Murdered Innocents (16 page)

Scott’s story skipped to the aftermath. He now claimed that he drove the car. “Maurice said, ‘Let’s go. Let’s get out of here. Go over to the mall parking lot. Drive around on the other side.’” As he recalled the story, he fiddled with his Dr Pepper can.

“Put your Coke down,” ordered Detective Hardesty. In Texas, a soda is usually called a “Coke,” no matter what brand it is. “Was Forrest in the car or not? You were not that fucked up.” The frustration in Hardesty’s voice was apparent. The tension ratcheted up several notches when he asked, “How many people were in that damn car?”

Scott did not answer. Instead, for the first time during the 6½-hour interview, he told the officers, “I want to go home.”

“You know, John,” Detective Lara said to Hardesty, “we ought to just take him to the grand jury. He don’t want to talk about it no more.”

Michael Scott began to cry softly.

“I can’t remember.”

“Just be a man and tell us what happened,” stated Hardesty.

“I’m trying to be a man, sir.” Scott paused for a moment and collected himself. “Are you telling me I went inside?” he asked.

“I know you went inside.”

 

 

“Can I tell y’all what I keep seeing in my head?” Scott asked.

“Tell us what you keep seeing in your head,” Hardesty said.

“I keep seeing these girls get shot.”

“Come on, Mike. You’re doing good.” Hardesty patted Scott on the arm again.

“I remember seeing them down. I remember one girl screaming, terrified. I don’t know if this is real or not, or if this—”

“Michael, it’s real,” Hardesty declared right in front of Scott’s face.

“I remember hearing a girl scream and run off. She runs towards the front of the door. Robert went over there and grabbed her. I remember them getting the girls down on their knees. He spun her around. We moved to where you couldn’t see out the doors. Out the glass, out front.”

“Did you shoot any of the girls?”

“No, sir.”

“Then tell us what fucking happened!” an exasperated Hardesty exclaimed. “Do you want to live with this for the rest of your life?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Then get it out right now. They’re fucking you over. Fuck them. Do it.”

“Maurice goes to the register. After . . . they got them behind the counter. They got them down on their knees. I think they were lying down? Maurice went over to the register and opened it up. And [I remember] him asking where the rest of the money is. One of the girls said, ‘There isn’t any more. They’ve already made their drop.’ Maurice got pissed off, losing his temper. I remember him pointing the gun at one of the girls. ‘Where’s the money?’ Maurice screams. She said she doesn’t know. I guess he pulled the trigger.”

“Did he or didn’t he? You saw this.”

“He pulled the trigger. He looked at the next girl. ‘Where’s the money?’ She said the same thing. He pulled the trigger. Kneeling on the floor.”

As Scott recalled his story, he stared at his lap. Hardesty told Scott to look at him.

Scott did as he was told, looked up at Hardesty, and said, “I remember standing in the back of the store. I think he shot them in the head. Temple, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Let’s try this,” said Hardesty as he patted Scott again, harder than before. The detective pointed to the photographs. Scott pointed at Eliza Thomas and Jennifer Harbison. He believed they were the first ones shot. He covered up their faces.

“There’s a big, fat fucking blank after that.”

Time for another smoke break.

 

 

Scott and Lara returned to the room. Three minutes later, Lara left. Seven minutes after that, Hardesty entered the room. One minute later, Lara returned. He grabbed his chair and pulled it right next to Scott.

“Turns out that there’s three in there,” Scott recalled. “I remember a lot of screaming. Rob found something to tie them up with. Maurice threw something at Robert and said, ‘Tie them up with this.’

“I can’t even remember going inside the place, guys. I don’t remember walking through the doors.”

“What were they tied up with?” Lara asked.

“I want to say extension cord. Something white. Napkins?”

“You can’t tie them up with napkins,” countered Hardesty.

“Give me a break,” added Lara.

“Was it an electrical cord?” wondered Scott. He recalled that two girls were crying. One was in shock. He said that the first girl shot, whom he believed to be Jennifer Harbison, cried before she was killed.

