The Man from Saskatchewan
By Leroy B Vaughn
What happens when the author is a deputy sheriff assigned as the juvenile officer for the Riverside County Sheriff’s Department in Indio, California?
It was in late 1980 or early 1981. I was a deputy sheriff assigned as the juvenile officer for the Riverside County Sheriff’s Department in Indio, California.
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Our secretary had her desk in front of my office and the probation officer’s office. I heard her answer the phone and say, “Yes sir, let me ring his number for you.” The phone rang and I picked it up and introduced myself.
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The man on the other end was a constable from Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, Canada. He explained that he had a very sensitive case and wanted to know if I could check something out for him.
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He told me that a Canadian politician named Wilbert Colin Thatcher, known as Colin Thatcher, had taken his son against the wishes of his estranged wife, and may possibly be somewhere near Palm Springs living under an assumed name.
He stated that this case was politically sensitive because Thatcher’s father had been the premier of Saskatchewan from 1964 through 1971.
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I said I would see what I could do, and I asked him to fax me photos and physical descriptions of Thatcher and his son. After all these years I can’t remember the name of the son. Within twenty minutes the information I had asked for came off the fax machine. I picked it up and went to the lieutenant’s office.
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The lieutenant appeared to be annoyed when I knocked on his door. I think he assumed that anytime I showed up he would have to actually do some work. I told him about the Canadian constable and his request for help.
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He told me to see what I could find out but asked me to try to avoid any type of international incident if I could find this Thatcher. I told him I would keep him posted as I headed for the briefing room.
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The afternoon shift was finishing their briefing when I asked the sergeant if I could have a minute with his squad. I passed the photos of Thatcher and his son around and asked the deputies that worked what we called the west end of our area to let me know if anyone saw these two. I figured it was a long shot and I expected to have to do a lot of digging to come up with anything.
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It was after eight that evening and my wife and I were relaxing in front of the television when the phone rang. It was one of the deputies that I had shown the photos to that afternoon. He told me that he was at “Arby’s” in Cathedral City and the man and boy in the photos were sitting at a table near him eating.
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I asked him to go to their table and ask the man if he was Colin Thatcher. The man was visibly upset when he was approached by the deputy. He told the deputy to fuck off, he was not the man he had asked for and to leave them alone. The deputy called me back after leaving the man alone. I thanked him and told him I would take it from there.
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The next morning, I was at the junior high school in Cathedral City talking to the main office lady. I didn’t say why I wanted to look at the current yearbook, but she did not object after I showed her my badge.
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It took me several minutes to find the picture of a boy that looked identical to Colin Thatcher’s son, but there he was. The name of this boy was not Thatcher, but the constable had told me that Thatcher and the boy may be using assumed names.
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The office lady was very helpful and never questioned why I wanted the boys home address. I spent the next two hours staking out a condo in Cathedral City that was listed as the boy’s home address.
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I watched as the man in the photos walked towards a sedan and I headed him off before he could open the car door. I badged him and said, “I need to speak to you Mr. Thatcher.” This guy was pissed off now.
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He told me that another asshole cop had called him that name last night and that he was not Colin Thatcher. He gave me a fake name and suggested that I fuck off before he sued me and the sheriff’s office for harassment.
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I didn’t bother with my lieutenant this time. I went directly to my office and called the constable in Canada. I ran the story by him, and he asked if he could call me back in a few minutes.
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When he called me back, he told me that he had a plan to embarrass Thatcher and have him come back to Saskatchewan on his own, without having to go through the diplomatic channels. His plan was to broadcast a conversation between me and the constable over a local radio station.
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I agreed with his plan and the next thing I knew, I was being interviewed by a radio talk show host from Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. The talk show host was surprised at how fast I had found Thatcher, but I told him the credit really belonged to the deputy that was having lunch at the time he spotted Thatcher.
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After the interview, the constable called me back and asked if I was willing to travel to Saskatchewan to testify in court. I told him of course and he said he would get back to me with the details.
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I went next door to tell the lieutenant about finding Thatcher and the radio interview in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. When I told him about going up there for court, he said to give him the constables phone number and he would arrange a deposition over the phone if they needed me.
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I didn’t need to go to court, but the constable sent me a hat badge piece, shoulder patches and the little badges that go on the epaulets of their uniform along with a nice thank you letter.
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I didn’t hear anything about Colin Thatcher again until 1990 when the movie “Love and Hate: The story of Colin and Joanne Thatcher,” was released.
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Colin Thatcher murdered his wife in 1983. He was sentenced to life in prison in 1984 and was paroled from prison in 2006.
Leroy B. Vaughn's short stories, fiction and non fiction have been published in print, ezines, anthologies and podcasts. He is retired and lives in Arizona, USA.