63
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CityTalk
by JEFFREY ELLIOT
The long and winding road that has been the investigation into the death of Katie Chase came to an abrupt ending yesterday with the suicide of Ruth Chase, the victim’s mother-in-law. Following a lengthy tape-recorded interrogation by Abraham Glitsky, the former head of San Francisco’s Homicide detail, who had become the lead investigator in the case, the elder Mrs. Chase confessed to four murders: her two former husbands; Katie Chase; and Chief Deputy Adam Foster, whose death by gunshot last Saturday was previously considered a suicide.
During the interrogation, Mrs. Chase apparently decided to end her life rather than face prosecution and probable imprisonment. According to police, she was able to consume a massive dose of the prescription drug Elavil without being observed.
According to Ruth Chase’s taped statement, Katie Chase had discovered that the deaths of both of Ruth’s husbands, which had been ruled accidental, might have been murders. In each case, the elder Mrs. Chase had received substantial life insurance payments. When Katie Chase confronted her mother-in-law with her suspicions, supporting them with documents retrieved on Internet searches, Ruth Chase decided that she had to act. Knowing that Katie would be alone while her husband was driving to the airport on the day before Thanksgiving, Ruth confronted her daughter-in-law at gunpoint, somehow got her to a nearby park, and shot her.
Later, after her stepson, Hal, had been arrested and charged in his wife’s death, Ruth Chase saw and took an opportunity, perhaps under the guise of a proposed sexual encounter, to meet with Mr. Foster, who was already a suspect in three other murders: Alanos Tussaint, Maria Solis-Martinez, and Luther Jones. Meeting with Mr. Foster in a Presidio parking lot, she shot him in his car and was successful in making it look like a suicide, complete with a handwritten suicide note.
Although Mrs. Chase’s confession clears Mr. Foster of any involvement in Katie Chase’s death, it also leaves unresolved the investigations into those latter murders.
* * *
AS JEFF ELLIOT had noted in “CityTalk,” Ruth Chase’s arrest and suicide essentially negated the solutions to the murders of Alanos Tussaint, Luther Jones, and Maria Solis-Martinez. Since Ruth had no possible connection to any of those individuals, and since she had confessed to shooting Adam Foster with her husband’s old service revolver, there was no longer any reason to believe that the chief deputy had played a role in those other three deaths.
For Burt Cushing, this was unacceptable.
So on the Monday following Ruth’s demise, after a weekend of feverish activity among the jail guards, and in cooperation with the Homicide Department, Sheriff Cushing stepped before the microphones in front of the mayor’s office at City Hall. He carried an impressively thick manila folder. With His Honor Leland Crawford hovering behind him and making the flattering and supportive introductory remarks, he was flanked by SFPD Homicide chief Devin Juhle and by the city’s medical examiner, John Strout. (Rather conspicuous in his absence was the district attorney, Wes Farrell, who had begged off because of a previous speaking engagement.)
When he got to the podium, Cushing’s usual jovial political face was nowhere to be found; in its place was a stern and solemn law enforcement officer with some serious news to convey. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “we’re going to take all the time we need to answer your questions regarding the results of the examination that is the subject of this press conference today, but first I’d like to present you with the conclusions that have been reached by a joint task force of the Sheriff’s Department, working in tight partnership with the SFPD, especially with Devin Juhle here, who, as you all know, is the head of Homicide.
“A week ago Saturday, my chief deputy, Adam Foster . . .”
Cushing went on to reiterate the salient points: the apparent suicide with the damning note; the conclusion shared by all that Foster had murdered Katie Chase, Alanos Tussaint, and Maria Solis-Martinez; the startling confession of Ruth Chase regarding Foster and Katie, followed by the even more shocking fact of her own suicide, which, Cushing gratuitously noted, took place in the presence of Glitsky, “whose actions in that setting are even now the subject of a major investigation.”
Cushing looked down at his notes, raised his eyes, and surveyed his audience, then started in again. “When I first heard about Ruth Chase’s confession, the first thing that occurred to me was Adam Foster was innocent of the murders that had been attributed to him. My trusted lieutenant, even more than the other men under my command, had been like a son to me”—here he wiped a finger under his right eye—“and I did not want to believe him capable of those kinds of heinous acts.
