Broken Doll (9 page)

Special Agent John Reikes of the FBI, based in Seattle, was part of the evidence response team. “At the onset of a missing or potentially abducted individual case, we will respond to assist the local police departments,” he explained. “In my experience as an investigator for twenty-eight years and working with missing children cases, in many instances, unfortunately, we find that they have either been sexually assaulted or killed, and we look for hairs; we look for fibers; we look for blood residue; we look for other particular matter. And all this is done microscopically and beyond the capacity of the naked eye.”

In the processing of Clark's van, Agent Reikes's naked eye did notice items of significant interest. “There were actually a number of items that were visibly stained,” recalled Reikes. “There were stains in the sleeping bag, and discolorations on the sleeping bag, and we discussed having those analyzed.”

There was also a pillow and pillowcase, numerous blankets, and other items in the van that were wrapped and sealed in evidence bags, and initialed by Agent Reikes. “We do that for two reasons,” he explained. “The first is to preserve the integrity of the evidence. If any hairs or fibers fall off, they'll be contained in the wrapper. And the second is to protect the chain of custody so I can come back and identify the particular item.”

Also on the evidence response team was Agent Mark Meinecke of the FBI. “My specific assignment on April third was the taking of photographs and assisting in the search of the vehicle. We took various samples of carpet and drapes and insulation from the van, and we typically obtain samples of this nature for hair and fiber examination later on.

“Typically,” said Meinecke, “these samples contain various fibers for hair and materials, and those items would be sent in for examination in the laboratory to match any fibers or hairs that were recovered later.”

When Meinecke took drape, carpet, and insulation samples, he had no idea which of them, if any, would be of evidentiary value. “None of the samples taken from the van were selected because we could specifically identify them as being valuable evidence. We took the samples to test for hairs and fibers that might possibly be of evidence.”

In addition to FBI agents and Everett police, Michael Paul Croteau of the Washington State Patrol Crime Laboratory contributed his experience as a forensic scientist to the investigation. Trained in biochemistry, Croteau is knowledgeable in blood spatter patterns, and received on-the-job training at numerous crime scenes.

“I examined Richard Clark's van with Ingrid Dearmore, a forensic scientist from our laboratory. We brought two different types of chemical tests for blood. One of them is used for taking a little swab of a suspected bloodstain and testing it, and the other one that you spray—the end product is a bright green color that shows up against lots of surfaces.

“When we go to a crime scene and we are conducting a presumptive test, we are trying to figure out if a stain that looks like blood is really blood. The lab technicians back at the lab will do the actual determination of whether it's human blood or animal blood.”

Croteau and Dearmore conducted such presumptive tests on Richard Clark's van. “We removed all manner of items so that the entire inside of the van could be sprayed,” recalled Croteau.

While the FBI was processing Clark's van, Herndon returned to the Doll residence. “My purpose was to collect any comparison evidence, such as hair, saliva, et cetera, which could be compared to any physical evidence removed from the van,” said Herndon. “I met with Gail Doll at approximately eight
P.M.
and she provided me with a fingerprint card that had been completed on Roxanne at her elementary school.”

Gail also provided an elastic hair tie that contained strands of the victim's hair and Roxanne's toothbrush. Also present was Gail's brother-in-law, William D'alexander, who told the detective that Richard Clark called him that afternoon complaining about his van being impounded.

“He said how screwed it was that he wasn't able to have his van,” said D'alexander. “Richard also asked how come everyone thinks that he's involved in everything. He told me that Tim's tent was still in the van. He said that one of the cops told him that he was a definite suspect.”

If the cops were suspicious of Richard Clark, he was equally suspicious of them. A man with something to hide needs a place to hide it, and when that something is the truth, the best place to hide is behind a lie. Richard Clark's truth needed more than one lie, and more than one friend or relative willing to manufacture excuses and explanations.

That following day, and for the above-mentioned purpose, Richard Clark paid a personal visit to half brother Elza. “I was outside working on a lawn mower with my dad,” said Elza. “Richard and Carol and Jesse and Grandpa all pulled up in Carol's car. Richard again asked me to say that there was deer blood in his van from a poached deer, but I refused. I told him not to talk to me about it anymore. I'm not going to lie. I told him that if anyone came to talk to me about it, I would tell them that I didn't have no deer in that van.”

According to Elza, Carol Clark asked him to grant Richard's request and verify the poached-deer story. “I told her the same thing that I told him,” said Elza. “I told her that I wasn't gonna say nothing about no deer blood in Richard's van.”

