Detective (68 page)

574 Arthur Halley

and Bowe carefully, though without
hostility, it becoming quickly
evident that Internal Affairs had
been informed, before the of ricers'
departure, of the grand jury
indictments and arrest warrant for
Cynthia Ernst.

The Police Department, itself
scrambling for information, declined
immediate comment on the shooting
death of City Commissioner Ernst,
but promised total disclosure at a
news conference at 6:00 P.M. that day,
which the chief of police would
attend.

Meanwhile the chief sent messages
to the mayor and city commissioners
that he would telephone each of them
personally during the hour before
the news conference, to report the
latest information. It would have
been more convenient to have a
special briefing in his office, but
under Florida's "sunshine law,"
commission members could not meet
together in any place without the
media or public being informed and
admitted.

From the "shoot team"
interrogation, Ainslie and Bowe
moved onward to a private accounting
in Assistant Chief Serrano's
office behind closed doors, and
before Serrano and Majors Figueras
and Yanes. During all the question-
ing, Ainslie and Bowe told no lies,
but nor, it seemed, were overly
probing questions asked in
particular, how did Ainslie and Ruby
become briefly separated at City
Hall? Instinct told Ainslie that,
justly or otherwise, ranks were
closing, with the Police Department
maneuvering to protect its own. He
wondered, too: Was there, among the
five, an uneasy memory of Yanes's
covert words concerning Cynthia,
spoken in this same room barely an
hour before: She could do the decent
thing and swallow a bullet. Save
everyone a potful of trouble. Did
they now share a feeling of guilt
that no one had protested? And was
there an instinct that if probing
became too intensive and specific,

DETECTIVE 575

something they would prefer not to
hear would be divulged?

Those were questions, Ainslie knew,
that would never be answered.

In the end, what would become the
essential police retelling was
summarized in a handwritten note by
Serrano, to be rewritten and
enlarged on as an official
statement:

Acting with authority derived from three grand jury

indictments, two of Ricers Sergeant Malcolm Ainslie and
Detective Ruby Rowe attempted to arrest Commissioner Cynthia
Ernst After the prisoner was apparently disarmed, with the
gun she was known to own taken from her, and before being
handcuffed, she suddenly produced a small concealed
pistol which she was about to fire at Sergeant Ainslie when
Detective Rowe, using her own police weapon, shot and killed
the prisoner.

Those facts were upheld, soon
after, by the uniformed officers,
Braynen and his partner, who,
immediately after the shooting,
responded to a radio summons from
Ainslie and were on the scene in
seconds.

Only in a quiet moment later did
Ainslie and Ruby talk about what had
happened.

"After a few minutes of waiting, I
got antsy," Ruby explained. "Just as
well, wasn't it?"

Ainslie grasped her shoulders with
both hands and met Ruby's eyes. "I
owe you my life," he told her.
"Whatever you need from me, you only
have to ask."

"If I think of something," she said
with a half-smile, "I'll tell you.
But a lot of it was self-interest.
Working in Homicide wouldn't be the
same without you. You've

576 Arthur Halley

taught all of us so much, set great
examples. I hope I'm not
embarrassing you."

Ainslie shrugged self-consciously.
"A little, I guess." Then he added
carefully, "Working with you, Ruby,
has been a privilege for me." This
was not the moment, he decided, to
reveal his decision to leave
Homicide and perhaps the Police
Department. For the time being he
would keep that knowledge between
Karen and himself.

Preparations for the news conference
were made at breakneck speed as
lengthy phone calls flew between the
Police Department and the state
attorney's office. Together they
decided that all relevant facts
concerning Cynthia Ernst would be
disclosed: the three grand jury
indictments; Eleanor Ernst's
diaries; Cynthia's early abuse at
the hands of her father; the
pregnancy; Cynthia's plot to have
her parents killed; even the fact
that crucial evidence concerning
another double murder that Cynthia
concealed had sat unexamined for a
year and a half in the police
Property Department. Finally there
would be Cynthia's failure to
divulge her knowledge of the
wheelchair murderer.

