Because You Loved Me. M. William Phelps
walks, raising Jeanne’s two kids, saying good-bye at work, discussing soda and pizza and chips, the kids—and now she was gone. How quickly life can be interrupted by tragedy.
When one of the detectives came back into the room, Chris was asked, “When was the last time you saw Ms. Dominico?”
He took a swallow from the cup of water in front of him.
“Geez…it was at work. We work together at the same company.”
“She say anything to you about meeting anyone tonight?” The detective wrote something down on a notepad he had in his hand.
Chris ran one of his hands through his hair, took a long breath.
“No. Not that I know of. We had plans to meet up at the house. I was staying there this week. She was supposed to pick up a pizza, go home…and meet up with the—”
“How?” the detective interrupted.
“—the kids. Where are the kids? I need to find the kids.” Chris became nervous, suddenly worried. “I need to tell them before they find out some other way.” It had been on his mind the past few hours: how was he going to explain to Drew and Nicole what had happened to their mother?
“No, don’t worry about the kids. We’re working on locating them.”
“I gotta tell them.” Then, speaking more to himself than the detective, “Where are they gonna go? What are they gonna do now?”
Chris shook his head and began crying.
The Criminal Investigation Division (CID) of the NPD consisted of thirteen members on the day they began investigating Jeanne Dominico’s death. It was one of five divisions within the NPD’s Detective Bureau. Comprised of one lieutenant, two sergeants and ten detectives, the CID’s primary function, according to official policy, is to “further the investigation into all felony level crimes committed by adult offenders that occur within the City of Nashua.”
Among a city housing some ninety thousand residents, a larger population, incidentally, than a majority of the nation’s cities, the NPD’s headquarters at Zero Panther Drive, near downtown, a modernized redbrick building, is up to date with all the latest investigative techniques, procedures and practices. Capable of investigating “all levels of crime,” the NPD stands in a relatively small class of police departments statewide that can boast of such diligent street-level crime-fighting strategies and crime scene investigation tactics. Homicide, kidnapping, violent assaults, sexual assaults, burglaries, thefts and corruption of all types generally encompass most of what the NPD prides itself on. Quite interestingly, the NPD Uniform Field Operations Bureau is considered its “most prominent,” simply because it is “called into action” and acts, mainly, as an initial response team the moment a major crime is reported.
“The officer at the scene will conduct a preliminary investigation into the incident,” says official procedure, “documenting the facts as he learns them,” before forwarding a report to the attention of the Detective Bureau. “On occasion, based upon the seriousness of the offense, detectives may be called to the scene of the crime immediately after members of the Uniform Bureau have arrived and assessed the situation.”
The NPD homicide investigating team is a tight-knit group of cops, whose primary focus is to be ready and willing to conduct any type of investigation required in order to solve a crime as quickly as possible. The safety of the residents of Nashua is the NPD’s number one concern, obviously. This is one of the reasons why the response at Jeanne Dominico’s house once Chris McGowan called 911 on the night of August 6, 2003, was so thorough and quick: in theory, like many of the police departments throughout the state of New Hampshire, members of the NPD were waiting for the call, ready to take action the moment a violent crime had taken place.
What detectives from the NPD’s CID unit knew as the night moved forward and the investigation progressed was that violence was not an intense enough word to explain what had happened inside Jeanne’s kitchen. In fact, Jeanne hadn’t fallen from her countertop and split her head open, as most everyone now knew, nor had she gotten into a scuffle with a burglar, as many may have believed early on. Detectives knew immediately upon entering Jeanne’s home that she had been beaten savagely with some sort of blunt, solid object, and stabbed repeatedly with, authorities knew, two different knives. Some early estimates, as crime scene investigators worked the scene—taking videotape and photographs, collecting fingerprints, shoe prints and other evidence, and reported back to detectives—was that Jeanne had been stabbed approximately forty, or maybe even fifty, times. She had wounds to her face, neck, head, throat, along with what looked to be defensive wounds on her hands. Moreover, investigators uncovered a broken knife handle inside Jeanne’s kitchen sink; its blade on the floor nearby.
This was no random act—Jeanne’s murderer was angry. Detectives knew right away there was a personal connection.
From those early moments, it appeared detectives had some key pieces of evidence to go on, yet no viable suspect. Then, at 9:13 P.M., while searching Jeanne’s backyard, one of the investigating officers found something.
“Over here.”
Detective Denis Linehan and his boss, Detective Sergeant Richard Sprankle, had been at the scene for a little over an hour. When they heard the officer call out, both walked over to see what he had found.
CHAPTER 18
The questions detectives posed to Jeanne Dominico’s exhausted fiancé, Chris McGowan, didn’t much bother him as he sat sipping stale water from a Styrofoam cup, wondering how the love of his life had died in such a tragic manner. Chris wanted to help any way he could. Still, Why all the questions, he thought as he sat and stared back at the detective, if Jeanne had died of an accident? What is going on here?
“I knew then,” recalled Chris, “that Jeanne hadn’t fallen. I had my suspicions back at the house, but there was so much going on, I didn’t have time to think about it.”
Throughout the night, the conversation—and Chris viewed it as nothing more than a relaxed interview—turned back to the kids. Where were Nicole and Drew? Detectives wanted to know if Chris could reach them. A cell phone number? A neighbor who might know where they were?
“I don’t know…I have to find them, though.”
“You have no idea where they are right now?”
“No. Nicole called me earlier and left a message that she and ‘her friend’ were out doing their stuff. I think they went bowling, shopping. I just don’t know where.”
Chris then explained that Nicole’s “friend” was a boy named Billy Sullivan she had been dating. They had been together all week. He told detectives he would gladly play back Nicole’s voice mail from earlier that night, if only he had his cell phone.
“I left my phone on the kitchen table at Jeannie’s.”
“OK. That’s fine. We can’t get your cell phone right now.”
From memory, Chris recalled Billy’s number.
“I’m not sure if it’s right, because I have it in my cell phone on speed dial.”
“That’ll do.”
Both detectives walked out of the room—and so it went like that throughout the next few hours: detectives walked in and asked a few questions, then left the room for a while, only to return again wanting to know more.
“Did Jeanne have any enemies?” began the next set of questions. It didn’t come across as pushy, or desperate, Chris remembered, but it still seemed like an odd thing to ask. For the first time, without anyone telling him specifically, Chris said he knew Jeanne had been murdered.
Why else would they be asking me such a thing?
“No. Absolutely not! The last person on this earth to have an enemy would be Jeanne.” Yet, as quick as the words fell off his tongue, Chris thought of Jeanne’s ex-husband, Anthony. “That