Special Agent Page 10

  “There is sufficient information to conduct an investigation.

  “Do you have further information you would like to share?”

  “Was there ever a missing persons report filed, that might have fit this guy?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Has anyone come forward to claim the body?”

  I don’t know, J.W. How about you answer some of my questions?”

  “You only had one.”

  “Two”

  “Two? No, I distinctly remember… oh yeah. You asked me why you should be involved, and you asked me if I had any further information to share. You’re right, that was two questions. I already answered the first one. Well, Tony, call me when you get the appointment set up with the Rusk County Sheriff.”

  “Are you going to answer my questions?”

  “That’s it, stick to your guns. Now you’re starting to sound like a homicide investigator.”

  In response, Tony growled into the phone.

  “Take it easy, big guy. No need to use the rubber hose. I’ll talk. Yes, I have further information, and I’ll be happy to answer your questions.”

  “Come down to the station. I want you to make a statement.”

  “I was afraid you would say that.”

  “Right now, J.W., do it now.”

  Tony prefers to do everything by the book, and he’s a stickler for procedure.

  For me, rattling his cage is kind of like a hobby.

  It makes me smile.

  Nineteen

  I found Diondro sitting in Tony’s office. They were in the middle of a conversation.

  “… we’ll be changed. We’ll have bodies just like the body Jesus had after his resurrection,” Tony was saying

  “Hey,” I said, by way of greeting.

  “What’s up?” Diondro asked, with a nod.

  “The heavens,” I responded.

  Diondro considered my answer and chose to ignore it.

  “On another subject - I hear you know something about a dead body.”

  “Some, maybe, it’s too early to know enough. It isn’t really a different subject, either. Tony was telling you about how our human bodies will be changed into glorified bodies, when Jesus returns.”

  “Yes, but it’s pretty far-fetched, kind of impossible, really.”

  “Not really, a caterpillar changes into a butterfly.”

  “Yes, but the process requires a living caterpillar, a cocoon, and time for the metamorphosis.”

  “So, your problem isn’t with the idea of the change, it’s with the amount of time it takes?”

  “No, the whole thing seems pretty ridiculous. It’s like science fiction.”

  “Well, many things that used to be science fiction have become everyday facts. Take robots for example. Once they were science fiction. Today, mass produced robots do everything from assembling cars, to vacuuming our swimming pools, houses, and even mowing our yards. We learn new things every day. What we are used to today would have been considered magic not so long ago. Should we discuss cloning or bio-engineering?”

  Diondro saw an opportunity to change the subject.

  “I’ve been learning a lot about crime and our legal system, by just watching and listening to what goes on around here.”

  “I’ll bet you have.”

  “John, I would like to learn a few things myself.” Tony interrupted, pointing to the other chair in front of his desk.

  I sat where I had been directed.

  Tony pulled out a digital recorder, turned it on, and set it on the desk between us.

  “I am Detective Lieutenant Anthony Escalante, of the Robbery/Homicide Division of the Tyler Police Department. The current time is eleven forty one, A.M., Friday, the sixteenth day of June. I am interviewing Mr. John Wesley Tucker, who wishes to make a statement about information he has, related to a possible homicide.”

  He looked at me.

  “Mr. Tucker, you are not under arrest, so I don’t need to read you your rights, but this is the first part of an official investigation into a possible homicide. Are you ready and willing to make a statement and to answer some questions?”

  I smiled at Tony.

  “Yes, Lieutenant Escalante.”

  He scowled at me.

  “Mr. Tucker, will you please explain why you called me and asked me several questions about whether or not a certain unidentified body had been found in the general area?”

  I smiled again.

  “Yes, Lieutenant Escalante.”

  Tony gritted his teeth, his jaw muscles bunching.

  “Please tell me why you made those inquiries and what information you may have about the remains.”

  I took a moment to gather my thoughts.

  “I’m a licensed private investigator. One of my clients is a law firm, currently handling the legal affairs of a man who worked for a local construction company. Their client was injured on the job. They believe there was gross negligence on the job site, which was the cause of the serious injuries their client suffered. I have been tasked with finding witnesses to the incident and to gather any other information which might support their client’s case.”

  Tony nodded, and encouraged me to continue, with a hand gesture.

  “In the course of my investigation, I interviewed two men who had worked for the company in question. They told me a man they used to work with had been in an altercation with the man who is the foreman for the construction company. They told me the foreman beat their friend, and then took him away in his truck. They never saw their friend again,” I concluded.

  “Mr. Tucker, did these men tell you they thought their friend had been murdered?” Tony asked.

  “No Lieutenant, they did not. They told me the foreman was cruel and vicious, but they didn’t make any statement as to what they thought might have happened to the missing man.”

  “What is the missing man’s name?”

  “Eduardo Ruiz. He is or was a male of Hispanic origin, about thirty years of age.”

  Tony looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he stopped the recorder.

