The Face of a Murderer

Almost twenty years ago, a woman named Bonnie Hector was murdered a few miles outside of our city.  She worked for Geico insurance company in a small office along a busy highway, but not in a densely-populated area.  The property was adjacent to the Fort Drum military base, and a trail ran along the back of the building.

It appeared that she had come out of the building at the end of the work day and was shot and robbed on her way to the car.  The evidence seemed to indicate that her assailant had come and gone on a bike via the trail behind the building.

A couple of days later, I went into a bargain store that I frequented at the time for basic household supplies.  I nearly always used my credit card there, so I was surprised for multiple reasons when the clerk said, “Do they usually ask to see your ID when you use your card?”

I thought this a strange question for multiple reasons:

            *I used the card there regularly and had never been asked for my ID.

*He was the clerk and should have been trained in the store’s procedure.  Why would he ask the customer?

*Did he not understand that running my card through the computer meant there was an automatic check on the validity of the card?

I sized him up making eye contact.  He was young…probably late teens, a good-looking black fellow, polite when he spoke, nothing stood out as being odd about him.  But, his question caused me to look at his name tag and notice that he had an unusual first name…Provard.  I had never heard that first name before, so it locked in my brain.

I told him that I was not asked for my ID, but that it was my understanding that the card was computer checked when it was run through the machine to make sure it was not stolen.

He put my purchases in a bag, handed me the receipt, and off I went.  The fact that the encounter seemed strange stuck with me.

Within a few days, Provard Jones was arrested for the murder and robbery of the woman from the insurance office.  It was then that it was revealed that it was not just the money bag from the day that had been stolen, but also, her purse….with her credit cards.

I was chilled to realize that the pleasant store clerk was a murderer, and that his question to me was an attempt to figure out whether he could safely use her credit cards.  The card I used that day was a Mastercard with a picture of Boldt Castle on the front.  Clerks sometimes commented that they hadn’t seen a card of that type with that picture before.  I wondered whether she had the same card with the same picture, and if that prompted him to ask me his question.

I called the detective on the case and told him my story.  It was not evidence, but it spoke to his callousness.  The case did not go to trial.  Mr. Jones took a plea deal and got 30 years to life.

I am thinking about this, because yesterday I was in a store and the clerk gave me the creeps.  He looked miserably unhappy and his face and voice were expressionless as he handed me the receipt and said, “Have a great day.”

I wonder what his story is.