A Predetermined Course Of Events - Robert F. Clifton (phonics readers TXT) 📗

me. I'm Reverend Charles Bennett.”

“Good. I'm Sergeant William O'Neil and this is Detective Thomas McKenzie. Is there someplace we can go where we can talk in private?”

“Of course but first allow me to take care of a minor matter I'm having with this young lady.'

“Please, take your time,” said O'Neil.

A few moments later Reverend Bennett said, “Now gentlemen come this way. The two detectives followed the minister to his private office. Once inside the Reverend said, “Have a seat and how can I help you?”

“We're here looking for a man named Harvey Anderson. We have reason to believe that he's staying here,” said O'Neil.

“As a matter of fact, he is staying with us at the present time.”

“Excellent can we see him?”

“No. today he's working as a day laborer. I would imagine that he shall return sometime after five o'clock this evening.”

“Work program?,” asked McKenzie.

“Oh yes. Here we give those staying with us the opportunity to gain employment. This in return allows them to find a path to independence and a new life style.”

“It sounds very interesting,” said O'Neil.

“ Let me explain how we work here at the Good Sheppard Mission. We're open seven days a week. We serve two hot meals Monday through Friday at noon and at seven PM. A Saturday meal is served at noon and a three PM on Sunday. Two hours before each meal clients, notice we do not refer to them as the homeless, vagrants or inmates, clients are allowed to shower.

 

We provide all toiletry items. They can get a change of clothing, including undergarments, make a telephone call and use our computer and job board to search for employment. We also offer, working one on one with case managers an opportunity to develop a program that plans their independence.

Some of the services we offer are the ability to obtain identification, sources of income, housing, substance abuse referrals, medical assistance through our clinic, bus passes for employment or doctors visits and clothing vouchers for job interviews.”

“It sounds like you have a very well run organization,” said O'Neil.

“We try. We owe our success to the many volunteers who work here and we can't forget those that donate, food, clothing, and of course money that keeps us operating.”

“Very interesting. Well I guess we'll be back some time after five PM to talk with Anderson,” said O'Neil.

“If you wish. Allow me to invite both of you to join us for supper. I'm sure that you will find it of at least as good as restaurant quality,” said Bennett.

At five forty five PM O'Neil and McKenzie returned to the Mission House. As the walked to the front of the building they saw a man fitting the description of Harvey Anderson. “Are you Harvey Anderson?”, aske O'Neil.

“Yes. I was told that the police were looking for me.”

“That's true. We woulds like to ask you a few questions,” said O'Neil.

“Let's sit on the porch. No one is there and we can talk in private,” Anderson replied.

“Fine. Lead the way.”

Once seated in comfortable wicker chairs Anderson opened the conversation. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”

“ That depends,” O'Neil replied.

“ I haven’t done anything to break the law.

“Do you know a young African-American girl named Ethel Lamb?”

“No but if this is about her murder I don't know anything about it.”

“Well, here's what we do know. Ethel Lamb was a frequent visitor to the Atlantic Garden Mission House and you stayed there.”

“That's true but so did many other guys.”

“True however most of them were Black.

“So?”

“So we know that a Caucasian male was with her when she died.”

“It wasn't me.”

“Well, to be sure. I would like to take a sample of your blood and hair, particularly a sample of your pubic hair.”

“Now?”

“No, at your and my convenience. If you consent to giving us samples you simply sign a consent form. At the same time if you refuse then I go to court and get a search warrant.”

“Hey, I've got nothing to hide. If you have the forms with you I'll sign them now.”

“Unfortunately, I don't. When are you free?”

“Most anytime. I got a job as a day laborer. I hate to lose the work by not showing up.”

“Are you free on Saturday's?”

“Yes.”

“Good, we'll pick you up here on Saturday, take you back to Nautilus Beach. There you give us the samples, sign the forms and we bring you back here. What do you say?”

“I say, fine.”

“Good, see you on Saturday,” said O'Neil.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

The States Witness

 

On the following Saturday Harvey Anderson allowed the Nautilus Beach Police Surgeon to take samples of his pubic hair. After that was done he sat in a chair in front of Sergeant William O'Neil. Captain Wallace sat quietly ready to watch the questioning. “For the record What is your full name?”, asked O'Neil.

“Harvey Wilbur Anderson.”

“And your address?”

“Currently at the Good Sheppard Mission House in Schooner Beach, New Jersey.

“What is your occupation?”

“I'm presently working as a day laborer,”

“In Schooner Beach?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever lived in Nautilus Beach?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“At the Atlantic Garden Mission House.”

“How long did you live there?”

“Almost a year. Eight months actually.”

“While there were you employed?”

“No. I looked for work but jobs were hard to find.”

“How did you earn any money?”

“Once in awhile I went to the city dump. When I was there I dug through the trash looking for anything of value that I might be able to sell.”

“Let's go back to your time at the Mission in Nautilus Beach. While you were there did you ever see a young,

African-American girl in or about the premiss?”

“You must be talking about Ethel. Sure I saw her. Most of the time she was there to get something to eat. Once in awhile she sat in for church service.”

“When she was there did she associate with any particular person?”

“ I can't truthfully say she did. Reverend Perkins was very protective of her knowing that with her mental condition she was vulnerable.”

“Other than you what other Caucasians lived at the Mission while you were there?”

