All In A Day's Work

by Gary Resnikoff

  “But have you seen him actually get violent?”

  “You mean, like, in a fight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, no. I can’t remember ever actually seeing him in a fight.”

  “Okay. Have you ever heard him actually threaten to hurt someone on the air?”

  “I don’t know if I can remember an actual threat,” she replied slowly.

  “What about George?” asked Stein.

  “He takes his work very seriously, but he never gets angry with anyone. He never yells at callers like Bob does. He just tries to work things out calmly. He’s a very sweet guy.”

  “In your opinion, do you think Bob is capable of these murders?” asked Baird.

  “I don’t know. He does get so angry sometimes.”

  They asked her a few more questions similar to the ones posed to Steve, and when they were done, they asked her to send in George.

  “One last thing, please,” said Stein. “Could I get you to print off a quick note from each of the printers in the office?” He handed her a piece of paper which looked like a random set of words with no meaning. “Print this from each one. I wonder if you could do that while we are with George.”

  “Sure,” she said as she left them.

  George entered the conference room a few minutes later.

  “Come in, George. Have a seat,” said Stein.

  “Look, guys, I don’t really know anything other than what was in the paper this morning. Really.”

  “That’s okay, George. We just want to ask you a few questions. You might know more than you think.” Detective Baird was sitting across from George and smiling. “I understand you and Bob go back a few years.”

  “Yes. I’ve been on the show with Bob almost from the beginning.”

  “You guys are pretty good friends, yes?”

  “Yes, we are.” George looked at the detective suspiciously. His hands were turning white as he realized he was gripping the edge of the conference table. He loosened his grip.

  Stein noticed George’s tension.

  “George, there’s no need to be nervous. We just have a few questions for you,” he said, trying to put George at ease. George nodded.

  “George, I understand that you and Bob go fishing and camping quite a bit together,” said Baird, looking down at his notes.

  “We do some. Bob has a cabin up by Grand Lake,” George answered, confused, looking back and forth between the two detectives. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  “No need to be defensive, George. Of course it’s okay,” answered Baird. “Were you with him on any of these nights?” asked Baird, handing George a list of all the murder dates.

  George stared at the list for a few quiet minutes.

  “I don’t think so. Do you suspect me?” asked George nervously. “Do I need an attorney?”

  “No. Not unless you have something to hide. These are routine questions, George,” said Baird. “We are asking all the staff the same things. We’re just eliminating possibilities. No one suspects you of anything, but we still have to ask.”

  “Okay,” George replied, still uncertain whether he should go on without an attorney. He looked at the list again. “I was with my girlfriend most of these nights. She can verify that.”

  “Good. See? That helps us a lot. We will check with your girlfriend. Please give us her number. And just to make it even more helpful, can you tell us if you were with anyone else besides your girlfriend on any of these dates?”

  “We were at a party together last weekend. There were lots of people there who can account for me.”

  “Good. Can we get some of those names and numbers, please?” asked Stein.

  “Sure. And on this night…” George pointed to one of the dates on the list. “…We were at a play in Denver. I have the ticket stubs, if that will help.”

  “It will help greatly. Thanks, George.”

  Baird resumed the interview.

  “We understand that Bob gets rather animated with callers whom he doesn’t like. Or to be more specific, he gets angry with contractors he suspects of wrongdoing.”

  “He’s passionate about what he does,” replied George.

  “But he does yell at them quite a bit, doesn’t he?”

  “Do you suspect Bob of being a murderer?” George asked suspiciously.

  “We need to ask these questions, George,” said Stein reassuringly. “We want to eliminate people who might be suspects, so we can direct our investigation in the right direction.”

  “He acts like that on the radio. He’s yelled at hundreds of people over the years, and they don’t all wind up dead. What about the theory people are talking about that the killers are listeners?”

  “That’s a theory, certainly. We have to look at all possibilities if we are going to catch these guys,” said Stein, although he was concerned they had no real direction in the investigation. Assuming all the staff was telling the truth, the only member of the team who might have alibi issues was Jackson. But Stein was still unconvinced. Usually, he let the evidence dictate his next move, but in this case, it seemed wrong. Should he go on instinct?

  Anxious to get back on track, Detective Baird asked, “So, you don’t think Bob is capable of murder?”

  Shocked by the directness of the question, George glared at the detective. “No.”

  “Why do you suppose all the murder victims came from your show?” asked Baird.

  “I wouldn’t know, but I think I’ve said enough. I don’t like your implications.”

  “George, no one is accusing anyone of anything at this time,” said Stein calmly. “We can use all the help we can get. Clearly, there is a link to the show, and we need to understand what it is. Eliminating staff members as suspects helps us. I understand you and Bob are tight, and I don’t blame you for being offended by the question. But, we need to ask it. I would ask if you thought anyone here was capable of murder, not just Bob.”

  “Then, my answer is no. No one here did these murders!”

