While De la Peña searched for an answer about Pane’s gun, Moffat returned to Mrs. Grubb’s folder of news stories. Starting from the front, he read the first report of Sandra Smith’s death. Dated January 28th, 1970, it lacked the victim’s name and any hint of motive. Moffat attributed the sketchy information to the fact that the Ledger Dispatch was then an afternoon daily. Apparently police had not released details before the reporter’s midday deadline. The following day’s story contained Sandra Smith’s name as well as those of her parents Alfred and Catherine. Here also, Lewis Franke claimed that cash and office equipment had been stolen. The report said, “Police do not believe there is a connection between the murder/robbery and an act of vandalism in which the large plate glass window of the Draft Board’s ground floor office was broken on the night of December 16th last year.” It’s strange, Moffat thought, that the same reporter who wrote so breathlessly about Rees’ arrest and subsequent release did not mention this in an article six weeks later describing a crime at the same location. And strange also that pro war Lewis Franke didn’t seize the opportunity to blame hippies and anti-war conspirators. Follow up articles over the next six months provided only repetition of the basic facts of the case and reports of no results from investigators’ efforts. Franke and the victim’s family were not contacted or chose to make no comment for these follow up reports.
* * *
Across the table, De la Peña was not ready to give up in his search for information about Arthur Pane’s 1970 arrest. The police department computerized records went back only to 1979, though, as with the Ledger Dispatch, there were plans to scan the earlier records into a searchable format when funding and personnel resources would permit. A senior clerk in the Records Office located Pane’s name on the March 22, 1970 activity log but told De la Peña there was no report of any kind in the file for the arrest. The officer whose name was recorded on the log had died in retirement ten years earlier. De la Peña believed a second officer had been involved in the incident based on the wording of the newspaper story. The clerk was unable to locate duty rosters for the 1970’s. De la Peña phoned a dozen officers who were on the force at the time. He left messages for four and reached the other eight at scattered locations around the county. None of the eight believed they had been involved. Finally, De la Peña phoned Edward Gordon, the Reserve Officer at Miner’s Flat.
“No, Jason, I never heard of that,” Gordon said. “You have to remember, no one in Miner’s Flat knew Reverend or Mrs. Pane until they moved up here, about 1980 something. That was a long time ago. Maybe you shouldn’t be digging this up about the man. I can’t imagine why you would want to know about an embarrassing thing like that.”
“We have our reasons, Ed. Nobody wants to dig up dirt just for fun,” De la Peña said. “Well, thanks anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Moffat looked up from his reading as De la Peña hung up the phone. “No luck?”
“No. None. I guess when they chose not to press charges they destroyed the arrest record. I was hoping someone might be around who was in on the arrest. So far, at least, I can’t find anyone.” De la Peña put his head on his fist, frowning.
Moffat returned to his reading. A minute passed. De la Peña said “Maybe we should get a search warrant for his house and church to see if we can find a 357 magnum revolver. If we test fire it and the bullet matches the one that killed Sandra Smith, we’ll have quite a breakthrough.”
“I don’t’ think that’s such a good idea, Sergeant,” Moffat said without inflection.”
“No? Not enough to justify a warrant?”
“Well, yes, that,” Moffat said, “and the fact that we have the gun here at the police station. It was used to kill Veronica Gillis, remember?”
De la Peña dropped his head to his chest, and then shook it slowly back and forth. “Oh, Man. That’s it, Captain. I’ve had it. You should just send me back to Traffic Enforcement.”
Moffat laughed joined by Mrs. Grubb. From behind De la Peña, she called out “Don’t feel so bad, Jason. I was just about to type the application for the search warrant.” She chuckled again then added, “That’s why he’s the captain. He’s always thinking.”
De la Peña blushed but joined in the laughter.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Sergeant. Just think of the abuse Lang and Schoenberg will give you when they find out.”
De la Peña slapped his forehead. “Oh, no. You wouldn’t, would you?”
* * *
At 3:55, when Officer Tashara came in, De la Peña’s face had returned to its normal color.
“Are you coming back to work with us, dear?” Mrs. Grubb asked.
