Persuasion

Kensey McQueen’s body was found floating in a marsh between Eagle River and Chugiak on October 2, 1977 just before the first freeze of the season.  Working as a patrol officer for the Anchorage Police Department, I heard about the fate of this poor eighteen year-old who had just graduated from Chugiak High School, Class of 1977.  There were those who saw this cold case as an accident along the road connecting the two communities.  Back then things were pretty desolate.  Eagle River had one stop sign and Chugiak didn’t have any.  

One afternoon, I found the photograph of Kensey taken where a hiker had found her half eaten corpse floating in a marsh near the Chugach Mountains. 

“It’s Kensey McQueen.” Al Bronson said as he stood at the file cabinet near my desk. “They found her down near the Eagle River Marsh about twelve years ago.”

“Unsolved?” I shrugged.

“Yup.” 

“Cold case, then?” I put my hand to my forehead.

“As cold as it gets, even for this place.” Al smirked. 

“What if I do a preliminary investigation?” I sighed.

“You’d be wasting your time.” He shook his head.

“I feel bad for her.” 

“Oh man, if you feel bad everytime you see a victim’s picture, you are going to have some long weeks here.” Al chuckled. “The Chief doesn’t want to waste time on cold cases like hers.” 

“What if something new was found?” I inquired.  

“It’s been twelve years.” Al sat at his desk and put his hand to his chin as he opened a current file. “You really think you can find something new?”

“What if I did?” I tossed the glossy photograph of Kensey on my “In File” basket. 

“Well, we got plenty to do without poking around the graveyard.” He hissed. The graveyard was what a lot of us called the cold case files. 

“I just hate that we will never know what really happened to her.” I mumbled to myself.

“Honey, I’m glad you’re home.” My wife Glenda kissed me on the cheek. “How was your first day?”

“It was good.” I hesitated.

“What’s wrong, Chuck?” She knew me well after ten years of marriage.

“Well, when I was with the State Troopers in Oregon, we would fill out reports and do our best to try to find the hard facts…” My voice faded.

“We came here with hopes you could get away from the pressures of your last job.” She put her arms around my neck.

“I thought this place would be perfect for me.” I forced a smile. 

“Why isn’t it?” She reflected my smile.

“I saw the photograph of a young woman who they found floating in a marsh twelve years ago.” I bowed my head, “And no one seems too concerned about what really happened.”

“We went through this before, honey.” She held him, “Remember that wreck on Highway 5 a year ago?” 

“I still can’t get that nightmare out of my head.”  I closed my eyes and saw the mangled bodies and blood dripping onto the pavement.  I was told by my supervisor not to waste my time on the case.  One of the guys told me that there was some political interest in the case.  

Forget about it.  That’s what I was told, but I could not walk away.  Then a couple of months ago, I was given a written reprimand.  Rather than accept it, I put in my resignation and drove up the Al-Can where a former partner of mine, Al Bronson, told me there was an empty desk waiting for me.  

“Kensey McQueen was trouble from the moment she got her diploma.” Alma Freemont told me when I saw her name on the original police report.  I found her working the swing shift at the Eagle River 7-11.  Rounding sixty, her customer service skills had taken a toll over the decades. “She was playing a dangerous game.”

“How so?” I asked as I paid for my beer. 

“She was boy-crazy.” She answered.

“Is that a crime?” I shrugged as I picked up my twelve pack. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, this is a small town with long memories.” She said leaving me with a suspicious expression. Her last words about long memories rattled around inside my skull on my trip to the office.  

“Detective Owens, a lot of people around here have deep roots and would not have you asking a bunch of questions about a twelve year old case.” Chief Richert explained as he cast glances at Officer Drago, his second in command. 

“It’s my job to make sure cases, capital cases are investigated.” I nodded my head to one side as Drago sneered at me like a hungry lynx. 

“She was an adventurous girl.  Curious is the word as I recall.” The Chief poured himself a cup of coffee that smelled like diesel fuel.  Drago nodded an affirmation at the word “curious.” 

“I’m just a curious guy.” I shrugged.

“Sometimes that can get you in a tight situation.” Richert raised one of his thick bushy eyebrows.  Drago continued to stare a hole in my forehead with his suspicious glare. “Mrs. Fremont called me this morning about you asking questions that she wasn’t going to answer.” 

“One of my top skills in my career has always been persuasion.  When I feel resistance from whatever direction, it is my first hint that I’m on the right track.  You hired me to ask questions when I needed to.” He tilted my head in the other direction.

“Yeah for things that are happening today.” He sipped his hot black coffee, “Not something that is long dead and buried.” 

“You got yourself in a hot spot, Chuck.” Al commented when I walked into the office.

