The Barcode Murders Page 2

  “So your husband is against your hiring outside help to find your daughter’s murderer? I am assuming that’s what this is about,” Alan added.

  Janice nodded. “Yes, it is. Travis has since had a change of heart after he found out that the police have done virtually nothing toward solving our case in the last year. I have been calling them at least once a week since last May, asking if there have been any leads or progress of any kind. They have always said the same thing: ‘No, but we’re still working on it.’ Well, Travis did a little snooping around and found out that nobody’s on the case and hasn’t been for months. That did it.”

  Alan wondered who Travis McPherson’s source was for this inside information. “I understand your frustration, Janice, but it’s not unusual for the police to pigeonhole an investigation after a while. They have other cases going on and probably don’t have enough manpower to continue investigating a crime that has evidently gone cold.”

  “I understand that. But that doesn’t give them the right to lie to us! To act like they’re still investigating when it isn’t true. It’s just not right.”

  “I totally agree with you. That being said, I have to caution you that the chances of finding Chloe’s murderer after this much time are slim. Each day that goes by makes the odds of finding anything significant all the less likely. It’s just the way things go. The average memory span for any human is not that great anyway, but after you tack on a year, memories become foggy and even less reliable. Furthermore, people move on. It’s possible that some of those involved in the original investigation aren’t around town anymore. So you see, time isn’t exactly on our side.”

  “I don’t care!” she snapped. “I’m sorry, but I cannot accept that this murderer is going to get away with what he did to our little baby! He robbed us of the most precious thing in our lives and doesn’t deserve to live. I want justice, Alan! And if you don’t think you can help us, then just say so and I’ll find somebody else.”

  “Please, Janice. I’m not saying it’s going to be impossible to apprehend this person. Nor am I saying I’m not interested in taking the case. I’m simply trying to be upfront with you; the odds are not great that I will be successful in finding your daughter’s killer. It will also take considerable time, considering how much time has elapsed. Are you willing to be patient and not expect a quick return on your investment? I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.”

  “Trust me, Alan; I have plenty of patience after wasting all this time getting nowhere with the cops in tracking down this animal. The police have been sitting on their hands while we’ve been led to believe that there is still some hope. Now that we know better, I am willing to start at square one and see what you can come up with. And I don’t care how long it takes or how much it costs. I just want to see that this animal is taken off the streets and forced to pay for what he took from us.”

  “Okay, then. I do want to mention one other thing, though. I have not had much experience investigating cases like this. In fact, I’ve not had any cases that involved tracking down a murderer—much less in a case that has gone cold. My finding those abducted East European girls last fall started out as a favor for a friend who’s an advocate against human trafficking. And that was in fact the first case I’d taken in quite a while. I’d retired from private investigation altogether years ago.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I may not be the best man for this job. There are other PI’s out there with more experience in this sort of work. And as much as I would love to take this case, it wouldn’t be fair not to inform you of my relative lack of experience.”

  “Say no more, Alan. I don’t want anybody else for this job. I sense that you are an honest person who’s passionate about what he does. I gathered that after reading about the sex ring you broke up as a result of rescuing those girls. The fact that you took that case as a favor convinces me that you are the right man for the job. So please, let’s move on to the business details so that you can get started.”

  Alan was impressed with her directness. The last thing he had wanted to do was talk her out of hiring him but he still felt that the Russian sex trafficking case had been somewhat of a fluke. He didn’t really feel worthy of all the praise he’d been given since that case became public knowledge.

  Maybe this case would change that.

  “Thanks for your confidence in me, Janice. I promise you that I will work hard on this case and don’t intend to let you down.”

  He stood up and went over to his desk, removed a copy of his contract and handed it to Janice McPherson. She looked it over, asked a couple of questions about expenses, wrote out a check as a retainer, and then signed on the dotted line. Alan made her a copy and filed away the original.

  After the formalities, Alan warmed up Janice’s coffee and settled back in the chair.

  “Now, please tell me all you can recall about the case.”

  Janice nodded, gathered herself and began.

  “It happened on a Tuesday afternoon last May. Chloe was a second grader at Saint Christopher School, which isn’t very from our home. I received a call from the principal at around 12:15. She said that Chloe never returned to class from recess and wanted to know if I knew anything of her whereabouts. I told her I didn’t and immediately grew faint. ‘Are you saying you don’t know where my child is?’ I asked, already sensing that something awful had happened. Sister Martha suddenly became frantic. She asked me to come to the school at once and said that she was calling the police right away.

  “In a panic, I ran out to my car while trying to call Travis on his cellphone. He was out to lunch and my call went to voicemail. I sped to the school like a maniac, trying every number I could think of to track down Travis. But I had no luck. When I arrived at Saint Christopher, I ran to the principal’s office just as Sister Martha was hanging up the phone.

