To Probe A Beating Heart

by Wren, John B

  “Looks good, and the sticker price—?”

  “If I may,” said Dave, “let’s look at this other one, then we will talk dollars.”

  “Okay, which one?”

  “Right here,” said Dave and he walked over to the other one with tinted windows. This one was a deep blue, full tinted windows and clean looking. He opened the door and Averell looked in.

  “Cloth seats, I really do like the leather.”

  “I understand, but you do visit a lot of different locations in both the summer and winter. These seats are never hot on a summer day and never cold on a winter day. They are also a little softer and on a long trip, well, you should get in, sit and feel.”

  Averell got in, Dave was right, it was more comfortable, softer than he would have guessed. “I am surprised, this is nice.”

  “Now, the rest of this is the same as the other one, except it has about five thousand miles more on it, but look at the price.”

  Averell got out, looked at the price, smiled, “Well it passed the butt test.” An hour later, he was driving his new ‘pre-owned’ SUV home.

  “What do you think?”

  “Very nice. Is it time to go hunting?”

  “No, not yet, this last one was a problem and it could be risky to do another one now.”

  “Yeah, in Ohio maybe, but we have other places we could use.”

  “True, true, true—. Okay, we will look around for a new place to play, but we will go very slowly and be sure of things, remember, planning.”

  “Yeah, magic.”

  “Exactly, and—.”

  “And what?”

  “And maybe we can do someone a little older.”

  “Are we ready to take Sarah for a ride?”

  “We may be, but first let’s find a place, and I did like the Finger Lakes.”

  “Me too, I liked the Finger Lakes, and I liked Phil’s Farm.”

  “Phil’s place is out of the question, we pushed our luck by going back there. What if Phil had come in while we were busy?”

  “The Finger Lakes it is then?”

  “Yeah, let’s go back there and look around, we should find a very special place for her.”

  “For them?”

  “Yeah, for them.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  And I have a couple of answers . . .

  This latest victim proved to be that little slip in Averell’s very well thought out plans that would prove to be expensive, very expensive. This was where he had been able to thank “luck” over the last several years, when a little glitch had crept into his organized plans and an old lady’s eyes, a policeman’s slow uptake in a cemetery, a witnesses description seeing a bumper sticker rather than his license plates had failed to open the door to Averell himself. He did not know how many times that he was almost seen, how many times he was a second or a minute from being interrupted and being caught in the act. This time, his curiosity had brought him back to a scene that he should have avoided, but he ‘had to see’.

  Jim McClarry had more information for his data base. Melissa Winton was the fifteenth victim that he recorded that fit the broader limitations that he was using. She was the second little girl taken from Cleveland Heights. She was also the eighth that fit his tighter parameters. She was a blue eyed blond with a pink top, blue denim shorts and white shoes. And her body was found. On top of that, her picture in the newspaper looked like Annette. He gave her a 10 on his rating scale.

  “Sean, this is Jim, listen, I got something with this latest victim, why don’t you come upstairs when you have a few minutes today?”

  “I assume you are ready to run out the door, right?”

  “Yeah, as soon as I fold all this stuff up and put it in my brief case.”

  “I’ll be out front in five minutes, I’m driving.”

  “It’s two blocks.”

  “I said, I’m driving.”

  “Okay, see you in five.”

  Jim packed his brief case, gave Margo a hug and said, “I may be a little late tonight, Babe, we may have something with this latest victim.” He ran down the stairs. Sean was just pulling up and Jim got in. “The Winton girl taken yesterday is almost a twin for Annette, it was scary.”

  Sean drove to the station and pulled into the lot. They went up to the detectives office.

  “Good morning Vince, Jim has something for you.”

  “I figured he would, I read the newspaper too, let’s see it.”

  Jim spread out his materials including a picture of Annette and one of Melissa. They could have been twin sisters, seven years apart but they looked very much the same.

  “Do we have photos of the others that are on the list?” asked Jim. “No, but we will in a few hours. George is on his way in, he will open the doors for us at the stations that we have not talked to yet.”

  “Okay,” said Sean.

  “Is Alex around?” asked Jim.

  “He’s not in today,” said George. “Vince look at these pictures, what does it look like to you?”

  “They could be the same girl or related, like sisters?”

  “Neither, this is Annette Shelton and this other one is Melissa Winton. These pictures were taken seven years apart and Melissa is a little older than Annette was then.”

  “What else you got?” asked Vince.

  Jim sat down and reviewed the entire file with him. “Something else that we should be aware of.”

  “What’s that, Jim?”

  “Whoever the ultimate target is, assuming that she is still alive, would now be at least the five or six years that Annette was, plus the seven years since, so maybe at least thirteen or fourteen minimum and if we are a few years off on each end, possibly nine to begin with and maybe ten to twelve more in between, so maybe twenty one, twenty two on the high side—.”

  “Okay, so what do we do with this new information,” said Vince.

