Mind Switch (9 page)

Cooper said, “A bond hearing will be held in a couple of days. The defense attorney wants a month to prepare his case before it goes to trial. Based on the savage nature of the crime, both of us know in advance that Slivers will be denied bail.”

The meeting broke up, and each of the participants went in their different directions. Fred was becoming increasingly frustrated at the continuing presence of Paul in each of his meetings with the chief. After Fred received his promotion, he had thought that his selection by the board had been unanimous. But now he realized that his being picked for the job may have been based on a simple majority, and not a unanimous vote. If so, he suspected his chief did not vote for him at all, but in all probability had voted for Paul. This is great, Fred thought. Not only am I not respected by my subordinates, but I also most likely have no respect from my immediate superior!

He briefed Jim on the meeting with the chief and DA. He told Jim he was going to assign a segment of the investigation to Paul. “As much as I hate to assign Paul any work on the case, I feel that by involving him it will keep him, in the short term, from being a constant critic. But I’ve decided not to tell Paul about our findings on the bank video. Any facts in that area will be kept between me, you and Jan.”

At that point Fred called Paul into his office. Fred said, “I am going to personally interview Mrs. Slivers to see if she can shed some light on the case. Jim, you and Paul check into the backgrounds of all those that were in the bank at the time of the shooting to see if there was any link between the victims and Slivers. I fully understand that this might be a wild goose hunt; but if the shootings in the bank were not random, then perhaps we can unearth the real reason behind them.”

He put Jim in charge of this segment of the investigation, a decision that obviously did not sit well with Paul. Fred realized that nothing Fred did would satisfy Paul, so the hell with him.

Chapter 18

When Paul and Jim left his office, Fred called Mrs. Slivers, identified himself, and asked to see her. She was less than enthusiastic but reluctantly agreed to meet him at her house in a half hour.

Fred had learned from experience that he had to structure interrogation techniques on a selective situation basis depending on the personalities he was confronting. When dealing with the accused, the key was to let them believe he had more evidence then he really had. This frequently resulted in the inadvertent release of details of the crime or, if he was lucky, a confession. When more than one individual was involved in a crime, his preferred method was to play one against another. Rarely did loyalty come to the forefront in such cases. And once one party started talking, it was relatively easy to accomplish the same with the other.
 

The most difficult aspect of any investigation was that which he was about to do. He had to get information out of the loved one of a spouse accused of murder. His approach was to appear sympathetic while at the same time obtaining as much incriminating evidence as possible. Not only was the task difficult, it went against his very principles. He very much wanted to give this task to Jim who had the finesse to succeed in these delicate situations. But he hadn’t delegated the assignment for two reasons. First, he needed Jim to help keep tight reins on Paul. Secondly, it would not be fair to give this objectionable task to Jim. After all, Fred realized, he was now making the big bucks and had to deal with the assortment of responsibilities that came with it.

The Slivers’ home was in the remote eastern boundary of Sarasota County. The development’s gated homes were significantly larger and more expensive than those in most areas of Sarasota. Fred surmised that one had to have a fairly high annual income to purchase and maintain a house of this size. Paul wondered if Slivers’ position as the head of an insurance agency would provide him an adequate income. Jim had conducted a thorough financial paper trail and concluded that Slivers was well off. Fred needed to verify that for himself. On the other hand, even if there was a money problem, it didn’t seem to have any link to the murders.

Fred knew the area well, although he had never actually been in the development. The development’s swampy land had been elevated through the use of thousands of tons of fill dirt. Arcadia, the closest eastern small town of any magnitude, was over 40 miles away with no lifeline gas stations or restaurants in between. At night the small two lane road was often occupied by alligators seeking new breeding grounds as dominant males would drive out smaller ones from their watery domiciles. But within the tranquil urban setting of the area in which the Slivers lived, many of its residents lived out their peaceful lives without ever seeing the predatory creatures of the night that lurk and kill just a few miles beyond their backyards.

Fred jumped into his bright red Miata, and went east on Fruitville Road, out to the development in which Slivers lived, a trip which took about twenty-five minutes. It would have taken only about fifteen during the summer, when the snowbirds were not populating the county. A local radio disk jockey joked every winter with the question, “If this is snow bird season, why can’t we shoot them?” Fred wondered how many vacationers from the north continued to listen to that station after hearing the same joke time and again.

Fred followed the street numbers until he reached the address. The front lawn was well manicured with two palm trees on each side of the walk leading to the front steps. Like many Florida houses, it was constructed of cement block which had the collective advantage of saving on building costs and discouraging year-round ravenous termites. Off to the side of the house was a small lake. In the north, Florida’s lakes would be at best classified as ponds since they are usually employed as small catch basins capturing runoff water during heavy rains to preclude flooding of the low lying lands. With an average altitude of only 13 feet, Sarasota needed all the methods it could muster to prevent flooding. On the far shore of the lake, Fred observed an anhinga drying its wings.

He knocked on the front door; Mrs. Slivers opened it immediately. She was impeccably dressed in a navy blue blouse and a tan skirt that fell just below her knees. She was a middle-aged woman who Fred guessed to be her mid fifties. Her hair was just starting to show faint traces of silver. Fred projected that the total transformation to gray was probably another ten years or so away. He appreciated the fact that she did not attempt to disguise her age but was dressed appropriately for her mature years. He showed her his badge, she nodded.

Without smiling, she said, “I have been expecting you, Lieutenant. Please come in.”