  “She came over and hugged me. ‘I am so sorry, Mrs. McPherson! The police will be here any minute.’ While we waited for the police to come, Sister Martha explained what had happened. She told me that Chloe’s teacher, Mrs. Kramer, realized that Chloe was missing when she took attendance after lunch recess. She checked the bathroom and then went out to the playground to look but didn’t see her. When she returned, she asked the kids where they had last seen Chloe and one of the girls told her that she had seen her out by the basketball court. When Mrs. Kramer asked if Chloe had been alone, the girl replied that she had. Not long afterwards, the bell had rung and the girl joined the rest of the kids going back inside.”

  “Wasn’t there somebody keeping any eye on the kids out on the playground?” Alan asked.

  “Yes, there were in fact two teachers assigned to playground duty that day. Yet neither one noticed anything suspicious. I couldn’t believe it!”

  “It does sound incredible—that two adults assigned to watch children could miss seeing one of them leaving the grounds.”

  “Exactly what I thought. But that’s what happened, apparently. Anyway, after it became obvious that Chloe was missing, Mrs. Kramer informed Sister Martha, who in turn called me.”

  “Why would Sister Martha think you might know of Chloe’s whereabouts? That doesn’t make much sense,” Alan said.

  “I wondered the same thing and she told me that it’s happened before. That parents had driven by the playground and called their children over to talk to them during recess. The playground is located along a busy street on the west side and it’s not unusual for a parent to be passing by on an errand or whatever and see their kid on the playground. They toot their horn and sometimes the child runs over to the fence to chat. There is a gate in the corner of the playground that’s supposed to be locked but it wasn’t that day for some reason.”

  “What was the explanation for the unlocked gate?”

  “The school’s groundskeeper was interviewed and he insisted that the gate had been locked earlier that morning. The police never came up with an explanation as to how it became unlocked but it certainly raised their suspicions. At any rate, they believe that was how Chloe left the playground. Through that unlocked gate.”

  “How could anybody miss seeing that?”

  “The cops suggested that Chloe may have been abducted and that her abductor was on foot instead of in a car, which wouldn’t have attracted much attention. People walk by the school grounds all the time. And it would only take a second to snatch a kid up by force and cover her mouth to keep her screams from being heard.”

  Alan saw Janice’s eyes cloud up as she spoke. She hung her head and fell silent.

  “We don’t have to do this right now, Janice,” he consoled. “I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

  She slowly raised her head. “I’m all right. I just can’t believe that some monster stole my baby from me. I’m still in shock. Maybe numb is a better word.”

  “Why don’t we take a break, then?” Alan suggested. “I’ll go brew some fresh coffee if you’d like.”

  “I see that you’re a caffeine addict, too,” Janice said with a weak smile. “And if I’m not mistaken, this is Kona from the bean.”

  “You’re right on both counts—I’m impressed.”

  “I used to work at a gourmet coffee house when I was in college and got to know quite a bit about the stuff. Got myself hooked on it there as well. Speaking of which, may I use your bathroom?”

  “It’s right through the hall there on your right,” Alan replied.

  Back in the kitchen, Alan ground more coffee beans and set up the coffee pot. He was already intrigued by this case. He was curious about the facts of the investigation and sensed that there were some loose ends. For one thing, how could everyone including two playground proctors miss seeing a young girl leaving the school grounds in broad daylight? It
didn’t seem plausible. And what about the gate? How had it become unlocked in the span of just a few hours? Had it been an oversight of the groundskeeper or something else?

  And why hadn’t the police department been forthright about the investigation with the McPherson’s instead of leading them on like that? It wasn’t unusual for an investigation to go cold after a certain amount of time—why not just admit to it? Something seemed fishy there, too.

  His wheels were turning as he returned to the living room with a tray of fresh coffee.

  “Smells wonderful,” Janice said.

  “Nothing in the world quite like it. So what have the police had to say about the case? Did they ever have any leads?”

  She shook her head. “No. It was as though Chloe had vanished into thin air. I could tell by the way they were acting that this was going to be a difficult case. They kept trying to reassure us that there was always the possibility she might suddenly show up—that maybe something crazy made her want to run away from the schoolyard. This was ridiculous, of course. We are talking about an eight-year-old here, not some dizzy teenager!

  “Initially there was of course the possibility that Chloe had been kidnapped for ransom. We are fairly well off and Travis and I both thought that might have been the case. It also seemed a little less horrible than another option—her being abducted by some child rapist. We knew that possibility existed but tried not to think about it.

  “As you already know, all of these theories basically became moot within hours of Chloe’s disappearance on the very same day. While the police were busy searching the area around the school, posting Amber alerts, and consulting with kidnapping experts, some old man walking his dog spotted Chloe in a ravine.”

  Alan could still recall the headlines in the paper the following day: Missing Child’s Body Found In Ravine. The entire incident had transpired so quickly that it seemed to be over about as soon as it had begun.

  Except for finding the killer, that is.

  As he looked over at Janice McPherson, Alan saw a mixture of pain, loss and the thirst for revenge in her eyes. Here was a woman who had lost her child and wanted some answers. She wanted to see that the person who had taken her child away was brought to justice.

