No One Can Hurt Him Anymore. Scott Cupp

No One Can Hurt Him Anymore - Scott Cupp


Скачать книгу
to gather additional information about the Schwarz family.

      There he interviewed Ida Falk, who told him that she and her family had lived on Triphammer Road for about 2½ years. Her thirteen-year-old daughter, Jamie, had talked to Detective Restivo on Sunday. Ida Falk had seen A.J. early every Thursday morning collecting aluminum cans from the neighborhood recycling bins. She believed Jessica Schwarz had been court ordered to perform community service and that one part of that community service was collecting aluminum cans. A.J. was made to gather them to assist his stepmother, she thought.

      She heard Jessica swearing at A.J. on a daily basis. Even though she couldn’t recall the exact words that were used, she said they were “dirty and vulgar.” Also, Jessica was “always” referring to A.J. as stupid.

      About a year earlier, she had seen A.J. in the front yard—for an hour or two—with his mouth taped shut. She, too, had seen him edging the lawn with regular household scissors.

      Mrs. Falk told the detective that two or three months earlier her husband, Jarrell, had seen A.J. walking to school in the rain. Mr. Falk had slowed down to pick him up, but when he glanced in his rearview mirror, he saw that Jessica was right behind him. Assuming that she would pick the boy up, he continued on down the road. However, Jessica did not pick him up; she just passed him by.

      After talking with Mrs. Falk, Detective Calloway spoke with her son, Troy, a fifth-grade student at Indian Pines Elementary School. Troy told the detective that, not long after they moved to Triphammer Road, he started going over to A.J.’s house to see if he could play—but most of the time, he was grounded and wasn’t allowed. On one occasion, he saw A.J. with “brownish” tape over his mouth. Jessica had explained to Troy that A.J. was “being bad.”

      More recently—a month or so earlier—he had seen A.J. running down Triphammer Road naked.

      At the house next door to the Schwarz home, Ron Pincus Jr. repeated the story to Detective Calloway that he had told Detective Restivo on Sunday: When he arrived home from work—about 1:30 in the morning—he had seen A.J. walking his dog. A.J. had asked him what he doing home so late. Pincus was tired and simply replied, “I have to get to bed.” The boy told him good night and Pincus continued up the walk. He glanced over at the Schwarz house and noticed that the blinds were up in the living room and the lights and television were on.

      About two weeks before that, he had seen A.J. edging his yard with scissors. Pincus said he felt sorry for him, so he went over and edged the Schwarz yard with his own edger. While he was there, he heard Jessica tell A.J. that he had a new nickname—“Jeffrey Dahmer.” For the last two weeks of the young boy’s life, that was what his stepmother called him.

      He had seen A.J. swim on several occasions, but he was not allowed while the girls were swimming. A.J. was only allowed to go into the pool to clean it—before the girls got in—so they could have a clean pool to swim in.

      Jessica had told Pincus a few weeks earlier that she hated A.J.—that she had always hated him. And that she could never bring herself to love him.

      After the detective left, Pincus thought about how he had come home from work that previous Saturday night, bone-tired and looking forward to bed, and had been startled when he heard a rustling in the bushes next door. When he saw A.J. holding a leash, he realized that the noise he heard was the dog nosing around in the shrubbery.

      A.J. seemed to want to talk, but Pincus was just too tired for chitchat.

      Calloway then went to interview another neighbor whom Detective Restivo had talked to on Sunday—Eileen Callahan. She had only lived on Triphammer Road for about a year, but she had seen and heard a lot. She was a stay-at-home mom with three children and lived across the street and one house up from the Schwarzes.

      Callahan’s pregnancy with her third child had been a difficult one and she had spent much time resting on her living-room couch. From that location in her home, she couldn’t help but notice the strange and bizarre behavior of her loud and obnoxious neighbor. She also witnessed the special wrath that Jessica seemed to have for her stepson.

      Unfortunately for Eileen—and what she wouldn’t find out for quite some time—was that her first name, though spelled differently, was the same as A.J.’s biological mother—Ilene. That fateful coincidence eventually caused her untold anguish, fear, and unwanted attention.

      Not long after she and her family moved to Triphammer Road, Callahan had seen A.J.—on his hands and knees in the rain—edging the grass with a pair of scissors.

      In October 1992, she had heard Jessica tell A.J. that she was “taking Halloween away from him,” and asked him if he wanted her to take Christmas away too. And—in fact—Callahan had seen him cleaning out the garage on Christmas Day.

      She had become so concerned about A.J. not being in school on Thursdays—due to the fact that he was collecting aluminum cans, and then later crushing them in his driveway—that Callahan had called Child Protective Services to report it. She claimed that she was “put off ” and told to call Indian Pines Elementary School—which she did. An employee at the school told her that they were aware of A.J.’s absenteeism.

      About a month before his death, A.J. had told Eileen’s husband, Rich, that he had to do chores from the time he woke up in the morning until the time he went to bed. And that his stepmother punished him by not allowing him to go to school.

      In January 1993, when she saw A.J.’s black eyes and bruised nose, Eileen had seen enough. She called Florida’s hot line, which had been set up for the public to report children who are known to be—or suspected to be—abused, neglected, or abandoned. As the public-service announcements promised, she called anonymously.

      Well, not quite—she gave her first name, Eileen.

      HRS protective investigator Barbara Black was assigned to the call and—as per local protocol—she called the sheriff ’s office to have them assign a detective from CAC to accompany her.

      She and Chris Calloway went to the house on Triphammer Road and the detective spoke with A.J. The young boy adamantly maintained that he had fallen against the handlebars of his sister’s bicycle as he was walking it into the garage to put it away.

      Black detailed A.J.’s denial—and Jessica’s ranting—in her report, including Jessica’s complaint that she had had at least five abuse complaints against her and that she’d “had enough.”

      Jessica went on and on to Black about how the neighbors hated her and that Ilene was always calling in complaints against her and harassing her.

      Barbara Black closed the investigation the same day she started it. Considering the information she apparently based her decision on, it is impossible to overstate how incredibly tragic her decision turned out to be. She placed a call to Joan Wyllner, A.J.’s protective supervision worker. It was Wyllner’s responsibility to monitor A.J.’s placement in the Schwarz home. One must keep in mind, while reading the report, however, that Eileen Callahan left only her first name when placing the call to the hot line.

      “Worker Joan Wyllner said she does not feel [Jessica] would hurt the child and fail to get medical care. She is very attentive to the child’s medical needs. She had asked Broward [County] about closing the case last week. Joan feels natural mom (Ilene) somehow knows that this was asked. She always seems to throw a monkey wrench in when things go smooth.

      “Joan saw the child January 4, 1993. No problems noted. (Joan did not wish to accompany this [protective investigator] and detective to the residence.)”

      It appeared—even though the phone conversation with Joan Wyllner was put near the end of the narrative—that Black spoke to her prior to going to the scene.

      As if that weren’t tragic enough, what Eileen Callahan reported to Calloway left Scott Cupp truly speechless and incredibly sad. As he looked back, the overwhelming sense of hopelessness—of being trapped—that A.J. must have felt became clear to him.

      Detective Calloway informed Eileen Callahan that he had been the one who had accompanied the woman from HRS to investigate


Скачать книгу