Look Closely - Laura Caldwell [77]
I kept reading Chief Manning’s notes until I found one that stopped me—“Interview with Hailey Sutter, daughter, age 7, May 24.” I took a sip of my coffee. I crumbled some of the scone between my fingers. Finally, I thumbed back through the rest of the documents until I found the typed report. Manning wrote:
Hailey Sutter is a seven year old Caucasian female. She appeared with her father and John Matchman, a criminal lawyer with Mr. Sutter’s law firm in Chicago. She was cooperative and forthcoming with her answers and speaks in the manner of a child her age. However, she had little, if any, recollection of the night in question, except to say that her mother just slipped and fell down the stairs. She recalls events from earlier that day in detail, including attending riding lessons with a friend named Patsy. (Her father volunteered that this child is Patricia Nawden, also of Woodland Dunes). She also remembers that the Sutter housekeeper, Della Castaneda, retrieved her and Patsy from the stable and drove Patsy home, and then transported Hai ley to the Sutter house. She could not identify the time (confirm this with Ms. Castaneda). Hailey could also recall Ms. Castaneda preparing a snack when they arrived home. She then states that she played in her room for the next few hours. The child insists that she recalls nothing after this point, except when asked what happened to her mother, she states simply, “Mama fell down the stairs,” and “She just slipped,” but could not elaborate any further. She does not yet seem to grasp that her mother is gone, but this is not uncommon in deaths of parents of young children.
And that was it. Nothing more. Nothing illuminating really. Just a little recollection about riding with Patsy and a statement that my mother had fallen.
I set the records on the table and took a bite of my scone, not really tasting it. I felt disappointed somehow. It was odd that I would have remembered so little, especially if I’d been with my mom when she died. Had I been a good liar, trained already by my father to tell falsities to cover for the family? The thought was repugnant, but there it was, and after the half truths I discovered lately on my father’s behalf, it seemed horribly plausible.
The crowd going in and out of the coffee shop had increased. There was too much traffic around my table now to be relaxing, but I was determined to get through the rest of the records. I pushed the scone away and began skimming the notes and other interviews, looking for anything of importance. It seemed that Manning had canvased the community, asking for any information on the identity of Mrs. Sutter’s male friend. A few people claimed to have seen Leah on the beach with a dark haired man, but no one knew his name. One of the witnesses suggested that it “must have been a summer person.”
I continued skimming Chief Manning’s notes. Near the end, he wrote, Mr. William Sutter called in for additional interrogation. May 31.
I scrambled until I found the typed summary of the second interview with my father. It was brief.
William Sutter presents the same as the last time interviewed. That is to say he is an attractive, well-dressed gentleman who appears distraught by his estranged wife’s death. Mr. Sutter reiterates that a fall was the cause of death and not any domestic abuse on the part of himself or his son. Mr. Sutter continues to disavow any knowledge of the identity of his wife’s companion. The witness appears credible in his assertions. This interviewer is inclined to close this case in order to bring an end to the suffering Leah Sutter’s death has caused this family and the community.
I read it over once more. Strange how short it was and how abruptly Manning had decided to believe my father. It also seemed peculiar that he would refer to suffering on the part of the Sutters or the community. Wasn’t it the job of the police to find who had caused the pain, not just to sweep a case under the rug so it couldn’t show its ugliness anymore? Maybe I was expecting too much. When I