Murder At The Front Door

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​The true and bizarre story of the murder of Robert Cushing Sr. by off duty Hampton Police Officer Robert McLaughlin on June 1, 1989 is now available on Kindle Paperback at Amazon

​https://www.amazon.com/Murder-At-Front-Door-McLaughlin-ebook/dp/B09G86ZJ93/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=Murder+at+the+front+door&qid=1631704118&sr=8-1
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Prologue

June 1, 1988 7PM

Robert McLaughlin had just poured his third shot of vodka with a beer chaser.  It was his fourth beer.  He was sitting at the kitchen table of his small two bedroom apartment as he watched his neighbor, Robert Cushing Sr., get out of his car and walk into his house.
“Look at him, he has an ideal life, and I’m still a patrolman, all because of him.  He doesn’t deserve to be alive.  It’s because of him and his liberal son that I was never chosen for Detective or Sergeant.”


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December 12, 1955


Robert Randall and Fred Janvrin, both age 15, were best friends.  After they came home from school they went to Janvrin’s house in Salisbury, Ma, a border community with Seabrook, NH and a summer beach resort.  Janvrin went downstairs to the cellar and came up with his father’s 16 gauge, pump action shotgun and gave it to Randall who was at the top of the stairs.  Unbeknown, to either teenager, the gun was loaded with double ought buck, 8 pellets with the approximate caliber of a .32, and the safety was off.  Horsing around, Randall pointed the gun at Janvrin and pulled the trigger while saying “Pow.”  To his horror, the gun discharged with several pellets hitting Janvrin in the stomach and lower abdomen. After Janvrin fell down several steps and onto the cellar floor, Randall ran next door to a neighbor’s house for help.  The woman called 911 and then she and Randall ran back to Janvrin’s house where she applied cold packs to Janvrin’s head and tried to stop the bleeding.  Janvrin was conscious at the time and Randall was hysterical and pleaded with Janvrin, “Not to die.”  In the follow-up investigation by police, Janvrin assured Randall that he would be ok and seemed to have no resentment about the shooting.  Janvrin then became unconscious before the ambulance arrived, and died enroute to the hospital.  

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     In a follow-up investigation by Salisbury police, the neighbor testified that she did hear the shot that killed Janvrin, but heard no yelling or any type of argument from the Janvrin home prior to the shooting.  She also testified that Randall was highly emotional and collapsed after Janvrin was loaded into the ambulance.  The parents of Janvrin expressed strong positive feelings towards Randall and stated that their son and Randall were the best of friends.  They also stated that both boys never got into trouble despite the presence of several other boys with serious records living in the neighborhood.  Police believed that both Janvrin and Randall hung out with the boys, but either did not participate in the trouble or were not caught.  However there was no doubt as to how upset Randall was over the death of his best friend.  This was confirmed by the parents of both boys and Randall’s teachers at school.  This was not helped by boys at school who subsequently referred to Randall as “Killer” Randall for some time.  He was also kidded by some delinquent boys that Randall, a murderer, was not going to prison while some of the other boys had done time in juvenile detention for less serious crimes, such as motor vehicle theft, kidnapping and robbery.  
A Newburyport court judge ruled that that the shooting was a tragic accident and that Randall would do no time in juvenile detention but would undergo psychiatric counseling.  A counselor determined that Randall was deeply troubled with survivor’s guilt, and felt he had a need to be punished.


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January 28, 1956

It was 5:40 PM when the boy walked into Dudley’s Diner in Salisbury, Ma, about 1000 yards away from his home.  He carried a double barreled shotgun that was not loaded.   
“Is this a holdup,” the waitress asked?”
The boy replied, “I guess so.”
The waitress called another employee who recognized the boy and tried to talk him out of what he was doing.  The boy told the waitress to give him the money in the register.  She gave him $78.  The boy replied that he only wanted half and gave her the money back.  She counted out $39 and gave it to him.  As he was leaving, one of the customers also tried to talk him out of it.  The boy told the employees not to call the police until one-half hour after he left.
The boy went home, gave his stepfather the money, and told him that he wanted to turn himself in.
The waitress only waited 10 minutes before calling the Salisbury Police who went to the boy’s house after responding first to the Diner.  There, they spoke to the stepfather and placed the boy under arrest.
Robert Randall had satisfied his need to be punished.


