Finding Amy (19 page)

The standoff continues as Danny communicates with Troy. I tell Tommy I'm in for a ten on Gorman, just to keep it interesting. Tommy says Gorman won't do it, because he's a coward. I agree, but I'm still in for ten.

“By the way, Tom, did you get that Reaper sticker off the crime scene van?” At a recent death scene, I noticed the sticker, sickle and all and wearing a Sherlock Holmes hat, on the van.

“Yeah, Joe, we got it off.”

From the tone of Tom's voice, I knew I had to check. This shit was fine for our survival but I didn't need some family member viewing that thing through tears. Guess who would be dealing with it? Lieutenant Loughlin, that's who. And Chief Chitwood.

“Lemme know about that freak Gorman, Tommy. Lemme know.”

I went back to work. Four and a half hours later, the standoff ended. Gorman was in custody and alive. I was out ten bucks and it looked like we were going to have a trial.

Troy police safely evacuated the other residents of the house, friends of Gorman's family, two adults and a three-year-old child. The Troy police emergency response team and officers from the county sheriff's office closed State Highway 29. After a five-and-a-half-hour standoff during which, at one point, Gorman was holding two loaded guns pointed at his head and threatening to kill himself, negotiators from the Troy Police Department managed to end the incident peacefully. Gorman surrendered his first .25 caliber semiautomatic pistol for a soda and the second for a cigarette, and the Troy police took him into custody. Detective Young was notified and began extradition proceedings.

T
he standoff had ended and Gorman was in an Alabama jail, but the excitement wasn't over for the evening. The detectives and their supervisors had been engaged in an ongoing debate about whether Danny and Scott should go to Troy to interview witnesses or whether they should rely on the very able support they were getting from Chief Everage and Detective Sergeant Calista Everage (the chief's sister). “
ALABAMA
” had been up on the dryboard in the conference room along with the long list of potential witnesses to be interviewed, waiting to rise higher in the priority list or for the detectives to have time to deal with it.

Now, with Gorman in custody and Littlefield also in jail for shoplifting, and with many other friends and relatives in whom Gorman might have confided, Alabama had risen to the top of the list. Everyone agreed it was important to the case for the detectives to have face-to-face contact with the Alabama witnesses while the information was still fresh.

On that Wednesday evening, the decision was finally made that Young and Harakles should go to Alabama to interview Gorman before Probation and Parole arrived to bring him back to Maine, as well as to speak with other local witnesses. There was only one problem: with not much more than a twenty-four-hour window to conduct interviews before Gorman was returned to Maine, Scott Harakles stunned them all by declaring: “I don't fly.”

It was incongruous. Harakles was a Maine state trooper. True, he appeared younger than his thirty-two years, but he looked like everyone's image of a big, tough cop, built like a football player with a firm jaw, broad shoulders, and a crew cut. He had all the command presence necessary to get the world to line up and obey. But he was a family man in a major way. He had two young kids. It was two months since 9/11. He had recently had a bad time in an MSP plane, and he didn't want to get on another.

On the surface, it wasn't a big deal. Harakles wasn't the only detective assigned to MSP Criminal Investigation Division 1. His supervisors suggested that the simplest solution was for another detective to fly to Alabama with Young. Young wasn't happy with that idea. He and Harakles had become extremely close over the weeks they'd worked together. Many of their days had been twelve to sixteen hours long. Despite the age and experience gaps, they had become partners, and a partner isn't fungible.

It wasn't just their personal relationship. Danny and Scott lived and breathed the case. They felt, and Lieutenant Loughlin agreed, that their joint view of the case and thorough knowledge of witness statements, the timeline, and autopsy results were important elements of the investigation and would be invaluable in speaking with witnesses in Alabama.

Lieutenant Loughlin also worried that splitting them up so far into the case might make them lose momentum— that not only would they lose Harakles's valuable body of knowledge, insight, and excellent interviewing skills but that, with a major personnel change so late in the game, Danny Young might also lose his intensity and focus. Sure, Young was a professional police officer, a highly regarded detective in a paramilitary organization. He was trained to take orders and obey the command staff. He was also human. He had been working relentlessly on the case from the first night of Estabrook's phone call, and that level of commitment and dedication arose in part from the fact that it was “his” case. Now Harakles had become “his partner,” and it was “their” case. The same human qualities that fueled dedication and energy also fueled possessiveness. They had to be acknowledged and respected.