“Nevertheless, upon reflection, I realized that my duty came first, far above my personal feelings. If Adam was indeed responsible for these crimes, it was my job to find out about it. I’ll admit right here that my original intention in ordering a task force investigation was to find proof that Adam was innocent. To that end, we began a series of interviews and searches that, to my great sadness, revealed a long-term pattern of corruption and institutional malfeasance, at the center of which was Adam Foster.”
He held up the manila folder. “In these pages are a collection of memoranda, emails, phone records, testimony of other jail guards, and personal notes that unequivocally document the bare fact of the matter: Chief Deputy Foster ran a large contraband smuggling ring into and out of the jail. Of course, Chief Deputy Foster could not have done all of this without the cooperation of several of his coworkers, many of whom worked under extreme duress and threats. Over the course of the past five days, we have identified most, if not all, of these accomplices, and we will be determining the proper disposition of these individual cases on an ongoing basis over the next several days, weeks, and months.”
Cushing glanced at his notes, squared his jaw, and continued. “As to the main event—the allegations of the murders of Alanos Tussaint, Maria Solis-Martinez, and Luther Jones—it is my terrible duty to inform you that these, too, appear to be the work of Adam Foster. Several guards who had provided an alibi for Mr. Foster on the day of Mr. Tussaint’s murder have come forward and, no longer under the sway of Mr. Foster’s coercion, admitted their roles. Likewise, all of the so-called poker group members who had verified Mr. Foster’s alibi on the night of Ms. Solis-Martinez’s murder have recanted their earlier testimony. One of them, Michael Maye, has further testified that Mr. Foster admitted the killing to him. All of these men lived under the constant threat of reprisal by Mr. Foster if they did not play along with his nefarious plans. Let me be clear: That behavior is not acceptable, especially for people in law enforcement, and the Sheriff’s Department, again, will be dealing with these cases individually to restore public trust in the department.”
Cushing drew himself up straight. “I would be remiss if I tried to deny my own responsibility for this scandal. As sheriff, I supervise the jail. The buck stops here. I should have seen or intuited what I did not see. I let a culture develop on my watch that is unacceptable in every respect, and if the citizens of this city, in their wisdom, choose to remove me from office, I will humbly do their bidding.
“But if, as I hope, the city can forgive me, I promise that in the future, I will earn your trust and your respect once again, and that this Sheriff’s Department will again be a beacon of efficiency, organization, and most of all, compassion.
“Now I’ll be happy to take your questions.”
? ? ?
OVER HIS PETRALE at Tadich, Abe was enduring Dismas Hardy’s scorn over the events surrounding the death of Ruth Chase. From Hardy’s perspective, though he had gleaned essentially all the amusement he could from the situation (which was not especially funny), Diz wasn’t quite ready to give up. “I think about what you would have done to one of your own troops, back when you were in management, if they’d arrested somebody and then stopped for a drink on the way downtown.”
“We didn’t stop for any drink. It was just her, at her house.”
“Oh, much better.”
Glitsky pushed the fish around on his plate. “You had to be there. I’m not defending it. I’ve already admitted to the universe at large that it was a huge mistake, but . . .”
“But you’re saying it was okay this time.”
“What do you want me to say? I never expected it, not in a million years. Nothing like that had ever happened before. She totally blindsided me.”
“You’re lucky she didn’t have a gun in the bathroom closet. You wouldn’t be here now.”
“Possibly not. On the other hand, I might have shot her first. On the third hand, look at the bright side. I am here now. Plus, I probably saved the city half a mil on her trial. Maybe more.”
“More. I promise.”
“See? Win-win.” Abe took a bite. “Anyway, I’m done beating myself up over it. Do you know how many people that woman killed?”
“Sure. Katie, two husbands, and Foster. Three humans.”
“More.”
“Five? Six?”
Glitsky nodded. “At least six, maybe seven.”
Hardy put his glass down. “What?”
“These four. Then one of her uncles who apparently raped her, a high school teacher, ditto, and a kid in juvie, never proved but probable. To say nothing about both her parents. And who knows how many others.”
“Are you making this up?”
“No.”
“Where’d you get this? If she was in juvie, the record’s expunged.”
“Right, but what do you think I’ve been up to the last week while they were deciding what they were going to do with me?”
“Polishing your résumé?”
“Funny. No. Being a trained investigator, I was investigating, following leads and checking out the truly depressing and scary childhood of Ruth Paley Johannson Chase.”