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Robert was subsequently convicted of robbery on February, 1956 and went to juvenile detention where he underwent weekly psychological counseling.  In August of that year, the courts and probation department received a report from Samuel Harder, M.D., of Boston, Ma.  In this report, it was noted that Robert had spent two weekends home with his family and no difficulty was reported; quite the contrary, it was a happy weekend for all, including Robert’s siblings.  It was also noted that people in Robert’s community harbored no ill will towards him, including the parents of Fred Janvrin.  The report concluded with the Doctor stating that Robert had attained the maximum benefit from the counseling and would further benefit by returning home while being on parole/probation.
Robert was subsequently released and returned to school.  He wanted to start anew which included taking the name of his supportive stepfather.  He was subsequently adopted by his stepfather and changed his name to Robert McLaughlin after he was released from probation in February 1958, and went on with his life. 


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October 1973

Bob McLaughlin had been a police officer in Hampton, NH for 3 years and was one of three officers, two patrolmen and a Sergeant, on patrol during the midnight shift, when he received a call to respond to Punky Merrill’s Gun & General Store in Hampton Falls, NH.  Hampton Falls is a small town just south of Hampton, NH with a population of 2000.  Its police department consisted, at the time, of a full time Chief of Police and four special (part-time) officers.  When the burglary alarm at the gun shop activated, it went to the Rockingham County Sheriff’s office who covered for part-time police departments in the county when no one was on duty.  The county’s deputies were tied up at the time and Hampton and Seabrook PD’s were contacted.  Seabrook advised that they would have someone available shortly.   In Hampton, Patrolman Kennedy and the Patrol Supervisor, Jim Kerns, were busy on a domestic dispute call, hence, McLaughlin was the lone ranger responding to the burglary alarm.
As McLaughlin arrived at the gun shop, he noticed three men coming out the side door, all carrying bags.  The owner of the store, Punky Merrill, lived in an apartment on top of the Gun Shop & General Store, and when he saw McLaughlin pull up, he came outside carrying his shotgun.  McLaughlin got out of the cruiser with his shotgun which was loaded with number four buckshot.  McLaughlin yelled for the three men to stop or he’ll shoot.  Up until the mid-eighties, it was legal to shoot a fleeing felon in NH.  As the three men fled across the driveway towards the woods, McLaughlin took a knee and fired (at the time, burglary at night of an occupied structure was, and still is, a class A felony).  McLaughlin aimed at the hardtop about three feet behind the burglar.  He had learned at the firing range that when you fire a shotgun at the hardtop or cement, the pellets would bounce up six inches and continue on their trajectory at that height.  Several of the pellets hit the burglar in the legs.  He was later identified as Richard Carson. 
“Headquarters this is 307, send backup, I have three burglars and shots fired.”
By this time, Hampton’s other two units were enroute to back him.
