Authors: Cathy Perkins,Taylor Lee,J Thorn,Nolan Radke,Richter Watkins,Thomas Morrissey,David F. Weisman
Bowden recognized the plate. It belonged to the red Corvette. He
had jotted it down in his notebook when the car had pulled up the driveway. He
had also written down the time of arrival and the time of departure.
“Nora Six,” the dispatcher said. “Your plate is clear and
current to an Andre Fonck out of Kirkland.”
“Received.”
David One came over the radio without identifying himself. “Nora
Six, do you have that vehicle?”
“Negative.”
There was a pause before David One spoke again. “The last name
matches the D.O.A. Where did you get the plate from?”
“It was written in a notebook the suspect had in his possession.”
“Received. Bring him to my location.”
The arresting officer got on the air. “Nora Three will do the
transport.”
The dispatcher’s voice answered again. “Received. And David One,
what about the rental car?”
“Impound as evidence.”
“Received. Radio will be on the line with Lincoln.”
Nora Three opened the door and slid behind the wheel. He flashed
Bowden a smile. “So, how are the cuffs?”
They were cutting into his wrists and turning his hands blue,
but he didn’t answer. The deputy shrugged and put the car into reverse.
He turned to look out the back window and flashed him another
smile. “Most people complain about them being too tight.”
Bowden smiled back and said, “How many make a formal complaint
in writing?”
“Crap.” Nora Three shoved the car into park. He climbed out of
the car and Bowden turned and put his back to the door so the deputy could get
to the cuffs. Once he had loosened them, he climbed back into the patrol car.
The rest of the trip was made in silence.
The drive leading to the ancient white house was blocked at the
street by two patrol cars with their overheads flashing. One of them pulled
forward so that Bowden could be driven through. Six marked units and two
unmarked cars were parked near the house. Another vehicle, shaped like an ambulance,
but with “King County Mobile Command Unit” written on the side, was parked in
the driveway.
The deputy driving him picked up his radio. “Nora Three’s
arrived. Where do you want the suspect?”
“David One. Bring him to the Command Unit.”
“Received.”
The deputy opened the back door and Bowden climbed out. The
deputy grabbed the cuffs and wrenched them up behind his back, so that the
steel applied pressure to the wrist bone. He winced, but refused to say
anything.
The door of the Command Unit opened, and he stepped inside the
vehicle. Three people were inside, one of them wearing a suit.
That one spoke to the deputy who brought him in. “Have you read
him his rights?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay.”
The suit pointed at a chair, and Bowden sat down. “You have the
right to remain silent…”
Bowden sat silently and listened to his Miranda Warning as read
by the person he knew only as David One. The guy was about the same size and
build as himself and maybe even the same age. He wore a dark blue suit that had
been tailored to his athletic frame.
The suit tossed the card onto the command unit’s desk when he
was finished, and asked, “Do you understand your rights?”
He nodded.
“I’m Detective Cooper. Sorry about the cuffs, but I can’t take
them off in here. You understand, with all this stuff around.” Cooper waved a
hand at the electronic equipment that surrounded them. “But it sure beats
sitting outside. I got to tell you though; it looks like you’ve been outside a
while.”
Chase looked at the square jaw of the man who was speaking to
him, then scanned upward until he stared into the detective’s brown eyes. “It
appears that I am under arrest but no one has told me why.”
“Really? Take a guess.”
“Parking in a ‘no parking’ zone?”
“No.” Cooper smiled. “Well, I guess you can’t blame me for
trying, though I didn’t think you’d come right out and say, ‘murder,’ but
you’ve obviously played the game before.”
“I want a lawyer.”
Cooper picked up the Miranda card. “Hell, I haven’t even asked
you a question yet.”
“I want a lawyer.”
“Okay. You can call one from the station.”
Bowden nodded towards the cell phone sitting on the table. “I’ll
use that.”
“Your call will be monitored and recorded. That phone is relayed
through the dispatch center.”
“I don’t mind.”
“You’ll sign a waiver?” Cooper asked.
He smiled at him. “Of course.”
The detective slid a drawer open and rummaged through it. He
found a piece of paper that had the words “wire tap” written across the top.
With a pen he crossed out certain lines and hand-wrote “two party consent” on
the form. He then printed and signed his own name and printed Bowden’s name on
it. He spun the paper on the desk for Chase to read.
“That will work.”
Cooper held the pen over the paper, and Bowden grabbed it with
his hands still behind his back. It took a moment to move around so that he
could reach the paper in the correct spot, then he signed it.
“This will be on speaker phone,” Cooper advised.