Detectives knew nothing of these conversations until four o'clock that afternoon when Jimmy Miller contacted Lloyd Herndon of the Everett Police Department. “Elza told Jimmy and Jimmy told us,” recalled Herndon.

“According to Jimmy, Richard Clark and Carol Clark had driven to Elza's residence and again had told Elza to tell us about deer blood in the van. According to Jimmy, Carol Clark also emphasized the same thing in regards to the blood. Jimmy added that his parents had told him that Richard had left his white pair of tennis shoes at their house on the evening of April 1, 1995. These white tennis shoes had apparently been left in George Clark's grandson's bedroom. Toni Clark and George Clark observed pinkish or red stains on the tennis shoes. Richard Clark apparently left his white tennis shoes and took his father's black tennis shoes from the residence. According to Jimmy, the tennis shoes had also been damaged. The last time the parents saw those shoes, they were not damaged at all.”

Based on prior information, Detective Burgess drove out to the Clark residence and interviewed both parents and Elza. “I drafted a second search warrant,” recalled Herndon, “requesting the white tennis shoes located in a bag outside the residence. Richard Clark did his best to hustle up alibis and backup for various versions of his activities and whereabouts on the night of March thirty-first. He was under surveillance by both the Everett police and the FBI.”

“After Mr. Clark's van was impounded,” said Detective Herndon, “we called in Vicki Smith for a witness statement. I was pretty sure that she wasn't going to confirm Clark's story that she was along for the ride on March thirty-first, and she didn't.”

“I was watching the news on channel eleven at eleven o'clock,” Smith told detectives. “Richard and Jimmy pulled in with Richard's van, so it was between eleven and eleven-thirty. They were both pretty intoxicated.”

Vicki Smith, admittedly tipsy during the interview, insisted that she was sober the night of March thirty-first. “I wasn't drinking because I don't drink that much, you know, and I was pretty broke, 'cause Saturday's the first of the month and that's when my check comes in. I get monthly grants from public assistance, or DHS or IAU, because I'm a disability from work from eleven and a half years of fishing.

“When Jimmy came in,” said Smith, “I told him that his girlfriend, Lisa, was up at the house and he was all excited because he would be seeing her. He stayed there at the house with her, and then Richard turned around and stayed maybe twenty minutes; then he left. That was around midnight. He didn't say where he was going. He asked me if I wanted to go with him, and I said, ‘I ain't climbin' in that van with you; you're intoxicated man—you could wipe out somebody and kill me too,' you know.”

Smith recounted the drive-by avoidance of the Doll residence following the return from the abruptly ended camping trip, plus her Saturday-night foray to Aaron's Restaurant. “I slept the night at my daughter's house, there on the couch,” said Vicki Smith. The following morning, Kenny, her boyfriend, picked her up and took her to Carol's. When she went to retrieve her two sleeping bags from Richard Clark's van, one of them was missing. “I kinda wondered, ‘What the hell?'”

She then told detectives about a matter of more-than-minor importance that transpired on Sunday, April 2.

“Jimmy Miller and me, we got a ride to the store,” said Vicki. “We went in and got a case of beer, and then we stood out there by a telephone pole.” Noticing her listeners' quizzical expressions, Vicki Smith politely explained the telephone pole's potentially lifesaving feature. “Ya see, if you step up by the telephone pole and you stick your thumb out, they have a chance to pull over to pick you up. Okay? Drivers just can't stop in a fifty-or-forty-five-mile-an-hour zone. If they stop all of a sudden, that's gonna cause a wreck, you know?”

As fate would have it, the vehicle graciously pulling over by the telephone pole contained Richard Clark, Carol Clark, seven-year-old Jesse Clark, and Richard's senile grandpa. “It was Richard's aunt's car, I think it's, uh, a Grand Prix,” said Vicki. “Carol's dad is real, real old. Man, he's senile. He don't know anything, you know. The little boy was laying down in the seat, and when I climbed in, I kinda put his little feet, you know, over my legs.

“So, he picked me up and I go, like, ‘Whoa, what's all this? What are you doing out this way?' And he goes, ‘Well, the cops . . .
blah, blah, blah.
'”

“You have to be more clear, Vicki,” prompted Detective Herndon. “
Blah, blah, blah,
isn't quite specific enough.”

“Well,” she responded, “that was it, you know?”

They didn't know; they asked.