  “Okay. Fair enough. Let’s talk about the listeners for a minute. You talk to all the callers before they go on the air, and you hear everything they say once they’re on. Can you remember if any callers sounded angry enough to be responsible for these murders? Maybe someone actually said they were going to kill a contractor. I know people say that in a fit of anger and don’t mean it, but we still need to track those people down.”

  George took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “I honestly can’t remember any caller resorting to language that might suggest they were going to kill someone. Mostly frustration. Yes, some anger, but not as extreme as you’re saying. And I never asked anyone if they were considering murder as revenge for losing a few dollars,” he added sarcastically.

  Stein smiled. “No, I don’t suppose you would ask a thing like that.”

  “So, you can’t think of any callers who might have done this?” Baird asked again.

  “The answer is still no, Detective,” answered George sharply.

  Baird feigned indignance. “You don’t like me, do you, George?”

  “You’re not giving me any reason why I should. Look, I spend my time talking to people who are looking for some help with their problems. I talk to contractors and businesses behind the scenes and try to get some resolution. If any of our listeners are doing this, they’re doing it on their own and haven’t shared it with me.”

  “Okay. I get it. Tell me, have you ever seen Bob get violent?”

  “No!”

  “Really?” Baird looked surprised. “You’ve known Bob for years, and you’ve never seen him get into a fight?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. That’s all for now. Please call us if anything else comes to mind.” Stein handed George a business card. Baird put his on the table, but George ignored it and left the room.

  The detectives were alone in the room. Stein closed the door, giving them some privacy.

  “What do you think, Chris?” From the ques
tioning, Stein was pretty sure he knew what the rookie would say.

  “I think I’ve been right all along. This isn’t some random crazy, listener. It’s Bob. He’s our guy. He’s not right in the head. He flies off the handle all the time. And he has motive.”

  “What’s the motive?”

  “He hates contractors who he thinks are ripping people off. He’s frustrated the system doesn’t do enough, so he became a vigilante.”

  “Big stretch. All conjecture and no evidence.”

  “That’s because he’s good. He covers his tracks because he’s a planner and a schemer.”

  Stein wasn’t sure Jackson wasn’t the culprit, but he was doubtful, and because he had no other viable leads, he was willing to at least listen to the young detective. In his long career, he had seen almost everything; it was possible the rookie was on to something.

  “So, if it is Bob, who’s the accomplice?”

  “His girlfriend. Think about it. We don’t know squat about her. She’s always away when these things occur. And I’m willing to bet you that Bob doesn’t have a viable alibi for any of the murders. She probably doesn’t, either.”

  “What do you suggest we do next?” he asked, figuring he might as well hear everything.

  “I think we get a warrant and search his house. We might find something.”

  “We have absolutely no evidence. I don’t think we could get a warrant.”

  “He takes Trazadone, just like we found at the first murder scene.”

  “Not enough for a warrant.”

  “Okay. What if the guy doesn’t have any alibis?”

  “Still iffy.”

  “I think we can show a judge probable cause for a search. Especially if the paper used at the murders is the same as the paper have here at the studio.”

  “That might push it over the top, even though the paper and printers are probably all over town.”

  “Jake, I’m convinced it’s him. He fits the profile, and the way he treats people and threatens them tells me he has the mental state of a killer.”

  “I get it; you think it’s him, but I have to tell you, I’m not convinced.”

  “I know you’re my boss, but I think you’re wrong about Bob. He’s definitely hiding something. The notes sound just like him. He says stuff like that all the time.”

  “Okay. You’ve made your point, but I’m saying you need to calm down and keep perspective on this. Time to back off and keep tracking down leads.”

  “But Jake…” he pleaded.

  “That’s an order. Back off.”

  Detective Baird felt insulted and frustrated. Trying to hold it in and careful not to say anything that might hurt his career, he excused himself to use the restroom, leaving Stein alone in the conference room.

  Stein sat there, replaying the conversation. Accusing Jackson and pulling a search warrant didn’t seem right. Not yet, anyway. He had to admit the evidence suggesting that Jackson’s involvement was building up. But there was no physical evidence linking him to the crime scenes. Well, possibly the Trazadone. But the ME had told him that it was commonly prescribed for a host of maladies, and therefore, it was too easy to get, and too many people were using it.

  Pressure was building downtown. The mayor was pushing the chief, and the chief was pushing Stein. The press wasn’t helping things by running headlines saying Denver was under siege, and the talk shows were even worse. Not only were they suggesting the police were incompetent and allowing a killer to run rampant on the streets of Denver, but they also threw out theory after theory with every conceivable person as the culprit—including, and especially, Jackson. The internet blogs were also having a field day. Pseudo journalists were suggesting conspiracy theories that implicated the government for participating in an elaborate scheme with Jackson to eliminate contractors that they couldn’t corral through normal means. In other words, the Revengers were actually government agents. Between the press, radio, and internet, the public was being told that Jackson should be tarred, feathered, and run out of town. Unless they could hang him first.