  “How about getting one of those aging programs that show what someone would look like when they grow up.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we do the aging thing to each of the girls, see what they might look like today and search for this person along the corridor, we may get zero response and we may get a hundred responses, only one way to find out. Keep in mind that a hundred maybes may be exactly what we need.”

  “We’re listening.”

  “This Melissa was taken apart, legs, arms, head, torso and scattered in the woods at a cemetery. The question in my mind is, Why? We have not found any of the other seven, so why this one.”

  “Good question, Jim.”

  “Yeah. And I have a couple of answers.”

  “Keep going, I’m listening.”

  “Okay, the ‘Why question’ can be answered in several ways.”

  “First, maybe he has reached his goal. I don’t like this answer, but we have to consider it.”

  Vince looked at George and said, “We should give Alex a call, this is his turf.”

  George looked over his shoulder and said, “Janice, can you hunt down Alex, see if he can join us?”

  Jim cleared his throat and spoke up, “Second answer is that this is where he intended to put this body where it could be eaten by the wild life, but that again is not very likely.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Third, he may have been in the process of hiding the body. In a cemetery. It’s a natural. And he was seen. Someone was seen kneeling next to a fresh grave site the night before her body was found. I think he may have intended to re-dig the same site and deposit the body, then cover it up. But the patrol car upset his plan, made him improvise, scatter the body in the woods and get outta’ there.”

  “That sounds reasonable.”

  “The officer that drove through the cemetery and saw a man kneeling

  at the grave said the plates on his vehicle were from New York.”

  “What else you got, Jim?”

  “Well, when I add it up, we had a man seven years ago that coul
d be the same man in the cemetery, the descriptions are close. We have a blue van seven years ago that he could have traded for the sedan that was seen in the cemetery yesterday. The plates were from New York, so, I think that we should look for the possible target, the current version of what these little girls could grow into, in New York rather than Indiana, Ohio and Pennsylvania.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” George saw Janice and asked, “Is Alex around?”

  “Can’t find him, boss.”

  “Okay, we will catch him up later,” George came back into the conference room and sat down. “Jim, this is good, and I want to run with it, what are you going to do next?”

  “I got this far and now I or we have some more work to do. If you give a go ahead, I’ll get one of those aged pictures generated and try to get them circulated in New York State along the I 90 corridor. And I know you won’t let me forget the other three files on my desk.”

  “Okay, good, we will do this again when Alex is available and maybe you guys will have more to add at that point.”

  “We may, let’s get at it,” and the meeting was over. Jim went back to his desk and wrote up a summary of what was just covered in the meeting and put it together with a cover note stating that the psych evaluation should be attached. He then filled out a requisition for a forensic artist to do an age progression sketch.

  When Alex came in and reviewed the package, he made a few notes and the information was forwarded to the FBI for their review. They already had that and a little additional information from local police, about the location of the cemetery. Still, no one had enough to focus in on any one individual.

  Averell was very uncomfortable and needed to know that he was safe from any suspicion by the police. He drove back to the cemetery and drove past, straining to see if there was still activity at the grave site. He drove around the block several times, trying to see and finally drove into the cemetery. He drove slowly around and past the site, looking for activity.

  There was yellow tape around several trees in the woods and two men

  slowly walking through the wooded area, looking down. As he continued on the road, he passed a police car coming the other way.

  Josh was given the task of looking at anyone and everyone who came near the site in an effort to try to find the kneeling man. The car was all wrong, but the guy was close enough for a second look. The car was wrong, he noted the license plates, New York, and he called it in. “47 to base, I got a maybe on the kneeling man. It’s kind of thin, but a maybe nonetheless.”

  “Keep an eye on him and we are sending back up.”

  “Roger that, he’s pulling out and heading east on Derby. I’m on him.”

  “47, this is 23, We are close, on the way, Josh, hang with ‘em.”

  Within five minutes there were three black and whites closing on Averell. He saw them and calmly pulled into a shopping center with an office supply store. He had never been to this store but he did deal with the distribution center that supplied this store. His ploy was to claim that he was looking at different stores where he could run a promotion for the up-coming school season. As he stepped out of his vehicle, an officer approached him. “Mr. Danker, you are Averell Danker, correct?”

  “Why, yes, is there a problem?”

  “We would like to ask you a few questions, do you have a minute?”

  “For you guys, absolutely. What can I do for you?”

  “Where were you on Tuesday the eleventh?”

  “Ah, you mean two days ago ?”

  “Yes, Tuesday.”

  “Well I’m not sure, I had an appointment in Erie at ten in the morning and—.”

  “You were in Erie, Pennsylvania?”

  “Yes, in the morning, then I went back to Rochester to get more

  materials for this trip.”

  “So you were not here in Ohio on Tuesday?”

  “Oh, no, I drove down this morning. What’s this about?”

  “We noticed you at the cemetery and thought if you had been here on Tuesday, you might have seen something. Thanks for your time,” and the police let him go.

  “I don’t know about this guy. We should let the Feds know about him and follow their lead.”