There was something else at play as well. Included in the qualities that made the pair such good detectives were stubbornness and tenacity. Harakles would be the first to admit that he was stubborn, especially when people were trying push their agenda on him. Now that Amy's body had been found, it seemed that everyone had an opinion or wanted a piece of the case; and now that it was a confirmed MSP case, people up the food chain were taking an interest. Chief Chitwood's habit of playing to the media, so different from the more cautious policy of the MSP and the attorney general's office of revealing little information, had led to discussions about pulling the case away from Young and the Portland police.

Those discussions made the partners feel threatened and distracted from all the real work that needed to be done. By early Wednesday no decision had been made, but the two detectives joined the debate that evening with the feeling that their backs were against the wall. Higher-ups were pushing them around generally and, in particular, pushing them to go to Alabama without giving them a chance to discuss it when they knew the case best. They didn't feel the same sense of urgency others did, but after ten minutes' discussion, they decided they should go.

“Matt, are you out of your friggin' mind? No. Absolutely no, we are not splitting these guys up. Not now!” The hair bristles on my neck. I can literally
feel
the problem.

The standoff is over, and Gorman is in custody. We've got work to do in Troy, and now Matt's telling me Detective Harakles will not get on a plane. He had a bad experience recently in an MSP fly and is adamant about not going. He and Danny want to go, but they want to drive.

Matt says, “My bosses are saying Harakles either gets on a plane or they are assigning someone else. Plus they are crazy to drive!”

I agree. “Well, shit, Matt, I think it's crazy to drive, too.” It's 2022. We've all just been through this tense standoff. We're still at work and all we want to do is go home. But we've got this difficult situation.

“What time is the flight, Matt?”

“0830,” he says. “They've gotta move if they're gonna beat the probation guys who will be down the next day.”

“Matt, what is the freaking rush? Gorman's not going anywhere.”

“Well, they have an obligation,” Matt says, “and we need to interview down there before he's on uncomfortable ground. Probation is going to pick him up soon.” He goes over reasoning and strategy, and I agree. Matt is a prudent man.

However, I'm sick of everyone poking their noses into our world after all the work our guys did on this. We've been at this almost eight weeks and I'm thinking, What? Command staff and outside forces are going to start influencing this now? There are so many players watching or wanting a piece of this. Our own and the MSP brass and administration, other cops, the public, the news. Inside I'm shouting no! If it were up to me, I'd just send 'em by car if that's what they want.

But the situation has changed. Technically, it's now an MSP case and new people have access. It's no longer just our small working group. I'm doing a precarious and difficult balancing act, trying to keep everyone together. It means a lot of stroking egos. A lot of follow-up calls. A lot of diplomacy. Tonight my diplomacy's wearing kind of thin.

“Can't we talk Scott into getting on this fly?” I ask.

Matt is confused now, trying to calm me down for once, his face returning to its normal color. “No,” he says, “he won't go.”

I'm pacing now, nearly as jerky as Tommy. Nothing is easy with this thing. We've had a week of wild breaks and now this. “Ahh, shit, Matt. Go get those guys, please.”

Matt leaves. I start on my messages to occupy me while I wait, knowing it will only aggravate me. “Yes, so, Lieutenant Loughlin, I have a problem. You people made an illegal entry into a dwelling … your detective had no probable cause to …” Beeep. A somber, low voice. “Lieutenant Loughlin, my brother committed suicide last Wednesday and I need his personal effects, can you …” I get through four messages before Scott and Dan are shadowing the doorway as the message voice continues, “and I can't believe that the medical examiner never, never called my brother about …”

I push the “off” button, frustrated. There's so much to do and these are people's lives. I must attend to them.

“Scott, stop biting your nails!” Scott's athletic figure leans in the doorway. It doesn't match his behavior. I've been biting my nails as well. Finding Amy has brought intense focus back on us. The press is full of the question, Why no arrest? Of course everyone is tense. Right now, we have to put that out of our minds and deal with the business before us.

Danny starts in. “Lieutenant, we can do this, I know it. If we leave at 0430, we can make it. If Scott doesn't go, I'm not going.”

Oh, man! Now it's both of them digging their heels in. Dan is treading carefully, though. He is very respectful of the chain of command. Does Danny want to drive, too? Is that what I'm getting? One thing I'm sure I'm getting. These guys are crazy. It's over a thousand miles to Alabama.

Tension is high. I'm impatient. I want to argue but I stifle myself. Trying to be like Deputy Chief Tim Burton, to listen, absorb, and not judge. Yet.

“Lieutenant,” Scott chimes in, “I am not being disrespectful, but I cannot get on that plane, and I'm with Danny. If you guys break us up this will go downhill … just the learning curve alone …”

It continues and I listen to both of them go on. “Lieutenant, I know we can do it. We want to do it. We can talk the case all the way down. It will be a good thing.”

