To Probe A Beating Heart (36 page)

             
“Okay, but if you do catch wind of anything, I mean anything at all, you come to me. This is not how we function and their involvement is completely unacceptable. Are you getting all this.?”

             
“I hear you loud and clear and yeah, if anything comes up, I will bring it directly to you. You do understand that I do not have any control over these people. Whatever they have or may have done is not part of my doing.”

             
“Yeah, I know, Sean, but damn it, I gotta’ yell at somebody. “

             
“Okay then, we are good, right?”

             
“Yeah, now get outta’ here, go write some tickets.”

             
Jim finished notifying the other PDs and was looking up the

information on the cemetery. He contacted the cemetery’s office and

spoke to the on-site director. The director checked the records for the

days around Annette’s disappearance. Three burial sites were identified

as possible locations where Averell might have buried Annette. When

reviewed, one was determined to be too close to the highway and probably
not the one, another was three days after her kidnapping and ruled out, but the third was the same day as her abduction and on the next day the ground would still be in need of compacting, seeding and watering. This would most likely be the one.

             
A court order would not be needed if they just dug the ground down to the vault. If they had to go lower, then they would need to get the order. The next day was dedicated to confirming names and cemeteries. Each one of the cemeteries warranted a search, but now the team felt confident that Averell would have used recently excavated grave sites. They would be easier to dig and a little mess after the fact would not seem unusual. So armed with the information he had, Jim established the date that could be used for establishing where each victim had been buried.

             
The Alton Memorial Park south and east of Cleveland, cited as a possible location for Annette, was visited and the specific grave was identified. The FBI had a ground penetrating radar rig brought in and checked the site. A positive result was noted. It could be a body, but the arrangement of the bones was not right. They excavated and found three separate plastic bags, each with human bones that were photographed, inspected and then sent directly to the coroner’s office. The remains contained in the plastic bags had decayed and the remaining fluids and gasses in the bags made an on-site inspection non-feasible. The bags were transported to the morgue where a team of medical examiners would conduct a forensic autopsy of the remains. The second site, Spring Hill Cemetery where Candice Brighten was buried yielded another three bags with the same body parts in each bag. These first two sites were in northeast Ohio as were the two Portage County burials where Allison Kinsey and Rebecca Markum had been hidden. The burial of Kathy Callen was in the western part of Ohio and both Barbara Harkin and Emily Molin were buried in one the Finger Lakes Parks in New York state.

             
The Portage County site was located and the FBI team was searching the area when a pick-up truck drove in. The driver parked and approached the four men as they searched the woods. Three men dressed in street clothes and one local police officer.

             
“You fellas lookin fer somthin’?” asked Phil.

             
“Hey Phil, this is being treated as a possible crime scene, so we should stay right here while these boys do their work,” said the officer.

             
“Sure Joe, whatever you say. What kinda crime?” asked Phil.

             
“Well it was some time ago, coupla years maybe. Some fella says he buried a body out here.”

             
Phil stood up straight and looked stunned, “No kiddin’, a body. Who is the fella, maybe a guy named Davis, Al Davis?”

             
“No. “

             
“Excuse me sir, did you have a name of someone who may have been involved?” asked the FBI agent.

             
“Phil, this is FBI agent Dan Weller, he’s in charge of this expedition. Dan this is Phil Samuels, he has the next farm down the road. Phil does a little huntin’ in these woods, both on and off season,” said Joe with a grin.

             
“So, Phil, who is this fella that you’re talking about?”

             
“Don’t know him very good, he stopped in a few times on his way to Cincinnati to visit family. He didn’t have no gun with him though, so he just looked around and left.”

             
“Anything odd about him?” asked Dan.

             
“Well, yeah, sorta, I mean he was standin’ here one day, few years back, when I come over and we found a hole in the ground, big open hole, so we filled ‘er up so nobody would fall in. Al said he thought it might a been a boar trap. Ain’t no boar aroun’ here in years.”

             
Dan went to his car and returned with a file. He fumbled through the file for a few seconds and pulled out a picture. “Was this guy with your friend?”