“‘The money’s not here,’ Maurice said. ‘There has to be more than that. The business day is over.’” Scott continued on. “Rob is looking for a safe. He’s getting stuff ready. He’s got something flammable. I remember a red can.”

Scott remembered Eliza Thomas began to cry. “‘It’s not here. The money’s not here. We can’t get to the money.’” Scott then painted the picture of Eliza’s death.

“I start to see the hammer fall and he shoots her in the head.

“Robert is getting the place ready to burn. I don’t remember what he used for the accelerant.”

As for Amy Ayers and Sarah Harbison, Scott said, “They were scared and crying. One said she didn’t want to die. All four were tied up.”

Detective Hardesty moved his chair ever closer to the young man. He was only six inches from Michael Scott’s face. “What were the girls wearing by the time they were tied up?”

“Not a whole lot. Used their own clothes to tie them up.” He claimed that Pierce and Springsteen tied up the girls.

“And by the time you were done, what were they wearing?”

“Nothing.”

Scott vividly recalled Maurice with the gun. “‘Where’s the money?’ I seen the first two girls bite it.”

“Where were they shot? Another gimme.”

“In the back of the head. Maurice shot the first one. Robert shot the second one. The two other girls are really crying and screaming then. I looked up and said, ‘This is wrong.’ Maurice looks up at me and says, ‘Open your mouth and you’re dead too.’

“I remember one getting hit. The butt of the gun. Maurice hit her.”

“Were you scared of those two boys?”

“Yeah.”

The nonchalant response did not please Hardesty. He mockingly parroted back, “‘Yeah. Yes, sir.’”

“At the time, yes, I was.”

“You helped Robert tie up the girls,” Hardesty stated.

“I think one of them told me to start kicking them.”

“They’re fucking nuts. They just shot two girls. What did they make you do?”

“I didn’t choke one of them, did I? I don’t think I raped one. I think one of them got raped. I’m trying to cut through a fog.” Scott paused for a moment, and said, “I can’t remember if I did it or not.

“They got her up on her hands and knees. And started going at her.”

“Did you do some of that girl, Michael?”

“No. I didn’t. I don’t think I did. I didn’t rape anybody. Robert raped one. Bent her over and got her. Went after her. I remember something about the neck.

“I didn’t strangle them with a garrote, did I?” he wondered aloud.

“I remember one of them getting raped. Because Robert had an itch.”

 

 

The story continued to evolve. “I think they made me bludgeon them.”

Detective Hardesty was only inches away from Scott. He patted him on the arm one more time.

“I’m trying to pull out of my head what the hell happened,” Scott proclaimed. All of a sudden, there was a knock on the interview door. Lara stood up and left the room.

“They didn’t make me shoot them, did they?” Scott asked.

“Did either Maurice or Robert make you shoot these two girls?” asked Hardesty.

“I think so,” Scott stated, admitting for the first time that he had a hand in the actual bloodshed. “Maurice handed me a gun. It was the revolver. I think he made me shoot them. Quick, easy kill, in the back of the head. The head. Temple. Or back. Back of the head.”

“Did he tell you to do that?”

Scott looked at Hardesty and said, “‘You shoot ’em.’ I said, ‘No.’

“‘Yes, sir. Either do it or . . . because we’re all in this neck deep.’”

“What did they do when you shot them?” Hardesty asked about the girls.

“One of them flopped and the other one didn’t make a noise.”

Scott claimed that his buddy and roommate, Springsteen, had pressured him. “Rob was watching me. ‘Do it, Mike. Do it or you’re next.’” He claimed Springsteen handed him his gun. “I think Robert shot one of the girls with it.”

“So, one of the girls, you’re saying, was shot twice?”

“No, I . . .” His voice trailed off. Detective Lara suggested another break. All three men left the interview room.

 

 

Michael Scott returned to the interview room. Three minutes later, Lara and Hardesty returned. The talkative Scott piped up again.

“He (Springsteen) may have shot one of the other girls again because she was still alive.” Scott shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t remember doing any of this shit.”

The officers changed course again. They asked about the fire.