“No, not for a while.” She sat in a chair next to Mrs. Grubb’s desk. “I’m starting my maternity leave tomorrow. I went to the doctor this afternoon. He says I’m due soon, whatever that means. The sooner the better. Oh, my back hurts.”
“Well, you just rest here for a few minutes.”
Suddenly excited, Tashara said “Mrs. G, turn on the TV. The Chief’s having a press conference. That’s why I came here.”
Mrs. Grubb turned on a small television that rested on the top of a four-drawer file cabinet behind her. Moffat and De la Peña crossed the office to join the two women. The news anchor introduced Channel 34’s crime reporter as the screen showed live shots of Buck’s farmhouse, barn, the orchard and the now empty pond. In addition to the local news van, the camera revealed a white news van from Sacramento’s KCRA TV and two newspaper reporters, Amy Apcarian from the Ledger Dispatch and a man Moffat recognized from the Sacramento Bee.
“Good afternoon,” the Chief began in a stern voice. “Today, Segovia County Joint Police Force has discovered human skeletal remains at this small farm eight miles northwest of the city of Segovia. We have located remains of at least three individuals, though our search is ongoing and we believe we will find more. The Department of Forensics Services under the leadership of Dr. Lisa McDonald is in the process of identifying the persons who were buried here. They will work through the weekend as necessary to complete this task. A suspect has been identified. His name is Wyman Buck, age 52, and he can be seen in these photographs and the video surveillance files we have provided the press. Mr. Buck’s crimes are believed to date back to 1973. The suspect is known to have left Segovia County. Additional surveillance videos reveal he was in Oakdale, California on Thursday morning and San Gabriel, California on Thursday afternoon. As you can see, the fugitive has changed his appearance. Police forces around the state are searching for this man who must, of course, be considered armed and dangerous.”
Moffat and the others studied the brief videos showing on the television while the Chief spoke. Buck had shaved the top front of his head and donned dark rimmed glasses.
“What a change,” De la Peña whispered.
Moffat agreed. It would have been a very effective disguise if the police had not located his bank account information in the hidden space between the two bedrooms thus knowing which banks he would go to after escaping the Segovia dragnet.
The Chief finished with a change in the pitch of his voice that was more familiar to the four listening in the detective’s office.
“Ladies and gentleman, I hope to have more information for you next week including the names of the individuals whose remains we are in the process of recovering. For now, I’d like to commend Captain Alexander Moffat and his team for the excellent investigative work that identified the suspect and led us to today’s discoveries. I’m sorry; I can’t take any of your questions now. I have to leave immediately for an important appointment. I thank you all for coming.”
* * *
Mrs. Grubb moved into the break room and could be heard filling the teakettle with water. Channel 34 returned to regular programming - the Ellen Degeneres talk show with guests Hugh Jackman and Flavor Flav. De la Peña stood and turned off the set. “What’s the latest from the dig site, Tashara?”
“I heard they were up to six, but
they’ve dug up most of the area under the pond. Expect a few phone calls from me next week, Jason. I’ve got to know how many were on our list.”
“Tea time, everybody.” Mrs. Grubb came in carrying a tray with cups, a teapot and a plate of Carr's Ginger Lemon Cremes. “Here’s a glass of milk for you Tashara.”
“Thank you, Mrs. G.”
The four enjoyed a pleasant break. A few questions were asked and answered about the soon-to-arrive baby, though the expectant mother would not reveal the gender or name. Even Tashara preferred to join the others in revisiting the activities of the previous two weeks.
Fifteen minutes later, Tashara dispensed good byes and hugs and was off for a six-week leave. De la Peña and Mrs. Grubb had cleared the evidence of the tea break with barely three minutes to spare when Chief Halvorsen strode though the door wearing a gray, Segovia P.D. sweatshirt and khaki work pants.
“What are you people doing working at this hour? It’s nearly five o’clock. You had better get ready to leave. You don’t want to get stuck in rush hour traffic.”
Moffat, De la Peña and Mrs. Grubb laughed at the mention of traffic in comparison to the cities they had left before moving to Segovia.