“Okay,” she said wearily. “He said somethin' like cops are lookin' for him or somethin' like that; I'm goin', ‘What the fuck for?' And he says, ‘Well, they think I'm the suspect for doing something to Roxanne,' and stuff like that. He seemed kinda nervous and worried. He was just, you know, babbling on and stuff; well, see it's hard for me now because I'm drunk, you know, kinda. But he didn't seem himself, though; he seemed kinda worried, strange, stressed, yeah, that's how you'd say it, stressed, just not himself. And I'm going, ‘What?' 'Cause see, I wasn't told at the time about Roxanne Doll, and I didn't know about that other little girl either,” she said, referring to Feather Rahier.

It was Jimmy Miller who, earlier that day, asked her if she knew about what Richard did to Feather Rahier back in 1988. She didn't know; Jimmy told her. “What do you think happened back in '88 when Richard abducted that five-year-old?” Herndon asked her.

“Oh, my God.” Vicki began sobbing.

“I wonder whose sleeping bag he took that time? Of course,” continued the detective, “he didn't have a chance to use a sleeping bag.”

Vicki Smith cried harder, imagining what horrid things Richard Clark perpetrated upon Feather and, most recently, upon young Roxanne Doll.

“I'm just a person, okay? And Jim's just a person, and I can't . . .” She couldn't finish the sentence.

“Listen, Vicki,” Herndon said, “let me speak, okay? I can't read minds; I wasn't there; I don't know what happened to this little girl. If I knew . . .”

“If somebody did something like that to my daughter, I'd shoot 'em,” declared Vicki through her tears. “There wouldn't be any fuckin' jail.”

“That's right,” agreed Herndon, “and I'd do that; I'd do that if somebody did that to my child too.”

“It could happen to my grandson,” said Vicki, “and he's not even a three-month-old baby yet.”

“That's right, it happens all the time. There are many sick people out here. They don't walk around with a big tattoo on their head saying ‘I'm a pervert,' or ‘I'm a pedophile'; they're just everyday people.”

Vicki Smith controlled her tears, composed herself, and asked Detective Herndon an insightful question: “How did my daughter know?”

“What do you mean?”

“She told me when she was fourteen years old,” explained Vicki. “She said, ‘I don't trust Richard, Mom. I asked her why and she says, ‘I just don't trust him, Mom.' Nobody had ever told me about that little Feather girl. Nobody, nobody, told me about her until this morning. Jimmy told me. He said, ‘Aunt Vicki, do you know anything about what Richard did to that little five-year-old little girl?'”

“Would you cover for Richard?”

“I wouldn't cover for anybody that would do anything like that to a little girl. I wouldn't. If Richard did do it, he needs to get some help.”

“That's right, he does. And . . . and he doesn't need people covering up for him. Right, Vicki?”

“That's right,” she agreed through tears. “I'm not going to cover up for nobody.”

“And you're willing to take a polygraph test? Okay, the sleeping bag, you're willing to show us the sleeping bag that matches the one missing from the van and possibly turn it over to us?”

“You can have it,” she said willingly. “You can have it. Anything to help, okay? You can have it. It's in the back of my truck, where I put it after I took it out of Richard's van that Sunday morning. It's locked. My boyfriend, Kenny, has the keys. If you meet us over there in a little while, you can have it. It has not been out of that truck since I put it out of the van into the truck.”

The tearful Vicki Smith left the Everett Police Department after providing a taped, transcribed, and signed statement. “We originally were going to polygraph her that day, but we didn't do it,” recalled Herndon. Her honest emotions bespoke volumes, and detectives had other urgent evidentiary matters. “Our next stop,” said Herndon, “was Carol Clark's house.”

Carol Clark answered the door and allowed officers into the residence. “She also provided keys to the garage and shed,” Herndon recalled, “which was searched by the Washington State Patrol and Detective Olafson.”

“They were taking pictures of our home; they were out in the garage,” recalled Carol Clark. “They were knocking at the door, they were taking pictures of my car and everything, and they were seizing things. The police came and searched the garage, I think, three times, and the house once.”

“Detective Kiser and I went through Richard Clark's clothing and attempted to locate any that had possible stains present,” said Herndon. “According to Carol Clark, she had washed all the clothes, but we did locate some clothing with stains on them. These were secured, packaged, and impounded. While on the scene, it was determined that Carol Clark's vehicle should be searched for any trace/evidence.”

This vehicle was not included on the initial warrant, but Carol Clark voluntarily consented to a complete search of her vehicle. All evidence located by Detectives Herndon and Kiser was located to the southwest corner of the residence. “Apparently, Richard Clark maintained a dresser by the washer and dryer that contained his clothing, and several boxes were on top of this dresser,” Herndon reported.