“Seabrook PD to Hampton, I have two units on their way to that location.”
  McLaughlin ejected the spent round, which also caused another round to load.  After checking the guy who was wounded for weapons, he started to run after the other two.  He heard shots and felt bullets whistling past him.  As it turned out, after McLaughlin fired his shotgun, Punky Merrill opened fire with his shotgun.  Fortunately for McLaughlin, Punky’s shotgun was loaded with lead slugs that were still in the gun since the end of last deer season, if he had double ought or bird shot instead, it was quite possible that McLaughlin could have been shot by Punky.  McLaughlin felt that one of the other two burglars fired shots at him but that was never proved.
Once he reached the woods, he stopped.  
“Come on Bob, let’s go after them,” Punky said to McLaughlin.  McLaughlin was a regular at Punky’s store, like most local cops, they knew each other well.
“No, bad idea Punky, we got other units on the way, and if they see you with a gun, they may not recognize you and shoot.”
“Yea, good point.  I’ll head back to the shop and turn on all the lights.”
“Don’t touch anything, we’re gonna check for prints, and put the shotgun down.”
“Gotcha.”
When other units arrived they set up a perimeter and contacted State Police to see if they had a K9 unit available.  Trooper Beaulieu, who was off duty at the time arrived about an hour after the call, and after a brief track through the woods, it ended at a dead end road where the burglars had probably left a car and subsequently fled.  
The burglar who was shot, Richard Carson, was transported to Exeter hospital under guard.  He was lucky.  The one pellet that hit him went thru his calf without hitting any bone.  He was released within 3 days and was eventually found guilty of burglary and sentenced to 2-4 years in county prison.  He never gave up the names of his two accomplices.
However, John Paine was arrested after his fingerprints were found inside the store and he confessed.  He also received 2-4 years in county prison.  The third person was never found or identified.
Richard Carson subsequently sued the Hampton Police Department and Robert McLaughlin personally as a result of being shot by McLaughlin.  To no surprise, this was a source of significant stress to McLaughlin which compounded the stress he was dealing with from the shooting.  He firmly believed that he came close to dying.  He was recently married and his first child was on the way.  The Town of Hampton’s insurance carrier stated that since the shooting occurred in Hampton Falls, they weren’t responsible and would not provide coverage to the Town on this incident.  As a result, the Town of Hampton told McLaughlin that he was on his own and they wouldn’t cover him.  Fortunately for McLaughlin, the Hampton Patrolmen and Sergeants had just formed a union, and their lawyer, Whitey Frazier, later to become the Honorable Judge Frazier, threatened an unfair labor practice in addition to suing the Town civilly.  The Town eventually relented and provided legal counsel and monetary coverage to McLaughlin.  The lawsuit brought by Carson was eventually dropped, but the entire event had left Bob McLaughlin significantly scarred.  He received a commendation for bravery.  It was given to him in the locker room one day before roll call.  It didn’t help.


