Detective (28 page)

The search, which involved checking
and relating invoices, delivery
records, vehicle service schedules,
and payroll sheets, took her most of
a day. But she left with a complete
history of Elroy Doil's work at
Suarez Motors.

Prieto Fast Delivery and Porky's
Trucking were similarly cooperative,
and the four combined visits
revealed other facets of Doil's
character, including the fact that
he disliked regular work. When he
felt like working, probably because
he needed money, he would phone one
of the companies, and if work was
available, he was taken on

228 Arthur Halley

temporarily. He was obviously smart
enough not to cheat or steal at any
of those places, but he clearly
could not control his turbulent,
aggressive nature.

For Ruby Bowe, the next step was
to compare the information with
dates of the various killings.

Back at her desk at Homicide, Bowe
dealt with the outof-Miami murders
first. On March 12, Hal and Mabel
Larsen were murdered in Clearwater,
260 miles northwest of Miami. On
that same day, while working for
Overland Trucking, Elroy Doil drove
a tractor-trailer load of furniture
from Miami to Clearwater, where,
according to a driving log and
expense record, he arrived during
midafternoon and stayed overnight at
the Home Away From Home Motel. Bowe,
her excitement growing, phoned the
motel and learned that it was four
blocks from the address of the
murder victims. Doil returned to
Miami the following day with a load
of coiled steel and plastic pipe.

Also, Doil had made a previous
trip to Clearwater for Overland only
two weeks before and had stayed at
the same motel. The first trip, Bowe
reasoned, could have allowed him to
pinpoint his victims, the second to
murder them.

Next were the Fort Lauderdale
killings of Irving and Rachel
Hennenfeld, reported on May 23,
though it was estimated the victims
had died four days earlier, on May
19.

During May, Doil had made two
trips to Fort Lauderdale, this time
for Porky's Trucking, the first on
May 2, and again on the nineteenth.
A log for the second date showed he
had left Miami at 3:30 P.M., made
three deliveries in Fort Lauderdale,
and returned a few minutes before
midnight. Since the distance between
the two cities was only twenty-five
miles, eight and a half hours seemed
a long time to be away. However, the
earlier trip, on May

DETECTIVE 229

2, which included four deliveries in
Fort Lauderdale, had taken only five
hours. Again Bowe reasoned that
finding the right victims probably
took less time than the gory
business of slaying them.

While the three Miami serial
killings did not have quite the same
close connections, each one
displayed linkages too apposite to
be dismissed as coincidence.

During the morning that preceded
the killings of Homer and Blanche
Frost in the Royal Colonial Hotel,
Doil had made eight deliveries and
four pickups in Coral Gables while
working for Prieto Fast Delivery.
Two of the deliveries were to
businesses on Southwest 27th Avenue,
the same location as the First Union
Bank branch where the Frosts had
gone that same morning to cash eight
hundred dollars in traveler's
checks.

It was entirely possible, Bowe
thought indeed probable that Elroy
Doil saw the elderly couple, perhaps
even in the bank, and followed them
back to their hotel. It would then
be a simple matter to ride with the
Frosts in an elevator to their floor
and, while appearing to be just
another hotel guest, note the number
of their room, then return late that
night. All conjecture, of course,
but combined with the previous
crimes and linkages, it was too
credible to ignore.

Then there were the additional
Miami killings of Lazaro and Luisa
Urbina at Pine Terrace Condominiums,
and of Commissioner Gustav Ernst and
his wife, Eleanor, at Bay Point. In
both cases the records for both
Prieto Fast Delivery and Suarez
Motors & Equipment showed that Doil
made deliveries near the victims'
homes.

The Prieto records copied by
Detective Bowe noted two Doil
deliveries close to the Urbinas' on
separate days and within the three
weeks preceding the Urbina murders.
As for the walled-in,
security-guarded Bay Point subdivi

230 Arthur Halley

sign, Doil had made two small
deliveries there for Suarez
Motors not to the Ernsts, but to
other houses. The last occasion was
more than a month before the Ernst
killings, but that, Bowe reminded
herself, could be because Suarez
employed Doil as a mechanic and only
occasionally used him as a driver.
The two trips he had made into Bay
Point, however, would have
familiarized him with the security
setup and probably enabled him to
talk his way in again with phony
delivery papers.