“Thanks, Chief,” Moffat said. “We’ll take our chances with the traffic. We’ve still got the Gillis case. We’re planning a few extra hours tonight. You did say you wanted it solved in time for the Spring Festival this weekend.”
Halvorsen started to nod then realized what Moffat had said. “You’re not really near to closing that out are you?”
“No, not hardly.”
“I couldn’t imagine you would be after the last two weeks.” Halvorsen looked at De la Peña. “Sergeant, did you tell Captain Moffat about your appointment this evening?”
“No, Sir. I’m afraid I’m going to have to miss practice tonight.” Turning to Moffat he explained “The police softball team is practicing tonight for tomorrow’s charity game against the Harte College Faculty Team.”
“Captain…Sergeant,” Halvorsen said, raising his voice. “To misquote the Bible, ‘for ye have murder always with you’ but this game comes but once a year and this year I intend to win.”
“I understand, Chief,” Moffat said. “Sergeant, you go on to practice. I’ll carry on here.”
“I could come back afterwards, Captain,” De la Peña said. “It should only be a couple of hours.”
Moffat glanced at Halvorsen then said “No, Sergeant. We want you rested for the game. My wife and daughter will be with me tomorrow rooting for our team. You go ahead. Based on what I heard about last year’s lopsided score, the Chief is going to need all the help he can get.”
“That’s right, men. I’m not going to be beaten again by a bunch of professors, admissions clerks and janitors. The pride of the department is at stake. Alex, I’ll get you all the help you need on Monday but tonight I need your Sergeant.”
“You’ve got ‘im.” Moffat gave a salute. In a single smooth movement, De la Peña pulled a sky blue gym bag from under his back table and sprang to his feet. He raced to the men’s room to change saying “I’ll be right behind you, Chief.”
~ ~ ~
CHAPTER 66
“I’m here for as long as you need me, Captain,” Mrs. Grubb said.
“Thanks. I know you have a dance tonight so I won’t keep you too long. I just want to gather as much information as I can, then I can work by myself for a few hours.” When a scowl appeared on her face he added “I guess I should phone, Jean, shouldn’t I?”
“When I saw her at lunch, she said she wasn’t expecting you until late tonight, but you had still better call her.” Mrs. Grubb looked at Moffat over her bifocals, narrowing her eyes but leaving unsaid the remaining words of her warning: if you know what’s good for you.
“I’ll call right away. She’ll have Allison all to herself. That makes it easier.”
“Just be ready tomorrow morning to go with them to the Spring Festival.” Mrs. Grubb leafed through her in-basket and found the eight-page flyer for Pioneer Days. She brought it to Moffat “Jean’s looking forward to having you the whole day.”
Moffat phoned his wife. Jean’s words confirmed Mrs. Grubbs admonition about tomorrow. He promised they would spend the day together.
* * *
In the quiet that followed the phone call, Moffat was happy to return to his reading of the contents of Mrs. Grubb’s Ledger Dispatch folder. He selected the bundle of papers marked miscellaneous, which included the Arthur Pane story from 1970, an October 15, 1969 banner headline reporting the death of three Miner’s Flat soldiers in a grenade attack on a popular bar in Da Nang, a November 15 editorial and a December 2 story about the previous day’s draft lottery. Moffat read the editorial first. It criticized the nation’s draft boards for inconsistent criteria for deferrals, decried rumors that some young men had received preferential treatment and lauded the upcoming lottery for its potential to end those abuses. The editorial writer assumed confidently that Segovia’s own draft board was above reproach but predicted that the new process would make the board’s task much easier.
Moffat continued to the next story, one that described the lottery.
* * *
Selective Service System Lottery
Determines Draft Order for 1970
A drawing held in Washington D.C. yesterday will determine the future of up to 800,000 young men between the ages of 19 and 26. In the first draft lottery since World War II, a random selection of numbers set the order in which eligible men will be inducted into the armed forces next year. In a major revision of Selective Service policies, deferments for students and married men and fathers will be phased out. In subsequent years, all able-bodied young men will be subject to the draft the year they turn nineteen, with selection based on the lottery held the preceding summer. The new system is expected to remove uncertainty that has until now loomed over the lives of young men.