As Assistant Chief Serrano
expressed it, after consulting with
the chief and the Department's
public information officer, Evelio
Jimenez, "It's one monstrous mess,
and no one will come out smelling
sweet. There could be pmblems,
though, if anything's held back and
then ferreted out by some smart
reporter."

Only certain evidence, which might
be needed for the trials of Patrick
Jensen and Virgilio, would remain
temporarily undisclosed. Jensen's
arrest, and the charges against him,
had now become known.

As for Virgilio, there was doubt
about whether he would ever be
caught and tried. Metm-Dade
Homicide, on learn

DETECTIVE 577

ing of his participation in the
wheelchair murder, had begun a
search for him, as had Miami
Homicide, because of his reported
slayings of the Ernsts. But Virgilio
had fled to his native Colombia,
from where extradition was unlikely
because of the mutual hostility
between that country and the United
States.

The news conference was held in the
lobby of Police Headquarters, entry
being controlled by several police
officers near the main doorway,
where credentials were examined. A
podium and microphones were set up
near the main-floor elevators.
There, Evelio Jimenez, the public
information officer a former
newspaper reporter with a frank,
no-nonsense attitude would be in
charge.

Only minutes before the crowded
conference began, city commission
members, all of whom had already
spoken with the chief, filed into
the lobby, their expressions ranging
from shock to grief. The media
closed in on them, but no one
responded to questions. When a
microphone was thrust in the face of
the mayor, he snapped uncharacter-
istically, "Take that away! Just
listen to what they'll tell you."

TV cameras were rolling,
microphones lined up like bean
sprouts, and pencils and laptop
computers were poised as the PIO
announced, "Chief Farrell Ketledge."

The chief of police stepped
forward. He spoke solemnly, though
he wasted no time in coming to the
point.

"Without any doubt, this is the
saddest day in my entire police
career. I considered Cynthia Ernst
to be a loyal colleague and good
friend, and shall remember her, in
part, that way, despite the crimes
and horror that are now exposed. For
as you will shortly hear in detail,
Miss Ernst

578 Arthur Halley

was a criminal, guilty, among other
things, of the terrible murders of
her parents. . ."

A collective gasp filled the hall.
Simultaneously, several reporters
rose hastily and left, heading for
TV vans outside; others spoke into
cellular phones.

The chief continued, mentioning
the two murders Cynthia had helped
to conceal while a Homicide
detective. He then stated, "Earlier
today, three grand jury indictments
were issued for her arrest. It was
during that arrest that Miss Ernst
suddenly produced a concealed
weapon, which she clearly intended
to use on one of the arresting
officers. The other officer fired a
single shot, instantly killing Miss
Ernst.

"We will, if you wish, talk more
about that later, but for now I want
to deal with today's events,
beginning with the grand jury
indictments directed at Cynthia
Ernst. So I will ask Mr. Curzon
Knowles, head of the state
attorney's Homicide division, to
describe those indictments and the
evidence behind them."

Knowles, dressed more formally
than usual in a blue pinstriped
suit, moved to the podium and spoke
authoritatively for ten minutes,
relating most of the facts presented
to the grand jury. Many in the
audience looked up from their notes
and listened intently as he
described Eleanor Ernst's diaries
and the details of child abuse. "I
understand," Knowles continued,
"that significant pages of those
diaries are being copied now and
will be available soon." A few
questions were asked of Knowles, but
none were aggressive. Most of the
reporters seemed stunned at what was
being revealed; there was a sense
that plain words and frankness were
the order of the day.

When Knowles concluded, Serrano
took over. The assistant chief
introduced Leo Newbold, who spoke
briefly, then Malcolm Ainslie, who
described the murders of Gus

DETECTIVE 579

tav and Eleanor Ernst and the
attempt to make them look like
earlier serial killings. It quickly
became evident that Ainslie had a
grasp of the entire complex scene,
and for a half hour he responded
clearly and confidently to
reporters' quenes.