  “J.W., that isn’t much to go on. We don’t have any kind of a missing persons report. It sounds like this guy could be an illegal immigrant, from south of the border somewhere.”

  “Yeah, Tony he is or was a Mexican national, from Mazatlan.”

  “J.W. did it even cross your mind he may have just gone back to Mexico.”

  “Sure, but the men I spoke with knew him and his family. They told me no one has ever seen him again. Around the time he disappeared, someone happened to find the decomposed and mutilated corpse of a Hispanic male. You know how I feel about coincidences.”

  Tony nodded, and started the recorder again.

  “Is this why you contacted the department and inquired about missing persons or unidentified remains?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant, I thought I remembered hearing on the news, something about someone finding a dead body, a few months ago.”

  “Is there any other information you have, that would help us identify the remains, or prove this Mr. Ruiz was murdered?”

  “The missing man, Mr. Ruiz, went missing in November. Not one person saw him or spoke to him after he got into Mr. Watkins pickup truck. As I understand it, the unidentified remains were found just a few weeks later, near Henderson, in Rusk County. That’s the same general area where those men were working, on the day Mr. Ruiz disappeared.”

  “Who is Mr. Watkins?”

  “He’s the foreman for the construction company and the man they told me had beaten Mr. Ruiz. I am told he also cut Mr. Ruiz with a knife, on that day, just moments before he drove him away from the job site.”

  “Is there anything you wish to add to your statement?”

  “No, that’s pretty much all I know, so far.”

  Tony nodded and turned off the recorder. He leaned back in his desk chair.

  “Now I have a question for you…” I started.

  Tony held up his h
and.

  “I am not at liberty to discuss any of the details of an ongoing homicide investigation.”

  “What? I thought you said there was no indication there had been a homicide.”

  Tony looked over at Diondro.

  “Diondro, would you go get me and Mr. Tucker a couple of cups of coffee?”

  Diondro nodded.

  “Sure, and I’ll bet you would like me to take my time doing it.”

  Tony nodded back at him, with a rueful smile.

  “No need to hurry.”

  When Diondro had left his office, Tony leaned forward on his desk.

  “Well, J.W. Off the record, it so happens the coroner was able to determine a cause of death,” he said, quietly.

  “Oh boy, here we go. Fill in the blank. Death by…?”

  “… Multiple stab wounds. There were nicks and cuts on several of the bone surfaces, consistent with a steel blade. These marks were not the marks left by the animals tearing the body apart. Some of the marks were on the bones in the arms and hands. Those would be consistent with defensive wounds. He was clearly stabbed to death, by someone who was enraged. And there was another rather odd mark...”

  “… Let me guess. Was it found on the breast bone?”

  “How did you know?”

  My witnesses said Watkins carved a mark in Mr. Ruiz’ chest, what was the mark?”

  Tony sighed and looked down at his hands.

  “It was a cross, J.W.”

  Twenty

  That afternoon I went to the home of a man by the name of Frank Overton. Mr. Overton had contacted us with concerns his house might be bugged. He believed his telephone conversations and other communications in his home were being electronically monitored, by persons unknown. It was unusual because private citizens were seldom bugged, unless they were involved or suspected of being involved in some sort of criminal activity. Even then, it could be difficult for a police agency to get a warrant to do electronic surveillance, unless there was a suspected threat to national security or involvement in organized crime. My cursory check into Mr. Overton’s business activities ruled out any sort of corporate espionage.

  He was however, a Certified Public Accountant. It would not be unusual for a CPA, like Mr. Overton, to have conversations with clients in which sensitive private financial information might be discussed. In these days when identity theft is so common, nothing could be overlooked. Additionally, some accountants can have odd bedfellows.

  I was pretty curious to see what was going on in the Overton home office.

  I rang the doorbell, and was greeted by a man of about forty years of age. He was tall, maybe six-two or so, and had what had once been an athletic build. The years had softened him and he was a bit on the heavy side now, with a balding head. What hair he had left was obviously dyed a deep chocolate brown and combed over the top of his head. He was wearing a white dress shirt open at the neck and dark grey slacks.

  “Mr. Overton, I’m John Wesley Tucker, we spoke on the phone.”

  “Oh, right, right, yes. Do you have some form of identification?” he asked.

  It was annoying, but probably to be expected of someone with cause for concern about their privacy and security.

  “Yes, sir, will my driver’s license do?”

  “Is that all you’ve got?”

  I produced one of my business cards as well. I have two types. One is my actual business card; the other just has a beautifully embossed name on it - Earl Hightower. It’s an alias I’ve found useful on occasion.

  He pulled a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket and proceeded to carefully study my credentials.

  “Oh, OK. I guess you are who you say you are, come on in.”

  I entered a dark foyer that gave way to a darker living room. He had all of the window shades drawn and there were no lights on. The television was the only light source in the room, casting everything in a bluish hue. It was showing “Haunted humans” or some such “reality” drivel, about people searching for ghosts in old buildings.