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April 29, 1974

It was 11:32 PM on a warm evening in May.
“Headquarters to 308.”
“Ten-three,” Robert McLaughlin answered.
“Go to 942 Woodland Ave, report of shots fired and a man down on the front lawn.  Ambulance enroute.”
Holy shit Robert McLaughlin thought and then answered, “ten-five.”
“Headquarters to 312, can you back him?”
“Ten-five, responding code 2,” Rick Mathews answered.  
“Three-oh-five copied also, I’ll be responding.”  Car three-oh-five was supervisor, Bill Ritchie.  “Headquarters to units, the ambulance will stage down the street from 942 and will respond once the scene is secured.”
Four minutes later Bob McLaughlin arrived at the call.
“Headquarters I’m out, I got a man down and another with a handgun.”
Damn Bill Ritchie thought, and he upped his response to code three.  Rick Mathews did the same.
McLaughlin didn’t think, he just reacted.  He grabbed the cruiser shotgun and racked a-round in the chamber as he exited the cruiser and took cover behind the engine block.
“Drop the gun,” he yelled to the man who was now standing over the body, “and put your hands on your head and walk towards me.”
The man dropped the gun and started walking towards McLaughlin as Bill Ritchie arrived on the scene.  Bill got out of the cruiser with his gun drawn.  The shooter was later identified as Joe Williams who owned a bus company.  While McLaughlin covered Williams, Bill handcuffed him.
“Three-oh-five to headquarters, have the ambulance respond.  We’ve secured the scene and have one in custody.  Tell the ambulance to step on it, the guy who’s down is covered in blood.”
“Ten-five.”
Mathews arrived at the same time as the ambulance, and accompanied them to the man lying in blood.  He was later identified as Robert Muller from Lexington, Ma. 
The first EMT to arrive took one look at Muller and said, “He’s gone.”
“How do you know?” Mathews asked.
“The bullet hole right between the eyes has something to do with it.  That gray stuff oozing out of his head is his brains.  Not a thing we can do.”
At this time, Katherine Williams, Joe’s wife, came out of the house screaming.
Mathews and McLaughlin were able to take her into the house and calm her down.  Detective Sergeant Norm Brown arrived on the scene and covered the body with a blanket that was in his unmarked car.  The other patrolman on duty was Jim Tuttle who arrived on scene shortly after Brown.
“Jim, this is Joe Williams, he’s under arrest for murder, transport him to the station and book him.  It’ll be McLaughlin’s arrest,” Bill Ritchie said.
“That the dead guy on the steps?” Tuttle asked.
“Yup, deader than a door nail, got him right between the eyes.”
“That’s cold,” Tuttle answered as he was putting Williams in the cruiser.
Both McLaughlin and Mathews were able to calm Katherine Williams down and she was able to call her sister to come get her.
While they waited, they were able to get most of the story from her.  Joe and she were going through a nasty divorce that just got nastier, and they were separated.  At some point, Joe drove by the house and saw Muller’s car in the driveway.  Joe suspected Katherine was having an affair.  Katherine surmised that Joe parked his car down the street and shot Muller when he came out of the house.
After Katherine’s sister arrived, McLaughlin walked her to the car from the side door so she didn’t have to see the body.  He then came back to see Ritchie.
“Okay Bobby, you have the arrest.  Tuttle transport Williams back to the station and dicks are processing the scene.” 
“Ok Sarge, I’ll start right on the report.”
“And Bobby, good job.”
“Thanks.”
It was McLaughlin’s second gun incident in eight months.
Back at the station, Williams had already confessed to then Hampton Police Chief Clayton Bosquin who had been contacted earlier.  Bosquin relayed the confession to McLaughlin.
“Williams said he and his wife had been separated and began seeing a marriage counselor in recent weeks, but that Muller continued to see his wife. He said friends and neighbors told him that Muller would come to the Woodland Road home after he had left for work.”
Bosquin continued, “Williams then said after visiting with a friend, he drove by his house at around 11 when he saw Muller walking out the front door.  He was holding the gun in his hand and pointing it at Muller’s shoulder when Muller grabbed his hand and the gun went off.  He didn’t mean to shoot him, it was an accident.”
After McLaughlin finished the report, he went home.  It was 4 AM and he was still wound up from the night’s incidents.  He started drinking vodka with beer chasers.
McLaughlin was still drinking when Beverly, his wife, got up at 7 AM that morning.
“What the hell are you doing up and why are you drinking.”
“I couldn’t sleep.  I went to a murder scene last night.  Guy was shot right between the eyes.  I saw his brains oozing out.”
“I don’t want to hear that.  I’m making breakfast for Bobby jr.  Deal with it and don’t go talking to anyone at work.  You don’t want to lose your job.  At least you got some overtime out of it.”
Bob just looked at his wife.  He went to bed and didn’t get up until 5 PM that night, just in time to get ready for his 6-2 shift.  He held everything in and didn’t talk about it to anyone.  The stress mounted for Robert.  He received another commendation for his actions that night.  This time it was in the roll call room.


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Joe Williams was released the next day on $25,000 Surety bail.  In other words, he put his house as collateral and walked out of jail.  William’s attorney, Richard Leonard, presented a letter to the court during a sanity hearing from a Boston psychiatrist who had examined Williams. Leonard quoted the doctor's letter as saying "Williams is not psychotic and not dangerous to himself and others."
       His case went before a Grand Jury in June where they found no probable cause and the shooting was in fact an accident.  
Charges against Joe were dropped and he and Katherine were eventually divorced.


