Chapter IV

~IV~


Swarms of police cars with lights flashing greeted Trey as he got off the hotel van in front of the Radisson. There were several unmarked cars as well, and a giant hearse that had “Platte County Coroner” written across the side. Trey went inside.

In the lobby, he saw two visibly upset flight attendants sitting in a couple of overstuffed chairs. Someone, obviously a Liberty Air supervisor of some kind, was consoling them.

Assisting was Bob Hargrove, the Captain from last night at the bar, and the female first officer he hadn’t recognized. Trey approached the pilots.

“Bob, I came as soon as I could. I’m with the CIRT team, and I want to help in anyway that I can.”

“Trey.” Bob’s voice was shaky. “It’s bad, man.”

“Okay, Bob. Just calm down. Tell me what happened.”

“The li’l gal was supposed to be workin’ with us back to Dallas today. She missed her lobby so I phoned her room to make sure she was on her way down. There was no answer, so I went upstairs. I wasn’t worried or nuthin’, shucks, flight attendants are always late to lobby. I just figured she was in the shower. I knocked and knocked but she didn’t answer. I started to get worried, so I had security open the room just to make sure she wasn’t there—”

Bob stopped and swallowed, but his throat was dry. He was visibly upset.

“Its okay, Bob. Just take your time.”

“There was blood everywhere.”

The voice was not Bob’s east Texas drawl. It came from his female first officer. She was a petite woman in her mid twenties with blonde bobbed hair and tan skin. She was average looking; not playboy material, but fit. She obviously worked out regularly.

“Trey West, with the CIRT team.” Trey extended his hand to the female pilot.

“Anne Bateman.” Her handshake was very firm, like that of a woman trying to assert that she belonged in a male dominated career field. She managed a weak, forced smile, but her eyes dispelled any thought of warmth. Trey saw that her eyes were dark orbs, almost black. Dark and cold. They reminded Trey of something, but he couldn’t place what it was. Her eyes lacked any emotion at all; not sadness, anger, fear, or hate. There was no emotion in them at all. Trey realized she must be in shock.

Bob continued describing the scene in a hushed voice, as if in a daze. He had resumed speaking before Trey and Anne had finished their introductions.

“Trey, I’ve hunted a lot a deer in my time, and I’ve gutted ‘em out and hung ‘em up in the huntin’ camp hundreds of times. And that’s just what I saw in there. God. Poor Mandy.”

He couldn’t seem to go on.

Trey turned to the co-pilot, who finished describing the scene.

“Her arms were handcuffed to the shower head and she was sliced open and disemboweled.”

“Oh my God.” Trey’s mouth dropped open. It took a second for the horror to sink in. Then Trey’s CIRT training took over.

“Here, let me get you both some coffee. Have a seat and try to relax. Have the police taken your statements yet? We’re pulling you guys from the rest of your trip, with pay of course. When you’re ready, you can catch the next plane to Dallas. I want you to take as much time off as you need. I’ll be in touch with the Special Services committee today and they’ll be arranging for some trauma counseling for you both. Next week I’ll be meeting with you again so we can debrief a little more. Right now I want you guys to just try to relax.”

A plain clothes policeman approached the group of pilots and introduced himself to Trey.
“Detective Millard Jennings, Kansas City homicide. I’ve just got some questions for these two, and we’ll be through with them for today.”

“I understand, Detective. I’m Captain Trey West, representing the Liberty Airline Pilot’s Association. If there is anything I can do to help in your investigation, I’m at your service. My first duty, however, is to see to the needs of my pilots. They need some rest, and I’d like them to be able to go home as soon as feasible. When you have what you need, of course.”

“Of course.” The detective launched right into his routine. “I tried to speak to the pilots earlier,” he pointed to Bob, “but Captain Hargrove asked that he and the first officer be allowed to wait for a union representative before making any statements. Would that be you?”

“Yes. If we could just have a few more minutes, Detective, we’ll be ready to answer your questions. First, though, we are waiting for our attorney to arrives. It should be any minute now.”

“An attorney? They’re not under arrest, Captain.”

“I understand that, sir. It’s just a position and a service that the union provides whenever something traumatic like this occurs. Our attorney will be arriving shortly. My pilots will speak to you then.”

The detective scowled. At that very instant, a sharp dressed man with a leather briefcase entered the hotel lobby, followed by a mob of press. Uniformed police sequestered the group back outside, but let the businessman through. His hair was expertly coiffed and he was immaculate and professional looking, wearing an Italian suit with well polished loafers. He extended his hand as he approached Captain West.

“Enoch Lowen, attorney on retainer for Liberty Air Pilot’s Association. Ben Nichols phoned me and I got over here as fast as I could.”

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Lowen. Trey West, Critical Incident Response Team.” Trey introduced the attorney to Bob and Anne, and then sat with them as they told the attorney what had happened. Moments later, the attorney called the detective over, who commenced asking his questions. It took the better part of half an hour.

Near the end the questioning, as the detective wrapped up some final details, Trey stole away to meet with the woman who had been helping the flight attendants. Her nametag read Angela Washington, and underneath it was written Manager, Ramp and Operations. She also wore a red ID card that proclaimed in big bold white letters MCI CIRT. MCI was the airport identifier for Kansas City International Airport, and CIRT indicated she was on the Critical Incident Response Team. Liberty Air had CIRT personnel designated in each of the cities they flew to. In MCI, it was Angela Washington. She was a tall black woman, and her closely cropped hair told Trey that she was all business, but she belied that impression with her compassion toward the distraught flight attendants.