Something else caught Bowe's
attention. Her copy of the Suarez
Motors paycheck that Elroy Doil had
not collected indicated that he had
abruptly quit work the day after the
murders of Gustav and Eleanor Ernst.

Did Doil quit, Bowe wondered,
because he thought he might be a
suspect in the serial killings by
now and therefore wanted to
disappear?

At the end of her research and
analysis, an eager Detective Bowe
communicated what she had learned to
Sergeant Air~slie. He was buoyed by
her news and, while holding a few
details back, passed along most of
the information to the special task
force members, telling them, "Doil's
our guy, no doubt of h, so be
patient and stay alert despite this
lousy weather. Sooner or later he'll
slip up and we'll be there to grab
him."

Ainslie also kept the assistant
state attorney, Curzon Knowles,
informed. Knowles's reaction,
though, was unenthusiastic.

"Sure, Ruby's been resourceful in
getting all that stuff. And, yes, it
tells us that Doil had the
opportunity to knock off all those
people and probably did. But proving
it is something else, and among the
whole schmeer there's not

DETECTIVE 231

one scrap of solid evidence. You
don't even have enough for an arrest
warrant."

"I know that, counselor, but I
simply wanted to keep you in the
picture. There is a positive side,
though. We're sure enough about Doll
not to waste time on anyone else."

"Yes, I can see that."

"So we'll keep working at it,"
Ainslie said. "There'll be a break
somewhere, soon. I truly believe
it."

The attorney chuckled. "I perceive,
Malcolm, that you are, after all,
still in the faith business."

12

Along with the miserable weather
accompanying the more than
three-week surveillance of Elroy
Doil, an intestinal flu epidemic
swept through Miami. Many in the
Police Department were affected,
including two detectives from the
special task force, Jose Garcia and
Seth Wightman. Both men were sent
home, with instructions to stay in
bed, creating even more problems for
the surveillance process.

As a result, Malcolm Ainslie and
Dan Zagaki were now working a double
shift. They had been on duty for
nine hours; another fifteen lay
ahead. It was 4:20 P.M. and they were
parked in a Burdines Department
Store delivery van on Northeast 35th
Terrace, half a block from Elroy
Doil's two-room wooden shack.

Again, it had been raining
throughout most of the day. Now,
accompanying the rain, the sky was
darkening.

Earlier in the day, beginning at
7:00 A.M., Doil had driven an Overland
Trucking tractor-trailer rig from
Miami to West Palm Beach, then to
Boca Raton, returning to Miami at
3:00 P.M. after an approximately
140-mile haul in difficult weather.
A trio of surveillance teams,
including Ainslie and Zagaki, had
monitored Doil's journey. Apart from
continuous rain, nothing out of the
ordinary happened

DETECTIVE 233

except for one observation Zagaki
made during the drive: "There's
something different about Doil
today, Sergeant. Not sure what it is
. . ."

"He's tense," Ainslie agreed. "You
can see it in his driving, and every
time he stops he seems restless,
like he has to keep his body
moving."

"Does it mean anything, Sergeant?"

Ainslie shrugged. "Could be drugs,
though he has no history of drugs.
Maybe he's nervous. Only he knows
why. "

"Maybe we'll find out."

"Maybe." Ainslie left it there, but
was aware of his own tension, a
familiar sense that events were
somehow moving toward a climax.

Now, having followed Doil from
Overland Trucking's Miami depot to
his home, Ainslie and Zagaki were
waiting for whatever happened next.

"Mind if I doze off for a while,
Sergeant?" Zagaki asked.

"No. Go ahead." It made sense to
take some rest if possible on a long
double shift, particularly since
Doil, after his eight-hour truck
journey, was inside and probably
sleeping.

"Thanks, Sergeant," Zagaki said as
he leaned back and closed his eyes.

Ainslie, though, had no intention
of sleeping. He was still not
totally confident of the young
detective, and the reason he had
paired himself with Zagaki was to
keep an eye on him throughout the
surveillance. To be fair, though,
Ainslie reminded himself, Zagaki's
performance so far could not be
faulted. He had done everything
required of him, including long
spells of driving. Just the same. .
.

