"It'll be at the VVPD... and you can provide the tape yourself."
"Deal," Bruce said.
* * *
SO Detective Jeff Moreno had an often used and well deserved nickname: "Father Jeff."
The thirty-five year-old fluently-bilingual investigator had a quiet demeanor and friendly voice. He had a natural gift of gab and could easily disarm the most reluctant witness or suspect. People just seemed to like talking to him.
Jeff got his nickname -- not because of his strong Catholic faith or the fact he had three young children -- but simply because, "everyone confessed to Father Jeff."
In the VVPD Detective Bureau, Jerrod, Brent, and Willie watched and listened via a TV monitor as Jeff Moreno spoke to the man arrested from the stolen Mercury in one of the interview rooms.
The arrestee -- Latino, twenty-two years old, dark completion, heavy set, and barely five-and-a-half feet tall -- was scared to death. Even on the monitor, they could see the young man shaking from fear and confusion. Jeff spoke Spanish in a soft voice and slowly built a rapport with the young man as the details of how he came into the possession of the Mercury emerged.
"What did he say?" Brent asked Willie.
"He said he bought the car this morning for $600 dollars. Cash."
They listened more.
"He bought it from a white guy at a dope house in the north part of the city," Willie said. "Got a signed 'pink-slip' from the guy."
"Can he describe the man he bought the car from?" Jerrod asked.
"Tall... thin..." Willie interpreted.
Jeff excused himself from the interview room.
"What do you think?" Brent asked Jeff.
"This guy didn't kill anyone," Jeff said. "I believe his story."
Jerrod looked at Brent. "How about we show him the line-up with Nick Usher in it. Just in case. White guy... tall and thin."
"Worth a shot," Brent said as he looked through his file, pulled out the line-up, and handed it to Jeff.
In the interview room, Jeff gave the young man the usual line-up admonition and placed the "six-pack" on the table in front of him.
The man looked at the photos for five seconds and pointed to photo #4.
"What'd he say?" Brent asked Willie.
"He said that was the man he bought the car from. He's sure about it. Hang on."
They listened to the conversation in the interview room.
"He said the seller called himself... 'Marilyn Jones,'" Willie said.
"Our victim's full name was 'Marian Jones,'" Brent said.
"He could have said 'Marian," Willie said. "Hang on."
Jerrod said to Brent, "Hank's full name would have been on the 'pink-slip' for the car." Brent nodded.
Willie listened and interpreted, "Jeff just asked him if he could show us the house where he bought the car... he said he would... he wants to know if he can get his $600 dollars back..."
Brent said, "We're going to turn this guy into a witness. He's not our killer. I'll have Jeff and Calvin take him by that dope house and get a legal description for a search warrant."
"Nicholas Fucking Usher," Jerrod said. "I can't believe it."
Jerrod's cell phone rang. It was five-thirty.
"This is Lorena Delgado. I'm the on-call ADA. I received a page to this number."
"Hello, Lorena. It's Jerrod Gold... with the SO."
"Of course. Sergeant Gold. How can I help you?"
"We're in Valle Verde right now..." Jerrod started as he summarized the investigation to that point. "We did a drive-by with the witness and he pointed out the house."
"You're using someone you arrested as a witness?" she asked.
"Well, we arrested him and then... uh... un-arrested him. He's just a witness now."
"Catch and release," she said. "Works fine for fishing. I don't know about that in a homicide investigation."
"We need a warrant to search the house Nick Usher sold the car from. Right away. He may be in the house right now. I don't know. If we find the TV and VCR in there, it'll help tie him to the murder."
"Okay. That'll probably fly," she said. "I think we all know this drill. I'm still in Mesa, but can be down at the VVPD in about forty minutes or so. Get the warrant face sheet started and we'll go over the affidavit together."
"It'll be ready when you get here," Jerrod said before hanging up.
"Zippy," Jerrod said.