“I think Maurice started the fire with a lighter on a piled-up bunch of stuff. Close to the girls. Napkins. Any paperwork. Any burnables. Towels. Styrofoam cups, things.” Scott started to cry. He told Lara, “I need to be in the store to tell you.

“I remember this shit is from the nightmares that I’ve had, dude. I was so catatonic, I don’t remember.”

Scott continued to cry. “I’m so afraid of what’s going to happen to me.”

Scott returned to the fire. “I think he piled them on top of them, to start the fire. But that doesn’t seem right.” It was the first mention that the fire was started on top of the girls.

“Who started the fire?”

“Maurice did. Actually, I don’t know who started the fire because I wasn’t looking. I just wanted out. Maurice was carrying shit. Robert was watching.”

Scott suddenly banged on the table with his hand. “I don’t remember walking through that door.”

He continued to talk about the girls. “I hear somebody getting slapped. ‘Either shoot them or you’re next.’ I remember looking at this girl. I cry. I hear the gun go off. I only pulled the trigger once. I turned around. ‘Here’s your stupid gun.’ I’m in shock by then. I hear another gun go off. I think I hear a total of five shots. I hear Maurice say, ‘Get over here and help me get this stuff together to cover our tracks.’ I say, ‘Okay. But I ain’t going to help you. I ain’t doing any more. You made me do something I don’t want to do.’

“I remember smelling something. Almost like a petrol smell, but not. Or oil burning. I hear, ‘Let’s go.’ Forrest was in the driver’s seat and took off.”

Scott had a propensity for switching back and forth around the story. “After tying the girls, Rob said, ‘Watch the front.’” He claimed Springsteen took off the girls’ clothes and handed them to him to hold. Scott admitted he helped tie up the Harbison sisters.

“I don’t want to go to prison. And the way it is now, I’m probably going.” He claimed that he only held the girls while Springsteen tied them.

Scott pointed at the photograph of Amy Ayers. He said he did not know what happened to her.

“Maurice was upset because the girls were screaming so much. He said, ‘Shut up or I’ll shoot you.’” He returned to Amy Ayers. “One of the younger ones. Hitting her in the head. Being handed the gun and being told, ‘Here. Shoot one.’ I said, ‘No, it’s not right.’ I remember the gun going off.” Scott began to cry softly again. He admitted, for the first time, that he shot Amy Ayers.

 

 

“I want to go home,” Scott told the detectives. “I can’t remember any more and I think I need a lawyer.” He placed his head in his hands. He ran his right hand through his hair.

Neither detective acknowledged Scott’s request. Instead, they suggested another break. All three men left the room.

 

 

Scott returned to the interview room. Two minutes later, Lara and Hardesty returned.

“Mike, do you need an attorney?” Hardesty asked. “Are you asking for an attorney?”

“I think I better,” Scott answered. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

The detectives asked him if he would speak to Detective Robert Merrill. They told him it would only be a short period of time.

“What would y’all suggest that I do? Be honest, ’cause I don’t know what to do, guys.”

“I suggest you talk to the case agent,” Hardesty answered.

“Well, bring it on then,” Scott replied defiantly. “That’s fine. Let’s just get it done.”

Lara and Hardesty both stood up and exited the room.

 

 

Austin police detective Robert Merrill, a nineteen-year veteran and member of the homicide division for seven years, entered the room. Detective Lara also sat in on the interview.

“Are you under arrest?” Merrill asked right off the bat.

“As far as I know, I’m not,” Scott replied.

“You know you’re free to get up and walk out whenever.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you shoot one of the girls?”

“I know what I’ve told them. I cannot honestly say whether I shot one or not.”

“What was Rob doing?”

“I think Rob was scratching his itch. I think he raped one of them.”

“Did they undress themselves?”

“They were ordered to undress themselves.”

“Did they?”

“Yeah. After a threat. Rob said it while holding a gun. Rob is controlling the girls. Maurice is looking for money. They’re crying. Not talking. Just crying. One of the girls says, ‘I don’t want to die.’ Rob said, ‘Shut up. Shut the fuck up.’”