[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
morning and Chief La Rue was waiting for me and took me right up to the
second floor to see Sergeant Brimmer. I handed the gun to him." Brimmer
and Henderson were fascinated with the gun that had lain in three inches
of water where the Naches lapped up over the island. The caliber was
right.
The long barrel was right.
It was an automatic. When they heard that the Klingele boys had
unwrapped white tape from the grips, they began to grin. But cautiously.
Now they had two casings from two murder scenes casings that had tested
as having been fired from the same gunand a. 22 caliber, long-barreled,
automatic Colt Woodsman with vestiges of white tape on the grips. The
crime lab would be able to tell them if the river gun had fired those
bullets. They also had to try to trace the peregrinations of that weapon
before it landed in the river. Whoever had tossed the gun into the
Naches had probably been headed toward Ellensburg or was coming back
from Ellensburg. And they surely had not known about the way the little
island below projected out into the river. Had they known, they would
have pitched the gun with a lot more force. Instead, the rusty old gun
had just been waiting there for someone to find it, its barrel moving
slightly with the tug of the current. It was almost eerie, when one
considered how the bullet casing had been waiting for Vern Henderson to
discover it. And now the gun had been found almost as easily. Murder
sometimes does will out, after all.
In this case, it was beginning to look as though luck were walking with
the Yakima police. Still, the detectives had no way of knowing how
convoluted this case would become. They had some promising ballistics
evidence. They had a lot of rumors, but they had no idea what the motive
behind the two murders was. That had all blown up on Christmas Eve when
their likeliest killer had turned out to be their second victim
Prosecutor Jef Sullivan met with Bob Brimmer and Vern Henderson. The gun
might prove to be vital to the case. At this point, they had no idea who
that gun belonged to or through whose hands it might have passed. But
they suspected someone out there would be sweating if heor she knew that
the weapon was now in the hands of the Yakima police. Most people have
seen enough television mysteries to know that guns can be traced, but
they don't understand the finer points of forensic ballistics. For the
moment, the gun was mentioned to no one outside the investigation. But
when a reporter from the Yakima Herald-Republic made his usual police
Page 76
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
department rounds on that Monday, February 23, he asked, as always,
whether there was anything new on the Blankenbaker Moore case. There
wasn't much, but Chief Jack La Rue casually mentioned that someone had
brought in a. 22 that had been found underneath the Twin Bridges. That
news story galvanized at least three readers into a panic.
Each felt that the police would know who had thrown the gun in the river
as surely as if they had scratched their names and addresses on the side
of the barrel. In the meantime, Vern Henderson was wearing a groove in
the road up to Ellensburg. Turfy Pleasant was growing used to looking up
and seeing Vern heading his way. It bugged him that Vern seemed to know
what was going on in his head. And the detective had picked up a lot of
things on the streets in Yakima, rumors and remarks made by some of the
guys Turfy ran with. Henderson had felt for weeks now that Turfy was
somehow connected with the two shootings, but he wasn't sure how or why.
When they talked, they talked in circles fencing and feinting.
Sometimes, Vern thought he saw sweat bead up along Turfy's forehead,
especially when Vern confirmed that they had, indeed, found a .22 in the
Naches River. "I told him how much we could tell from a gun," Henderson
recalled. "He didn't know we couldn't trace it unless someone came
forward, and he believed me that we were right next door to knowing who
the killer was." Turfy had brazened it out. He told Vern that he had
talked to a lawyer, and he "knew his rights. I don't have to talk to you
or Brimmer if I don't want to."
"That's right."
"What would you do if you were in my position?" Turfy asked suddenly.
"Well," Vern Henderson said slowly, "if I was in your position, I don't
know just what I would do. I mighti would get myself an attorney and I
wouldn't say anything." Henderson figured he'd just put his foot in his
own mouth, but the kid asked him, and he answered him straight.
Turfy stared back at him, weighing something in his mind. "No," Turfy
said. "I want to talk with you. I want to help clear this up." And they
kept talking until it grew cold and dark and Vern had to head back to
Yakima. Whatever Turfy had been about to say, he didn't say anything
definitive. He just wanted to know more about what police could tell
from a gun. Driving home, Vern was convinced Turfy knew who had killed
both Morris and Gabby. He wondered if Turfy had done it himself. And
then, as always, he wondered, if he did, why.2 Actually, the Yakima
investigators were both further and closer than they suspected from
finding the gun's owner. They didn't know it yet, but the old Colt had
come back from Vietnam and there was virtually no way to trace it. It
was of no more use than a "drop gun," a gun deliberately left at the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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morning and Chief La Rue was waiting for me and took me right up to the
second floor to see Sergeant Brimmer. I handed the gun to him." Brimmer
and Henderson were fascinated with the gun that had lain in three inches
of water where the Naches lapped up over the island. The caliber was
right.
