Even though I’m awake and feel like updating, I think I had better not. I am making a LOT of typos and wrong words and so on at the moment and keep having to go back and correct them. I think any casefiles I try to write will turn out a wreck. It reminds me of the time when I was taking valium and it turned me into a semi-literate imbecile. (Which, by the way, I initially wrote as “imbelice.” See what I mean?) Oh well, I guess I’ll have to web-surf or read books instead.
Not sure when I’ll have time to update later on. This weekend is my boyfriend’s bi-annual family reunion and I’m going. It’s a huge affair, with people flying in from as far as Guam to attend.
One of the changes I need to make, when I do update, is that they found Nancy Daniel, a fourteen-year-old I just added to Charley two weeks ago. Or, rather, they found her six months after her 1976 disappearance but didn’t identify her until now. And in the same city! Inexcusable.
This week’s Flashback Friday case is Maurice P. Kneifl (and no, I have no idea how to pronounced his surname). Mr. Kneifl vanished from Sioux City, Iowa in 1983, at the age of 58. If still alive, he’ll be ninety in August. But I don’t think he’s still alive.
The police think Kneifl was the victim of a homicide, but they haven’t released any information on a possible motive and I can’t find one from the information I have. He appears to have been a well-liked gentleman, a pillar of his community even. He operated his own business. He used to live in the town of Hartington, Nebraska, an hour away from Sioux City, and got elected mayor there.
So what happened? We may never know. Given as it’s been thirty years, perhaps whoever did it, or whoever knows who did it, has passed on.
I thought awhile about whether I should post this, and concluded, why not?
I found out that Rollo is out of prison but not free. He’s locked up in maximum security immigration detention and actually may be worse off there than he was in prison, since his prison was medium security. I had to get some help from one of you, and make a lot of phone calls to various officials, to find out this information. Finally I found a guy who knew whom I was talking about before I even told him Rollo’s name. I could positively feel the man’s visceral disgust when he spoke about this particular detainee.
He’ll have a deportation hearing, of course, just a formality since you know they’re going to send him back to Sudan anyway (preferably by catapult), but I’d like to find out the details of that so I can maybe write a letter to the judge and have it entered into the official record what Rollo did to me. Might be cathartic.
Finding out the information I need — date, judge etc. — has turned out to be harder than I thought. Everybody wants Rollo’s A-number (short for alien number). And the A-number is kind of classified; no one is supposed to know it except the government and Rollo himself and anyone whom he chooses to tell. And obviously he’s not going to tell me.
(It annoys me that he’s still here. And it annoys me that he actually came to this country legally; he got some kind of visa. For a person from Sudan to get a visa to the United States must be akin to winning the lottery. And look what he did with it. They could have given that precious visa to someone else who would have worked hard and become a good American and not gone around raping people. But that’s a rant for another time, I suppose.)