“Why does everyone clam up about this case from twelve years ago?” 

“Alma is the sister of the chief’s wife.” He opened the file cabinet.

“So that’s it?” I shook my head as I sat down at my desk.

“Get used to it. Anchorage is a pretty big place, but it’s still a provincial town and folks know folks.” He pulled a file from the top drawer, “Now Chuck, we got this situation down on Fourth Avenue that needs our attention.” 

We drove a few blocks to Keefer’s Tavern where a stocky native fellow was wiping down the bar with a cloth. 

“Herk.” Al waved as we strode in.

“Al.  Who’s the new flatfoot?” He smiled.

“He’s new to us, but he’s been around.” Al sat on one of the stools.

“Chuck Owens.” I held out my hand.  Herk glanced at it for a moment.

“Hercules.” He shook my hand. 

“Herk is from up in one of those villages on the Yukon.  Used to be a fisherman out of Bethel.” Al took the beer that Herk had poured.

“So where are you from, Chuck?” Herk asked as he put a beer in front of me. 

“Oregon.  Up around Portland.” I answered looking at the full mug of beer.

“Got some kin down in those parts.” He wiped his hands on his dirty apron.  “So Chuck, whadda think of Alaska so far?” 

“Seems alright.” I shrugged.

“I’ll check back with you after winter.” He laughed. 

Persuasion was what I was known for and I must admit that could get me in hot water, but I drove down to the marsh where Kensey’s body was found.  Al did his duty by telling me not to, but I had to see with my own eyes what the area was like.  

Eagle River flows through its namesake where a large grocery store and a few other local businesses were scattered about.  The tourist center was just around the river bend and the road was nothing but gravel.  Al warned me that unless the road had traffic, folks didn’t feel it necessary wasting money to put down a black top. 

Standing on the bank, Eagle River was just a trickle from here, but further down as the terrain sloped down to the inlet near Anchorage the river would turn into a raging torrent.

According to the report I had read, Kensey’s body was floating a few feet from shore.  The river was barely two feet deep, but the muck and mud acted like quicksand.  I tossed a rock into the water and watched it get swallowed up in the mud.  Using my own camera, I took a couple of photographs of the area.

“God bless ya sweetheart.” I whispered as I walked back to my car.

“Never, never go down there, Chuck.  Bears are getting ready for hibernation and they are cranky and hungry.” Al shook his head, “Besides there are plenty of moose down there who’d like nothing better than to stomp you into the mud.” 

“She was murdered.” I put my hands on his desk and leaned over menacingly.  

“How the hell do you know?” He squinted up at me.

“I can feel it.” 

“Takes a heck of a lot more to convince people than a feeling.” 

“Report says she was nearly naked.” I jerked my head away.

“River could have undressed her.” Al scowled.

“River did not want to rape her.” I shrugged.

“You are gonna getcha self in a world…” He closed his eyes.

“What happened?  You’re not telling me something.” I looked out the window.

“I was one of the investigating officers.  I was just a rookie back then.” He turned his head away from me.

“C’mon Al, we were cadets together.  We swore to always tell the truth.  It’s our integrity as sworn officers.” I glared at him as he did his best to avoid eye contact.

“I was the one who found her body.” He said in a hushed whisper.

I was silent as I let that roll around inside my mind. 

“Russell Pierce was my senior partner.” He leaned back in his chair as the memory roared through him.  

Russell Pierce was not hard to find even though he had retired a couple of years ago.  He was a manager of a small dry cleaning business. 

“What can I do for you?” He asked when I entered his shop in Eagle River.

“I am here to see Russell Pierce.” I answered.

“You’re in luck, I am him.” He smiled.

“I’m Detective Owens.” I showed him my badge.

“What do you want, detective?” His smile disappeared. 

“Want some information about Kensey McQueen.” I leaned on the counter.

“That was a long time ago.  We kept the case open hoping we’d be able to find out what happened, but we were wrong.” He shook his head.

“What do you think happened to her?” 

“Never really found out.” He continued to shake his head, “Could have been an accident.  Could have been the wildlife.” 

“The river is barely a trickle there.” 

“You can drown in six inches of water.” He looked away.

“Do you think that’s what happened?” It was my turn to shake my head.

“I’ve been retired for almost two years, why are you throwing this up into my face now?” He became tense, “You’re that new guy up from the forty eight, aren’t you?” 

“I work with Al.” 

“Al.” He rolled his eyes, “He was a work.  Is he still there?”

“We went to the academy together.” 

“Oh I see, a couple of bookworms trying to look like good detectives.” 

At times it was hard for me to get along with cops like Russell, because no matter what the academy graduates did, it just wasn’t good enough.  

