Ties That Bind

Chapter Thirty-Four.

Ben Dodson was in a good mood when he arrived at his office on Monday morning. He had a full schedule of patients, but his secretary told him that his four o'clock had canceled, which meant he'd be able to go home early. As Ben went to his filing cabinet to find the file for his first patient of the day, he noticed a slip of paper that was half hidden under his desk. He picked it up and discovered that it was a note that he had scribbled to himself about Amanda Jaffe during one of their sessions. Dodson frowned. The note should have been in Amanda's file. What was it doing on the floor?

Dodson found Amanda's file and opened it. Everything looked in order. He put the paper back in the file and replaced the folder in its proper place. He took out the file for his nine o'clock and sat down to review it. After a few minutes, he paused, distracted by thoughts of the slip of paper from Amanda's file. In his mind's eye, Dodson could see himself placing the slip in the file and replacing the file after Amanda's session. He buzzed his secretary and asked her if she had taken the file from the cabinet. She had not.

Dodson was certain that he had not reviewed Amanda's file since their last appointment, which was when he'd written the note. Amanda had come to see him on Friday. Was it possible that the paper had lain unseen under his desk all day? That had to be what happened because the only other explanation would involve someone breaking into his office.

* * *

As soon as she was at her desk on Monday, Amanda phoned the Portland Police Bureau's police report requests number. A recording told her that all requests for police reports had to be in writing, but it gave her a phone number for Records. A woman answered the phone.

"I'm Amanda Jaffe, an attorney, and I'm trying to get my hands on some old police reports from the early nineteen seventies."

"Gee, we only keep records for twenty-five years. I'm pretty sure we wouldn't have them."

"Even in a homicide case?"

"Oh, that's different. Those we don't destroy, because there's no statute of limitations."

"So, I can get them?"

"You might be able to, but I couldn't give them to you. Those reports are in a locked cabinet in a locked room. The only people who can get them are Records techs."

"Can I talk to one of them?" Amanda asked.

"You could, but they won't give you the reports. They have to be authorized to get them."

"Who can do that?"

"The detectives who handled the case."

"They're probably retired, don't you think?"

"Yeah."

"So?"

"Any homicide detective can authorize the request if the original detective isn't available."

"Thanks."

Amanda dialed Homicide and asked for Sean McCarthy.

"How's my favorite mouthpiece?" McCarthy asked.

"Hanging in there."

"Is this call about Mr. Dupre?"

"Sherlock Holmes has nothing on you, Sean."

McCarthy laughed. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm trying to get my hands on some police reports from the early nineteen seventies. Records won't give them to me without the authorization of the detective who worked the case or, if he's not available, another homicide detective."

"Are the reports connected to Dupre's case?"

"They might be. I have to read them to be certain."

"What do you think you'll find?"

"I'd rather not say until I'm certain I'm going to use them."

"Then I can't help you."

"I'll just file a discovery motion. Why make me go through that?"

"Kerrigan is running this case. He's the one you should talk to. If he tells me it's okay to authorize the release, I'll make sure you get the reports, but I'm going to let him make the decision."

Amanda had hoped that Sean would give her the reports without asking for her reason for wanting them, but she had expected him to refuse. Nothing was ever easy.