“Hal didn’t know about it?”
“Not much. He got me to Redwood City, and I took it from there. One of the DAs down there—Mary Patricia Whelan-Miille, who says she knows you, by the way—knew all about Ruth, off the record, of course. Said she was the bad seed all over again. You’ll love this: She’d been following Katie’s case all along and told me if she’d known Ruth Chase was Ruth Paley, she would have called and clued us in, maybe saved a few lives in the process.”
“There’s an upbeat story.”
Glitsky nodded. “I’m an upbeat kind of guy.”
“Oh yeah. People say that all the time.” Hardy sipped some wine. “So, upbeat guy, what are you doing next?”
“Hanukkah, then Christmas. All the kids are blowing through town.”
“Nice. After that?”
“I thought by then, the investigation will be finished, and I’ll get a formal reprimand and then go back to working for Wes.”
“The old Abe would have been bothered by a formal reprimand.”
Abe shrugged. “Sticks and stones. Worst case, they let me go. Then I’ll stop by Wyatt Hunt’s place and check out the PI business, where you don’t have to follow all those rules.” A glint of humor appeared in his eyes. “If it comes to that, I thought maybe you would give me a reference.”
“As an investigator?”
“Either way, with Wes or with Wyatt, I’m going to be an investigator. That’s what I do, Diz. That’s who I am.”
“You’re killing me,” Hardy said. “After all the madness this past month, I would have thought you’d had enough.”
Glitsky spread his palms and broke into what was, for him, a wide smile. “Apparently not.”
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Acknowledgments
Though the actual writing of this novel was very much a solitary affair, I’m much indebted to those friends and acquaintances who bore with me through the artistic and creative angst that seemed to be a near constant companion as the pages of The Keeper piled up. Helping to lighten that load on a regular basis were: my assistant, Anita Boone, Tom Hedtke, Max Byrd, perennial best man Don Matheson, Chief Sommelier and Chevalier of the Brazen Serpent Frank Seidl, the Bistro 33 Friday-night gang, and my golfing instructor, Bob Zaro.
Deserving special mention is my friend and consultant on all things legal, Al Giannini. As in almost all of my other books, Al not only acted as a sounding board for the flow of this story as it developed; he also offered comments and insight on legal issues and law enforcement culture that played a large role in the book’s completion. The other main contributor to this book has been my longtime friend and agent, Barney Karpfinger, whose taste and sensitivity as a reader and critic cannot be overstated. Barney played an active supporting role in every aspect of this book, from the original outline to the finished manuscript.
Several people have generously contributed to charitable organizations by purchasing the right to name a character in this book. These people and their respective organizations are: Joe Payson (the Olaf Wieghorst Museum, El Cajon, CA); Maria T. Solis-Martinez (the Anaheim Public Library Foundation); Dan Sillin (San Francisco CASA); Mary Patricia Whelan-Miille (Yolo County CASA); Tom Scerbo (Baby Basics/Children’s Aid and Family Services); and Lyle P. Wiedeman (Men of Mystery, Writers of the Future).
For some critical medical and pharmaceutical issues, I’d like to thank John Chuck for the introduction to Frank Paloucek, PharmD, DABAT (Diplomate of the American Board of Applied Toxicology), Pharmacy Residency Director, University of Illinois, Chicago.
For everything having to do with social media—my Web page (www.johnlescroart.com), blog, Twitter (www.twitter.com/johnlescroart), and Facebook—I’m grateful to Dr. Andy Jones and his crack team of computer wizards at Eager Mondays. I truly love to hear from my readers, and I invite one and all to stop by any of the sites and join these lively, interesting, and fun conversations.
My two private editors, Doug Kelly and Peggy Nauts, continue to find and correct mistakes that keep trying to make their way into my books. Thanks to both for their keen eyes and critical intelligence.
I am proud to be published by Atria Books, so thank you very much to my publisher, Judith Curr, and my editor, Peter Borland, for giving me the opportunity to work with one of the best imprints in the world. Thanks also to the efforts of the publicity and marketing departments at Atria, especially the indefatigable David Brown.
Oh, and last but not even a little bit least—my children, Justine and Jack, are great joys in my life, and inform all of my books in ways both great and small. I’m so glad we are sharing this life together.