             
Phil looked at the picture and smiled, “Nope, that there is Al Davis.”

             
“Phil, that man’s name is Averell Danker. He is suspect in the kidnapping and killing of at least eight little girls and two adults over an

nine year period.”

              “Whoa, I thought he was a little off but not like that,” said Phil.

             
“Do you recall the location of that hole that the two of you filled

in?”

              “Oh, let me see here,” and Phil started to walk toward the tree line, “yep, I reckon it’d be right there.” Phil was pointing into the woods.

             
“Show me,” said Dan.

             
Phil walked them about twenty feet into the woods to a small clearing.

             
“It’s growed over some, but I’m sure it was right here.” He was pointing at a slightly depressed spot. “See, it’s been dug up at some time,” he said pointing out the depression.

             
“How deep was this hole?” asked Dan.

             
“Best guess, ‘bout four foot, maybe five. Not gonna’ catch a boar in that, but you could bust a leg fallin in it,” said Phil.

The radar was used to scan the area. No results.

              “You sure about this location,” asked Dan.

             
“Yep, damn sure.”

             
“Well there’s nothing there,” said Dan.

             
“Well I didn’t see nothin’ in the hole when we filled ‘er up. So no

surprise to me.”

              “There should be two grave sites here,” said Dan.

             
“Oh, okay,” said Phil, “Let’s look around a bit.” With that Phil began to rummage through the woods.

             
Dan was about to ask Phil to please not disrupt the crime scene when Phil shouted out, “Here’s another one.” He continued through the brush and before the team got to the site Phil identified, he called out again, “And another one. You say there’s just two of these,” Phil yelled back at Dan.

             
“Yeah, two.”

             
“Okay, and Phil and he came out of the woods.

             
The team marked each location and was trying to figure how to get the radar unit to each site when Dan said to Joe,” How did he do that?”

             
“Do what?”

             
“He went right to them.”

             
“I don’t know, ask him.”

             
Dan walked over to Phil and said, “how did you know where to look?”

             
“Easy, I looked at the ground, see the way it drops off where there was a hole.”

             
“Yes, but, you went directly to each one.”

             
“Oh, I see, well look at the woods, see anything different about where I looked?”

             
“No.”

             
“Answer is yes, son, you look for a small clearing, about ten to twenty feet into the woods, makes for easy digging and probably nobody will step on it and see the hole.”

             
Both sites were scanned and each site produced a set of three bags. The bags were tagged everything photographed and the bags were taken to the coroner’s office for inspection and identification.

             
Phil was quizzed by the FBI at length and he told them everything he knew. Dan had to go to the Finger Lakes Area next and locate two more graves. He spent a few extra minutes with Phil learning what he could about where Averell would look to dig a hole and bury someone. The remains were identified as Allison Kinsey and Rebecca Markum. Once again DNA testing would be conducted.

             
Dan and his team drove to New York and went to the Thruway exit defined by Averell. They followed the direction he spelled out and came to a clearing in a wooded area a short walk through the woods to a view of one of the Finger Lakes. He stood there admiring the view of the lake and remembered that the first grave was marked with some stones. A brief walk about, found a pile of stones that fit the description and radar found the remains. Dan poked around, remembering what Phil had told him about spotting a hole that had been dug and filled back in. Sure enough, he identified an ideal location from thirty feet away and walked straight to it. There was a depression in the ground and radar found a skeletal pattern. The site was excavated, the remains were taken to the local coroner and through dental records, identified as Barbara Harkin and Emily Molin.

             
Averell’s victims were all accounted for and identified. The final confirmation would be by DNA analysis. That was going to take a few

more weeks.

              In Cleveland Heights, Clare and Dave Shelton were visited by Dan

Weller with the FBI, George Penderson and Jim McClarry from the
Heights police. They were told that Annette had been found. Her remains along with the remains of the other seven girls were being examined as thoroughly as possible and then they would be turned over to the family for a proper burial. They were told also that the lead to finding Annette had been through some mysterious source, involving an attorney in Boston.