  “That must have been devastating,” he said.

  “I felt as though my reason for living ended that day. Chloe was our firstborn child and all of a sudden she was gone. We couldn’t even say goodbye. When they called and told us they had found Chloe’s body, Travis was absolutely overcome with grief. He was so overwhelmed that I had a real struggle trying to comfort him in the midst of my own grief. I had never seen him cry like that before, and I actually thought he might have a heart attack or a stroke he had wept so hard. It was horrifying.”

  “They must have been very close, indeed.”

  “Oh yes. There were times when I almost felt jealous of Chloe; Travis doted on her so much. Their love for each other was mutual and the father/daughter bond was really strong. Chloe saw the earth and sky in her daddy.”

  “What can you tell me about the crime scene in the ravine?”

  “Like the scene at the school, the murderer apparently left nothing for them to work with. There was no DNA collected at the scene or from Chloe’s body. They later determined that she had not been sexually assaulted and that her death had been due to strangulation.”

  No wonder this case hasn’t been solved, Alan thought. The killer had covered his tracks too well. And without any DNA evidence or an eyewitness, it would be next to impossible to convict anybody of this crime.

  If he was ever caught.

  Try as he may, Alan was unable to shake off the fact that the odds of his solving this case were about the same as winning the Lotto jackpot.

  He tried to conceal his doubts. “Surely there was some kind of progress made in the case, wasn’t there?”

  “Not really. The lead detective told us that he had searched the local sex offender registry and conducted several interviews but nothing ever panned out. There were quite a few phone tips called in but nothing ever came of them. He was genuinely frustrated, I will say that.”

  “What was the detective’s name?”

  “Draker.”

  Alan knew Mike Draker. He made a mental note to give him a call.

  “You said that Chloe was your first child. Have you any other children?”

  “Yes, Benjamin. He just turned five last month.”

  “I’d like to talk to your husband. Could you give me a number where I can reach him?”

  “Sure. I’ll give you one of his business cards.”

  Janice took a card from her purse and handed it to Alan. “His cell number is on there as well.”

  “Thank you. Can you think of anything else you can tell me about this case, Janice?”

  “Just that I am available anytime, twenty-four/seven, if you come up with anything or have any questions. I really hope you can find this monster, Alan. Our family has not been the same since losing Chloe and I’m afraid that Travis may be heading for a mental breakdown. He will never admit it but the healing process hasn’t yet begun for him and I’m afraid never will until this guy is found and put away.”

  “I will do my level best to find him. That I can promise.”

  “I know you will. I guess I should go now. Thanks for taking the case. It means a lot to me.”

  “My pleasure,” Alan replied.

  After seeing her off, Alan warmed up his coffee and returned to the office. He had a couple of things to do before his three o’clock appointment with Greg Weller.

  Saint Christopher School was located in an upscale Columbus suburb that Alan was not very familiar with. He used the Pilot’s GPS to locate the place and noticed the opulence of the homes in the area. He made a pass by the McPherson house and then followed the same route that Janice would most likely have taken to get to the school.

  The school was much larger than he had imagined. Located adjacent to it was the absolutely beautiful neo-gothic Saint Christopher Church. He swung around the block, pulled over close to the school’s playground and went around to let Pan out of the passenger side. There was an average flow of traffic along the street and most of the playground could be seen from his vantage point.

  He continued walking along the playground’s perimeter toward the basketball court and stopped when he spotted the gate that Chloe had presumably made her exit through. There was a thick rusted chain wrapped around the gate that was padlocked. Although it had been nearly a year since Chloe had been abducted, his guess was that this was the same lock that had been used back then, judging by its appearance.

  Alan stood and peered through the six-foot high chain link fence toward the jungle gym, slides and swing sets located near the school building. No doubt this was where most of the kids congregated during recess unless they opted to shoot some hoops. The remainder of the playground was little more than a large field with a lone soccer goal at the far end.

  He took a couple of quick shots of the area with his camera before rounding the corner and continuing along the perimeter. There was leafless vegetation growing along the fence line, much of it good-sized shrubs and a few trees. In the spring, this portion of the playground would most likely be obscured from the street.

  After he reached the school’s main entrance, he doubled back and returned to his SUV. His response to the crime scene was one of bafflement. He wondered how anybody could possibly have missed seeing Chloe McPherson being seized from the playground. Although the distance from the basketball court to the main playground area was forty yards or so, there was nothing there to obstruct anyone’s view of the street from that perspective.

  Yet Chloe had been taken without a single eyewitness.

  He needed to pay a visit to Sister Martha and all of the teachers involved in the incident. But first he wanted to see what he could find out from homicide detective Mike Draker.

  He opened the door for Pan, got out his phone and located the Columbus Police Department in his contacts. After making the call, he asked for Mike Draker and got his voicemail. He left his name and number and asked the detective to give him a call as soon as possible.