To Probe A Beating Heart (33 page)

             
When Averell was questioned initially by the authorities in Cleveland Heights, he stated that he would like to refer to the personnel log that he kept, for a number of reasons. “I track my expenses in this notebook, and other things that help me with my job.” When questioned further, he stated that he had been keeping these records since he started his job and was sure that the old notebooks were all in a box back in Syracuse.

             
“We would like to look at them if you don’t mind,” George said in an interview with Averell. “What do you write in them?”

             
“Well, they are kind of personal, I mean, I wrote a lot of things as I met people and did things. It helps me keep a lot of the customers that I visit straight in my mind. You know, like Bob in the Cleveland Heights distribution center is a bit of a jerk, likes hockey and his wife just had a baby, I think about a week ago.”

             
“You seem to remember that alright,” said George as he watched Averell’s expression.

             
“Yeah,” said Averell, “That’s the point, I read my last notes for Cleveland Heights, last night and again this morning, before coming to town, learned that from a car salesman.”

             
“So could you bring them in, let us look at them?”

             
“If you really want to see them, but again, a lot of the stuff in there is very personal, I wouldn’t want it to get back to any of my customers, or my boss, I think that I said some things about him too.”

             
“Please, Mr. Danker, seeing these logs could help us rule you out as a possible suspect and as a possible witness. Just how many books are there?,” asked Vince.

             
“Oh, I really don’t know, I just toss them into a box in my garage when I have a new one well along the way. There may be fifteen, or twenty, I really don’t know, but I will put them in my car and have them with me on my next trip this way.”

             
“When do you think that would be?,” asked George.

             
“Oh, I could be back here in about two weeks with them.”

             
“Or, you could have someone take them to the local police station and they could ship them here, today.”

             
“Well they are in my garage, and it is not locked, they are in a box labeled “Log Books,” on a shelf. As you go into the garage, on the right hand side, kinda close to the work bench, maybe the second shelf up.”

             
“So you give us permission to get them?”

              “Oh, sure, no problem. Just don’t look at the mess on the bench, I have been making Bird Houses for my deck out back.”

             
“Thanks, we will be careful to not disturb anything else.”

             
When the interview was over, Averell thought that he had won that encounter. “You see,” he said to himself, “planning.”

             
“Yeah, planning, that was a good move.”

             
“My logs, well they are a bit personal, but if they can be of assistance, well then, I suppose it would be okay.” He found it amusing to pretend that the material would be embarrassing, he pretended to be concerned that the people that he had criticized might learn what he wrote about them, and he laughed to himself as he told them how to retrieve the log books, all twenty seven of them. He knew exactly how many there were.

             
When the police received the shipment, they counted out all twenty seven. The logs were labeled with beginning and ending dates. The first six were numbered 1 through 6 with a marker pen. The oldest ones were well worn, some were coming apart at the sewn binding. The books were fulfilling their purpose, they were demonstrating his alibi, his continuous alibi for nine plus years, from August 1989 to November 1998, all the time since he started his job. The log books showed his travel miles, gas purchases, meals client appointments and comments. As the team reviewed each case and compared the timing with the log books, they noted that Averell seemed to be more than 100 miles away from the scene of each abduction every time.

             
“It doesn’t fit,” said Bart.

             
“If he was thinking about being caught some day, he could have doctored the logs,” said Adam.

             
“That would take some planning,” said Andy, “Is he that bright?”

             
“I think that he is,” said Adam, “and in each case he would use an extra 300, 400 or 500 miles, with his travel schedule, that would be easy to bury.”

              “I suppose,” said Bart, “but like Andy said, that takes planning. Look at the book, it looks like a log and diary all in one. He would have to do this sneaky accounting every day until he had covered his tracks.”

             
“Yeah,” said Bart, “a clever little bastard.”

             
“Exactly, “ said Adam, “I think he was solidifying his alibi from day one. This guy has to feel as though he is untouchable. He figures that if he cleans up all trace of his actions, develops an alibi, records it in a way that looks innocent, if the day ever comes that he is caught, he can bring these logs out and say, see here, I was nowhere near that place on that date. But what actually happened, the Heights police requested the books, that worked for Danker, He ‘reluctantly’ allowed them to read them.”

             
“Crafty,” Bart leaned back in his chair and looked at Adam, “but we can use that. Once he sees that this ruse is not working, his little brick house will start to fall apart.”

             
“Yeah, I think you’re right. Now I want another stick to beat him

with, what else do we have?”

              Averell’s history from Bucharest to Syracuse and Rochester was studied. His name changes and his parent changes were identified. The team had people in Syracuse photograph the house where he grew up, the house where Ellie lived today, his high school, neighbors, stores, and of course Sarah, Ellie and Steve. They also had people in California photo Allen and his new family. There were also photos of the alleged victims and the areas from which they were taken. As they examined the current photos, Bart asked if there were any photos of Sarah when she was about six to eight or nine. Adam placed a request for additional information and within a few hours, a photo from a school yearbook in 1981, when she was eight years old was e-mailed to the team. Bart took the photos of Sarah, and each of the victims and stepped back. “Bingo, looky here y’all,” he said as he pointed at the photos. “These eight and Sarah could be sisters, they could be nine-uplets or whatever it is for nine that look alike, well almost alike.”

             
They stared at the board for a few minutes and Adam said, “well we do have our link. Just as we thought, he’s been killing his sister. Should we contact her and see what we can gain?”

