Mind Switch (10 page)

When he returned to the station, Jan told him that two more videos had come in from the bank. She said she already had them copied into DVDs.
 

“Thanks,” he said, “how many DVD players do we have in the station?”

“Only one.”

Fred said, “Round up two more.”

She said, “Well, I can probably get them from the DA’s office, but why?”

“Because I need to view the shooting simultaneously from as many perspectives as I can; maybe a range of views will uncover something we previously missed.”

As he entered his office, he noted both Jim and Paul were busy checking addresses from the list of bank employee and customer names. Jim had already compiled a list containing the members of the church Slivers attended, his addresses for the past twenty years, the names of his past high school and colleges, and a list of all of his present and former employees and employers. Both Jim and Paul were so deep in thought they didn’t notice him enter.

Picking up one of the lists, Fred noted that Jim had divided the master list into two segments. The segment that Jim had retained for his own interviews included the next of kin of those killed in the bank as well as an assortment of other customers and employees. Paul’s list had no next of kin on it.

Good decision, Fred thought to himself. One of the many things Paul lacked was discretion and empathy. He would be the worst person in the world to interview the grieving relatives. Delicacy was not Paul’s strong point; but at the same time Fred wondered, what in heaven’s name was his strength? At any rate, he thought, both Paul and Jim will be armed with detailed information on Slivers’ past; so if there was any possible match with his victims or intended victims it should show up.

He asked Paul how he was coming.

“Good, I found and recorded the addresses of most of the people on my list.”

“Great” Fred said, “The interview process will take a few days so we need to get started. You can finish looking up the addresses when you arrive tomorrow.”

Paul said, “Okay,” and left the office, list in hand.

Jim said, “I better get started as well.”

“No,” Fred replied, “the additional bank videos are in. I want you and me to look them over without Paul around.”

In a few minutes Fred and Jim were seated in rock hard un-cushioned chairs around the conference room table. Three DVDs were projecting simultaneously on three TV screens. Jan was assigned the duty of stopping all three on command. This time all three of them tried to focus directly on Slivers’ actions, even to the most seemingly insignificant detail.

Fred noticed for the first time, that Slivers had taken a moment to quickly scan the lobby of the bank before he drew his weapon and started firing. None of those present in the room could determine who or what he was focusing on, even after playing the DVD several times. They all felt that he seemed to be concentrating toward the left side of the lobby. Those ultimately killed in the melee, however, were from all parts of the room. One video projection clearly showed Slivers firing and another video camera situated behind Slivers showed the immediate impact of his firing. The third video provided a close up of the tellers’ cages and the customers in front of those cages. That projection didn’t seem to provide any additional information, so Fred told Jan to shut that DVD player down.

With only two DVD players operating, the three participants started noticing things previously overlooked. Jan noticed that at selective times, Slivers seemed to stop firing and then after a brief pause he would start again.

“Maybe his weapon jammed or he got tired from holding it?” Jim offered.

“Perhaps,” Fred responded, “but, as you know, jammed weapons don’t normally clear by themselves. I believe the temporary halt in the firing was the result of human intervention, not weapon malfunction.”

“Well, he certainly wasn’t through with his massacre, because after a momentary pause he started firing again,” Jan injected.

After an hour went by all the DVD players were turned off. Fred said, “Okay, Jim, give me a summary of your impressions. And, Jan, I want you in this discussion as well.” Jan blushed with pride. This was the first time she was actually involved in a police role other than purely administrative and secretarial. Fred did not include her to boost her ego; he felt she had an exceptional grasp of details.

Jim opened the dialogue. “Well, I’m not sure; but I believe Slivers was looking for something or someone before he started firing. I also believe the firing was periodically halted for a reason; but for the life of me I can’t guess what.”

Jan offered one more explanation for the interruption in the firing. “Perhaps,” she said “he’s unfamiliar with using a weapon.” She continued, “If it were me firing the weapon, I would quickly grow tired holding the trigger down and supporting the weight of the weapon.”

Fred reflected on her statement. “Good, Jan. Certainly, Slivers didn’t seem to be a man familiar with guns, so your reasoning might be on target. Jim, I guess that after years of police work, a tired trigger finger is not something we would think of.”

Fifteen minutes later the discussion had produced no further insights. Fred said, “Okay, let’s think this over after a good night’s sleep. I think we’ve exhausted our ideas for this day; but it was useful brainstorming.”

But to himself, Fred thought, “Damn! We’re no further along than we were before we started viewing the videos.”

Chapter 20

Fred decided to take off early from work. Of course, early was a relative term since he had been working over twelve hours a day since his promotion. He needed desperately to clear his head and was looking forward to bouncing some of his ideas off Maureen. Perhaps she could help crystallize them into something meaningful, but right now they seemed to consist solely of unlinked random impressions. He called her about a half hour before he left the office.

Their home was an unpretentious small two-story house in the northern section of the city not far from the John Ringling Mansion.

After dinner he and Maureen settled down in the living room, he with his favorite Mexican amber beer, and she with a mellow chardonnay that she had purchased from the Vanderbilt estate when they vacationed in the North Carolina Mountains the past summer. Fred found Maureen to be an effective sounding board as well as a valued independent objective observer; her ideas were free from bias or political and emotional detractors.

Maureen listened silently as Fred described the events of the week. At times he ruminated over the conflicts between his chief and the District Attorney as well as the sensitive political position he had recently been placed in. For the second time since his promotion, he wondered if he was really suited for this job.

