To Hatred Turned

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Authors: Ken Englade
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grandmother.
    While she harbored inner doubts about the value of the statements she had taken from the boy, Coker placed enough credence in what he had said, backed by Larry’s claim that he thought Gailiunas was the murderer, to form a basis for a request to have the boy temporarily placed under protective custody so he could not be influenced by his father or his grandmother until someone with training could question him more closely. That never happened. McGowan decided that the boy did not know anything of value and a youth expert was never summoned to interview him.
    It was three A . M . Wednesday before McGowan, who was supposed to have finished his shift at eleven o’clock the previous night, got back to his office from 804 Loganwood Drive.
    Gailiunas and Larry were still there, but rather than try to question them then, McGowan spoke to them only briefly and asked them to call later in the day to make an appointment to come back in a couple of days for a formal interview. He felt comfortable in letting them go because, although each had blamed the other, laboratory tests showed that neither had fired a weapon recently.
    Also, McGowan’s instincts told him that neither of the men had been the shooter. In most such cases, those close to a victim are generally regarded as prime suspects. Although neither Gailiunas nor Larry was out of the woods yet, the circumstances of the crime did not scream “crime of passion” to the veteran investigator. If Rozanne had been shot during a lover’s spat, he reasoned, the house would have yielded some evidence of a struggle, which it did not. Also, he would have expected to find Rozanne crumpled on the floor rather than methodically tied spread-eagled across a bed. Despite the fact that Rozanne was found nude, there was no indication her shooting had been a sex crime either. Instead, given the details at the scene—really the lack of details—McGowan suspected that he would find that Rozanne had been shot by a stranger in a random act of violence. And that frightened him because it meant that somebody else might be in danger. He would not concede, not even to himself, for many, many months that it could have been a contract killing.
    But before he could come to any hard conclusions about Larry and Gailiunas, McGowan would have to verify alibis, interview and re-interview other people, study the crime-scene findings, go over the evidence, even if it was pitifully little—in essence, sift and talk and examine and deduce: the basic ingredients of good detective work.
    When McGowan finally left the yellow-brick police headquarters to drag himself home, he had a sinking feeling that the Gailiunas shooting was going to be a ballbreaker case, one that would strain his talents to the limit. He was right; before he could close his file on Rozanne, the investigation would consume almost a decade of his life.

8
    Before either Larry or Gailiunas could come back for his meeting with McGowan, the investigation of the shooting of Rozanne Gailiunas took the first of several dramatic turns. It was not an unexpected change, but it was crucial nonetheless. On Thursday, October 6, the case became a homicide. Some forty-eight hours after Rozanne was wheeled into the operating room, after consecutive brain wave tests showed no resumption of normal activity, the breathing apparatus was shut off. At 8:56 P . M ., two days and almost two and a half hours after she had been found, Rozanne Gailiunas was officially declared dead. She had never regained consciousness. At the time she died, Rozanne was thirty-three years and twelve days old.
    Not long before she was shot, Larry and Rozanne had been discussing the status of patients being kept on life-support equipment and Rozanne had expressed her dislike for the procedure. Larry remembered this as he and Rozanne’s sister, Paula, sat in Rozanne’s hospital room, keeping watch over the unconscious victim. A few minutes earlier, doctors had told the two

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