“That’s fine.”
Bowden gave Cooper the number, and he dialed it.
As the phone rang, Cooper asked, “New York?”
He nodded.
The phone was answered on the other end by a male. “Hello?”
“Mister Fonck, this is Chase Bowden, and before you say anything
you need to know that the call is being monitored and recorded by the King
County Police. Detective Cooper has informed me that I am under arrest for
murder, and I assume that I will be booked into the King County Jail. I will
need a lawyer.”
“Very well.”
Cooper stepped closer to the phone. “Mister Fonck, this is
Detective Jim Cooper.”
“Hello, detective. Monitoring a phone call to a lawyer violates
client/attorney privacy rights. This is highly irregular.”
“Yes, it does. But, uh...the suspect here, Chase Bowden, was
supposed to be calling a lawyer, not a…um, relative, as I assume you are, of
the victim.”
“Who is the victim, detective?”
“A Mister Adam Fonck.”
“Thank you. Adam was my nephew. I am Bowden’s lawyer. Chase, you
are hereby being instructed by your attorney to remain silent. I’ll be in touch
with you soon. Goodbye… and detective, you have the wrong man.” The line went
dead.
Cooper slammed the phone on the counter and glared at his
suspect. “You bastard!”
Bowden grinned.
“How do you know Fonck? Do you know the victim? How well did
they know each other?”
He shook his head. “Detective, I’ve been advised to not answer
any of your questions.”
“Shut up!” Cooper said.
The two uniformed deputies laughed.
Detective Cooper spun on them. “Shut up!”
“Hey,” one of them said, “I want a lawyer.” They both started
laughing again.
Cooper picked up the radio and keyed it. The two deputies were
instantly silent, though they couldn’t wipe the smiles from their faces.
“David One. I need a transport for one to K.C.J.”
“Received,” said the dispatcher. “Nora Three?”
“Nora Three. Received. I’m still there.”
Escorted outside, he stepped from the Command Unit to the patrol
car and slid into the back seat. As soon as the young deputy put the car in
drive, he cranked up the radio to drown out any questions that Bowden might
have for him. The station played a variety of ‘80’s rock and touted itself as
The Point.
Other than the sheer volume of the music, he enjoyed listening
to Rod Stewart, Phil Collins and others as they made a forty-five minute trip
into downtown Seattle—the last twenty minutes of which was spent sitting
in traffic on the I-90 Bridge.
Later Bowden stood in the fish bowl on the north side of the
booking counter and waited his turn. It took almost 30 minutes for the deputy
to complete the S.I.R., which was used as the booking form. He would have liked
to get a look at the statement of probable cause that the deputy had written on
the back. He wondered if they could list anything other than circumstantial
evidence and answered his own question, knowing that the medical examiner
hadn’t even made it to the crime scene yet. They couldn’t even place him in the
house.
He was given a red jump suit, new underwear, and new socks. He
paused a moment before putting the jump suit on. Red was for violent offenders.
He stood between two guards as he rode the elevator up. When the door opened,
he jammed a finger in his own eye.
It started watering and he rubbed it. His eye turned red and his
nose started running. He started to sniff, and as he stepped through the last
door into the population, he began to move his hands and head in fast jerky,
motions. His glance darted from one prisoner to another, and they began to back
away. They had the idea now that the new guy was whacked out on PCP or
something, which assured him that he wouldn’t be messed with.
He slept well that night, had his probable cause hearing at nine
the next morning, and was released by ten, with the judge giving the arresting
officer a stern warning about having sufficient evidence for an arrest.
At noon he drove a rented two-door Mercedes back to Issaquah to the
ancient white house. The rain fell heavily. Rivulets of water poured down the
long, dirt driveway, running between the two patrol vehicles parked in front of
the house and the yellow police tape. Huge fir trees stretched far up the
mountain behind it, softening all sound. He walked up to the patrol cars,
shielding himself with an umbrella, and keeping his new clothes dry.
One of the deputies rolled his window down a crack. “Can I help
you?”
Bowden looked past him at the house. It looked empty. “Is
Detective Cooper here yet?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
He made an act of looking at the rain. “When he gets here, tell
him I’m already inside.” He walked towards the yellow tape.
The deputy jumped out of his car. “You’re not going in there.”
Chase stopped. “How long do you think I’ll have to wait?”
“At least an hour.”
He shook his head. “That’s a lot of wasted time. I could get a
lot done in an hour.”
“Go wait in your car, and I’ll give him a call. What’s your
name?”
“Chase Bowden. Just tell him I’m here. I’m sure he’ll be….”
