“What’s wrong?” Cassidy asked.
“ ‘Cecilia Parker,’ ” I forged on, “ ‘noticed a van matching the description of the one sought by police in connection with the murders. Parker, who is based in Bakersfield, knew of the Ryan-Neukirk case and immediately became suspicious when she saw the van parked on a gravel turnout on a ledge above the Kern River. At first believing the vehicle to be abandoned, on closer examination of the area, Parker spotted Powell’s body lying in some brush between the ledge and the river. Powell, who may have stopped at the turnout on his way back to his home near the lake, is thought to have misjudged the edge in the darkness and fallen to his death.
“ ‘Police said evidence implicating Powell in the Ryan-Neukirk murders had been found, but declined to be any more specific about the nature of the evidence. Sources close to the department say bloodstains not consistent with Powell’s own wounds were found on his clothing, and keys that fit locks at the warehouse were on his key ring.
“ ‘Equally damning was the silent identification given by the only witnesses to the brutal murders — Ryan’s and Neukirk’s young sons. Each boy was independently shown a number of photos and asked if he saw the murderer among them. Both boys pointed out Powell’s photo.
“ ‘Although Powell had previous arrests for assault and battery, as well as drug possession, he had never been convicted of any charges.’ ”
There was a photo of Powell, a mug shot taken during one of his quick visits to the city jail, back in the days when he was breathing. He had one of those fierce expressions that hardcases sometimes adopt for mug shots; he had chosen the one that says, “I call Satan on his private line.” He could have been practicing for a Charles Manson look-alike contest. He would have won, if he had been willing to dye his stringy blond hair a few shades darker.
I printed this article, too, then browsed forward. The articles about the Ryan-Neukirk murders grew smaller and began to appear only on inside pages. There was an interview with Powell’s mother, who proclaimed her son could not have done all those terrible things they said he did. “Those were just little boys telling lies, like little boys will,” she was quoted as saying.
But the other articles revealed that the police had a rather conclusive array of evidence against Powell, from his footprints being found in the blood on the warehouse floor to the victims’ skin and hair under his nails. The van was dismantled, and a knife with the victims’ blood and Powell’s fingerprints was found hidden behind a wooden panel. Even without the boys’ identification of him, it seemed clear that Powell had been the murderer.
The motive was not so easily established. Police and hospital records showed that Ryan had treated Powell in the emergency room a year or so earlier. Powell had been brought to the hospital by police after sustaining injuries while resisting arrest. (The charges, which were not specified by the police, were later dropped.) Powell had never complained to anyone about Ryan’s treatment of his injuries. No one knew why he would attack both men and their sons or even Ryan alone — but Ryan was the only one of the four who had ever met Powell. The stories disappeared entirely by the beginning of July.
I began to rewind the reel. As Brandon went to look for photographs, I leaned back in the chair and put my fingertips over my eyelids, trying to stave off images.
“Feeling sympathy for them?” Cassidy asked.
“Naturally I am. Nothing like this should ever happen to anybody.”
I opened my eyes again just as Brandon brought over a pair of photographs. “We don’t hang on to all our old photos here, the way some papers do,” he said. “But I found these two. You’re lucky they weren’t tossed out.” He handed them to me. “There were several copies of that first one in the files. I think it’s the one that won the award.”
It was the one of Frank holding the boys. The photo in the paper had been cropped down from this one, but this print, with more definition than the microfilm could offer, was even more moving.
Brandon handed the second one to me. It showed the boys dressed neatly for school, their arms around each other’s shoulders, their faces serious. There was another quality there, one that took a little longer to see. It was in the fierceness with which they held on to one another, in the wariness in their large, dark eyes.
They were scared.
Cassidy took the photos and studied them as I loaded the second reel of microfilm. I moved the film forward to September 23.
There was nothing on the front page. I went slowly through the pages that followed, but it wasn’t until I reached the features section that I came across the photograph Brandon had just shown us. WHEN CHILDREN TAKE A VOW OF SILENCE, the headline read. The caption on the photo said, “This week, Bret Neukirk and Sam Ryan return to school after a summer of silence. Speech therapist Regina Szal hopes to help them find their voices.”
The article was on elective mutism, a communicative disorder in which a person who is physically capable of speaking refuses to do so. Szal, who was quoted extensively, said that elective mutism should not be confused with shyness. Some elective mutes speak in certain environments, such as the home, or with certain people, such as a parent or sibling. “Twins sometimes refuse to speak to others for a period of time during early childhood,” she said. “They’ve been known to develop secret languages, shared only between themselves. But later — often when they begin to go to school — they form new friendships, establish separate identities. While they may continue to use their secret language between themselves, they will begin to talk to others.”
Then, after recapping the stories from June, the article focused on Bret Neukirk’s and Samuel Ryan’s mutism. Some had expected the boys to begin to talk once they knew Powell was dead. Instead the boys had developed a secret language — including words, manual signs, and written symbols. The language was used only when they were with one another; they continued to be silent when others were present. The complexity of their system of communication was a sign of the boys’ intelligence, Szal said.
Szal also said that this type of elective mutism, the result of extreme emotional trauma, required more complex treatment. Counselors, parents, teachers, and speech therapists must work together. “Usually, with a case rooted in trauma, we would be working with an individual child,” she said. “In this case, there are two children who, in many ways, consider themselves to be brothers. They’ve grown up together. Their fathers, though not related, were very close, and their mothers are the best of friends. The boys are the same age and survived a horrific experience together.” Asked how the problem should be approached, Szal said, “Gently and patiently. Bret and Samuel are frightened, as anyone would be. We need to help them to feel safe again. Perhaps then they will speak to us.”
Looking at the date of the final article, I expected it would be some type of progress report on Szal’s efforts. I was wrong.
SLAIN DOCTOR INVOLVED IN DRUG TRAFFICKING, the headline read. Before I could read the first paragraph,