             
“Who is the attorney?,” asked Dave Shelton.

             
“His name is James O’Leary,” said Dan and he proceeded to relay the story as he heard it. “An official report will be assembled and you will be given a copy, if you would like.”

             
“Thanks,” said Dave, “How did they —?”

             
“Apparently the guy who did this opened up to someone and word was sent to us. It’s all very mysterious, but we have a tape of the guy confessing to everything. Looks like the confession was not legally obtained and we may have difficulty prosecuting. But that’s another story. First we have to take custody of the guy and then listen to what he says when not coerced, well, that’s not your problem. We will keep you informed as to the progress.”

              “Thanks again,” said Dave, and he and Clare sat down together quietly and said nothing. Jim was going to stay a little longer, but left with the other two. The next week when Jim was in the station, he was asked to join Alex and Sean on the second floor. He walked into Alex’s office and sat down.

             
“What’s up guys?”

             
As Alex was about to speak, the phone rang. Alex answered, “This is Alex Robertson, yes they are here, I’ll put you on speaker “

             
“Gentlemen, my name is Aaron, and I had to do this last call before I retire. You lads did some damn fine police work, and you should feel proud of what you accomplished. We have the proof that we needed to definitely identify the predator, and we are dealing with him now. I know what we are doing is not legal, but it is just and I for one will sleep well tonight. Again, you are to be commended for your efforts. That’s it.” and the phone went silent.

* * *

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

Please, get me outta’ here . . .

Adam’s work was almost done, the team had changed several times watching Averell and waiting for confirmation of the information he had provided. When that came in, Adam returned to the Buffalo building and the team began to take the suite apart. Averell was wakened from a sound sleep, cuffed and a hood placed over his head. As a needle punctured his arm, he passed out and was placed in the rear of a black Suburban with heavily tinted windows. The driver, a large man with broad shoulders and beefy hands, dressed in a dark suit and tie, wearing dark glasses, was a real federal marshal taking a few days off to attend to some “family business”. He was carrying papers that implied he was transporting a prisoner for some legal proceeding in Ohio. Another man, looking very much like the first, also wearing a dark suit and dark glasses, rode in the middle seat and kept watch on their unconscious prisoner. The drive down interstate 90 through Erie, Pennsylvania to an equipment yard outside Mentor, Ohio on Interstate 271took about three hours and was accomplished without a stop. The man drove at the speed limit and never drew the attention of any other drivers or the highway patrol officers.

             
The trip was pleasant, their guest was quiet and the weather was perfect, a bit of a chill in the air but the next week was predicted to be warmer than usual. It would be perfect for outdoor activities with temperatures in the high sixties or low seventies during the day and dropping into the fifties at night.

             
Ben Creighton met the vehicle in the equipment yard and directed it to a remote spot in the parking area. “Package is inside, still out cold,” said the driver. “Where do you want to transfer him to your vehicle?”

             
Ben made sure the yard was all but empty and said, “wait here while I bring my truck over.” He backed his yellow pick-up with state logos on the doors and yellow lights on the roof next to the Suburban. “Let’s dump ‘em in the back.”

             
“Then what?” said the driver.

             
“Then gentlemen, I will gas your ride and you can head back to Buffalo. We will take it from here, and thanks for your help.”

              “No problem, it was a pleasure being able to assist on this one.”

             
“Okay, when you get back, tell Adam that Mr. ‘D’ is secured and

I will call him in the morning. And be sure to say it that way, he will
understand.” Ben then pointed them toward the fuel station and said, “Use the blue nozzle and top ‘er off, then come inside. I just made a fresh pot of coffee and there are bagels in the fridge.” Ben waved to another man standing next to a shed across the parking lot and he approached the truck.

             
“Is this our guest?” said the new man as he zipped up his jacket covering his CHPD uniform.

             
“That he is, cousin. Now if you would keep an eye on ‘im while I get these fellas back on the road, he should stay out till we give the wake up shot.”

             
“Okay, I got him, do I have to be nice?” said Sean with a slight grin.