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August 17, 1975

Twenty-two year old Tim Campbell had just bought his Datsun 260Z and he couldn’t believe how well it handled.  It was a warm night and he had the T-tops off.  What made it better was the gorgeous blonde Paula that was next to him in the passenger’s seat.  The night had gone well and as he was driving her home.  He was hoping that she would invite him in.  He was going a little too fast in his haste to get her home when he began to skid around a corner on Winnacunnet road.  He overcompensated, began to fishtail and ended up in the oncoming lane.  Luck was not with Tim and Paula that night.  He hit a Dodge Swinger head-on as it was travelling in the opposite direction.  Neither had their seatbelts buckled and both he and Paula hit the windshield.  If anything good could be said, they died instantaneously.


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“Headquarters to 307, respond to the area of 795 Winnacunnet Street for a 10-25 with PI, ambulance is enroute.”  
“Roger that headquarters, I’ll be responding code 2,” answered patrolman Robert McLaughlin.
Bobby, as he was called by his friends, had been on the Hampton, NH Police Department for 5 years.  He was on his way to a serious motor vehicle accident with personal injury and he was going with blue lights and sirens.  It was just before midnight.
“I copied that also, and I’ll back him,” stated then patrolman Rick Mathews.  Rick and Bobby both got on the police department in 1970 and soon became close friends.
When Mathews and McLaughlin arrived at the accident site, they realized immediately that the accident was more serious than what the dispatcher indicated. It was a two car head on collision.  They called for additional officers.  They were joined by detective Tuttle and officer’s Kennedy and Ritchie.
“Headquarters to units at the accident scene, two ambulances are enroute.”
“Be advised,” Rick Mathews responded, “we may not need them.  This is a possible double 10-26,” which was police code for a fatal accident.  Rick called for additional units.  Bill Wrenn, who was on a little more than a year, was one of the first units to arrive and he was immediately assigned to traffic control.
When the Hampton ambulances arrived on the scene, they confirmed the worst, it was a double fatal.    They also called for a pumper truck to stand by as there was a gasoline leak from one of the cars involved in the accident.  
The accident occurred in front of 795 Winnacunnet road, the Cushing residence.  After being woken by the crash and subsequent arrival of emergency vehicles, Robert Cushing Sr. dressed, lit a cigarette and went out his front door to see what was going on.
He walked to one of the victim’s car while smoking and was advised by officer’s Kennedy and McLaughlin to leave the accident scene and put out the cigarette since there was gas leaking from the cars.
“Oh, because you have a badge you can tell me what to do? I live here,” replied Cushing.
McLaughlin stepped up and stated to Cushing, “Sir, if you don’t put out that cigarette and move back, you’ll be placed under arrest.”
“You can’t arrest me.”
“I can and I will.  Last warning sir.  Either move or you’ll be in handcuffs.”
With that said, Cushing begrudgingly moved off the road and to his front yard.
A short time later, detective Tuttle began taking pictures of the accident.  Cushing who was still steaming, from his recent encounter with McLaughlin, walked onto the road and in front of Detective Tuttle taking pictures.  
“Sir, please move,” said Officer Kennedy to Cushing.
“I will not move. You can’t tell me what to do.”
Officer McLaughlin was nearby.  “Sir, you’ve been warned,” and with that, officers McLaughlin and Ritchie placed Cushing under arrest and told him to place his hands behind his back.
“I will not.  You can’t arrest me.”
A brief struggle ensued between Cushing and officer’s McLaughlin and Ritchie.  The struggle consisted of Cushing refusing to place his hands behind his back.  After being assisted by Detective Tuttle, they were able to place the cuffs on Cushing and he was placed in the cruiser, transported to the station, and booked and bailed for disorderly conduct.  
Bill Wrenn thought to himself that Cushing really tried hard to get arrested, and it appeared he succeeded. 
When word of Cushing’s arrest was circulated around town, everyone was amazed since they all felt it was out of character. He was a well-respected elementary school teacher.  Cushing filed charges against the officers who arrested him and retained counsel to defend him.   The charges against the officers were subsequently investigated and found to be without merit. There was eventually a negotiated plea to the disorderly conduct charge, which was continued for a year without a finding by Judge Gray at the District Court level.  Essentially, a finding of continued for a year meant that if Cushing did not get arrested during the next year, the charges would be dropped.