For California, Robert M. Lawrence of the Selective Service Youth Advisory Board selected capsules with dates for draft order 288 through 295. Representatives of all fifty states and the District of Columbia were invited to participate in the drawing.
Formal notices will be sent to each of the nations 4,107 local draft boards directing them to order their files by yesterday’s selection dates, with men born September 14 at the head of the line. Men with a birthday of June 8th will be the very last to be drafted in the unlikely event the military’s manpower needs grow to that extent.
* * *
So, Lewis Franke’s draft board had power over the county’s young men. Even in peacetime, Moffat thought, most would choose to do something else for two years. During the Vietnam War, the stakes were much higher. It would be a situation with the potential for corruption. And, as with any human interaction where the participants had a great deal to gain or lose and would fear exposure if they cheated, that had the potential for homicide. The article said about 800,000 men and about 4000 draft boards. That means an average of 200 men, more or less depending on the area covered by the local board. That’s a manageable number, Moffat thought. Segovia’s small population would have meant many fewer men affected by its draft board. I wonder where the records are.
“Mrs. Grubb?” These were the first words spoken in twenty minutes.
“Yes?”
“I need the draft board records for the men affected by the lottery held on December 1, 1969. There are probably one or two hundred files involved. Where do you think we can find them?”
“I’ll start with County Archives. Let me make a few phone calls and I’ll see what I can find.”
* * *
Moffat returned to his reading. The death of three soldiers on one day filled half the front page on a Wednesday in early autumn. Jean had copied follow up stories extending into the next week. The loss was devastating to the small town of Miner’s Flat and seemed to have sent shock waves through the county. A nationwide “Moratorium” antiwar demonstration was held the same day. The North Vi
etnamese prime minister sent the U.S. peace movement organizers a letter wishing them success. Vice President Spiro Agnew and, at the local level, retired Major Lewis Franke attacked the peace movement for being pawns of the communists. All in all, it seemed like a sad and angry time in the county.
Mrs. Grubb phoned her friend Virginia Castle at archives. Ginny, speaking from memory of her thirty five years in County Records and an overlapping twenty-five as a volunteer with the Segovia Historical Society, was fairly sure they had copied and filed copies of all the records twenty years earlier when the originals were sent to the National Archives in Washington D.C. She was planning to leave soon but when her friend Evelyn said it was important and needed as soon as possible by Captain Moffat, Ginny promised to stay an extra ninety minutes. She would change her evening plans and drive directly to the dance from work, so there better be no comments about her wearing slacks tonight. Mrs. Grubb agreed and offered to help. Ginny said she could use the help Monday which would be the earliest that she could have the documents ready to photocopy. It would take her the time left this evening just to find the master listing for 1970 and identify the individual files involved.
When Mrs. Grubb told him the information wouldn’t be available until Monday, Moffat didn’t seem surprised. She, in turn, wasn’t surprised when he suggested she go home. She had had a productive day but now it seemed Moffat wanted to work by himself.
“See you tomorrow, Captain.”
“Hmm?”
“The Spring Festival. Don’t forget.”
“Right. I’ll be there.”
* * *
So much for that path tonight, Moffat thought. Franke’s work sending young men into the army or marines had the potential to have played a part in Sandra’s murder, Moffat thought. There may be a lead in the records of those men. Unfortunately, it looks like we will have to wait until next week to explore this path.
“What else?” Moffat whispered aloud. Pane? Under what conceivable scenario would Pane be involved in Sandra’s death. If Pane did it, what would have been his motive? Maybe he thought she was a communist. The murder occurred 54 days before his wild scene at City Hall. Was he in the midst of a multi-month mental breakdown? Pane could have been involved romantically with Sandra. If Pane killed her for whatever motive, what would prompt Franke to engage in a cover-up for him? It doesn’t fit, which is too bad since Pane has an excellent motive for the Gillis murder.
Nothing Done in Secret Page 33