It was Zagaki's manner that made
him uneasy, and while it was
difficult to point to anything
specific, Ainslie's

234 Arthur Halley

finely honed instincts told him that
Zagaki's studied respectfulness,
which he overdid by saying
"Sergeant" a few times too often,
was wafer-thin and bordering on
fawning.

Or was he himself, Ainslie
wondered, being excessively
critical?

"Thirteen hundred to
thirteen-ten." The call came crisply
through his portable police radio.

It was Lieutenant Leo Newbold.

Ainslie answered, "Thirteen-ten.
QSK."

To help out during the task force
personnel shortage, Newbold had
filled in on several shifts, pairing
with Dion Jacobo. The two served as
backup to Ainslie and Zagaki, and
were now positioned a few blocks
away in an eightyear-old Ford sedan
with dented fenders, peeling paint,
and a supercharged engine that
enabled it to keep up with anything
on the road.

Newbold's voice came back, "Is
anything happening?"

"Negative," Ainslie said. "Subject
is " He stopped abruptly. "Hold on!
He's just come out of the house,
heading for his pickup." He reached
over and shook Zagaki, who opened
his eyes and sat up straight, then
started the van's motor.

Outside, Doll lumbered across the
yard, his hands pushed deep into the
pockets of his jeans, his eyes down-
cast.

After a few moments Ainslie
continued, "Subject now in pickup,
pulling away, moving fast. We're
following."

Doil's departure was unexpected.
But Zagaki already had the Burdines
delivery van in gear and was pulling
out into the road, keeping the
battered pickup truck in sight.

"We're rolling," Newbold
responded. "Will be behind you.
Advise direction of travel."

Ainslie transmitted, "Subject has
reached North Miami

DETECTIVE 235

Avenue, now turning south." And soon
after, "He is crossing Twenty-ninth
Street."

From Newbold: "We are on Second
Avenue, parallel with you. Continue
advising cross streets. Ready to
cross and take over when you want."

Two surveillance vehicles traveling
on parallel streets and switching
periodically was a regular, though
sometimes tricky, surveillance
technique.

The rain was heavier now and the
wind rising.

Newbold again: "This is your show,
Malcolm. But do you think we should
call in a third team?"

Ainslie answered, "Not yet. Don't
believe he'll go out of town again .
. . He is now crossing Eleventh
Street; we are a block behind. Let's
switch at Flagler."

"QSL."

Ainslie again: "Approaching Flagler
Street. Subject continuing south.
You take him, Lieutenant. We'll drop
off."

Newbold: "We are on Flagler facing
west, making a left turn onto South
Miami Avenue . . . Yes, we see him.
He's behind us . . . has now passed
us . . . two vehicles between us;
we'll keep it that way." A few
minutes later: "Subject crossing
Tamiami Trail, seems to know where
he's going, probably west. Suggest
we switch again at Bayshore. "

"QSL. Closing on you now."

Thus it happened that Ainslie and
Zagaki were in the lead car when
Elroy Doil's pickup truck, after
driving briefly west on the heavily
traveled Bayshore Drive, slowed near
Mercy Hospital, then turned right
into the wealthy residential area of
Bay Heights.

Ainslie reported, "Subject has left
Bayshore Drive, entered Halissee
Street, driving north, very little
traffic." He told Zagaki, "Stay well
back, but be sure not to lose him."

236 Arthur Halley

It was becoming harder to see,
though. While the rain had eased,
the light was going, and it would
soon be night.

Halissee, like most of Bay
Heights, was a street of large,
elegant residences, the whole area
thickly wooded. A twoway cross
street appeared ahead; Ainslie knew
it was Tigertail Avenue, with
similar style homes. But before
reaching Tigertail, the pickup
pulled over to the right and stopped
under a large, overhanging ficus
tree fronting one of the spacious
houses. The pickup's headlights went
out as Zagaki stopped the Burdines
van and switched off his headlights,
too. They were about five hundred
feet behind, with several parked
cars between, but were high enough
to see over their roofs and observe
the head and shoulders of Doil in
the pickup, outlined by a
streetlight.