  Averell was watched very closely by the local police as he went into the store and as he stayed in their jurisdiction. The Feds were notified and picked up the observation as he headed north toward Interstate 90. For the next several weeks Averell was observed, closely. He was extremely careful and stayed close to his work routine, taking in a movie periodically and stopping at the library to exchange books and book tapes.

  Alex Robertson had developed a preliminary profile of the predator with all the information that the team had assembled. When Averell Danker was made a possible suspect, he drew as many parallels as possible. The problems were many and not all resolvable. Danker could well be the one, but the proof was not there. Both Vince and Jim were in agreement, he could be the one, but could was not good enough. They wanted to be absolutely sure. The only case of the eight missing girls that matched the profile that could be considered was the Melissa Winton case. There was a body and a connection to Danker, a very weak connection but a connection nonetheless. Meetings with the district attorney were held and even several trial scenarios were put on the table. Each one assumed that they had more evidence to effect an arrest than they actually had, but in the end, they had nothing. If Danker was the best they could do, then they failed. So time passed and the case against Averell Danker could not be built, the team on his case was diverted to other things. Averell was beginning to feel as though he had dodged a very large bullet.

  “Gotta’ stay clean,” he mumbled.

  “Speak up my man, we are home.”

  “They could be listening, bugs.”

  “Naw, they got zip, nada, nothing.”

  “Still, careful is best.”

  “Okay, we can still talk if you think loud enough.”

  Averell paused and thought, “Can you hear me now?”

  “Why yes I can good buddy.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  But I really do understand . . .

  Jim McClarry was coming in when he ran into Vince Galley in the parking lot. “How you doing this morning,” asked Jim.

  “C’mon upstairs and let’s get Alex and George, we should talk,” said Vince.

  They went into the captain’s office, “Afternoon Vince, Jim,” said

  George, “sit down.”

  Jim sat and Alex came into the office. “What’s up George, hey Jim, what’s going on?”

  George started the session saying, “Listen guys, I know how you all feel about this case around the Shelton girl. The good news is that we have a way outside maybe with this character in up-state New York, a traveling salesman or something. The bad side is there is nothing that we can arrest him on. Nothing that even points directly at him, he became a person of interest when he possibly showed interest in the Melissa Winton crime scene, the cemetery. Then he looks kinda like the guy from 1991, and the kneeling man, kinda, nobody could possibly make a positive ID in either case. He has been interviewed twice, and we even went over some of his travel logs that show him somewhere else when each of our fifteen cases went down. We looked at his family, he was adopted from Europe, has one sister, his mother and father split up, his mother remarried and the new father adopted him and his sister. We got nothing on them, they still live in the Syracuse area, except the first father, he moved to California when the kid was five years old. He does not have a juvenile record sealed or otherwise, did a stint in the Army, nothing there and now does this salesman routine from Albany to Toledo, all along the I-90 corridor. That’s it, we got nothing to put him into any of the cases except Melissa’s, and that’s as thin as it gets. All things added up, I think that this is our guy. The feds will never give up and they’ll stay on him forever. They will watch him till he makes a mistake. For now, that’s it, we got other things to do and I
want you guys to understand that we are not shutting it down,

  it’s on the shelf and not in cold storage.”

  Alex looked at George, “You know that the way these cases have gone, the guy who did it is no dummy. If he has any inkling that we suspect this Danker character, he will hold up and convince us that it must be Danker. If it is Danker, and he knows that we suspect him then he also knows that we don’t have enough to arrest him, and all he has to do is sit tight, don’t do anything and sooner or later we will go away, and he will be free to do as he pleases.”

  Neither Vince nor Jim was pleased with the status, but they were

  frozen. If they acted out in some way, the case, slim as it may be, could be blown away.

  George continued, “Jim, you did some damn good cop work without all the advantages of the upstairs facilities before you earned your gold shield and became one of us. I like the way you work and want you to know that you will do better on some cases and some will go completely south. I don’t want you to be discouraged and give up. Remember there is no statute of limitations when it comes to murder and if he did kill Annette, or any of the others, he will make a mistake sooner or later and we will be right there. We will get him, just a matter of time. Now, I have to trust that you guys will take this the right way and let the feds do their thing. Are we on the same page?”

  Sean was not smiling, “George, you know me a long time, I understand and Jimmy is going to be a good little boy.” As he said that Jim looked at Sean and did not challenge the use of ‘Jimmy’ or ‘boy’, Sean was not happy and now was not the time to remind him that your name was not Jimmy.

  Jim did not like this either, but he understood, “I hear you Captain, I do not want this screwed up either.”

  George looked at each of his men and caught a knowing look in each pair of eyes. “Now, we all have put time and effort into this and you can feel good about what you’ve done, a lot has been accomplished up till now and things will move at a snail’s pace from now till we get something else, so, y’all have things to do, right?”

  “Okay guys, now I have to get back to keepin’, the peace and writing tickets,” said Sean. He walked toward the stairs and Jim caught up to him.