Finally, I'm out of patience. “Scott, damn it, stop biting! Let me talk to Scott alone.” Everyone leaves. “Scott, you sure you can't fly? It doesn't make sense to me, based on what I know about you.”

“Lieutenant, I'm not flying. I have two kids, and ever since my last MSP fly and 9/11, I just can't, sir. I just can't.”
¹

“Okay, Scott.” Matt Stewart returns to my office and gives me this bewildered look. “They're staying together,” I tell him. “Give me Brian's number again.” Lieutenant Brian McDonough is my counterpart in the MSP food chain. A good man. A gentle, graying Irishman with a good sense of humor.

I dial. “Brian? Yeah? It's Joe Loughlin. What the fuck! We've got a situation.”

Matt throws his arms up in disbelief at what I just said and starts turning red again. I'm talking to his boss. But I know Brian and believe we can work together on this.

McDonough and I start in. “Look, Brian. I know it doesn't make sense, but we absolutely cannot separate these two.” I'm convinced that's the heart of the matter— the critical thing is keeping Danny and Scott together. I'm willing to fight for them to go. “Let 'em go,” I tell him. It gets a bit heated and I tread water for a few because now this is technically an MSP case.

“My bosses don't care at this point and will send someone else,” he says.

“Shit, Brian,” I tell him, “your bosses didn't know squat 'til now. They haven't been doing this since 21 October either, damn it.” I am frazzled and mad. “Gimme Chick's number [Captain Chick Love is next up the MSP food chain]. I'll call him next. Right now. The clock's running. If these guys are going, they've got prep to do.”

I give it a beat, then go on, trying to convince him. “Brian, if they stay together, they can and will do it. Pull 'em apart and Danny will shut down and then what? I won't even tell Tommy at this point. Brian, I appeal to your investigative sense. You know what I'm talking about.”

“Joe, Joe, I agree,” he says. “Hang on. Let me make some calls. Give me thirty and I'll call you back.”

Matt's got that stare again. “What?” I ask him. “Go tell those guys to plan, but hang on, Matt.”

Forty minutes later my pager goes off. I call Brian. “Joe,” he says, “they go.”

I breathe a heavy sigh of relief even as my headache sings. “Thank you, Brian. I'll keep you up on this. Tell you what. I'll keep Chitwood away from the news.” We laugh and hang up.

Dan and Scott block my doorway, looking like hopeful kids, Matt's head behind them. “Get your shit and go, guys. I still think you're crazy, but go. And don't screw me up on this.”

I'm about to punch my message button again when Danny says, “We won't let you down, Lieutenant. We won't let Amy down.”

On Thursday morning, embarking on a crazy journey that typified Young's unstoppable, tanklike nature and Harakles's tireless enthusiasm, the two primary detectives climbed into Harakles's unmarked cruiser and left for Alabama. Everyone else might have thought it was crazy, but they really
preferred
to drive, welcoming the opportunity to thoroughly discuss the case and plan their approach to Gorman. As the miles flew past, however, Scott Harakles was feeling very lonely. It felt strange and wrong to be heading away from his family so close to Christmas.

He learned something interesting about his partner on the trip. Danny Young might be a fine detective, but he had a lousy sense of direction. Twice on the way down, while Harakles was dozing, Danny got lost.

As they got closer to Alabama, Harakles began to get excited. Unlike Young, he had never met Gorman. He'd only seen Gorman on video, observing Gorman's arrogance and disrespect. This would be Gorman's first custodial interrogation, as opposed to the voluntary interviews at the Portland Police Department. What they, and the attorney general's office, wanted was to lock Gorman into his initial story about dropping Amy off. Both detectives knew that a lot was hanging in the balance. They needed to manipulate Gorman into repeating the story and not let him see that it would be to his advantage to change it.

Like the day of the search for Amy's body with a snowstorm coming, this turned out to be another race against the clock. They wanted to get to Troy in time to interview Gorman before the Probation and Parole officers returned him to Maine. When they left, they thought they'd have a day with Gorman. As it happened, they arrived at 11:00 a.m. on Friday to find that the probation officers were scheduled to leave Troy an hour later.

Their primary reason for going to Alabama right away was their interest in interviewing Gorman one more time while he was still on home ground, but shaken from his encounter with police. Once he was back in a Maine jail, even though the only crime he was accused of was probation violation, they knew he would lawyer up, and no one would be able to talk with him about Amy St. Laurent.