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Authors: Ken Englade
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to ask you a question and don’t you fuck with me.”
“What’s that?” Larry stammered, surprised at the lawyer’s belligerence.
“Did you shoot her?” he asked.
“No!” Larry replied.
“Okay,” the lawyer said, adding he would need a $1,500 retainer before he could represent him.
Reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, Larry made out a check and handed it to the attorney.
“Now,” the lawyer said brusquely, “are you willing to talk to these guys?”
“Sure,” Larry replied, “as long as they don’t accuse me of shooting Rozanne.”
Nodding sagely, the lawyer opened the door and beckoned to Investigator Corley, who was waiting outside.
“He’ll talk to you now,” the lawyer said, walking out of the office.
It was the last Larry saw of the lawyer or his $1,500.
As calmly as he could, Larry explained to Corley about his plans to meet Rozanne that evening and about how he had been trying, without success, to telephone her. But the only time anyone answered the phone, he said, it was Little Peter. He had been talking to the boy when he heard a voice commanding him to hang up.
“About what time was that?” Corley asked.
“I think it was a little after six,” Larry said.
“Do you have any idea who it was that yelled at him?” Corley asked.
“I think it was Dr. Gailiunas,” Larry said without hesitation.
Several days later, when Gailiunas and Larry were alone, the doctor insisted that he had not killed his wife. “Did you tell them that I did?” he asked Larry.
Larry glowered at him. “Yes!” he said, and walked away.
In addition to the doctor and the contractor, there was someone else investigators needed to talk to that night, someone who could perhaps give them some very vital information about what had happened at 804 Loganwood. That was Little Peter.
When it was apparent that there was going to be no speedy resolution to the crime, investigators called Gailiunas’s mother and asked her to bring the boy to headquarters so officers could talk to him. Grudgingly, she agreed.
After Peter arrived, Corley took the boy into his cluttered office and tried with only limited success to get him to open up. A hyperactive child with a short attention span, Little Peter wanted to talk about everything but the events leading up to the time he had found his mother. Although he was untrained in the techniques of interrogating a child, Corley nevertheless was able to establish that Rozanne had made him take a nap that afternoon as punishment for misbehaving in his ice-skating class. After he awoke late in the afternoon, he went into his mother’s room and found her “sick.” When Corley questioned him further about that, the boy replied that “she was tied up so she wouldn’t fall in that stuff,” obviously referring to the vomitus on the floor.
Corley, however, was unsuccessful in getting the boy to answer his questions about the presence of anyone else in the house that afternoon, and was about to give up when Gailiunas walked into his office. Without preamble, the doctor asked his son, in Corley’s presence, “Who told you to hang up the phone?”
“You did,” Peter replied.
But when Gailiunas repeated the question, his son gave a different answer: “Nobody.”
Dissatisfied with the results he had obtained, Corley asked a female officer, Cynthia Coker, to give it a try. Coker, who also had no special training in handling children, and had no children of her own, thus no personal guidelines on how to respond to a four-and-a-half-year-old, had only marginally better luck.
Under the guise of a late-night play session, Coker questioned the boy about who had been in the house that day. Little Peter first told Coker that nobody had been in the house before his mother had gotten sick, but later told her that his father had been present both before and after Rozanne “got sick.” The “after” visit apparently referred to when Gailiunas arrived with his mother, Peter’s
“What’s that?” Larry stammered, surprised at the lawyer’s belligerence.
“Did you shoot her?” he asked.
“No!” Larry replied.
“Okay,” the lawyer said, adding he would need a $1,500 retainer before he could represent him.
Reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, Larry made out a check and handed it to the attorney.
“Now,” the lawyer said brusquely, “are you willing to talk to these guys?”
“Sure,” Larry replied, “as long as they don’t accuse me of shooting Rozanne.”
Nodding sagely, the lawyer opened the door and beckoned to Investigator Corley, who was waiting outside.
“He’ll talk to you now,” the lawyer said, walking out of the office.
It was the last Larry saw of the lawyer or his $1,500.
As calmly as he could, Larry explained to Corley about his plans to meet Rozanne that evening and about how he had been trying, without success, to telephone her. But the only time anyone answered the phone, he said, it was Little Peter. He had been talking to the boy when he heard a voice commanding him to hang up.
“About what time was that?” Corley asked.
“I think it was a little after six,” Larry said.
“Do you have any idea who it was that yelled at him?” Corley asked.
“I think it was Dr. Gailiunas,” Larry said without hesitation.
Several days later, when Gailiunas and Larry were alone, the doctor insisted that he had not killed his wife. “Did you tell them that I did?” he asked Larry.
Larry glowered at him. “Yes!” he said, and walked away.
In addition to the doctor and the contractor, there was someone else investigators needed to talk to that night, someone who could perhaps give them some very vital information about what had happened at 804 Loganwood. That was Little Peter.
When it was apparent that there was going to be no speedy resolution to the crime, investigators called Gailiunas’s mother and asked her to bring the boy to headquarters so officers could talk to him. Grudgingly, she agreed.
After Peter arrived, Corley took the boy into his cluttered office and tried with only limited success to get him to open up. A hyperactive child with a short attention span, Little Peter wanted to talk about everything but the events leading up to the time he had found his mother. Although he was untrained in the techniques of interrogating a child, Corley nevertheless was able to establish that Rozanne had made him take a nap that afternoon as punishment for misbehaving in his ice-skating class. After he awoke late in the afternoon, he went into his mother’s room and found her “sick.” When Corley questioned him further about that, the boy replied that “she was tied up so she wouldn’t fall in that stuff,” obviously referring to the vomitus on the floor.
Corley, however, was unsuccessful in getting the boy to answer his questions about the presence of anyone else in the house that afternoon, and was about to give up when Gailiunas walked into his office. Without preamble, the doctor asked his son, in Corley’s presence, “Who told you to hang up the phone?”
“You did,” Peter replied.
But when Gailiunas repeated the question, his son gave a different answer: “Nobody.”
Dissatisfied with the results he had obtained, Corley asked a female officer, Cynthia Coker, to give it a try. Coker, who also had no special training in handling children, and had no children of her own, thus no personal guidelines on how to respond to a four-and-a-half-year-old, had only marginally better luck.
Under the guise of a late-night play session, Coker questioned the boy about who had been in the house that day. Little Peter first told Coker that nobody had been in the house before his mother had gotten sick, but later told her that his father had been present both before and after Rozanne “got sick.” The “after” visit apparently referred to when Gailiunas arrived with his mother, Peter’s
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