"Yeah, Sarge."
"Got a job for you."
Jerrod's cell phone rang. It was "Beach" Sutton.
"What's up, Beach?"
"Me and Nate are sitting on Usher's girlfriend's house. On Roanoke Court. No Chevy Vega station wagon and no people coming or going. So far."
"Okay. Stay there for now. If that car shows up or you see Usher at the house -- arrest him on PC for the 10851."
"PC" means "probable cause" a person has committed a crime. "10851" is the California Vehicle Code section for Auto Theft.
Zippy had the entire affidavit and search warrant completed when Lorena Delgado arrived at the VVPD.
Lorena read the documents and signed the "reviewed by" space. She looked at Zippy. "Detective Zippich," she said. "I believe you have a bright future in the legal field. This document is perfect. Let's go see a judge."
It was six-fifteen and just getting dark.
Brent's cell phone rang. He listened to the caller and gave some instructions.
"What's up?" Jerrod asked.
"That was Calvin," Brent said. "They dropped our witness off at his home and they're watching the dope house now. A few people have been to the house, but no Nick Usher yet.
"Shroom," Jerrod said as Raymond "Shroom" Mingus walked into the VVPD Detective Bureau. "How'd the rest of the autopsy go?"
"It went good. The victim was involved in a struggle and had a few defensive scrapes on his hands and forearms. It looks like he was struck on the head three times and that torque wrench we found at the scene was probably used. The head blows split the scalp, but didn't fracture the skull."
Brent asked, "Did the blows to the head kill him or something else?"
"Doc said the head wounds were fatal," Shroom said. "He called it 'cerebral edema.' The impacts caused the brain to swell and that's what killed him. The victim had some minor health issues, but no heart attack or stroke or something else that would have been fatal. He was clearly a homicide victim."
Jerrod said, "The stolen Mercury from last night is in the VVPD garage right now. The poor bastard who was found driving it this afternoon said he bought it this morning and he ID'd a guy named Nick Usher as the person who sold it to him."
"Nick Usher?" Shroom said. "That name sounds familiar."
"We looked at him in the Jelinski murder back in October," Jerrod said.
"That's it," Shroom said.
"We need to tie Nick Usher to that car," Brent said. "Get your magic powder out and see if you can get any latents from it. We need to back up the driver's story. The driver said Usher signed a "pink-slip" when he sold it. Maybe we can get something off that too."
"Show me the way," Shroom said.
"I'll get you back there," Willie said. "Pull your van into the back lot."
"Thanks, Willie," Jerrod said. "For everything."
"Just like old times, brother," Willie said. "Just wish Craig Wallace was here with us."
"I wish Craig was here too."
Jerrod's cell phone rang.
"It's Zippy. We have the warrant and can serve it anytime."
"Perfect. Thank you."
It was six-fifty and eight SO investigators were working at time-and-a-half.
CHAPTER 71
"Sheriff's Office! Search Warrant!" Brent yelled as he pounded on the front door of the north Valle Verde dope house pointed out by the un-arrested driver of the Mercury.
The tiny, single story house had seen better days -- in the 50s. Its roof had a ripped blue tarp on it, the house tilted slightly to the right, and its exterior paint color had probably b
een yellow at some point -- but its current color was best just described as "dirty."
A tiny, forty-five year-old man, with a tired, sagging face and blood-shot eyes, opened the door. He was overwhelmed by the rush of men wearing green and blue, all holding handguns, who poured into the house.
"Don't move," the passive man was ordered by VVPD Officer Rusty Browne.
"Okay," Saggy-Face said quietly as Rusty searched him for weapons.
A woman, late twenties and sickly thin, was sprawled across the living room couch and unfazed by the commotion swirling around the small house.
"Is she alive?" VVPD Officer "Big" Kevin Arneta asked Saggy-Face.
"She's alive -- just high as fuck."
