Date Night

Content Warning: This story contains violence and references to mental health problems.

The following is an excerpt from the interrogation of Salvatore Jordan by detective Jeannette McBride, Thursday, January 21, 1993. Transcript courtesy of the Farnsworth Police Department.

JEANNETTE MCBRIDE: Sal, you need to give me something, or I’m not going to be able to help you.

SALVATORE JORDAN: I’ve told you: I have nothing to give you. I wasn’t in Matty’s apartment Monday night.

JM: That was a lie when you said it four hours ago, and it’s a lie now. You and I both know it. Now give me something, or I’m bringing Detective Newson back in here.

SJ: [Inaudible]

JM: I don’t want to do that—I know how he can be—but I will. Now, we have a neighbor, Ms. Pieler, who can place you at Mr. Sloan’s apartment at 2 AM. She’s told us that you had red stains all over your clothes, that you had a black eye, and that you seemed panicked. You haven’t been to work since that night, and we found your passenger seat covered in dry blood. When we searched your house, we found a plane ticket for Boston, and the flight leaves tomorrow. Not to mention the fact that your prints were on the knife that most likely killed Mr. Sloan. I can't tell you how bad this all looks for you, so you need to give me something other than “I didn’t do it.”

[Pause]

JM: Come on, Sal! If you don’t start giving me some details, your friends will have to read about how you went to prison for slaughtering a man in his home. And I don’t want that any more than you do. 

SJ: Oh my God… [Inaudible]

JM: Sal, listen to me. I can help you. I don’t know how much, but if you talk to me, I’ll do everything I can. You might even be able to sleep at home tonight.

SJ: Really?

JM: Yes. I can’t guarantee anything—I can’t stress that enough—but if you help me, I’ll do everything possible to help you. Now why don't you walk me through what happened Monday night?

SJ: Jesus… I don’t even know where to start…

JM: Let’s start with the five phone calls you made to Mr. Sloan.

SJ: Did I really call that many times?

JM: Yes. Our records show that you called five times between 9 PM and midnight. And at no point did Mr. Sloan pick up.

SJ: Ok… alright, I did call him a few times that night. I don’t know… he didn’t answer the first time. I thought maybe he was still out, so I waited and called a few more times.

JM: Why were you so dead set on talking to him?

SJ: I wanted to apologize. I’d said some shitty things earlier that day, and everything got a little out of hand, and I wanted to make it up to him.

JM: You had an argument.

SJ: Yeah. Looking back now, I guess it was a long time coming, but I wanted to at least try to fix things.

JM: What was the nature of this argument?

SJ: I just said something I shouldn’t have—

JM: I need details, Sal.

SJ: Alright, alright. We were just getting off work, and he was telling me about some woman he was going to see that night. Mentioned that he’d gone on a couple dates with her back before he’d met Doris—that’s his ex-wife—but that things hadn’t ended well. I guess she was kind of strange. Wasn't really who she seemed, and the whole thing put him off. He wanted to give it another shot. And I… well… I told him that tracked. That she’d have to be some sick freak to go on more than one date with him. 

JM: Jesus, Sal…

SJ: I know, I know. Anyway, Matty gets fucking pissed. Rightfully so, I guess—I’ve always busted his balls about shit like this—but at the time, it seemed totally out of nowhere. He says: “What the hell’s wrong with you,” and I say: “You should ask her that.” He tells me to go fuck myself. Now I’m pissed. I tell him I can’t because I’m already fucking Doris later that night. Well, he steps right over and socks me right in the face.

[Pause]

JM: So you’re saying that’s how you got your black eye?

SJ: Yeah. Before I could even react, Matty was in his car, leaving.

JM: Did anyone else see this altercation?

SJ: No, we were the last ones out. So I get home, I have a few hours to cool down, and I get to thinking that maybe I should apologize.

JM: Oh, you think?

SJ: Yeah, yeah, I know. Anyway, I call. It rings, but I get no answer. I remember that he’s out on his date, and I figure he’ll be home by 10. He’d mentioned that he was seeing this woman at 8, and Matty was never the type to sleep with someone right off the bat. So after a while, I call a couple more times. Still no answer. But then, the—fifth, I guess—time I call, it only rings once and then goes right to the machine. And then I start to wonder if he’s just avoiding me.

JM: Gee, I wonder why that could be. You had, in your own words, said some shitty things to him.

SJ: Yeah. So I get worried. I like to sort things out as quick as I can, but I figure maybe I shouldn’t disturb him. Maybe he’s brought the date back to his place after all. But I try to go to sleep, and I just can’t. I usually fall asleep pretty quickly, you understand, but everything that happened that day was just eating away at me, and it was going to drive me crazy until I could talk to him. So at 1:30 or so, against my better judgement, I throw on a T-shirt and some jeans and drive over to Matty’s place.

JM: So you’re admitting that you lied. You were, in fact, at Mr. Sloan’s apartment.