His story was interrupted by their three pound Yorkie, Molly, who jumped on his lap carrying her favorite tiny toy. Her message seemed to be, “Can’t you understand that nothing in life is more important than playing fetch and retrieve with a Yorkie?” Her unexpected arrival brought an all consuming laughter, something he had not experienced for days. The next few minutes were fully occupied with Fred and Maureen throwing a stuffed cotton bunny across the room, and having Molly continuously retrieve it.

His play time with his toy terrier and the verbal catharsis he gained in his discussions with Maureen had re-energized him. He decided to provide Maureen with additional details of the case. She had a doctorate in psychology and a great appreciation and understanding of the nuances of human behavior. New theories in her field emerged everyday; paradigms altering old standard theories were becoming the fodder for best sellers. Fred realized that evolving theories were based on more massive amounts of factual data than ever had been witnessed in the past. CAT scans could now isolate which brain areas were activated by all types of emotional and stimuli. A limited number of savants had the ability to articulate how their unbelievable mathematical and memory skills were formed and executed. New frontiers were being breeched continuously, revealing numerous hidden secrets behind human behavior. Fred realized he had a great asset, who might be able to provide answers to the mystery behind Slivers’ actions.

Maureen had everything—brains, beauty, and an unending enthusiasm for life’s new experiences and adventures. Together they had walked on Alaskan glaciers, hiked Pike’s Peak, and fallen asleep on the snow white sands of Siesta Key after watching the sun fading over the Gulf of Mexico. Most important to Fred was the fact that they loved each other unconditionally. He often thought back during their dating period four years ago when he first met her through an on-line dating service. They both had to fill out an extensive questionnaire, which if completed honestly, was intended to find matches with potential partners who possessed compatible personalities and interests. Initially they both wanted to meet informally. Then, if either felt the other was not a good connection, they could depart gracefully and move on to the next computer match. Maureen had selected Barney’s coffee shop based on its informal, open atmosphere, although at the time she didn’t know Fred was not and never had been a coffee drinker. Fred’s initial thought was to object to her choice; but he figured a conflict arising prior to their meeting was not pragmatic, so he deferred to her selection. Maureen was tall, almost 5’9”; and that day of their first meeting she wore two inch heels which made her tower over Fred as they met face to face—or in this instance face to neck.

Fred was conscious of his height or lack of it; and when she first walked through the door he immediately had conflicting thoughts. His first thought was what a beautiful woman, with glistening brilliant red hair, a slim petite body and without, he was intuitively sure, the normal associated egoism. Contrastingly, he thought, my God she is tall! He had always avoided dating taller women. He suspected it was genetic conditioning passed through the ages, first brought about by the cave man’s desire to be physically superior to his mate based on his need to protect his women.

He was wearing a red tie and she a pink rose clipped to her blouse, the identifications they had selected for their first meeting. From that day forward the die was cast. Each anniversary they would wear that which they wore on their first meeting. She procured a fresh rose every anniversary of their first date; he wore the same tie that he wore during their first meeting—a tie, which by now, was spotted with an assortment of food stains from their three years of annual celebrations. For purely nostalgic reasons he strongly resisted any attempt by Maureen to get it cleaned. Maureen was flattered by his romantic side, but only a bit more than she was turned off by his unsettling tie selection.

They got along immediately, although the computer had apparently hit a few glitches in matching them up. She was a liberal, while he tended to be more conservative. She was firmly against the death penalty, he for it without qualification. She loved to sleep late; he was an early riser and had been his whole life. Somehow their opposite takes on life eventually proved unimportant. They both loved to walk on the beach, both appreciated animals, the smaller the better, and they shared a disdain for bigots of all types. They were both highly analytical in their own fields and enjoyed playing off ideas with each other. Soon the differences in height became insignificant, although she never wore heels again. And somehow he was able to find the latest men’s shoe styles that provided him with a very slight lift.

They got married three months after their first meeting. Each year they celebrated their union at Barney’s and for the entire first year since their meeting to the present day, Fred never acknowledged that he hated coffee. To Fred that was a small price to pay for unending matrimonial bliss.

At times, however, he did not understand her moods. She would take long solitary walks, sometimes in the middle of the night. During those periods she asked him not to join her. Fred realized that this was most likely her method of coping. She had been brought up by an abusive father and an alcoholic mother, a burden that continued to haunt her memories in adult life. Still there were times when his comments to her were frequently met with total silence, sometimes lasting for hours. He wished during those periods he could understand what she was going through. It seemed to him that during those prolonged periods a dark side of her personality had opened. However, when she emerged from these silences, she was her old self again except that she would never reveal to him what she had just experienced. She had an I.Q. in the stratosphere. With that much intelligence, Fred thought, maybe she somehow perceived and processed things and events much differently than he.

Maureen listened carefully to Fred’s description of the case. He spent all of his time reflecting on the bank case since data was extremely limited in the theater murders. Beyond that, without a suspect in the latter case, it would be impossible for Maureen to apply her refined, psychological insights.

After he had finished describing how Slivers acted in the video he had viewed, he wished he had brought a copy home so she could view it to share his impressions. Maureen asked how Slivers’ peers and employees described him. He said, “Everyone we’ve talked to said he was cheerful and very unassuming. He loved people and he was very detailed and dedicated.”

“When he entered the bank,” she asked, “would you say he reflected the same personality attributed to him by his peers?”

Fred said, “Yes, I think so. In fact he warmly greeted some customer who was just leaving the bank.”