At the Aurora Police Station Jail

At the front counter I asked the police officer if I could pick up Jeff's belongings.  I gave my name, relation to the deceased, etc.  The officer told me to wait a moment.  Jerry Williams, the Police Chief in 1988 came to the counter and said, "If you want your husband's things, then you're going to have to get a lawyer." 
     "Why do I need a lawyer?  All I want are his clothes and wallet." 
     "I'm sorry, but we can't release them to you."  I was stunned and needed to understand why Jeff's belongings were being retained by the police.  I spoke up and said, "I am here to see the cell my husband died in, also."  Now, the Police Chief appeared stunned.  He left and many minutes later Dean Axtell, the Public Relations Representative appeared.

We went into the circle of holding cells, where I had been told Jeff had been and where he had died.  Then, through heavy metal doors, stairs, and more metal doors. We arrived at a cell that was mid-way among others in a long line.  Axtell opened the cell door.

Jeff's blue-black boot prints were all over the wall.  There was a short noose hanging from the iron mesh at the top of the cell door.  I wondered how, logistically, it was feasible that Jeff's butt could have been planted on the cell floor. The noose was not near long enough.  Yet,the story Axtell and Williams told me on the evening of Jeff's death was a different one.  My friends, Bill and Thomas witnessed the cell along with me.  I had them look closely at the cell walls, "Look at these boot scuffs.  These are from Jeff's boots.  I've been wiping those scuff marks up from my kitchen floor everyday."  I turned to Axtell, "I need a camera.  You need to get me a camera.  Can you go get one?"
     "I don't think we have one. No."
     "This is a police station.  Surely one of your detectives or someone has a camera."
     "No.  Not that I know of."  Why do you want one?"
     "Because you said my husband was very calm.  You said he was given a chair.  You said he was polite and friendly.  These are his boot marks and when my husband is angry he kicks everything.  These scuff marks tell me he kicked the walls!  Look! He wasn't calm.  What really happened?" Axtell looked dumbfounded. 
     "You know, we never thought of that."