Read Online Birdy Waterman 01 - The Bone Box by Gregg Olsen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gregg Olsen
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Family lunchboxes.”
Even though the woman had clearly been wronged by her boss, in a very real, and very uncomfortable way, Birdy was grateful for it. Pat-Stan’s anger was proving to be more helpful than she’d hoped. Bitterness, sadly, was something that she could put to use.
Pat-Stan pushed the PLAY button. The tape crackled and popped, but Tommy’s voice was unmistakable. It was young Tommy. Broken Tommy. Not the man old before his time rotting away in prison. Tommy Freeland spoke in a deliberate, halting manner.
“I was smoking pot and drinking beer that afternoon in the woods alone. I had talked to Anna Jo Bonners about meeting me at the cabin so we could mess around. Anna Jo didn’t show up so I hung out by myself. I heard a scream coming from the cabin later and I went inside.”
His words were so precise that Birdy wondered if he’d been reading his statement. But he couldn’t have been because the statement was a transcription of the tape, not the other way around.
“I found Anna Jo Bonners in a pool of blood. I was scared that whoever had hurt her was still there so I grabbed the knife. He told me to put it down. So I—”
“Stop the tape, please,” Birdy said, looking up from the transcript of her cousin’s statement, her heart beat a little faster. The Alka-Seltzer roiled in her stomach.
Pat-Stan complied. She kept her facial expression flat, but her eyes were alert and sharply focused. There was awareness behind them, and, Birdy thought, a kind of appreciation for what she was hearing.
Maybe even a little relief.
“Did you hear what I heard?”
“Yes. I guess that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“He says that someone told him to put the knife down,” she said.
“That’s right. That’s what he says.”
“But at trial he said he was alone.”
“He didn’t. Maybe you don’t remember, but Tommy Freeland never actually testified. His lawyer told him not to. The transcripts were used.”
“But the transcriptions are wrong.”
The former detective nodded. “I know. I was there. The only comfort I’ve had is that all the other evidence so clearly indicated that Tommy was the killer. It was only after his conviction that I played back the tapes.”
“Not only that, but doesn’t he sound peculiar?” Birdy said.
Pat-Stan watched her visitor closely. “How so?” she asked.
“Stilted, calm. Not like someone who’d just killed his girlfriend and was looking for a way out of it,” Birdy said.
“Funny that you should say that,” Pat-Stan said, her finger hovering over the recorder to advance the audiotape one more time. “I saw him the afternoon they brought him in. He was a complete wreck. He was barely able to breathe because he was crying so hard. Also, this isn’t an interview tape at all. It seems like a compilation, bits and pieces strung together. Did you hear how the hissing in the background stopped at the end of the sentence?”
Birdy was still stunned by the disclosure that someone else had been at the crime scene. “Not really,” she said. “I’ll listen more carefully.”
Pat-Stan nodded. “I want you to follow along with your transcription, okay? You are missing something.”
“Missing something?”
“Listen carefully. There’s a hiss on the tape just as he says it.”
“All right.”
The tape resumed.
“I ran out of the cabin and hurried down the trail where my cousin Birdy found me. I don’t know why I picked up the knife, but I threw it away before Birdy came up to me.”
“Stop, please.”
The former detective pushed the button, her finger hovering to advance the tape once more.
“He said that he threw it away, before he saw me.”
“That’s what he said.”
“But when I read the report, it indicated that the knife had been recovered from the cabin.”
“I don’t recall that, but all right. What does it matter where it was found?”
“It matters to me. Not so much where, but by who?”
“That’s easy.
Even though the woman had clearly been wronged by her boss, in a very real, and very uncomfortable way, Birdy was grateful for it. Pat-Stan’s anger was proving to be more helpful than she’d hoped. Bitterness, sadly, was something that she could put to use.
Pat-Stan pushed the PLAY button. The tape crackled and popped, but Tommy’s voice was unmistakable. It was young Tommy. Broken Tommy. Not the man old before his time rotting away in prison. Tommy Freeland spoke in a deliberate, halting manner.
“I was smoking pot and drinking beer that afternoon in the woods alone. I had talked to Anna Jo Bonners about meeting me at the cabin so we could mess around. Anna Jo didn’t show up so I hung out by myself. I heard a scream coming from the cabin later and I went inside.”
His words were so precise that Birdy wondered if he’d been reading his statement. But he couldn’t have been because the statement was a transcription of the tape, not the other way around.
“I found Anna Jo Bonners in a pool of blood. I was scared that whoever had hurt her was still there so I grabbed the knife. He told me to put it down. So I—”
“Stop the tape, please,” Birdy said, looking up from the transcript of her cousin’s statement, her heart beat a little faster. The Alka-Seltzer roiled in her stomach.
Pat-Stan complied. She kept her facial expression flat, but her eyes were alert and sharply focused. There was awareness behind them, and, Birdy thought, a kind of appreciation for what she was hearing.
Maybe even a little relief.
“Did you hear what I heard?”
“Yes. I guess that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“He says that someone told him to put the knife down,” she said.
“That’s right. That’s what he says.”
“But at trial he said he was alone.”
“He didn’t. Maybe you don’t remember, but Tommy Freeland never actually testified. His lawyer told him not to. The transcripts were used.”
“But the transcriptions are wrong.”
The former detective nodded. “I know. I was there. The only comfort I’ve had is that all the other evidence so clearly indicated that Tommy was the killer. It was only after his conviction that I played back the tapes.”
“Not only that, but doesn’t he sound peculiar?” Birdy said.
Pat-Stan watched her visitor closely. “How so?” she asked.
“Stilted, calm. Not like someone who’d just killed his girlfriend and was looking for a way out of it,” Birdy said.
“Funny that you should say that,” Pat-Stan said, her finger hovering over the recorder to advance the audiotape one more time. “I saw him the afternoon they brought him in. He was a complete wreck. He was barely able to breathe because he was crying so hard. Also, this isn’t an interview tape at all. It seems like a compilation, bits and pieces strung together. Did you hear how the hissing in the background stopped at the end of the sentence?”
Birdy was still stunned by the disclosure that someone else had been at the crime scene. “Not really,” she said. “I’ll listen more carefully.”
Pat-Stan nodded. “I want you to follow along with your transcription, okay? You are missing something.”
“Missing something?”
“Listen carefully. There’s a hiss on the tape just as he says it.”
“All right.”
The tape resumed.
“I ran out of the cabin and hurried down the trail where my cousin Birdy found me. I don’t know why I picked up the knife, but I threw it away before Birdy came up to me.”
“Stop, please.”
The former detective pushed the button, her finger hovering to advance the tape once more.
“He said that he threw it away, before he saw me.”
“That’s what he said.”
“But when I read the report, it indicated that the knife had been recovered from the cabin.”
“I don’t recall that, but all right. What does it matter where it was found?”
“It matters to me. Not so much where, but by who?”
“That’s easy.
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