That answer drew the first words from Batchelor in this round.
“We’re not handling that side of the investigation,” he said. “This is only about the officer-involved shooting.”
“Yeah, too bad,” Stilwell said. “Because that side of the investigation is what we should be focusing on.”
“That side is well in hand,” Batchelor said.
Stilwell looked away from them and up at the camera, knowing he was looking at Corum.
“Let’s continue,” Harrington said. “We want to move on to what happened in the trailer. Something’s not adding up for us.”
“What’s that?” Stilwell responded.
He braced himself. These men had had hours to analyze the actions he had taken in a matter of seconds.
“You told us you kicked in the door and entered the trailer,” Harrington said.
“That’s right,” Stilwell said.
“You did not identify yourself or instruct Spivak to freeze, correct?”
“That’s correct. There was no time for that. But I didn’t have to identify myself — he knew who I was.”
“There was almost no light in the trailer. Just the computer screen. Would he have been able to see your face and identify you?”
“Good question. I don’t know. I’m sure additional light came in through the open door But I identified him. I could see his face.”
“You said he had just taken his shirt off and was unbuckling his pants.”
“I said he had no shirt on. I don’t know if he had just taken it off, because I wasn’t there. You may be confusing what I said with what Tash — uh, Natasha — told you.”
“My mistake. His shirt was already off when you entered the trailer. His hands were at his belt buckle, is that what you told us?”
“It’s what I told you and it’s what happened.”
“Why did you fire your weapon if his hands were occupied at his belt?”
Stilwell was prepared for the question, although he knew his answer would break his own rule about not outright lying.
“His gun was tucked into his pants,” he said. “He let go of the belt and was reaching for it when I fired.”
“Tucked into the front or back of his pants?” Harrington asked.
“The front.”
“And he was facing you when this happened?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t it odd that he didn’t remove the gun before unbuckling his belt?”
“I don’t know — is it? I can’t speak for what he was thinking, only what I saw.”
“And you told us he was facing you.”
“That’s right.”
“So, facing you, on what side of his body was his gun?”
Stilwell knew that Tash had put the gun on the floor on the left side of Spivak’s body, but he also knew that only one in ten people was left-handed. He went with the percentages.
“His right side, my left,” he said.
Harrington looked down at his notes and something about his face told Stilwell that the percentages were wrong.
“That’s kind of curious,” Harrington finally said.
“How so?” Stilwell asked.
Harrington glanced sideways at his partner before answering.
“Well, we’ve had the weapon dusted and we got a palm print on the grip,” he said. “We haven’t matched it to Spivak yet, but the palm is on the left-side grip, which indicates he was left-handed. But you just told us he had it tucked in on the right side of his pants. That—”
“He had the grip turned in,” Stilwell said. “I think I said that during the walk-through.”
Harrington and Batchelor glanced at each other.
“I don’t recall that,” Batchelor said.
“Neither do I,” Harrington said. “So you’re saying his left hand came off his belt and was reaching across his body to the weapon.”
“Exactly,” Stilwell said. “He was pulling it when I discharged my weapon. Then he went down and the gun ended up on the floor.”
Both of his inquisitors looked at him silently, probably hoping he would add more detail, which they could evaluate for inconsistencies. But Stilwell said nothing more.
“Okay,” Harrington finally said. “I think we have everything we need at this point.”
He ended by officially informing Stilwell that he was relieved of duty with pay until the investigation was finished and submitted to the district attorney’s office for review. There would then be a final determination of whether the shooting was within policy and the law. Stilwell would also be required to set up an appointment with the behavioral science unit and complete a psychological evaluation before receiving a return-to-duty order.
This was the routine after an officer-involved shooting.
“We will reach out to you if we need anything else,” Harrington said.
“And Captain Corum will notify you when the investigation is concluded,” Batchelor added.
“You know how to find me,” Stilwell said. “We’re finished here?”
“Done,” Batchelor said.
Stilwell stood up and left the room. He believed he had handled the interview well, but he also knew that his future was in the hands of people and political forces in the department that he couldn’t control.
36
Stilwell left the island with Tash on Sunday afternoon. They took the Express. Checking before they left, he was informed that Oscar Terranova’s whereabouts remained unknown. With Baby Head at large, Stilwell believed it was safer for Tash to be off island with him. They would stay at a mainland resort and try as best they could to forget the events of the past two days. Stilwell also planned to show up at the behavioral science unit first thing Monday to try to get in for his psychological evaluation and a quick turnaround on his return-to-duty process.
Stilwell had been relieved of duty, but he was not planning to stop forward momentum on his investigations. There were leads to follow on the mainland and he was going to make good use of his time. He decided to splurge for Tash, and they checked into a suite at the Huntington in Pasadena. Staying there had several benefits. It was a luxury resort located far from the crowded city Tash so disliked, and it had a spa and easy access to the Huntington Gardens, which he believed Tash would love and where she could spend time while he went about his work. It was also a straight shot on the freeway from Pasadena into downtown, where he would need to go for his psych eval and casework. And finally, the last address the DMV had for Daniel Easterbrook was in Pasadena. Interviewing Easterbrook was first on his list of priorities on the mainland, and Stilwell believed that talking to him about Leigh-Anne Moss at his home was preferable to interrupting him at his downtown law firm. He wanted to confront Easterbrook when his guard was down, and there was no better way to do that than to knock unexpectedly on his front door.
But his plans went awry soon after he and Tash checked into their two-room suite and unpacked their bags. Stilwell looked up from his laptop after connecting to the hotel’s Wi-Fi and saw Tash pacing in the suite’s living room, arms folded tightly across her chest. It was a clear signal that this would not be a relaxing getaway for Tash and that she might have been more traumatized by the events of the weekend than she had let on. Stilwell knew that was on him. It was his relationship with her that had drawn her into Oscar Terranova’s crosshairs.
“Do you think you want to talk to somebody while we’re over here?” he asked.