He never finished. A movement inside the house caught his
attention; a shadow passing across a window. The form was indistinct. The
fedora wasn’t. He started running, dropping the umbrella, which landed upright,
catching the rain. He hit the yellow tape and snapped it. His hand reached
inside his coat for his Glock, but it wasn’t there.
“Stop!” The deputy yelled. “Stop now!”
He glanced over his shoulder and saw both of them chasing him.
That was good. They both had guns and apparently didn’t know who he was. The
department was big enough that they might have assumed he was from a different
precinct. He hit the front door with his stronger shoulder and the frame split
from the impact. The door burst open, swinging wildly on its hinges to crash
against the wall.
“The back door!” he screamed to the deputies. “Go to the back
door.”
He ran straight through the house with one of them on his heels.
The other one swung away and ran around the side of the house. He was the last
one to reach the back yard. Bowden flew through the doorway and sprinted across
the yard, as the gray figure disappeared into the woods again.
He spun to the nearest deputy. “Get a dog out here.”
He pointed to the second one. “Get on the radio and set up
containment.”
Close. He pounded his fist in his hand. Too close to lose the
man again. He spun around and looked at the opening in the woods. The guy knew
the area well. Maybe it was another Fonck.
The first deputy had finished transmitting. “How long for the
dog?” Bowden snapped.
“Thirty minutes.”
“What about containment?”
“It’s coming.”
“Get in your car. Get the lights and siren going and drive west
for half a mile then just drive up and down the street. Let’s see if we can get
this guy to go to ground until containment arrives.”
The deputy took off for his car.
Bowden turned to the other deputy. “Get hold of Detective
Cooper. Tell him what’s going on, and that he has a dirty crime scene.”
The deputy keyed his mike.
“Not over the air!” Bowden yelled. “You don’t want this
information recorded. Use a phone.”
The deputy left and he was alone, pacing in front of the woods.
Waiting and getting soaking wet. He squinted against the rain and looked up at
the clouded sky. Gray. What an ugly, lifeless color. It haunted him.
Who was the man in gray? Why had he come back? Where was he
from? Where did he go and how did he travel?
Questions without answers. For
now.
The first sirens could be heard in the distance. They were close
now. He hoped one of them was a K-9 unit. If he could catch this guy, he could
get some answers. He heard cars arriving, but they didn’t come up the driveway.
These were the containment units. Ten minutes later more sirens could be heard.
He watched the trail impatiently. The cars stopped out front, and a dog barked.
The dog was a black lab, wearing a green harness with the gold
King County emblem and a flashing red light. The handler wore a green jump suit
and was accompanied by a deputy. The dog pulled in the harness and whined as it
was restrained.
The handler stopped near Bowden. “Where’s the track.”
He pointed between two trees. “He went through there. No one
followed him past this point.”
“Did he have a weapon?”
“Didn’t see one.”
The handler looked back at the deputy. “Looks like you’re my
runner.”
The deputy nodded and pulled his gun. The handler led the black
lab to the spot between the trees and patted the ground. The lab sniffed
around. When the handler gave him eight feet of the leash, the lab took off
through the trees. The deputy ran fifteen feet behind the K-9 unit. His job was
to watch the trail for an ambush, not to watch the dog.
Chase Bowden walked back to his car and turned on the heat. The
windows fogged up and he switched the heat over to defrost. He sat in the
Mercedes and listened to the rain thumping on the roof. Forty-five minutes
later an unmarked car drove up and parked by the remaining marked unit. The
back door opened and the lab jumped out, followed by his handler. They climbed
into their own unit and drove away.
Two minutes later the front door on the unmarked unit opened,
and Detective Cooper stepped out. He looked at the broken police line and at
the smashed front door. Bowden waited for him to make a decision, and felt
satisfied when the detective turned away from the house, sloshed over to the
Mercedes, opened the passenger door, and slid in.
The two men sat in silence for a moment. Cooper spoke first. “My
deputies kept telling me you were a cop, but then couldn’t tell me who you
were.”
He waited. Cooper would have to tell him soon, but he already
had a good idea.
“We didn’t get him.” Cooper turned in the seat to face Bowden
more directly. “The dog followed the track straight to a stream. Then the track
wound through the woods until it came to a clearing.”
Cooper paused for a while, but Chase wasn’t going to help him. He
knew that if he waited long enough, Cooper would keep talking. The impetus was
his.
“This clearing was the same clearing where we found you
yesterday. One of the guys drove to that spot and waited, just in case. So I
think the dog followed an old track.” He jabbed a finger at Bowden. “Yours.”