🔵 🔴 By Tyler Bowman. Photo by lauragrafie.
The next video Donovan showed them was of an older woman in a blue floral dress. A serious looking man in a charcoal suit sat beside her. Beverly was confident that she had his number still on her answering machine from when Principal Harrison called. A box of tissues sat in front of Mrs. Snyder. Bev didn’t blink as she watched the teacher struggle to answer the detectives questions in between lowing her nose and dabbing at her eyes.
At times the school’s lawyer would chime in, advising his client that she was not entitled, or obligated, to answer a particular question. It was clear that Donnovan was pressing hard. He sympathized with the older woman, however, Mrs. Snyder was not one of the students, and it was his job to get to the bottom of exactly what happened. By the end of the video Bev couldn’t believe that the teacher still had tears left. Snyders shoulders bobbed up and down as she sobbed; the suits hand rested on her arm as he leaned forward to whisper something. The video ended.
“As you saw, it took some coaxing at first, but eventually Mrs. Snyder did confirm that she was in fact asleep prior to the incident occurring,” Donnovan reiterated.
The DA jumped right in, “Before the incident, yes, but when she woke up she did witness a pair of scissors entering the victim’s neck.”
A moan escaped Beverly’s lips. She fought to keep herself together. Ashley reached over and grabbed her hands.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Ms. Jenkins. I know this is hard, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Beverly nodded away the apology, then tilted her head up with watery eyes.
“No, I’m fine. Please, continue. I know that you’re both just doing your jobs.”
Ashley shot the detective an accusing glare, like it was all his fault. But her voice was soft when she spoke, for only Beverly’s sake.
“Mrs. Snyder witnessed the event, Sam. Plain and simple. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were the boy’s defense attorney.” Ashley laughed a little at her last comment. “What happened, happened; and I won’t allow this criminal in the making to do it again. At least not for as long as the law will allow me.”
Bev’s head perked up. “And how long could that be?”
Ashley exhaled loudly, giving Beverly’s hand a gentle squeeze before answering.
“Not nearly long enough in my opinion. The most he could get, due to his age, would be juvenile life. He’d be released at eighteen, an adult.”
Roughly nine more years. Beverly couldn’t imagine a world where her son’s murderer walked around free. Heaven forbid she run into him somewhere. The bank, a grocery store, anywhere. A chill ran down her spine. She had no idea how she would react, and not knowing scared the hell out of her.
Before the conversation could deviate any further, Donnovan butted back in. “The point that I’m trying to make is that we have no context. Mrs. Snyder doesn’t know why Max did what he did, and for arguments sake, neither do any of the students. There’s a reason why this incident occurred and so far we’re still unclear as to what that is.”
Ashley shuffled around in her seat, clearly frustrated.
“Has no one asked the boy himself why he did it?” Beverly asked, growing frustrated for her own reasons. It seemed like the most obvious thing to do and for the first time questioned the detective’s competence.
Donnovan sighed. He stared at the grieving mother for a breath longer, then pointed the remote back towards the television. The screen came to life with a disheveled looking little boy popping into view. His head hung limp, with his chin resting against his chest. He stared down at the table, fumbling with his hands.
Beverly flinched. She couldn’t see the boy’s face, but of all the horrible things she had pictured, this average looking boy wasn’t it. Surprisingly, her first thought was that he needed a haircut. A man in a similar suit as the one that had accompanied Mrs. Snyder was sitting beside him. She had expected to see Max’s parents in attendance, like Patty’s were, but they didn’t appear on camera. What he’d done was horrible, but Bev couldn’t help but wonder what kind of parents would allow their child to face this alone?
Max’s attorney sat detached presence to the man. She strained to hear what was being said and thought the boy was mumbling. She asked Donnovan if he could turn up the volume. He did, but it didn’t help much.
Off camera detective Donnovan repeated the question. “Can you tell me what happened, Max?”
The boy never looked up. The attorney cleared his throat as he glanced over at his charge.
“I… I didn’t – not on purpose … friends.”
Ashley shook her head as she waved a hand in front of her to get Donnovan’s attention. Reluctantly, he paused the video.
“If this is how the whole interview goes, then let’s not waste any more of our time. Clearly the boy isn’t eager to talk to you, detective. Those who do bad things usually aren’t”, she said with a smug smile.
Ashley stood up, as though to leave. Beverly watched as Donnovan’s face flushed red before bolting up from his own seat.
“Damnit Ashley,” he slammed a fist down on the table. “Can’t you see that the box is traumatized. His reactions are perfectly normal for someone who just experienced something like this. Whether it was on purpose, or an accident, this has messed him up good. He’s probably scared to death. It’s going to take a psychologist to get out that kid’s side of the story, and who knows how long that’ll take.”
Donnovan stood there with his fist clenched, breathing hard. Spittle dotted his lips and chin. What managed to surprise Beverly, though, was that the DA fired back just as aggressively maybe even more so.
“I don’t give a fuck if he speaks or not for the next decade. Because guess what? He’ll be locked up just like his old man, and they’ll have something in common other than just their incarceration”. Ashley shoved a finger into her own chest. “Me!”
Both sides continued to rage, reaching topics that no longer had anything to do with her son’s case. Tired of the arguing, Beverly yelled a question into the fray.
“Why is Max’s father incarcerated?”