As I looked around his shop, I began to see the tell-tale signs of a flatfoot in the picture frames of smiling old cronies that paid him protection money.  Back in Portland, I knew a couple of the cops on the take, but I was quick to learn that you weren’t supposed to say anything about it. 

So, I didn’t. 

“Kensey’s mother died a year after they buried her daughter.” Russell said as he placed a ticket on one of the garments wrapped in plastic. “Most of the people who would care about Kensey are dead anyhow. So, do yourself a favor, detective, let the dead stay buried.” 

“And let the guilty go free.” I shook my head, “Doesn’t sound like the oath I took at all.” 

Persuasion can come when you least expect it. Chief Richert continued to pressure me or persuade me as he called it, to give up on the cold case and do real police work.  Al was begging me to let it go, but something tugged at my gut or maybe it was this tiny voice of an angel that pushed me to find out what really happened on that October 2 afternoon.  

I got a call to meet someone at Keefer’s Tavern.  When I arrived, the bar was empty except for Herk.

“I was supposed to meet someone here.” I told him as I sat on a stool.

“It was me.” He said in a low voice.

“You?”

“Yeah, she was my niece.” He looked around to make sure we were alone. 

“Niece?” 

“Yeah, my sister was her mother.” He half-shrugged.

“I had no idea.” 

“Yeah and they wanted to keep it that way.” 

“Why did you call me?” 

“Because I’ve been carrying around the truth for sometime.” He confessed. “My sister killed herself or that’s what the newspapers said.  But I know the truth and it’s not what was reported.” 

“I’m listening.” I leaned on the bar.

“I didn’t like you when you came into the bar the other day.” He forced a smile. “But the more I thought about things and there was something that persuaded me that you were a straight shooter.”

I took a sip of my beer.

“You see, that guy that married my sister was a philanderer.  He treated her like crap.  He did things to his daughter, Kensey, I’d rather not tell you about.” 

A sick feeling crept into my stomach, “Go on.” 

“She told him she was going to turn him in.” 

“What your sister?” 

“No Kensey.” He coughed, “I told her not to do that, but she did.” 

He put his hand to his face to hide his tears.

“Oh my God.” I began to see what  he was saying.

“Nobody listens to me.  Nobody listened to me then and nobody listens to me now.” He began to sob. 

“I am listening.  I am hearing you and I believe you.” I assured him.

“He did things to her, I know it.” He was silent for a moment, “He found out and he drove her out to the river where he murdered her. My sister found out about what happened and she confronted him. I am not sure what he did, but I’m pretty sure he murdered her, too.  I wish I had proof.  I wish someone would believe me.” 

“I do.” I put my hand on his and I looked into his eyes glistening with tears. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Drago stood up as four uniformed officers entered his office.

“Detective Oliver Drago, I am charging you with the murder of Emily and Kensey McQeen.” I held up the arrest warrant.

“Are you crazy?” He gasped as one of the officers affixed the handcuffs.

“What is the meaning of this?” Chief Richert.

“Chief Richer, I have an arrest warrant for you as well.” I proclaimed.

“On what charge?” He pounded his fist on the desk.

“Conspiracy to conceal evidence in a murder investigation.” 

“Is this some sick joke?” His rage was near the boiling point.

“You covered up the murder of Kensey McQueen.” I read from the warrant.

“Nonsense, this man has no affiliation with the McQueens.” Chief Richert glanced at Drago.

“Except his name was Oliver McQueen at one time, wasn’t it?” I asked

Drago’s head bowed.

“What is the meaning of this?” Chief Richert demanded as they clicked the handcuffs behind his back.

“It’s true.” Drago mumbled.

“You fool, I knew you were weak.” Chief Richert raged.

“I killed my own daughter and my wife…” One of the officers pulled Drago out the door while another officer pulled Chief Richert. 

I saw Al sitting at his desk.  I approached him, “You knew didn’t you?” 

“Most of us did. Anyone who was here twelve years ago, did.”

“Heavy is the guilt, eh?” I patted him on the shoulder. 

“Enough to crush us all.” Al put his head on his desk and sobbed.

Persuasion is a powerful weapon as Hercules found out when Chief Richert and Detective Drago or McQueen were sentenced after their trials.  It was front page news for weeks.

There was a small side story about a dry cleaner owned by Russell Pierce that suddenly closed its doors during the trial.  There was nothing, however, about Alma Freemont who suddenly retired from the Eagle River 7-11.   

“Thank you, Chuck.  Thank you for persuading people to listen to the truth.” Heck told me over a beer at Keefer’s Tavern a few weeks later.

“The truth can be a powerful persuasion sometime.”  I raised my mug, “Cheers.”