“Hello, Captain West. Captain Nichols told be to be expecting you.” She gestured toward the flight attendants. “The two girls are pretty shaken up. I’m trying to calm them until a CIRT representative from their union can get here from Midway to attend to them.” Chicago’s Midway airport was the closest flight attendant crew base, and like all crew bases, was staffed with CIRT members for the various employee unions.

“How much of the scene did they see?” Trey was thinking about the horrors that Bob and Anne had described earlier.

“Captain Hargrove wisely kept them away when he and the security guard went in the room, so they didn’t see the details. They just know she’s dead.”

“Okay. If you like, when I’m done with the pilots, I’ll sit with the girls until their rep arrives.”

Angela agreed.

Trey went back to Bob and Anne as they finished their statements with the detective. The two expressed their desire to continue their flight schedule for the day, but relented when Trey insisted that the union’s policy was that they were done flying for the day. He explained their rationale.

“We’re just trying to protect you and the passengers from any delayed response that might occur. You might feel okay right now, but there’s the danger of a delayed response to what you have witnessed today. It would be best for everyone if you just dead-head back to Dallas.”

Trey assured them that the CIRT chairman back at headquarters was already making arrangements for their trips to be covered with full pay. Finally, the flight crew relented, and Trey rode with them to the airport and put them on a flight leaving for Dallas. On the way back to the airport Trey called Paul Jacobs, the Dallas CIRT representative, and coordinated for the two pilots to be met in Dallas.

When Trey got back to the hotel where the murder had occurred, he was swamped by media crews with cameras rolling. He addressed them all with a single statement.

“Liberty Airlines has no comments at this time.”

“What about LAPA?” It was spectacled young reporter with a handheld recorder.
“The Liberty Airlines Pilots Association has no comment.”

“ALFA?” the reporter countered. He seemed hung up on acronyms.

“The Association of Liberty Flight Attendants has no comment at this time.”

Reporters shouted dozens of other questions but Trey rebuffed them with numerous “No’s” and a continual shaking of his head. Finally he broke free and left them behind, outside the lobby doors.

Passing a policeman guarding the entrance, Trey hurried inside and saw that Olivia Vasquez had arrived. She was the CIRT Flight Attendant representative from Midway. Trey had worked with her on a critical incident several years ago, where a flight attendant had committed suicide on her layover. Trey liked Olivia, mostly because she had experience in CISM, Critical Incident Stress management. Olivia had worked at American Airlines years before, and had been one of the flight attendants to survive the wind shear disaster that had occurred at DFW airport.

Olivia nodded when she saw Trey, and continued to comfort the upset attendants. Trey saw the girls were in good hands, so he called his boss back to make sure all the bases were covered.

“I’ve got the pilots headed home to Dallas Love Field, and Paul Jacobs is going to meet them and get them home. Do we have someone notifying Mandy White’s family?”

Trey and Ben discussed the details of the CIRT response until Trey was interrupted.

“Captain West?” It was detective Jennings.

Trey remarked how the detective lacked any fashion sense. He was a round man, dressed in a cream colored shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark brown slacks and shoes, and a brown knit tie. He looked like he stepped right off the set of the old TV show Dragnet. Trey wondered if the detective also patterned his investigative skills after Joe Friday and Bill Gannon. The detective’s eyes were shiny behind thick rimmed tortoise shell glasses that made his eyes look unnaturally large. He seemed eager to share something.

“Captain West?” he said again as he approached.

“Ben, I’ll get back to you later.” Trey hung up his cell phone. “Yes detective? How can I assist you? If there’s any more information you need, I’ll be glad to give it to you—”

“Would you like to see the crime scene?”

Trey wasn’t sure he’d heard the detective right. “Excuse me?”

“Would you like to see the crime scene?”

“Are you serious? I didn’t think you would let me near it after the way I brought that attorney in here.”

Anger flashed in the detective’s eyes, but was immediately replaced with a look of smugness, as if the cop was eager to portray himself as in control of the situation in the hotel.

“I spoke with your boss earlier, Captain Nichols I think his name was, and he told me you have some FBI law enforcement background. I thought you might want to take a look.”

“Well, it’s really just a degree in criminal justice. I was a pilot for the FBI fifteen years ago. I couldn’t even pretend to be able to do your job, detective—”

“I’m not exactly asking you to join the team. But I’ll allow you up there for a moment, just as an observer.”

Trey sensed the detective strutting a little. It was as if he was dying to show somebody his crime scene.

“All right then, detective. I’d like to see the scene.”

The detective led him up the elevator and through the uniformed officers and other plainclothes men on the third floor. He stopped at the hotel room door where the murder had occurred and turned to Trey.

“Don’t touch anything. We haven’t finished dusting for prints yet. Put these gloves on, just to be sure.” The detective handed Trey some sterile surgical gloves. “And one more thing,” he said with a wry smile as he grasped the doorknob behind his back, “just so we understand each other. I won’t try to play pilot on your aircraft, and you don’t try to play detective on my murder.”

“Understood.”

Trey followed the detective down the hallway and onto the elevator. He wondered if he would be sorry he had agreed to this.