Clark's Dodge van, held at the Everett service center, would undergo yet another round of scientific scrutiny the following day, subsequent to another search warrant, and Detectives Burgess and Phillips were dispatched to the residence of Toni and George Clark to collect one pair of white tennis shoes left there by Richard Clark on the night of March 31.

There was other surveillance shadowing Richard Clark in addition to local law enforcement and FBI agents. Representatives of Everett area media were also tracking the “likely suspect,” Richard Clark.

“The attention her family was receiving from the media,” said Detective Burgess, “was very upsetting to Carol Clark. In fact, she called and complained to the Everett Police Department. I wasn't available when she called, so she left a message. On April fifth, I called her back. She didn't come to the phone, but Richard Clark did.”

“My aunt Carol isn't available,” Clark said. Burgess then asked Clark if he had been in touch with an attorney. “I've got an appointment with one at three o'clock.”

“If the news media is bothering you,” Burgess told him “and if the news media are causing problems in regards to contacting an attorney, I can arrange transportation for you.”

“Well, at this point, I don't need no transportation, but I'll get back to you if I need that, okay?” The conversation concluded, Burgess went about his business. A few minutes later, he received a phone call from Richard Clark.

“When they searched my van,” asked Clark, “did they find any evidence?”

“I can't comment on that, Mr. Clark,” replied Burgess, and the conversation ended. Clark, however, had another important conversation on his agenda—a face-to-face sit-down with Tim Iffrig's part-time paramour, Clark's aunt, Vicki Smith.

“It was between five and six in the afternoon,” recalled Vicki. “I was doing laundry. Richard and his aunt Carol arrived in her car. She waited in the car; he got out and started walking over toward me. That little puppy of his was tagging along.”

Smith was carrying a basket of laundry from the house toward the clothesline behind her trailer. “I walked right past Richard without saying a word to him,” she said, “and he asked ‘What's the matter, you mad at me or something?'”

Smith replied honestly, “Yeah, I am mad at you. I had to go to the police station to fill out a statement.” She didn't tell him of her tearful conversation with detectives regarding her shock of hearing about the Feather Rahier incident, nor her fears that Richard Clark kidnapped Roxanne Doll. Her statement, of course, contradicted Clark's sudden improvisation to Agent Lauer that she was with him all of Friday afternoon and evening.

“What did you say to them?” Richard asked Vicki.

“The truth.”

“You did?” Richard was visibly disappointed. “Did you tell them that I was with you Friday night?”

“No,” said Smith. “I wasn't with you Friday night because you were drunk, and I don't ride with nobody when they're drunk.”

She later commented, “I was mad at him because I felt that he wanted me to lie for him. I looked him in the eye and I said, ‘Richard, did you do something to that little girl?' He didn't answer me. He just stood there with this scared look on his face.”

Just then, Jimmy Miller and his girlfriend, Lisa, showed up. Vicki had already shared with Jimmy and Lisa her concerns about Richard and her conversations with Detective Herndon. Richard, perhaps seeking comfort, acceptance, or camaraderie from his brother's girlfriend, followed Lisa into the house. If acceptance was his goal, it was not achieved. Lisa turned on him with unmistakable disgust. “Leave,” she demanded harshly. “Leave right now and don't ever come back.”

Richard Clark said nothing in response. He stood there as stoic and silent as when Angela Rono beat upon his chest. He reached down, picked up his puppy, walked out of the house, got into Carol's car, and they drove away.

“Surveillance team members informed us that Richard Clark had gone to Vicki Smith's residence on April fifth at approximately four
P.M.
, along with his aunt Carol Clark,” said Herndon. “We drove out there and spoke with both Vicki Smith and Jimmy Miller, asking them about Richard's visit. To say they were not exactly thrilled to see him would be an understatement.

“The way we heard it, Richard told Vicki that she had been with him Friday evening on March 31, 1995. Vicki told Richard Clark that, no, she had not been with him Friday night and for him not to ask her to lie, and, I guess, Lisa went up to Richard and told him to get the hell out of there.”

The question of blood in the van was again raised at 5:15
P.M.
when the Washington State Patrol crime scene team reported that their examination of Richard Clark's van revealed numerous bloodstains. “They told us that this was a presumptive test,” said Herndon, “and we wouldn't know until the next day if this blood was of an animal, such as from a poached deer, or human, as from Roxanne Doll.”