"Tall" Kevin Holcomb touched the woman's neck and found a pulse. "Well, she is alive." He turned to Saggy-Face. "What did she take?"
"Speedball," Saggy-Face said.
A "speedball" was an injection which combines both cocaine and heroin. The cocaine high kicks in first and is followed by the low of the heroin.
"What's her name?" Big Kevin asked.
"I don't even know," Saggy-Face replied. "People come and go here."
Tall Kevin carefully searched the couch for weapons and told Saggy-Face to sit next to the unconscious woman. The man's back was to a filthy plate-glass front window.
The rest of the house was searched and no other people were found.
The interior of the house was in worse shape than the exterior. Every surface had a film of dust or grease or who-knew-what-else on it. Broken furniture, fast food containers, and discarded drug paraphernalia were scattered on the floor of every room, and an overpowering sewer smell permeated the entire house.
"How do you put up with that smell?" Rusty asked Saggy-Face.
"What smell?"
Jerrod, Brent and Willie met in the living room.
"You look familiar," Jerrod said to Saggy-Face. "I think you flagged me down once while I was in Patrol and said you were having a cocaine overdose. You told me you thought your heart was about to explode."
"That was probably me. It's happened more than once."
"We're looking for Nick Usher," Brent said. "Does he live here?"
Saggy-Face scratched his short, unkept salt-and-pepper hair. "'Live here' -- no. Crash here -- yes."
"How long has he been 'crashing' here," Willie asked.
"Since he got out of jail. Off and on. Six months ago. I don't really know. He stays in the back bedroom sometimes."
"Where's the Chevy Vega station wagon Nick was driving?" Jerrod asked.
"Nick told me it got stolen," Saggy-Face said. "Well, first all his tools got stolen from it and then someone stole the car too. He's been walking for about a week."
"Tell us what you know about a light blue Mercury," Brent said.
"Nick brought it here yesterday... evening."
"What time?" Brent asked.
"Five or six. It was still light outside."
"Did he say where he got it?" Jerrod asked.
"He said he traded it for some work he had done for someone. He told me the guy owed him money, so he just gave him the car instead."
"Did Nick have any other... uh... property he brought into the house yesterday?" Brent asked -- hoping Saggy-Face had seen Nick carry in the TV and VCR taken from Hank Jones's trailer.
"No. He just had a backpack."
Jerrod went to the back bedroom and found a stack of papers. Among the papers was a half-completed job application for a construction company from Nicholas Joseph Usher. The application was dated two days earlier.
Jerrod collected the application as evidence.
"Does Nick use drugs?" Brent asked Saggy-Face.
"I'm really not at liberty to discuss other people's life choices," the tiny man said.
"Okay, then," Brent said. "Let's discuss your life choices. How about a few days in 'CJ' to help you sort out your priorities."
Saggy-Face scratched his hair again and thought for a few moments. "Nick only uses coke. No heroin. No weed. I don't think he even drinks."
"Now we're getting somewhere," Brent said.
Saggy-Face continued, "I use my dope here. People score dope and come here to use because it's... safe. We don't sell any dope. We don't let any kids in here. We really just want to be left alone. I don't even lock the front door -- I'm really glad you guys didn't kick it in."
"Nick sold that Mercury this morning," Brent said. "What do you known about that?"
"Some young Mexican dude showed up and said he heard we -- that's a 'royal' we... not me -- had a car to sell. I don't know how he knew... but he did. So Nick sold it to him."
"Do you know how much Nick got for it?" Brent asked.
"I have no idea. Nick asked the guy for a ride somewhere and was gone for a few hours."
"What happened when he got back?" Jerrod asked.
"He came back with an 'eight-ball' of coke."
An "eight-ball" is 3.5 grams, or one-eighth ounce, of cocaine.
"Did he share?" Willie asked.
"A little bit. I got a taste." A faint smile lifted the corners of the mouth attached to the saggy-face.