“There was three, two women and a boy.”

“How old was the boy?”

“Nine, maybe ten.”

“Let's go back to your times at the city dump.

When you were there working did you ever see an automobile parked about fifty or a hundred yards from the dump entrance?”

“I remember working there one day when I happened to hear an automobile engine start. I looked over and saw it drive away.”

“Can you identify the car?”

“All I can say is that it was blue.”

“Did you ever see that car before or after that day?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Was that car a Chevrolet?”

“I can't say.”

“Do you know what day that was?”

“No.”

“Can you think of anything else Captain?,” asked O'Neil.

“No. I think you have covered everything. Mr. Anderson thank you for your co-operation. We appreciate it,”

said Wallace.

“I'd like you to notify us if you leave Schooner Beach and let us know where you are,” said O'Neil.

“I will.”

“Good. Now, Detective McKenzie will drive you back to Schooner Beach. Thanks again,” added O'Neil.

After McKenzie and Anderson left Wallace looked up as a civilian clerk entered the office. He then watched as the clerk handed an envelope to Mildred. The secretary glanced at the envelope then got up and walking to Wallace's desk said, “ This is for you.”

Wallace took the envelope and saw that it had been sent by the New Jersey Motor Vehicle Division. He opened the mail and removed the document that had been sent. He then said, “Son of a Bitch!”

“Something wrong?,” asked Woodson.

“This is a report from the Motor Vehicle Division

in reference to the Vin number you found and we submitted. It reads: Vehicle Identification Number CHMBB7083WD114221 is registered to Atlantic Garden Mission House, Said vehicle is a 1975 Chevrolet Malibu, color blue.”

“You got to be kidding,” said O'Neil.

“Did you ever see that car there?”, asked Wallace.

“No,” said O'Neil

Wallace reached for a file folder containing McKenzie's reports. He read page after page. Then said, “In all of his reports submitted in reference to the Atlantic Garden Mission House he constantly refereed to Perkins as Mr. Perkins. He either never asked the man his first name or neglected to add the name in his reports. That mistake has cost us weeks of time and money. I should kick McKenzie square in the ass,” said Wallace.

“In all fairness Captain I was there and made the same mistake,” O'Neil replied.

“Think Bill. Try to remember what either you or Tom said when you first met Perkins.”

“I still don't remember either one of us asking the man his name. All that comes back to me is that Tom remarked about Perkins smelling like vinegar.”

“Vinegar?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Neither one of you put that in your report.”

“I didn't think it was important.”

“ Vinegar can be used as a home remedy for treating impetigo. Impetigo is a highly contagious skin disease one that Ethel Lamb had.”

“Shall I go get Perkins?,” asked Bill.

“No. Not yet. While we wait from Tom to get back from Schooner Beach we'll prepare a search warrant. I think we have enough probable cause for it. Some of the facts may be circumstantial but the automobile tire impression at the crime scene should persuade the judge to issue the warrant. If he does then we can match fingerprints and of course the pubic hair. In addition let's include a search of the premiss. I'm betting we come up with a dark brown hairpiece.”

“Is that important?,” asked Woodson.

“To the Ethel Lamb investigation? No but if it solves the matter of a guy on the street accosting young girls?

Yes it becomes important. If Perkins is that guy then you can contact the girls parents and put their minds at ease. Carol, when the warrant is ready take it to the court and have the judge read it. If he has any questions answer them. If you have any question call me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“OK Mildred. Let's put the warrant together.”

“Are we picking him up today?”, asked O'Neil.

“No. First, I want the warrant. Next. I want things lined up. The Police surgeon for the pubic hair sample and at the same time the possibility of scars left from the impetigo. After that we'll take his fingerprints and make the comparison with those found on the glass shard. Perkins is not going anywhere. Right now he like all criminals thinks he's outsmarting us. Time is on out side. We'll pick him up

tomorrow.”

At ten thirty in the morning of the next day

Sergeant O'Neil and Detective McKenzie entered the office with Perkins. Wallace got up from behind his desk. “Mr. Perkins do you know why you are here?,” he asked.

“I was told that it had something to do with Ethel Lamb's murder.” Perkins answered.

“That's correct. For the record sir, what is your first name?”

“Ellsworth.”

“Ah, yes of course. Right now Mr. Perkins you are about to be advised of your rights under the Miranda Ruling. Before we do that I'll jump ahead a bit and Advise you that you do not have to talk to us and if you do you have the right to have an attorney of law with you. Do you understand?”

“Yes. However, I have done nothing wrong.”

“If you say so sir. If you say so. Bill, read Mr. Perkins the Miranda Rule.”

After O'Neil was finished Wallace said, “Now that you have been advised will you talk with us?”

“Like I said. I've done nothing wrong.”

“Right here sir I hold the warrant that was served on you at the Mission House. As you know by now it is a search warrant.”

“Yes, I know your men took my hair piece.”

“That warrant also gives us the courts permission to take samples of your hair and to examine your body.”

“By who?”

“The Police Surgeon a qualified medical physician.”

“What happens if I refuse?”

“It prolongs the matter.”

“Well, I refuse. I think I have the right now to say that I'm done with this questioning. I want, no I demand a lawyer.”

“Fine Mr. Perkins. You are now under arrest for the murder of Ethel Lamb. You will now be taken downstairs to the City Jail. Upon your arrival you will