SJ: Yeah. So—

JM: That’s not making you look good, you know.

SJ: I know, but please! So I go right to his door—you know, he lives in one of those places where the doors to all the units are outside—and I knock. I barely touch the fucking thing, and it swings open. And that’s when I saw Matty. By the time I got there, it had already happened. He wasn’t dead yet, but there was a big kitchen knife in his chest, and he was laying in a puddle of his own blood.

JM: The same knife we found on his floor which had your fingerprints on the handle.

SJ: Yeah, I know, it looks bad. But when I saw him there, I panicked. My first instinct was to take the knife out, but that only sped up the bleeding, so I ran into the kitchen, got a dish towel, and pressed it on his chest. And then he moved his head, and I realized he was still conscious. So I take him down to my car and put him in the passenger seat. And as I’m about to go, he chokes out a few words. Says to go back and close the door because his cat, Ginger, could get out. Odd thing to say at a time like that, but I didn’t think about it. I just did what he wanted. And that’s when the neighbor saw me. I was closing the door, and this woman steps out of the apartment next door and just stares at me. I tried to say something, but I couldn’t. I just ran back down to the car.

JM: Was that the last thing you heard Mr. Sloan say?

SJ: Not exactly. As I started driving off, he tried to say something. It wasn’t so much a word as just a “shuh” sound. I had to get Matty to a hospital. And I need you to believe me: that’s where I was taking him. But maybe two minutes into the drive, he stopped moving at all, and I checked his pulse. That’s when I knew he was gone.

JM: Mm-hm. 

SJ: Yeah. And from there, my mind just went blank. I drove until I was out of town, and before I knew it, I was at Vick’s River.

JM: That’s where the body was found. Why did you take Mr. Sloan to Vick’s River, of all places?

SJ: Because a few years ago, when we first met, we used to camp there some weekends. I don’t think we ever had a bad trip out there. And after things fell apart with Doris, we were out at Vick’s River most Saturdays. So, I don’t know, I know now that it was a stupid move, but at the time, when I first realized that he’d died, it just made sense. I thought maybe he would have wanted to be… I don’t know… laid to rest in the river.

JM: So you admit that you’re the one who dumped Mr. Sloan’s body in the river.

SJ: Yeah. I pulled him out of the passenger seat and just kind of pushed him in. I watched the river carry him off. I didn’t even consider that he might get carried back to shore.

JM: Have any explanation for why you didn’t report it and why no one’s seen you?

SJ: Yeah. I just stopped going into work because after what I’d seen, I just couldn’t find a reason to get out of bed in the morning. And after a couple days, I realized that I could get in trouble for not reporting everything. My head was just swimming, and none of that had ever occurred to me. I couldn’t find a way to really sort everything out, so I got myself a plane ticket for Boston. I don’t know—I guess I had some fantasy of going there and starting over. Putting this whole horrible fucking thing behind me. But that’s when I was taken in.

JM: So that’s your story? You found Mr. Sloan dead and then dumped his body in the river?

SJ: Yes. I’ll always be ashamed of what I did, but I can’t deny it.

JM: Interesting. Well, I’m going to be completely honest, Sal: I don’t buy it. Not for a second.

SJ: But… but I—

JM: No, no. Let me tell you what I think really happened. Based on your story, you strike me as the kind of person who takes things too far. So in the wake of being punched in the face, you were so angry with Mr. Sloan that you broke into his apartment, stabbed him to death, and then made off with the money in his bedroom safe thinking that you’d start a new life.

SJ: Safe? I don’t know about any—

JM: No, you shut your mouth. You stabbed him to death. But you realized that you’d gotten sloppy. And, I don’t know, maybe you even felt a little remorse for what you’d done, and you wanted to clean up your mess. So you put him in your car, going back to close the door because you didn’t want anyone realizing something was amiss. And then you dumped his body in Vick’s River. That sound about right to you, Sal?

SJ: N-no! Please, you have to believe me! I… I went back because he didn’t want Ginger getting out.

JM: Didn’t want Ginger getting out, huh?

SJ: Yeah, that’s right.

JM: That’s funny, Sal, because we searched the place pretty thoroughly, and we didn’t find any cats.

SJ: What? That’s impossible… I’ve seen her so, so many times!

JM: We have everything we need for you to die for this. All we’re missing is the money that was stolen from his safe. And for all I know, you spent it on that plane ticket.

SJ: Please, if Matty had any extra money, I didn’t know about it!

JM: Spare me you lies. You’ve already admitted that you were in Mr. Sloan’s apartment that night, that you were the one who dumped his body, and that you were set on fleeing the state.

SJ: Yes, but—

JM: Quiet. Salvatore Jordan, I’m charging you with the murder of Matthew Sloan.

SJ: Please… [Inaudible]

JM: You did a piss poor job of covering your tracks, and in the end, where did they lead you? Here. Sick freak. 

End of transcript.