the company managers privately before we were invited into the meeting.

  Two o’clock came and once again the chief’s office had been tidied up. This time, the chief’s wife had given him the use of two of her tablecloths. A flowered tablecloth covered the table that the chief had shoved to the side of the room. On that table were a large coffee urn and two trays containing an assortment of delicious-looking pastries from the nearby bakeshop. The table the chief was to sit around with the four factory owners, or their designates, was also covered by a lovely tablecloth.

  All four of the factory representatives were prompt. Chief Petrovic suggested they pour themselves a coffee and select their favourite pastry before heading to the meeting table. Once everyone was seated, the chief looked around the table. He saw four expectant faces. He began by saying, “I don’t know whether you’ve heard any rumours, but we’ve had a lot of success with this case.”

  “There are lots of rumours, but I much prefer facts,” said George Manners, part owner of Murphy Furniture.

  “I have called this meeting to inform you of what we have discovered to date. I also want to have a conversation with you about what we should do next,” said the chief. “But first I would like to bring in my four constables and thank them in your presence for all of their hard work.”

  Chief Petrovic went to the door and called us in. He told us to come and stand beside him, and when we got to the front of the room, the four factory representatives stood and applauded us. Then Chief Petrovic thanked each one of us personally and asked us to sit on the chairs along the back wall of the room.

  The chief opened the file in front of him and read, “As a result of the stakeout on Friday night, November 17, the Chaseford Police Force arrested the following people: Gary Alexander, Henry Leibowitz, Barty Palmer, Jim Pope, Calvin Router, Herb Smith, Johnnie Smith, and George Gustafson.”

  There was a very noticeable reaction to the names. Gasps of surprise, and a couple of people who said, “Oh no.”

  Ezekiel Pomfrey rose to his feet. “This is terrible,” he said. “I know some of these boys, and I know most of the families, and I know they’re good people. Chief, you and your men have done a wonderful job making these arrests, but it’s so disappointing to find out that these young men were involved in stealing from us.” Mr. Pomfrey paused and looked around the table. “I believe all these young men are currently employed by the furniture factories.” Every representative nodded in agreement.

  “We arrested eight men and I believe each of your four companies employed two of them,” said Chief Petrovic.

  “My initial reaction is that I’m quite angry,” said Robert Ament, the manager of Canadiana Furniture. “I feel that I and the other people who work at the factory have been betrayed by two of the men you have arrested. We are on the verge of shutting our doors.

  “Between the labour unrest in the summer, and now this ongoing thievery, our company has reached the point where we are seriously discussing whether we can continue operating our factory.”

  “Don’t be misled by what I just said,” replied Ezekiel Pomfrey. “I have very similar feelings. I have been robbed, too. But I think we need to listen to what Chief Petrovic has to say as to the motivation for the crime. Aside from our individual companies, we have the community to consider as well.”

  “I think Ezekiel is right,” said George Manners. “Let’s hear from Chief Petrovic.”

  Chief Petrovic said, “The comments you have made, and the concerns you have raised once you heard the names of those arrested, is the other main reason for this meeting.

  “I have done my job as a policeman; I have arrested the guilty. But as the chief of police, responsible for maintaining order in this community, and responsible for the welfare of everyone, it is important that together we make a decision that is fair and wise.

  “When I prepared my constables to interview the eight subjects whose names you now know, I gave them three basic questions to get answers to. The questions were:

  What did you do?

  How did you do it?

  Why did you do it?

  “I think it’s worth your time to listen to some of the answers. We all know what they did, so I’m not going to read that part of the report. How they did it I will discuss with you later.

  “Why did they commit these thefts? I believe this is the most important question,” said Chief Petrovic.

  The chief reached down and shuffled through his folder and finally picked up a sheet of paper. He started by reading the first two lines of the report, “Calvin Router, second interview, Tuesday, November 21. Interviewed by Cst. Jay Jarvis.”

  The chief cleared his throat and continued, “Cst. Jarvis asked, ‘Mr. Router, why did you get involved in stealing from the Murphy Furniture factory?’

  “Calvin Router replied, ‘I was desperate to help my family. My mom and dad are well up in age. Until a couple years ago, my dad was able to work in construction; but now there’s hardly any construction anywhere, because of the depression, and he’s out of a job. He’s looked all over the area for work. When my mom took sick, dad and I talked about what we should do. We decided the best thing to do would be for my dad to stay home and look after mom. I was lucky to have a job with the Murphy Furniture factory, but it was still very difficult
to make enough money to buy food for the three of us.

  “‘From the end of spring until the summer there was continual talk in the factories about work stoppages and a strike. It was very upsetting. I wasn’t a ringleader or anybody like that, but I did want to be paid so I could afford to help my mom and dad. I was hoping an agreement could be reached. But nothing seemed to happen and then the mayor brought the Army in. That was the last straw. That made me angry. I felt like the people who had money, and the local government, thought they could take advantage of us because we were poor.

  “‘So, when I was approached about this scheme to steal small pieces of furniture and materials from the factory so I could make some money, I decided to do it.

  “‘There is one other really important thing I want to say and that is about Barty Palmer, who helped me with the thefts. Barty shouldn’t be blamed for anything. He’s not as clever as the rest of us. We were all told that we were doing the work of Robin Hood – taking from the rich, giving to the poor. Barty really believed that’s what he was doing. For the rest of us, it was just an excuse; but Barty believed he was doing a good thing for others. Please don’t punish him.

  “‘As for what I did, I’m sorry, and I’ll take my punishment.’”

  Chief Petrovic stopped reading, looked up from his notes, and said, “Do any of you have comments?”

  Robert Ament was still angry. “That doesn’t change a thing for me,” he said. “These men all broke the law. They should feel the full weight of it.”

  “When this goes to trial, and each of these eight men gets up and repeats this kind of story, what will be the reaction of the public?” asked George Manners.

  “Well, one thing is for certain: no one will have to worry about whether to close their furniture factory if we bring the full weight of the law down upon them,” said Ezekiel Pomfrey. “I would think that all four factories would be burned to the ground before the trial was over.”