Читать книгу Every Move You Make - M. William Phelps - Страница 25

The second-floor interrogation room inside Bureau headquarters was part of a brick building that looked like an old grammar school. Inside the cream-colored room Lisa was being questioned in was one small window, which looked out across the street at Siena College. Horton kept the shades closed so witnesses and suspects couldn’t let their minds wander. The walls were painted a calming hue of vanilla for ambience and mood. Besides a plain metal table and a few chairs, the room sat empty. The mirror on the wall was two-way. There were hidden cameras set up around the room in case the Bureau wanted to videotape an interview.

When Lisa returned from the bathroom, she appeared rejuvenated, refreshed.

“All set now, Lisa?” Horton asked.

“I guess so,” she said, running her hands through her hair.

“Tell us about October third. You said you saw Gary that day?”

“He stayed at my apartment the night before. I got up about six or six-thirty in the morning,” she said as she sat down, “and Gary was already awake, sitting in the living room playing Nintendo. He left about eight and returned about noon. He said he was meeting up with his ‘partner’ at twelve-thirty.”

It made sense that Evans would have waited until 12:30 P.M. to meet Tim, because Tim didn’t get out of work until noon. And if there was any doubt that Evans’s partner wasn’t Tim Rysedorph, Lisa cleared it up by providing details she couldn’t have known if she didn’t see him. For one, she said she watched Evans leave her apartment and walk over to T.J. Maxx and meet someone who was driving a “light blue two-door car,” but had sometimes shown up on a dark-colored motorcycle.

Tim drove both.

Second, Lisa described Tim as if she were looking at a photo of him in front of her: “Same height as Gary, but his build was smaller…had darker hair and it was shoulder-length.” Then the clincher: “Gary complained about his partner’s wife all the time. He called her a ‘bitch.’ He told me his partner had a job as a garbageman, but was complaining he was always broke because of his wife.”

What interested Horton even more, however, was that Lisa said Evans was “afraid” of Tim because Tim had been cashing checks recently, and if they ever got caught, Evans said he feared Tim would “roll over” on him because he had never spent time in prison.

“Gary went south to Wappingers Falls on that Friday,” Lisa continued. “He was trying to sell some jewelry with Tim to a dealer he had dealt with before. When he came back later that day, he told me the dealer had tipped him off that the police had been at the shop in regard to some stolen property Gary had sold the guy in the past.” Without taking a breath, Lisa then said Evans seemed nervous that night for some reason, and mentioned how afraid he was of getting caught.

“What did he say, exactly?”

“He told me he had decided he needed to leave the area.”

“What happened throughout the day?”

“Gary left his truck in the parking lot of T.J. Maxx. About five or five-thirty, Gary and Tim returned to my apartment parking lot: Tim was driving his blue car, Gary his truck.”

“Did they come up?”

She said only Evans came inside. “You need to go into the bedroom,” he said in a rush of words as he walked in. “Me and my partner have to change clothes.”

So Lisa locked herself in her bedroom and waited. As she paced inside her bedroom, wondering what was happening, she glanced out the window. Evans’s truck had been parked below. She had a clear view.

She then watched as Evans grabbed some clothes out of the back of his truck and walked over to Tim’s car, sat down in the passenger seat and began talking. Tim, Lisa remembered with meticulous detail, looked like he was disagreeing with whatever Evans was telling him because he began to shake his head, indicating no.

Evans, who was raging mad by that point, then got out of the car and walked over to the driver’s side, where he began to pull Tim out of the car by his hair.

Tim resisted at first, but then got out.

Then Evans walked back up to the apartment and told Lisa his plans had changed. “We have to go do something,” he said.

“Where were they going?” Horton asked, amazed by how much Lisa knew, and the detail in which she remembered it.

“Gary didn’t say. I didn’t ask.”

Evans left her apartment at around 6:30 P.M. in Tim’s car, she said, but left his truck in the parking lot.

It made sense—because Tim’s car had been found at the Amtrak depot in Rensselaer.

A few hours after that, Evans called Lisa and told her that he’d had “major problems” with his “partner down south,” meaning south of Albany. Lisa said she then, under Evans’s direction, got into his truck, dropped Christina off at her grandmother’s house, drove back to her apartment and waited for Evans to call back. It was about 8:00 P.M. when she returned.

Evans ended up calling at 9:00. “I might need you to pick me up in Troy later tonight,” he said.

“Okay…”

“Don’t turn off the ringer and don’t screen any calls,” he added. Then, “Answer the fucking phone if it rings. You understand?”

“Yes, Gary.”

She said Evans never called back.

Many of the times Lisa provided during her interview were later verified, as closely as they could be, with phone records taken from Caroline Parker’s home phone and Evans’s cell phone. Horton had no reason to believe Lisa was making any of it up. It was all too detailed and time-sensitive. After all, Lisa had no idea what Horton knew. There was no way she could have coordinated a sequence of events to coincide with the times in question the Bureau had already nailed down.

What Lisa was about to say next, however, would give Horton a better indication as to what happened to Tim Rysedorph and, more important, when and where.