  Stein knew all this, and yet, he wasn’t ready to succumb to the pressure. It could be career suicide if he was wrong, but he felt secure for now in his belief that a judge wouldn’t issue a warrant yet. It was becoming a lose/lose proposition for Stein. If he convinced a judge to issue a warrant and was wrong about Jackson, the public would take Jackson’s side, and Stein’s career would be ruined. If, on the other hand, Jackson turned out to be involved, and Stein didn’t move on him, he was ruined, as well. It didn’t take much to destroy a successful career these days. The internet was too powerful, and he had no doubt his chief would gladly throw him under the bus to save his own ass.

  In the end, he decided to go with his gut and hold off a little longer before moving on Jackson. One more piece of evidence—even circumstantial—was what he wanted. The results from the paper and printer comparisons—although weak—would give him that cover. But the big cover would come if Jackson didn’t have solid alibies for all the murders. And besides, another day to make the decision wasn’t going to make or break the case now. Or his career.

  His thoughts were interrupted by his cell phone ringing.

  “Yeah, this is Detective Stein,” he answered and listened without comment. “Hang on,” he said, grabbing a pen and starting to write on his notepad.

  “Okay, we’ll be right there.” He was packing up his stuff when Detective Baird returned to the conference room.

  “Get your things,” he told him. “The Revengers struck again last night. I’ll tell you about it on the way there.”

  ****

  After Jackson finished his interview with the detectives, he made his way to Jay’s office and knocked. Not waiting for an answer, he opened the door and peeked in. The station manager was on the phone but signaled for Jackson to come in and sit down.

  “Gotta go; Bob just came in.” Jay hung up the phone, looked over at Jackson, and put on a fake smile. “Are the detectives still here?”

  “Yes. I think they’re talking with Julia right now.”

  On Jay’s desk were copies of the latest newspapers. Bold headlines about the Revengers were so big, Jackson could read them upside-down from across the desk.

  “Bob, I don’t think I need to tell you how bad this is. I’ve been getting calls since last night. Between the press and the talk on the internet, we’re getting hammered. Radio talk shows are trying to implicate us in the murders. I just hung up with the owner, and he’s freaking out. I think he thinks there is a direct connection.”

  “Bullshit! He thinks I’m doing this?”

  “He didn’t accuse you directly, but he thinks the appearance is bad. He also said he’s worried about liability.”

  “Liability?”

  “Families of victims might try to claim that our show facilitated their murders.”

  “Geez. You have to be kidding.”

  “I wish I was. It’s bad, Bob. I can’t change perception any more than I can control what the media is saying.”

  “And what do you think, Jay?”

  “Doesn’t matter what I think, Bob.”

  “It matters to me.”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore. No way do I think you are involved, but I can see how everyone is starting to freak out. People are scared, man.”

  Even though he didn’t admit it, Jay was concerned about Jackson. His feeling was that Jackson did go overboard with personal attacks directed toward the contractors whom he didn’t like. He thought Jackson was too argumentative and boisterous, and although it drove ratings up, he was uncomfortable with it. So were the owners. But they were greedy, and as long as it generated revenue, and lots of it, they ignored it. But now, things were different. They felt the risk of reprisal was getting to be too much to handle. But when advertisers started pulling their ads, management was no longer willing to look the other way. When the threat of lawsuits came into the picture and their advertisers started desert
ing them, the die was cast.

  “Look, Bob. I personally don’t think you are responsible for these murders, but you do have a tendency to say threatening things to some contractors. Maybe you went too far, and we have a listener doing the killings for some crazy reason,” said Jay. “The bottom line is, we are getting pushback from advertisers. They are dropping out. And the switchboard has been lit up with listeners, asking if we are part of some government conspiracy.”

  “What’s next, Jay?” asked Jackson. He suspected what was coming next and wanted to just get it over with.

  Jay took a deep breath, steeling his courage. “The bottom line is, I’m getting some heat from the boss, and I don’t like it.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” offered Jackson. “It’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t think so.” Jay was shaking his head.

  Jackson was losing what little patience he had for Jay. “Get to the point, Jay.”

  “We need to pull the show for now. The publicity right now is bad for the station. We are losing advertisers, and not just on your show. The attorney recommended we take a step back and let the police catch the killers before we go back on the air.”

  “You’re worried about getting sued?”

  “Yeah. You know, these days, everyone sues anyone with deep pockets.”

  “You have got to fucking be kidding me!” yelled Jackson. “You’re making a huge mistake, Jay!”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “What the fuck’s the matter with you, Jay? No, that’s not a fucking threat.”

  “Let’s not make this any worse than it is. Take some time off. We’ll give the staff some vacation time, and as soon as the cops find the killers, we can bring you back on.”

  “This was my goddamned show, Jay. I made this station a ton of money over the years, and now, you turn on me at the first sign of a little trouble?”

  “A little trouble?” said Jay incredulously. “Bob, people are dead. Who knows how many more might die? We are shutting down the show. Take some time off and relax. It’s been decided.”