             
Aaron looked at the pictures of Sarah and said, “No, we do not want any contact outside our circle of people. If we get what we want, we won’t need anyone else, if we don’t, we do not want any loose ends, so no contact, especially with his family.”

             
Andy was poring over the paperwork and spread out several things on a table. The team sat down and the discussion continued with Bart saying, “So this guy hates his sister, wants to kill her and is taking it out on the rest of the world. Nice.” The team spent all day reviewing the information that they had on the eight prime cases and even though the others were able to be discounted more heavily now, they kept them at the ready. As the interrogation team was getting ready for Averell, they built a series of rooms in the industrial building as a stage for the interrogation. Averell would be contained in a large square ‘cell’ that was ten feet on one side. The walls were twelve feet high and four large, bright light fixtures were suspended at the twelve foot level. The door into the cell had no knob on the inside and the hinges were not visible from the inside. A second small door about two feet high and one foot wide opening to a small cubby hole was next to the door. A corridor was constructed outside leading to two doors. One door led to a bathroom with a shower, the other was for the team to gain entrance to this small layout. There was no view of the outside world from inside the suite and all was painted a bright white. Four cameras were installed in the ‘cell’ high enough that they could not be reached standing on the floor. There was one in each wall and the monitors and recording equipment were controlled by Bart outside the suite. A microphone was in front of the monitors and Adam wore an earpiece. The team was busy preparing the building and rehearsing the procedure to be used in questioning Averell. They wanted to avoid physical force, depending on his own mind to manipulate him into compliance. They were going to deprive him of any view outside his cell, and withhold the time of day. His food would be limited, keeping him hungry at all times and he would not be told his whereabouts or the identity of his captors.

             
“The cleaner the confession, the better and we want this to be rock solid. Anybody could make him confess to all of these abductions, but we want to be absolutely sure that we have the right guy. No questions, no maybes.” said Adam as the team was ready to begin the interrogation.

             
On Thursday, September 23, 1999, at approximately 8:15 in the evening, Averell Danker was confronted in front of his town house in Rochester, New York by two men in dark suits and dark glasses.

             
“Excuse me, are you Mr. Danker, Mr. Averell Danker?”

             
“Yes, what is this about, and who are you?”

             
“We have a few questions for you.”

             
The first man took hold of Averell’s right arm and the second man

grabbed his left arm. The first man then pulled a hypodermic needle from
his pocket, pulled the needle cover off with his teeth and injected the full syringe into Averell’s upper arm through his shirt.

             
Averell twisted and looked at the man with the needle, “I have nothing to say to you guys,” and he went completely limp.

             
The two men “assisted” him into a black Chevrolet Suburban with tinted windows. A bag was placed over his head and handcuffs were placed on his wrists and his ankles. He was then driven to the suburb outside Buffalo, New York and handed over to the interrogation team at the industrial park, in the middle of the night. The driver and his partner were relieved of any further responsibility and were driven to a nearby motel where they went their separate ways with the simple direction, “What you don’t know, you cannot tell, so say nothing, ask nothing and enjoy the rest of your life.” The men shook hands and went their separate ways, never knowing the other’s names and never intending to see one another again.

             
Averell was given another shot to wake him up, taken to the central room, stripped of all his clothes, his watch, rings and glasses. He was handed an orange jump suit and placed in the cell. The cuffs and hood were removed and he was left alone for a few hours. He paced back and forth, knocking on the walls and the doors, checking for an escape route. The room was cold and he put on the jump suit and continued pacing. The team watched on a closed circuit television system as he paced, pounded on the walls and finally called out, “Whoever is out there, where am I, what is happening?”

             
“He’s getting tired,” said Bart, “It won’t be long now.”

             
“Good” said Adam, who had taken a nap and was ready for the first encounter. “So far, so good.” He went back to checking his notes and discussing alternative questioning strategies with the team.

             
Averell paced for a few more minutes and finally sat in a corner, drew up his knees and dropped his head. He fell asleep.

             
“I think he’s out,” said Andy, “How long should we give him?”

             
“Let’s start with about fifteen minutes,” said Adam, “It’s now 1:15 am, so at about 1:30 we wake him up.”

             
Fifteen minutes later, Adam walked into the cell wearing a dark suit and sun glasses and said, “Averell, wake up.”

             
Averell raised his head and opened his eyes. Still very tired, he looked at Adam and was about to say something when Adam spoke.

             
“First let me explain the rules: Rule number one, we ask the questions and you answer the questions; Rule number two, Ah, there is no number two. Just one, now, Do you know why you are here?”

             
“No.”

             
“Come on, Averell, you know why, you killed a little girl named Melissa.”

             
“No I didn’t.”

             
“Yes you did, we know you did and you are going to tell us all about it. You will also tell us about the others. Averell, we are not here to find justice. That is not possible. Justice would be for you to experience all the pain and suffering you inflicted on those girls. For all those little girls to never experience those things that you did to them. For those little girls to grow up and become mothers themselves. No, Averell, justice has passed for them and for you. What we are left with is punishment. The big question is, what punishment is fair and equitable. We know what you did, at least some of what you did, and we want you to fill in the gaps. So here’s what we are going to do. We will ask you questions and you will answer. As soon as you tell us all that we want to know, and we confirm several facts, you will be imprisoned for the rest of your natural life. It’s that simple. Now, we ask and you answer, understand?”