Smoke, Mirrors, and Murder

house. The two patrolmen were preparing to leave when Bill drove back—just as Carol was trying to lock the box of files in the trunk of her car.
    Bill grabbed it out. Kurt Raskow, the patrol officer, told Carol to put the box back into her car and instructed Bill to leave it there.
    At that point, Bill Jensen erupted and went “ballistic.” Even the Bellevue officers were surprised at his sudden mood swing as he went from being pleasantly cooperative to being angry.
    “But we were dealing with a domestic,” Raskow said, “and I’ve seen it before.”
    And then Bill’s rage ballooned suddenly to a point where the Bellevue officer found him “way overboard from what I normally see. I thought it was going to be a big fight right there in the street.”
    Bill stomped over to the Toyota Sequoia SUV and ripped a wire out from under the hood. He threw his arms into the air as he headed back to confront Raskow, who was trying to comfort Scott. Bill went into the house, and Scott trailed after him.
    Sue was crying and upset. She had called 911 for help, but the patrolmen explained that there had been no assault and that they could not deal with civil matters. Cars, files, and paperwork caught in a tug-of-war didn’t constitute an assault.
    The patrolmen could see Scott inside, peering out a picture window, and he looked safe enough; Sue didn’t worry that Bill would hurt him. Bill loved Scott. But the two policeman were concerned when they heard pounding as if Bill was blockading the front door. They called their supervisor, saying that they were afraid the child might be being held against his will. Then Scott came out and spoke to his mother. He insisted that he wanted to stay with his father.
    Advised by the Bellevue police to obtain a no-contact/ protection order, Sue and Carol drove to the District Court and obtained one, but the officers wanted them to stay away until police served the order. Sue was worried sick about Scott, so Raskow and Boyd brought him along when they met Sue and Carol a few miles from Newport Hills and escorted them back to the Jensens’ home. The police were concerned about another confrontation. Scott was okay, but torn, his loyalty to both his parents obvious.
    It was something no twelve-year-old boy should have to go through.
    Bill was inside the house, apparently still barricaded. Aware now that they were dealing with a former deputy sheriff who had a safe full of guns in the house, the Bellevue Police chose a cautionary approach, and stationed eight officers around the perimeter of the property. A negotiator called the phone inside, but Bill wouldn’t pick it up. They left messages on the answering machine, hoping that he was listening.
    It was a very bad night. Sue and Carol waited outside. Sue wasn’t sure what Bill might do—but she was still certain he would never hurt Scott.
    For two and a half hours, they were at a standoff. And finally Bill walked out. Bill was served with the no-contact order, and allowed to go.
    When Sue checked the master bedroom closet, she found that Bill’s service revolver was gone. As for the seventeen guns in his safe, Bill told Officer Kurt Raskow that he had forgotten the combination to his own safe. After midnight, and just to reassure themselves that Jensen didn’t have access to it, the Bellevue police arranged to bring their van to pick up the safe full of guns and remove it from the house. It was subsequently locked in the department’s property room. That was probably a wise move; Bill had committed the combination to memory. He was in and out of it a few times each day, although Sue wasn’t allowed to see what he kept in there.
    Any police officer—Bill Jensen included—knows that the two most dangerous calls he can respond to are mental cases and domestic violence disputes. Bellevue officer Kurt Raskow admitted that he had feared for his own safety when the huge ex-cop went in an instant from being reasonable to towering rage.
    All in all, the conclusion to that long June evening had been lucky. Nobody was hurt. Nobody was killed. Everyone involved—the Harris sisters, Sue and Carol; the Jensen children; the Bellevue police officers; and quite probably Bill Jensen too—was relieved.
     
    Sue Jensen hired Janet Brooks* to represent her in her divorce proceedings. Sue had never had a will, assuming as most young wives do that she and Bill would be each other’s heirs if one of them should die. She had never checked on the bank