She pointed to a peach and aqua upholstered sofa. He took her cue and sat; she sat down in a matching chair across from him. The floor was tiled in a white ivory color with a darker cream grout, a popular choice for Floridians since tile provided a cool surface underfoot, much appreciated during the burning summers. The living room was spacious, to say the least. Fred could see past the formal dining room to a large enclosed swimming pool in the screened lanai. Framed pictures of what Fred suspected were their children at a very young age, were situated on both end tables. Pictures on the wall across from him displayed her and her husband at the beach, hugging two older children posed in front of them. Those are the same children, Fred surmised, with age progression. He thought he recognized them from the picture that was in Slivers’ office. Nothing in the house appeared out of place. It was well cared for; and the expensive furnishings indicated they were the property of an upper class family.

She opened the conversation directly. “Lieutenant Harris, I’m not sure I have any desire to talk to you. I have been contacted by my husband’s attorney and he cautioned me about talking to anyone from the police department without his presence.”
 

Fred said, “I understand and if you feel that anything I ask you is inappropriate you’re free not to answer me, is that reasonable?”

She reluctantly nodded and said, “I guess so.”

Fred asked if the pictures on her end tables were those of their children.

She said, “Yes, I’m very proud of both of them. One is now a computer scientist and the other a veterinarian.”

So far to Fred this seemed like a typical upper class family. No signs of a crazed killer living here.

Fred decided to attempt to probe the financial situation of the family. “I can understand your reason for being very proud of the success of your children, Mrs. Slivers. Higher education is very expensive nowadays, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is; we are so thankful that both our children were industrious and worked their way through college. That helped significantly as did their scholarships.”

Fred thought to himself, so far, there seemed to be no financial reason that Slivers would be robbing a bank or acting as a hit man for some unknown reason, not that he ever suspected that was the case.

She offered Fred a cup of coffee. Fred hated the thought of coffee, but wanting to have an excuse to stay for awhile, Fred replied, “No, thank you; but a glass of ice water would be nice.”
 

While she was getting the water, he decided on his next approach. He concluded that he would be totally honest with her and solicit her input on that basis alone without any distortions or attempt to coerce. When she returned he said, “Mrs. Slivers, I have to tell you I have talked to your husband’s employees and they could say nothing but positive things about him. He appears in their eyes to be of the finest character.”

With tears in her eyes Mrs. Slivers said, “Yes, then I don’t understand why you are accusing him of this crime. I just talked to him at the county jail and he told me he didn’t have anything to do with it; and, Lieutenant, I can assure you that my husband does not lie. Maybe you don’t know that he is a respected member of the community and a deacon in our church.”

Fred thought, great, in the eyes of the world, not only should this guy not be accused of murder, he deserves to be put up for sainthood.

“Mrs. Slivers, I am not challenging the fact that your husband was a valued member of the community or a good husband. I am simply trying to reconcile that with the fact that he alone was responsible for the murder and injury of several innocent people.”

She responded in anger, “That’s not true, that is simply not true!”

Fred waited a few seconds and speaking in a calm voice said, “Mrs. Slivers, we have a videotape of your husband with the murder weapon in his hand, shooting bank customers and bank personnel. Your lawyer has been provided with a copy of the same tape. There’s no question that he did it.”

Mrs. Slivers’ response offered the same rebuttal logic that had troubled Fred earlier, “Why would he try to rob a bank? More money at this stage in our lives is the last thing we require in this world.”

“I understand; and like you I don’t believe he entered that bank with the intent to rob. The question is, why did he enter the bank, what was his purpose?”

Mrs. Slivers was silent for what seemed like minutes. When she finally spoke, her composure had returned and she seemed for the first time to have taken in the reality that her husband was in fact involved. “I don’t know, my husband has not been depressed or unhappy about anything in our lives. The only thing—”

“—Yes” Fred interrupted, “What were you about to say?”

“Well, this can’t have any bearing but Jim has become rather forgetful lately.”

Fred could not see how this could possibly link to the crime, but he asked her to provide more details.
 

“Last week he often came home from work much later than normal and he couldn’t remember where he had been. We even made an unscheduled call to our family doctor fearing Jim might have an early onslaught of dementia. Jim was tested and the results indicated that he had greater recall than the vast majority of men his age. Our doctor said forgetfulness often stems from the pressure of work. He suggested we take a cruise and relax for awhile. Officer, our cruise is scheduled for a couple of weeks from now. Oh, God, will we ever be able to take it now?”

Fred had empathy for this very devoted wife who had a hard time processing the reality of the situation. He spoke to her very softly, almost at a whisper level. “Mrs. Slivers, unless we can find some breakthrough in this case which would prove your husband innocent, I really don’t see how. I can only promise you that I will try very hard to understand what went on; and if the facts support your husband’s innocence I will do all I can to make sure he is released. But to be realistic, I can’t see at this stage how that can happen.”

As he made this statement, Fred realized that he was being purely honest both to the grieving wife before him and to himself. If for some reason Fred found Slivers to be innocent, he knew at this very moment that he would resign from the force before he would see him convicted.

Fred asked, “Were there any other recent problems that your husband had—anything at all?”
 

Mrs. Slivers paused before she spoke. “No, other than the fact he just stopped smoking; that has had a mild irritating effect on his personality.”

Fred nodded, mentally dismissing nicotine withdrawal as a reason to commit murder.

“If you can think of anything that might help your husband, here is my cell phone number. Call me day or night. Please take care.”

Chapter 19