  I smelled a foul odor, but could not be sure of its source.

  “What makes you think your home might be bugged?” I asked him.

  He was lost in the television show.

  “Mr Overton, I said, what makes you think your home might be bugged?” I spoke more loudly this time.

  He looked at me and blinked several times.

  “What makes you think it isn’t?”

  “I won’t have any idea until I bring in my equipment.”

  “Well, go get it.”

  I went out to the truck and retrieved my RF, VLF, UHF and infrared scanners.

  Mr. Overton took an interest in the scanners.

  “Hey, that looks a lot like some of the equipment the ghost hunters use to capture energy from the spirits. Do you believe in spirits?”

  “That would depend on what you mean when you say ‘spirits’. There are many different ways the term is used.”

  “I mean ghosts and demons and unseen entities. They are all around us, you know? Only the gifted can communicate with them, though.”

  I considered how to respond.

  “Are you a person who believes dead people become ghosts who stay around to haunt people and places they knew when they were alive?”

  “Absolutely, it’s why they have these TV shows.”

  “Well, if that’s true, then there would have to be billions of ghosts. Can you imagine everyone who ever died, throughout all of human history, still here with us? They would be everywhere. I read in the Bible, it is appointed that people only die once, and after that they are judged. It says, to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. The Bible also says in several places and in different ways, it’s evil to attempt to communicate with the dead.”

  “Phaw!” He spat. “You Bible thumpers are an ignorant lot. No one knows what becomes of our spirits once we die. They say sometimes a person’s ghost stays around, because they have unresolved issues. I believe there are spirits all around us. I hear them sometimes, myself.”

  “Mr. Overton, I agree with you about unseen spirits. Have you ever heard of the Holy Spirit?”

  “Phaw!” He spat again. “I’m not interested in organized religion. There is more that goes bump in the night, than you religious people can possibly imagine.”

  I decided to return to the subject of electronic monitoring.

  Mr. Overton said he had no idea exactly which rooms might be bugged, so we started with his office.

  This room also had a blue hue to it, magnified by the only light source, his computer monitors. There were three of them. One was showing the same television program as the one in the living room. There were no ground line telephones in the room.

  “I only use my cell phone these days. I have a fax machine hooked up, as you can see, but it gets very little use, anymore. Almost any document is sent faster and more securely as a PDF file, attached in an e-mail.”

  There was a lot of electrical interference in the room, but I was able to determine there was nothing in the room that Mr. Overton had not put there himself.

  After going through the rest of the house, I was certain there were no electronic listening devices or other devices, except those Mr. Overton had himself placed in the building. The temperature in the attic was at least thirty or forty degrees hotter than in the house. I sweated through my shirt in about two minutes. After a very thorough search, I was certain there were no electronic devices on the premises in any way out of the ordinary. I was surprised there was a television in nearly every room including the master bathroom. I also noticed a variety of totems, masks, and native artwork items in the house. These were from diverse parts of the world. Some I recognized as objects of worship in other, more ancient cultures.

  The problem wasn’t someone attempting to steal identities or other sensitive information from Mr. Overton.

  The problem was much worse.

  “Mr Overton, do you watch a lot of television?”


  “Of course, it’s never turned off. It’s my source. I get all my news, weather and entertainment from it. There are great programs on the education channels which I find informative and thought provoking. I’ve learned a lot from TV.”

  “Yes, I can see you have. I’ll bet you’ve learned a lot from the internet as well. How do you know whether what you have learned is the truth?”

  “Truth, what is truth? I mean, you know, all truth is relative. What is true for you may not be true for me? Your truth is not my truth. What is true today may not be true tomorrow. It’s all a matter of personal perception. Science has certainly proven that.”

  “Has it? Science hasn’t actually proven anything. Proving things is neither the purpose nor the process of science. Science is merely the study of creation, through observation and experimentation. Occasionally, science arrives at conclusions, but they are often incomplete conclusions and frequently wrong conclusions. Science is all about studying evidence, gathering data and conducting experiments, not about arriving at conclusions.”

  He thought about my statement for a moment and then he changed the subject.

  “If there are no bugs in the house, why do I feel as if I am constantly being watched? Do you think there might be hidden cameras?”

  “There are no bugs or hidden cameras here, Mr. Overton. You are right about the spirits but they are not ghosts. If you’re hearing the voices of unknown spirits, then you are in grave danger. It is important to test every spirit. I will pray God protects you, but you must be more careful about what you invite into your home, your heart, and your head.”

  “Nonsense, I don’t believe in your God!”

  This man was hearing voices and he believed in ghosts and other spirits, but he denied the existence of God. I knew this attitude was fairly common in our culture, except for the part about hearing voices.

  “It seems you believe in many gods. It appears you have your own god. You said the television was your source. You might want to reconsider the altar, at which you worship.”

  “I don’t need any advice from you. Clearly, you are some kind of a nut. Send me your bill.”

  I packed up my gear and looked over at Mr. Overton.