             
“Not if he wakes up,” and Ben went back into the building.

             
The two men from Buffalo made their pit stop, accepted the fresh coffee and a few bagels and pointed their suburban north. They left as they came, completely unnoticed. Ben went back to the pick-up, looked at Sean and nudged their guest with a shovel. Averell made a slight grunt but remained quiet and relatively motionless. They pulled a tarp over him, placed a few blocks on the edges to keep it in place, got in the truck and slowly drove out onto the highway. Ben drove a few miles south with his yellow lights flashing, then pulled onto the median strip where it was widening around a large wooded area. He turned right midway between the north and south bound lanes and drove another three hundred feet, into the woods paralleling the highway, to a small clearing at the base of a hill. The median was several hundred feet wide at this point, with dense tree and brush covering everything, including the hill that rose about sixty feet above the road surface and extended almost a half mile down the highway. A driving path, just wide enough for his pick-up allowed Ben to back up close to the top of the hill. He stopped the truck, still surrounded by trees and bushes, set the brake and the two men got out and walked to the back of the truck. Sean looked around, noting that they were not visible from the road way below and nodded his approval. Ben dropped the tailgate and the two men dragged their guest from the truck bed. Averell was now semi conscious, but not yet able to walk unassisted. They set him on the ground and walked another thirty feet into the bushes to an opening in the ground. There was a ladder protruding from the opening and Ben said, “It’s ready, I cleaned it out last week, got rid of the sticks and leaves that were collecting at the bottom.”

             
“What about rain, will it hold water in a storm?” asked Sean.

             
“This was a test pit for things the contractor was doing when they built the road. Something about the flyover supports and drainage. Anyway they put a sump with a four inch drain at the bottom and another sidewall drain about a foot higher as an overflow. They run about fifty feet to an outfall on either side of the hill. If you didn’t know what to look for, they aren’t going to be found, it is kinda’ dark down there. We had a good rain last week and when I looked, it wasn’t dry, but there wasn’t any water puddled either. Stays damp down there most of the time, but water drains away quick enough, it won’t be a problem.”

             
“So the drains are clear, not clogged with leaves?”

             
“Oh yeah, forgot to mention, the little critters probably keep the

drains clear, they run in and out all the time.”

              “So our guest will be having visitors from time to time.”

             
Ben laughed, “Reckon he will, mice, squirrels, rats, whatever can crawl through a four inch pipe, just his kind of vermin.”

             
“Okay, ready when you are.” The two men dragged Averell over to the edge of the pit. Sean kept Averell on the ground and Ben went back to the truck. He took a rope from the back of the truck over to the edge of the pit and they tied it around Averell’s chest below his arms. Averell coughed and spit inside his hood trying to say something. Ben checked the knot and tied the other end of the rope to the back of the truck. The two men then lowered Averell into the pit and climbed down the ladder. The pit was at least twenty five feet deep and about ten feet in diameter at the bottom. They untied the rope and started to remove Averell’s clothes, cutting his bindings as they went and put everything in a plastic bag. Sean drew a hypodermic needle from his coat pocket and readied it to inject Averell with his wake up shot.

             
“Is everything done?”

             
“Yeah, finished,” said Ben.

             
Sean injected Averell in his upper arm and tossed the used hypodermic needle in a bag with the rest of Averell’s clothing. They waited a few seconds and Averell started barking again in unintelligible sounds, trying to speak. Ben started up the ladder with the bag and Sean reached for the hood over Averell’s head. He pulled it off as Averell was spitting, coughing and about to vomit. Sean climbed the ladder with the hood in hand leaving Averell lying on the floor of the pit, naked and completely vulnerable. They pulled the ladder up as Averell finally finished sputtering and regained some ability to speak.

             
“Where am I?” he gasped as he sat up.

             
“You’re down there, and we’re up here. And down there you will stay till we let you out,” said Ben as he leaned over the edge.