Detective Donnovan and the DA were leaning over the table, their faces met in the middle just inches apart. They stopped their shouting match to look at Beverly and shame washed over them, realizing they were wrong for arguing like that in front of her. Each of them returned to their seats embarrassed as they tried to regain their composure and maybe some shred of dignity. Ashley broke the awkward moment by speaking first. “I put him away about four years ago on drug trafficking. It wasn’t his first offense, not by a long shot. He’s got a stretch to do this time; if he’s lucky he’ll make it out to waste the last few years of his excuse for a life.”
“I was the one who brought him in”, Donnovan added. “We picked up up at his house where his wife was happy to see him go. His son, Max, clung to his legs though, refusing to let us take away his dad. Anyone with a soul aced at the sight.”
Beverly found herself almost feeling sorry for the kid. In any other scenario she would have. Just not this one.
“So what about Max’s mother. Why wasn’t she with him during the interrogation?”
Donnovan shook his head in disgust.
“We tried to get a hold of her, but never heard back. I went by the house. What I found there was -”
He kept shaking his head. “DSS took over and the boy is now in their custody.” Beverly didn’t understand.
“Was she not home? Did she not care about what was going on with her son? Does she know what he did?”
“Oh, she was home alright. Max’s mom is a user. I found her passed out on the floor in a puddle of her own piss. After I brought her to, making sure she would live, I told her what happened.”
“Well? What did she say, Sam?” Ashley was curious too. She hadn’t been informed on this part of the story, not yet. Donnovan stared at something between the two women. His eyes distant.
“She couldn’t have cared less. Asked if I minded running by the liquor store for her.”
“And did you?” Ashley smirked.
“I called her P.O.”. Donnovan said, not jumping at the bait.
“These type of kids tend to follow in their parents footsteps. I see it time and time again.“
Ashley stood up. Placing a reassuring hand on Beverly’s shoulder, she handed her a business card with the other. “I’m not sure how long this process is going to take Ms. Jenkins, so of you have any questions, or just need to talk, please don’t hesitate to call.”
She turned to the detective with what might have been pity in her eyes. “Sam, keep me apprised of anything new. I’ll let you know when the state will need you.” She added almost as an after thought: “You can’t save everyone, especially from themselves. We’re products of our environment, most of the time. Don’t lose a lot of sleep on this one, the boy is guilty.”
With one last squeeze to Bev’s shoulder the DA stepped out of the interrogation room. The remaining two sat in silence for a few minutes, both in deep thought.
“I know what it’s like not having a father around,” Donnovan said softly. “It can mess a kid up.”
Beverly agreed, no, she could relate. After Tom died Jamie had taken it so hard, almost personal. A boy losing his father, what can you expect? She had focused so much on Jamie’s emotions and well-being that she ignored her own. Could her son have ended up like Max if she hadn’t made that sacrifice? It occurred to her that both boys lost their fathers at a very young age, just in different ways. Donnovan continued as though he had read her mind.
“I know you lost your husband, and Jamie his father. Your son was fortunate to have a mother like you. Not everyone in similar situations are.”
The detective was building up to something. About to speak frankly and tell this widowed, grieving mother what his thoughts on the matter were, when Beverly noticed something on the television screen behind Donnovan’s head. It was a minute detail, one she had to squint her eyes in order to confirm what she thought she was seeing. The chair toppled over as Bev jumped up, shocking Donnovan. Her neck stuck out, straining, as she crept towards the TV. Her hand shook violently as she brought it up to the screen. A finger rested on the slightly blurred image of a green limousine that Max had between his two small hands.
“That’s Jamie’s”, she croaked. She looked back at the detective. “That’s my son’s toy car”, she said louder.
He stepped up close to the paused image in order to make out what Beverly was pointing at. It was indeed a green limousine. He remembered seeing Max with it, even asking him about it, but didn’t think much more on it after the boy failed to five a coherent answer. Beverly grew hysteric. She didn’t want this kid having anything that was her sons. It didn’t belong to him. Jamie would not have given it to him, she knew that it was his favorite one.
“That’s not his. I want it back. I want it back, now!” Beverly surprised them both when she slammed a hand down on the table. Donnovan stood there staring at her, letting Bev’s anger run its course. She felt embarrassed, but at the same time didn’t really care.
“It’s Jamie’s favorite”, she breathed.
She picked her chair up and sat back down, resting her head in her arms on the table. Her body shook. Donnovan’s heart was almost ripped from his chest when she began to whimper. After turning off the TV, he grabbed a box of tissues and took the chair next to hers. The detective had consoled countless victims and victim’s families throughout his career. It never got any easier. At this moment, though, he was at a loss for words. Torn. His heart went out for this mother, but for Max as well. He knew the boy was scared, but what had struck Donnovan was that the kid was genuinely sad, too. Not sad because he was in trouble; sad because of Jamie’s death. All of the detective’s experience and intuition told him that this had somehow been a misunderstanding, an accident. And not surprisingly the DA was wanting to railroad the kid. Max’s public defender didn’t appear to be interested in the defending part of his job. Probably already write the boy off as a future career criminal as well. His view being that the longer this delinquent stayed behind bars, the less trouble he would cause society. Donnovan knew the paradox when it came to juveniles: The longer they stayed behind bars, the worse they become.
He would have to be subtle, but he planned to help Max the best he could.
The key to his plan – Ms. Jenkins.