My father unlocked the bottom latch and opened the door.
Three police officers-two men and one woman- were standing on the front porch. One of them held a piece of paper. The others held their hands at their hips.
Specifically by their guns.
Clearly, they were worried they might need to use them.
'James Parker?' the lead officer said.
'Yuh…yes?'
The officer stepped forward through the doorway.
He grabbed my father, spun him around until his chest hit the wall with a thud. The other two cops swarmed in, and within seconds my father was in handcuffs. I saw his eyes go wide, this proud, arrogant man. And in those eyes I saw emotion I'd never seen before in nearly thirty years.
My father was afraid.
'What the hell is going on?' I shouted.
'James Parker,' the cop said, 'You're under arrest for the murder of Stephen Gaines.'
8
Amanda and I sat on a small wooden bench in the lobby of the Bend police department. After they'd taken my father away in handcuffs, pressing his head down as he climbed into the backseat of the car like some common thug you'd see on COPS, we followed practi cally bumper to bumper in our rental car.
Upon arriving at the station, I didn't have a chance to talk to my father before they led him into booking.
The City of Bend Police Department had two sections: a two-level structure that sat next to a taller tower, both with sloped, tiled roofs. The sign outside read City of
Bend Police and underneath that read Public Works.
I parked the car in a lot in back and we ran around to the entrance. Inside we refused to leave, or sit down, until we either spoke with my father or an officer who could tell us just what the hell was going on. My stomach was tied in knots. Though I'd long ago learned to give up loving my father, I knew this man wasn't, couldn't be a killer. Not to mention I couldn't even imagine what kind of evidence they had that would enable a warrant to be issued so quickly.
From everything Makhoulian and Binks told me, it seemed as if Gaines was murdered. Not an impulse killing, but exterminated. How could the cops be so blind? How could they possibly connect my father to this when he was in Bend the whole time?
For perhaps the first time in my life, I found myself feeling sorry for the man. He was alone, scared, accused of a crime beyond comprehension. It was all bogus, though. No doubt there was some mistake and he'd be released.
I tried to call my mother, but she didn't have a cell phone. I left a message at home, hoped she would find it.
Finally after an hour of waiting, a cop approached us where we stood. He was about forty, lean, with salt- and-pepper hair, a square jaw and dark, tan skin.
His badge read Whalin. We stood up, desperate to hear why they'd taken my father in for such a horren dous crime.
'You must be Henry,' the cop said. He offered his hand. I looked at him, then shook it grudgingly. 'I'm
Captain Ted Whalin of the BPD. I'm in charge of the criminal investigations division.'
'Where's my father?' I demanded.
'Your father is in a holding cell. Tomorrow he'll have to go before a judge to be properly processed.
There is an outstanding warrant for his arrest in New
York City for the murder of Stephen Gaines.'
'That's impossible,' I said. 'First of all, Stephen
Gaines is his son. And second, my father's never even been to New York.'
Whalin looked confused. 'I can't go into specifics,'
Whalin said, 'but the warrant states that physical evidence does exist that links James Parker to the crime.'
'That's impossible,' I said again. 'I don't think he's left the state in twenty years.'
'That's not up to me to determine,' Whalin said.
'If he's wanted for murder in New York,' Amanda said, 'won't he be extradited?'
'That depends on him,' Whalin continued. 'When he goes before Judge Rawling tomorrow, he'll have the opportunity to sign what's called a nonjudicial waiver of expedition.'
'What does that mean?' I asked.
Whalin said, 'It means that he agrees that he is in fact the same James Parker wanted on this murder charge.
If he accepts the charge, he'll be brought back to New
York City where he'll be entered into their system.
Though that might be a problem.'
'What do you mean?'
'We believe that your father is the James Parker referred to in this warrant. We know he has a relation ship with Stephen Gaines…'
'That's not true,' I said. 'They didn't actually know each other at all.'
'Regardless,' Whalin said, 'it'd be a mighty coinci dence if the NYPD happens to be looking for a com pletely different James Parker in regards to the murder of Stephen Gaines. Wouldn't you agree?'
I didn't have to. The odds were pretty nonexistent.
'As of right now, your father is refusing to grant the nonjudicial waiver.' Whalin said this with frustration evident on his face.
Amanda said, 'And what happens if he refuses to sign it?'
'Then it's our job to prove that he is-or is not-the
James Parker referred to in this warrant. We'll take fin gerprints, blood samples, and confirm with one hundred percent accuracy that he is James Parker. Of course, all that testing takes an awful long time, which means…'
'He stays locked up in your jail until he's extradited.'
'Consider it time not served. Not a second of time he spends in prison here will be taken off any eventual sentence. So if your father wants to contest his identity, so be it. Not my ass sleeping every night on a metal bench. And did I mention he refuses to consult with a lawyer?'
'We need to see him,' I said. 'Right away.'
'He's with two detectives right now, but I think he should be available in an hour or two.'
'Wait,' Amanda said. 'Are they questioning him?'
'If they're doing their job.'
'But you said he didn't have a lawyer.'
'That's right.'
'Then we demand to see him. I have a license to practice law in New York State, where any legal hearings pertaining to this case will occur. Right now your police station is acting as nothing more than a glo rified holding pen. So I can promise you that anything
James Parker says now will be disallowed in a court of law under the assumption that your officers coerced him into making a statement without legal counsel.'
'Listen,' Whalin said, 'right now he isn't even ad mitting to being the right James Parker, so I doubt we'll get much-'
'Now,' Amanda yelled.
Whalin looked her over, then said, 'Follow me.'
He led us into the heart of the BPD station, down a long brick corridor. At the end was a series of three
