‘No, never,’ Cohen replied, addressing both detectives. ‘But from reputation, we all know who you are.’
Hunter and Garcia did know about their reputation. Inside the police headquarters and throughout the entire police department, many referred to the Ultra Violent Crimes Unit as the ‘Hell-No Unit’ – the only detective unit inside the LAPD that no detective wanted to join.
‘Please, have a seat.’ Cohen indicated the two chairs squashed between the floor partition and his desk, a desk that seemed too small for the mountain of folders and paperwork scattered all over it.
Hunter took the seat on the right, while Garcia had to reposition the chair on the left so that his legs could fit.
‘So how can I help?’ Cohen asked, sitting back on his chair. The movement almost made him disappear behind a pile of blue folders.
‘Terry Wilford,’ Garcia began, handing Cohen a printout of Terry’s portrait and a copy of the Missing Persons Report. ‘You were the lead detective on his MP investigation. He was reported missing just over two weeks ago – June 24th.’
Cohen looked at the portrait for just a second. ‘Yes of course, I remember this case.’ He pushed his glasses up on his bulbous nose. ‘But this case was closed just over a week ago. Mr. Wilford was never found, until he jumped to his death from the 7th Street Bridge on…’ He began typing something onto his keyboard.
‘July 1st,’ Garcia helped him.
Cohen’s attention moved from his screen to Garcia. ‘Yes, that’s correct – on the evening of July 1st. Apparently there weretwo witnesses to it.’ He returned both pieces of paper to Garcia. ‘Whatever reason he had to disappear seemed to have finally taken its toll on him.’ He shrugged as he nodded. ‘Unfortunately, missing-person suicides happen quite a lot.’
‘Could I ask you,’ Garcia said, taking back the documents, ‘how far did you get with the MP investigation? Any leads as to where he might’ve been, or gone? Anyone he might’ve been with?’
Cohen’s eyes returned to his computer screen for a moment before he shook his head. ‘Nothing. We got absolutely nowhere.’
‘No leads at all?’ Garcia pushed.
Cohen’s head angled slightly to the right. ‘We took every path available to us. Since Mr. Wilford only moved to LA five years ago, one of the first things we did was get in touch with Phoenix PD in Arizona for some help. As you know, that’s where he’s originally from, and since he still has friends and family back there, it stood to reason that he could’ve decided to take a trip back to Arizona without informing anyone.’ Cohen shook his head. ‘Phoenix PD got in touch with everyone they could. Apparently none of Mr. Wilford’s old friends have heard from him since he left Phoenix. His father passed a few years back, but his mother resides in a nursing home, paid for by her social security and a private pension scheme from a job she held for thirty-odd years. They tried talking to her, but they got nowhere. Mrs. Wilford suffers from late-stage dementia. She couldn’t even remember that she had a son.’
‘Did any of the staff at the nursing home know Mr. Wilford?’ Hunter asked. ‘Did he visit his mother often?’
‘They never met him,’ Cohen replied, his lips forming a thin line. ‘According to the nursing home records, he never visited her. Not even once.’
‘How about his kid, Joseph,’ Garcia, this time. ‘Does he still live back in Phoenix? Anybody talked to him?’
Cohen scrolled down on the page on his screen. ‘Oh yeah, nowI remember. No, he doesn’t. He now lives in Chandler, and he was a hard one to get in touch with.’
‘How so?’ Garcia prodded.
‘First of all, he doesn’t go by Joseph Thomas Wilford anymore. He dropped his father’s name and now uses his mother’s maiden name – Suarez.’
‘Joseph Thomas Suarez?’ Garcia asked.
Cohen half-nodded. ‘And he hates being called Joseph.’
‘So what is it? Joe?’ Garcia again.
‘Yep,’ Cohen confirmed. ‘Joe Thomas Suarez. That name change added at least a couple of days to the process of tracking him down. He had also relocated from Phoenix to Chandler around the same time that Mr. Wilford relocated here.’
‘Just after his mother passed?’
‘Yep.’
‘But he was sixteen at that time,’ Hunter commented. ‘Isn’t that right?’
‘Yep.’
Hunter and Garcia’s expression asked the same silent question.
‘I don’t really know the ins-and-outs of what happened,’ Cohen explained. ‘Not my place to ask, but one thing is for sure – Joe and his fatherdid notget along.’
‘Is that what he told you?’
