Jack hurried in to see Connie. “The wheels fell off my plan,” he said, with astonishment. “Did you see her?”
“I thought she was going to punch you,” said Laura, looking shocked.
“Bribery … corruption?” exclaimed Connie. “I personally looked at the file involving her dad. Remember? I told you that someone in our office pulled it out five years ago and enhanced a photo of the suspect and tried to run it through face recognition, but wasn’t successful. Too much of a profile shot rather than face-on.”
“She thinks a politician did it and we are protecting the person,” said Jack.
“Who would tell her such a thing?” asked Laura.
“She didn’t say, but people say stupid things and make flippant comments,” replied Jack. “Maybe by a friend or neighbour who had been prejudiced by some unrelated news article or something, or perhaps came from another country where such things are common. The sad thing is, Mia believed it as gospel.”
“Her mother came from China,” noted Connie. “Corruption there is rampant.”
“She is sure angry with you,” noted Laura, shaking her head in sympathy toward Jack. “So much for getting her to open up to you now.”
“After a death in the family, there is a desire to funnel anger toward someone or some organization,” noted Jack, then added, “such as the justice system.”
Connie and Laura did not respond. They knew he had personal experience in that regard.
Jack looked at Connie and asked, “How fast can you retrieve that file? I want to show her that we have been doing everything we can to find out who killed her father.”
“Not long at all,” replied Connie. “I’ve still got it in my office. I hadn’t got around to returning it yet.”
“Check the monitor,” said Laura. “You better hurry. She’s pacing the room and looks really angry … now she’s looking at the camera … giving us the finger.”
Jack left Laura to monitor Mia and went down the hall with Connie to retrieve the file.
“You said the wheels fell off your plan?” asked Connie as she handed Jack the file box.
“After her response, I’m not sure if I should hint that I’m a dirty cop,” replied Jack. “She’s liable to try and rip my face off.”
“So how will you play it?”
“At this point I don’t know. I’ll be flying by the seat of my pants.”
Jack entered the interview room holding another file box with both hands. Mia stood squarely in front of him with her hands on her hips, before pointing a finger at his chest and saying, “I’m done. Either return me to my car or let me call a lawyer immediately!”
“I’ll drive you back to your car if you like,” said Jack, “but this box I’m holding contains all the information we have surrounding your father’s death. Corporal Crane pulled it out to review when she first started working on you. Would you like to see it?”
Mia was taken back and her mouth briefly flopped open. She saw the name Parker scrawled on the side of the box in a black felt pen, along with a file number. She felt excitement at the prospect, then hesitated and said, “Sure, I want to see it. Although more importantly, I would like to see whatever part you took out of it that you don’t want me to see.”
“Except for exhibits, which are locked in a vault, everything else is right here,” replied Jack.
Yeah, like I believe that …
“Even the actual exhibits will be described in the documentation on file,” continued Jack. “It will take a while. Sit and we’ll start reading reports from the beginning.”
Mia, with Jack sitting beside her, started reading the reports, beginning at the initial emergency call to when the police arrived at the scene. Jack took a manila envelope from the box, peeked inside it, then quietly placed it back in the box before retrieving the reports that followed.
“What’s that?” demanded Mia, suspiciously. “What aren’t you showing me?”
“Photos of the scene,” replied Jack, “similar to those ones,” he added, gesturing to the photos still on the table of Betty Donahue’s murder. “You are welcome to look at them, but they are extremely grisly. If you decide you want to see them, I would prefer you wait until you have read all the reports.”
“Why?” she snapped. “Show them to me.”
“Try and cool it with the attitude, will you? You’ve got a real chip on your shoulder.”
Mia glared in response.
“The reason I would prefer you to wait,” continued Jack, “is because I want your brain to be as focused and sharp as possible while you are reading the reports. Seeing the photos may cause your brain to lose its clarity and logic while analyzing the investigative steps that were taken.”
Mia felt surprise. Surprise that what Jack said made sense … and was to her advantage. “Oh … I see,” she replied. “Then I’ll wait.” She cast a glance at Jack. Is he being honest? Doesn’t he realize that there was a cover-up?
Two hours ticked past as Mia read countless reports from numerous people who were interviewed, including pedestrians, other drivers, and shoppers in nearby stores. Most of the actual witness statements were similar. It was a bleak winter rainy day in Richmond and her father was walking across the street after work when he was killed.
A man driving a blue car sped up the left turn lane before veering in front of the cars stopped at the red light and struck her father in the crosswalk, sending him flying head-first into the car’s windshield and up and over the back of the car. The car continued on without stopping, but was found twenty minutes later. It had been reported stolen.
“Yeah, I’m sure it was reported stolen,” said Mia, “right after he killed my dad. Who owned it?”
“I don’t blame you for thinking that,” replied Jack. “It happens all too often, but I am positive that would have been looked into. Let’s keep reading.”
The next page reported that the car had been reported stolen shortly before the hit and run. The statement from the woman who owned the car said she left it running outside a nearby daycare as she went in to get her young son. It was a habit she admitted to doing in wintertime, but said she would never do again.
Mia clenched her jaw as her frustration grew. Her excitement returned when a report noted a profile of the man driving the car had been obtained from a security camera at a nearby gas station. She looked anxiously at Jack, who nodded and pulled out another manila envelope.
They both looked at the pictures. One photo was taken farther back, showing a blue car in amongst city traffic. Other photos showed close-ups of the blue car and a profile of a man could be seen, but not enough to identify him.
“It’s the same car,” said Jack, quietly.
Mia looked at the picture closer and saw the big spider-webbed break in the front windshield and felt sickened when she imagined the impact her dad’s head would have made.
“I was told there is more about the pictures later,” said Jack, “but let’s keep reading to see what was done to solve this.”
Mia continued to read. The stolen car was located a short time later in an alley, but Forensics were unable to come up with any evidence. Potential delivery vans who frequented the alley were contacted with negative results. Numerous people were interviewed from the area of where the car was stolen, but it was raining and nobody took the time to notice anything suspicious or anyone loitering in the area. Eventually the file went dormant.
“What does S-U-I mean at the bottom of the report?” asked Mia.
“It means it is still under investigation. The file was never closed,” said Jack. “There is one more bit of information left to look at,” he said, reaching into the box again. “It was reviewed five years ago. An investigator felt with new technology that the photo could be enhanced some more … but don’t get your hopes up. I was told that the enhanced photo was run through the driver’s licence database for facial recognition without result.
“Can I see the enhanced photo?” asked Mia.
Jack nodded and hauled several photos out of an envelope and briefly looked at them. Mia could see that something in the photos caught Jack’s attention and he glanced at her, before examining the photos further.
“They are of the same picture taken twenty-five years ago, but of different ranges of close-up,” he said. “They appear to be of a man of about forty years old. Short black hair and a magnified image notes that he had three small moles on his lower left jaw.”
Mia nodded. “Can I see?”
Jack handed her the photographs and she gasped. This cannot be! She looked at Jack for clarification. “He’s Chinese!”