Bringing Adam Home - Les Standiford [81]
On June 26, 1991, the Miami Herald ran an article on the retirement of Major J. B. Smith of the Hollywood Police Department. Smith had been a cop at the agency for twenty-one years, the story noted, and was a sergeant in the robbery and homicide unit, assisting in the investigation of the disappearance and murder of Adam Walsh in 1981.
Smith spoke to the writer at some length about the still-unsolved case, adding, “Ottis Toole was probably the most complete investigation we’ve ever done to prove somebody didn’t do it.”
If the department had in fact unearthed any evidence to prove that Ottis Toole had not committed the crime, he did not share it, and the reporter—who apparently was content to believe that Toole had been “proven” innocent—did not inquire further. One person was dumbfounded by J. B. Smith’s comments, however.
In Hollywood, Bill Mistler read, then carefully reread the story, just to be sure he understood correctly. Back in 1983, when Ottis Toole was identified as the prime suspect in the abduction and murder of Adam Walsh, Mistler had wavered about coming forward to tell police what he had seen outside the Hollywood Sears store that day. But from the tenor of the stories he read at the time of the announcement, Mistler assumed that his testimony was unnecessary. Furthermore, until he read Detective Smith’s comments that day in 1991, he thought that Ottis Toole had been charged and that the matter had been concluded.
Mistler, who’d been carrying a burden of guilt for almost ten years, got up from his chair and went into the kitchen where his wife was fixing dinner. Did she know that Ottis Toole had never been charged with the murder of Adam Walsh? he asked, brandishing the newspaper. She didn’t, she told him, then listened as he recapped the details of what he’d read.
“What do you think I ought to do?” Mistler asked his wife when he’d finished.
She couldn’t tell him what to do, she answered. But did he remember how scared they’d been the day their own son had wandered off for half an hour during a camping excursion?
Mistler remembered very well how he felt, and the recollections were enough to send him finally to the telephone, where he did what he’d been meaning to do for a long, long time. When he finally got through to Hollywood PD, an operator transferred him to Jack Hoffman, still the lead detective on the case. Mistler told Hoffman who he was, and then gave a brief account of what he had seen in the parking lot outside the Sears store that day. “I’m telling you, I saw Ottis Toole kidnap Adam Walsh,” he said.
Hoffman waited for Mistler to finish, then thanked him for the call. It had been ten years since the incident, and here was some guy out of nowhere claiming he’d seen it all? Hoffman explained that he was a little busy right now, getting ready to go on vacation. If Mistler didn’t mind, why not get back to him in a couple of weeks, and they’d take it up again?
Mistler, who’d just battled past any number of fears and uncertainties to make the call, stared at the phone in disbelief as Hoffman hung up. The detective hadn’t even asked for his phone number or his address. He wasn’t even sure the guy had caught his name.
Still, Mistler had made up his mind. He’d felt better about himself from the moment he’d picked up the phone and began to dial the police. And so, at about noon on Monday, July 22, Mistler called again. “I’m the guy who saw Ottis Toole take Adam Walsh from the curb outside the Sears store that day and put him inside a car,” Mistler reminded Hoffman. He’d had no reason to believe he was witnessing a kidnapping at the time, for the child showed no signs of resistance or alarm. He simply assumed it was a family member taking the child home.
Mistler also explained to Hoffman that in 1983, when Hollywood PD announced that Toole was the chief suspect, he believed that Toole had in fact been charged with the crime and that the matter had been dispensed with. It was not until he stumbled upon the article concerning Major Smith’s retirement, Mistler said, that he’d realized