The long barrel was right.
It was an automatic. When they heard that the Klingele boys had
unwrapped white tape from the grips, they began to grin. But cautiously.
Now they had two casings from two murder scenes casings that had tested
as having been fired from the same gunand a. 22 caliber, long-barreled,
automatic Colt Woodsman with vestiges of white tape on the grips. The
crime lab would be able to tell them if the river gun had fired those
bullets. They also had to try to trace the peregrinations of that weapon
before it landed in the river. Whoever had tossed the gun into the
Naches had probably been headed toward Ellensburg or was coming back
from Ellensburg. And they surely had not known about the way the little
island below projected out into the river. Had they known, they would
have pitched the gun with a lot more force. Instead, the rusty old gun
had just been waiting there for someone to find it, its barrel moving
slightly with the tug of the current. It was almost eerie, when one
considered how the bullet casing had been waiting for Vern Henderson to
discover it. And now the gun had been found almost as easily. Murder
sometimes does will out, after all.
In this case, it was beginning to look as though luck were walking with
the Yakima police. Still, the detectives had no way of knowing how
convoluted this case would become. They had some promising ballistics
evidence. They had a lot of rumors, but they had no idea what the motive
behind the two murders was. That had all blown up on Christmas Eve when
their likeliest killer had turned out to be their second victim
Prosecutor Jef Sullivan met with Bob Brimmer and Vern Henderson. The gun
might prove to be vital to the case. At this point, they had no idea who
that gun belonged to or through whose hands it might have passed. But
they suspected someone out there would be sweating if heor she knew that
the weapon was now in the hands of the Yakima police. Most people have
seen enough television mysteries to know that guns can be traced, but
they don't understand the finer points of forensic ballistics. For the
moment, the gun was mentioned to no one outside the investigation. But
when a reporter from the Yakima Herald-Republic made his usual police
Page 76
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
department rounds on that Monday, February 23, he asked, as always,
whether there was anything new on the Blankenbaker Moore case. There
wasn't much, but Chief Jack La Rue casually mentioned that someone had
brought in a. 22 that had been found underneath the Twin Bridges. That
news story galvanized at least three readers into a panic.
Each felt that the police would know who had thrown the gun in the river
as surely as if they had scratched their names and addresses on the side
of the barrel. In the meantime, Vern Henderson was wearing a groove in
the road up to Ellensburg. Turfy Pleasant was growing used to looking up
and seeing Vern heading his way. It bugged him that Vern seemed to know
what was going on in his head. And the detective had picked up a lot of
things on the streets in Yakima, rumors and remarks made by some of the
guys Turfy ran with. Henderson had felt for weeks now that Turfy was
somehow connected with the two shootings, but he wasn't sure how or why.
When they talked, they talked in circles fencing and feinting.
Sometimes, Vern thought he saw sweat bead up along Turfy's forehead,
especially when Vern confirmed that they had, indeed, found a .22 in the
Naches River. "I told him how much we could tell from a gun," Henderson
recalled. "He didn't know we couldn't trace it unless someone came
forward, and he believed me that we were right next door to knowing who
the killer was." Turfy had brazened it out. He told Vern that he had
talked to a lawyer, and he "knew his rights. I don't have to talk to you
or Brimmer if I don't want to."
"That's right."
"What would you do if you were in my position?" Turfy asked suddenly.
"Well," Vern Henderson said slowly, "if I was in your position, I don't
know just what I would do. I mighti would get myself an attorney and I
wouldn't say anything." Henderson figured he'd just put his foot in his
own mouth, but the kid asked him, and he answered him straight.
Turfy stared back at him, weighing something in his mind. "No," Turfy
said. "I want to talk with you. I want to help clear this up." And they
kept talking until it grew cold and dark and Vern had to head back to
Yakima. Whatever Turfy had been about to say, he didn't say anything
definitive. He just wanted to know more about what police could tell
from a gun. Driving home, Vern was convinced Turfy knew who had killed
both Morris and Gabby. He wondered if Turfy had done it himself. And
then, as always, he wondered, if he did, why.2 Actually, the Yakima
investigators were both further and closer than they suspected from
finding the gun's owner. They didn't know it yet, but the old Colt had
come back from Vietnam and there was virtually no way to trace it. It
was of no more use than a "drop gun," a gun deliberately left at the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]