             
Averell had no idea who these people were, he was confused, disoriented and terrified. He had no idea what was going on, why he was in a dark, damp, muddy place. Why he was naked and cold? He looked up at the opening almost thirty feet above. He could see the sky through the small opening and he felt the clammy cold of the earth around him and he shivered, he did not understand where he was or why and he yelled, “Where am I, what’s going on, get me outta’ here.” He staggered across the pit reaching for the walls, looking for a way out, there was nothing, no stairs, no door, no way to get to the opening above. He felt sick and began to cough until he vomited, what little was in his stomach was now on the floor of the pit. He stumbled around the perimeter scratching at the walls, trying to find something to grasp, something to help him reach the top, nothing. The walls of the pit were hard clay and as he scratched at the walls his finger nails cracked and broke, his fingers tore and bled. He could not pull down the walls, he was trapped, he was buried, but not covered.

             
Averell fell to the floor and hung his head, trying to think, trying to understand what was happening. Was this a nightmare, was this real? He knew that it was real. But who put him here? And why? The police would have put him in jail, he would have rights, he would get a phone call and he would have an attorney. Averell knew this was not the work of the police. Who was Adam? Was he a cop? He remembered the sessions with Adam. Did Adam put him here? He remembered telling Adam about the people he had killed, and where they could be found. Was that a dream? No, that was also real. But, the question remained, why was he here?

             
“Where am I?”

             
There was no reply.

             
“You said I was here until you let me out, let me out now.”

             
No reply.

             
The floor of the pit was hard, moist and slippery. As he moved from side to side of the pit, stepping, slipping, stumbling. Averell could hear the insects and worms squishing and crackling under his feet. They were everywhere, and unavoidable. He called up for the men above, “Get me outta’ here! You can’t do this to me!” There was no reply. The insects started to crawl on his feet and up his legs. He brushed them away as much as he could, but they kept coming, crawling, climbing. Averell was screaming for help, begging to be taken out of the pit. “Please, get me outta’ here!” He started to cry as the vomit once again rose in his throat.

             
Sean and Ben peered down into the pit, “We’re going to leave now, but not to worry, someone will check on you in a week, or a month, whatever, but we won’t leave you there forever.” With that Ben looked at Sean and they both smiled, stood and walked over to the truck, got in and headed down to the hill. At the bottom of the hill they got out of the truck and dragged some cut brush across the path leading to the pit. They stood silently listening for Averell’s cries and hearing nothing, they got back into the truck and drove back to the equipment yard.

Ben decided that he would stay late that day and be sure that several
things were addressed including the work schedules for the up-coming month. The highway crew that mowed the median and cared for that section of highway was under his direction. He had programmed everybody’s activity for the next month in other areas and with the winter snows coming soon, the crews would be very busy plowing and salting the roadway. There would be no opportunity for any activity on Averell’s hill until spring at the earliest.

             
Ben had put in thirty seven years and was ready to retire soon. He would stay on long enough to be sure that Averell’s hill remained undisturbed for a long time and pass the baton on to another cousin who happened to be in line for his job when he did retire.

             
When Ben and Sean left him, Averell was alive and well. How long he would stay that way was not up to them, he was now in the good Lord’s hands.

             
The Clan had addressed a situation. They did so by stepping out of line several times and if ever accused, they could be prosecuted. They understood that and accepted the risk. They also understood that if the entire Clan cooperated, the secrets that they kept would keep them safe from prosecution. So the matter of Averell Danker was not discussed and those who knew something, said nothing, and those who knew nothing, didn’t ask.

             
The objective was to find justice, not to replace the authorities, not to become the police, judge and jury, no, the sole purpose was to provide the justice that the authorities could not or would not deliver.

             
Sean and Ben sat in Ben’s office, shared a cup of coffee and talked about the common cousins between them that neither had seen in too many years. Those who stood up and helped in the search for Annette years earlier. And those that would not be mentioned again who helped in other ways.

             
“Jim McClarry did a lot of detective work on this long before he was promoted to that level, and thanks to him, we had a lot of information about this character. I wish there was a way to let him know that we have taken care of business.” said Sean.