He was tiring, though, when a woman
TV reporter asked, "We were told
earlier . . ." She paused,
consulting her notes. ". . . told by
Lieutenant Newbold that you were the
first one who believed the Ernst
murders were nor part of those
earlier serials. Why did you have
that first impression?"

He responded impulsively, "Because
there's no rabbit in Revelation,"
then regretted the words the moment
they were out.

After a puzzled silence the same
woman asked, "Will you explain
that?"

Ainslie glanced at Deputy Chief
Serrano, who shrugged and told the
journalists, "We have talented
people here who sometimes solve
crimes in unusual ways." Then, to
Ainslie: "Go ahead, tell them."

Reluctantly, Ainslie began, "It
goes back to symbols left by a
perpetrator at four murder scenes
and eventually recognized
as-religious symbols inspired by the
Book of Revelation in the Bible. At
the Ernst murders a rabbit was left.
It didn't fit the pattern."

While continuing to describe the
earlier symbols, Ainslie remembered
that all of that information had
been held back from the media at the
time, and never released later
because there had been no need. In
the end Elroy Doll was tried,
sentenced, and executed for the
Tempones' murder only, where no
symbol was involved.

Thus, this information was new, and
also fascinating, judging by the
number of reporters who, with heads
down, were scribbling notes or
typing on laptops.

580 Arthur Halley

As Ainslie concluded, a male voice
asked, "Who figured out what those
symbols meant?"

"I'll answer that," Serrano said.
"It was Sergeant Ainslie who made
the connection, and it led to
several suspects, one of whom was
Elroy Doil."

A veteran print reporter asked,
"Is it true, Sergeant Ainslie, that
you were once a priest? Is that how
you know your way around the Bible?"

It was a subject Ainslie had hoped
would not come up. While he had made
no great secret of his past, few
outside the Department knew of it.
Anyway, he answered, "Yes, I was, so
in that regard it helped."

Next a woman's voice. "Why did you
stop being a priest and become a
cop?"

"Leaving the priesthood was my
personal choice, freely made. The
reasons were private and not
relevant here, so I won't discuss
them." He smiled. "For the record,
I left behind no misbehavior; my
acceptance as a police officer
should vouch for that." Despite the
overlay of seriousness, there was
some good-natured laughter.

Soon after, with many reporters
eager to get going, the formal news
conference broke up, though some
reporters and TV crews stayed on,
doing one-on-one interviews in both
English and Spanish. Ainslie
especially was in demand and
remained an extra forty minutes.
Even then, reporters followed him to
his car, still filming and asking
questions.

That same evening, and during the
days that followed, Malcolm Ainslie
was a prominent figure on television
as his statements were featured,
then repeated, interlaced with new
developments. National network news
reports carried the Cynthia Ernst
story, with most depicting Ainslie
as

DETECTIVE 581

police spokesman. ABC's "Nightline"
reported at length the mysterious
murder-scene symbols and their
biblical interpretation, once more
with Ainslie as the star.

The print press covered the Ernst
stories, too, showing interest in
Ainslie's former priesthood. One
probing reporter found a record of
his doctoral degree and reputation
as a scholar, mentioning Ainslie's
joint authorship of Civilization's
Evolving Beliefs, and that, too, was
repeated around the country. His
name appeared prominently in
Newsweek and Time reports, and the
national Sunday newspaper magazine,
Parade, ran a cover story with the
headline SCHOLARLY EX-PRIEST DETECTIVE LAUDED AS
CR~dE-SOLVING STAR.

The switchboard at Miami Police
Headquarters received many calls
from inquiring film and TV
producers, all of it defying
Assistant Chief Serrano's prediction
that no one would emerge from the
Ernst debacle smelling sweet. Quite
clearly, Ainslie did.

"I really wish all this would
stop," Ainslie confided to Leo
Newbold.

"The way I hear, the guys up above
us have the same feeling," Newbold
replied.

Whatever their unease, everyone in
authority was clearly relieved that
there would be no harrowing trial of
Cynthia Ernst.