"Have you ever seen Nick with a handgun?" Jerrod asked -- thinking of the revolver missing from Walter Jelinski's bedroom nightstand.
"We don't let any guns in here... so the answer is 'no.'"
Brent told Saggy-Face the photo line-up admonition and showed him the photo array which included Nick Usher.
He pointed to Photo #4 and said, "That's Nick."
The woman on the couch stirred, lifted her head, looked around the room crowded with cops, and promptly went back to sleep.
"She'll be fine," Saggy-Face said.
It was eight-thirty and eight SO detectives were still on overtime.
CHAPTER 72
Nicholas "Nick" Usher's only remaining possessions were the clothes he wore, a black backpack, $400 dollars in cash, two grams of cocaine -- and the Ruger .38 caliber revolver he had taken from the nightstand of Walter Jelinski's bedside table in October.
He walked north on Constitution Avenue in Valle Verde and cut through a gas station lot, down a full block into a residential neighborhood, and around a corner to the house of a friend where he had been sleeping for the last week.
He stopped in the shadows when he saw at least eight marked and unmarked police cars blocking the street in front of the house.
The lights in the living room were on and he could see the owner of the house scratch the wiry mess of his hair as he sat on the couch.
Two detectives in green raid jackets stood over him. One of those detectives had previously taken him to the police department for interviews and set up a polygraph examination in Mesa.
His name was Detective Sergeant Jerrod Gold.
CHAPTER 73
VVPD Squad Room
"What did you find?" Brent asked Shroom.
"I found a registration card," Shroom said. "for the Mercury with a signature scribbled in the 'sold by' space on the back. I'll soak it in ninhydrin tomorrow and see if any latent prints develop."
"How about latents on the car?" Jerrod asked.
"I dusted everything and took a bunch of lifts. Most were useless partials or smudges. I found one big juicy latent on the glass of the rearview mirror. It's got lots of detail and is very identifiable -- if you have someone in mind to compare it with."
"We have someone," Brent said. "We definitely have someone."
"We have plenty of PC," Lorena Delgado said, "to get a felony warrant for Usher on the 10851. The 187 is a bit of a stretch, but I'm going to file it anyway and hope you come up with more to put Usher inside Hank Jones' trailer."
"PC is all we need," Brent said.
"PCs is all you need to make an arrest," Lorena said. "I need 'beyond a reasonable doubt and to a moral certainty' to get a conviction. There's a huge gap between those two standards right now."
It was nine-thirty and eight detectives were still on overtime.
&nb
sp; "We're going to shut this case down for the night," Brent said. "I'm going to work with Ms. Delgado to get the criminal complaint done and I'll 'walk' an affidavit for Usher's arrest warrant to a judge first thing tomorrow. Then we'll start up again during business hours."
Beach looked at Nate and shrugged. Nate looked at Zippy and shook his head.
"Sorry," Jerrod said. "That's how things are going to be done."
CHAPTER 74
January 17, 1991 -- Thursday Morning Meeting
"Brent's over at the courthouse getting the arrest warrant for Nick Usher right now," Jerrod said as the morning meeting got underway. "He's being charged with both the murder and auto theft."
"Is there any idea where Usher is right now?" Lieutenant Mitchell Sullivan asked.
"No, sir," Jerrod said. "We're heading back to Valle Verde this morning to look for him."
"Who's headed back down to Valle Verde?" the lieutenant asked.
"Everyone, sir," Jerrod said. "We're going visit every place Nick Usher has been in the last five years. We plan on finding him and bringing him in today."
"You, Sergeant Rozman, and his two detectives," the lieutenant said, "should be sufficient personnel able to look for Usher today. Your detectives have a backlog of property crimes to attend to, I'm sure, Sergeant."
"Yes, sir," Jerrod said quietly -- while using every shred of self-control not to say more than just those two words.
Brent entered the room and sat in his usual seat.
Cross Examination Page 25