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September 23, 1975

It was a quiet Sunday morning in Hampton and 65 year old Gladys Ring was on her way to church when she rolled through a stop sign.  Robert McLaughlin was on duty that day and was sitting on the side of the road observing traffic when Gladys went through the stop sign.  After he pulled her over, Rick Mathews responded to back him.
“What do you have Bobby,” Rick asked?”
“She blew a stop sign and she’s upset that I stopped her.  She won’t give me her license.”  Both officers then approached the car.
“Mrs. Ring, if you don’t give me your driver’s license, we have no other choice but to arrest you and tow your car,” McLaughlin said.
“I’m on my way to church, you have no right to stop me.  I’m a grandmother.”
“Ma’am, last time, if you won’t give me your driver’s license, you’re going to be placed under arrest.”
“You can’t arrest me, my taxes pay your salary.”
“Ma’am, step out of the car, you’re under arrest.”
“I am not,” and with that Gladys locked her arms while grasping the steering wheel.
McLaughlin then opened the driver’s door to the car and tried to pull her out of the car.
“Rick, give me a hand here, get her hands while I pull her out.”
Both officers were then able to muscle Gladys out of the car but not before ripping the jacket she was wearing at the shoulder seem.  She was transported to the station and charged with disobeying a police officer and resisting arrest.  She was subsequently released on PR (personal recognizance) bail.  Gladys Ring was the next door neighbor of the Cushings.
In a very short time, the story of Gladys Ring spread throughout the neighborhood and reached the ears of Robert Cushing Sr. and his son Renny.  The Cushing’s were outraged since the Cushing children and others in the neighborhood referred to Gladys as “Aunt Gladys”.
The Cushing’s, with Robert’s arrest last month still fresh in their minds, started a petition within days that circulated throughout the neighborhood and Hampton condemning what they called the “aggressive tactics of the Hampton Police Department”.  They also demanded the termination of officer’s Rick Mathews and Robert McLaughlin.  The Cushing’s went as far to appear before the Hampton Board of Selectmen to air their grievances.
After an internal investigation, both officers were cleared of any wrongdoing, and the petition went nowhere.  It seemed that everyone soon forgot about the incident, everyone except for Robert McLaughlin.


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May 1, 1977

John Tommasi was a part-time police officer in Salem, NH, and even though he was finishing his Master’s Degree in Business Administration in another year at the University of New Hampshire, he was seriously considering a career in law enforcement.  It would have been a pay cut from his job at AVCO corporation (which was subsequently bought by Textron), but he was single, and money wasn’t his primary concern in life.  Going to a job he enjoyed was more important.  
It was Sunday morning and he was doing fence duty at the construction site of the Seabrook, nuclear power plant.  He was one of eleven Salem Police Officers who responded to the call for assistance from the Town of Seabrook.   The newly formed Clamshell Alliance had over two thousand demonstrators surrounding the outside of the fence.  They were anti-nuclear and their intent was to shut the site down.
Opposing them were two hundred and seventy police officers from all over New England.  On fence duty with Tommasi was experienced NH State Trooper, Chris Colletti.
Looking at the demonstrators outside the fence, Tommasi said, “Hey Chris, doesn’t this kind of remind you of the Alamo.”
After a moment’s hesitation Colletti turned to Tommasi and said, “Hey kid, ain’t gonna fucking end like the Alamo.” 
“Good to know,” Tommasi said nodding his head.
Later on that day, officers stationed at the Seabrook plant arrested over 1400 demonstrators in a mainly peaceful confrontation.  Later on in life, Tommasi often wondered if Renny Cushing was one of the demonstrators he arrested.


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April 1980

Bill Lally was a recent grad from Mt Wachusett College and he had just landed his dream job.  He was a newly appointed patrolman in Hampton, NH.  It was his third day on the job and he would be with a training officer for about four weeks.  Today he would be working the 7 AM to 3 PM shift with newly appointed Sergeant, John Campbell.  There was the usual roll call banter where new guys were the butt of the jokes and banter.  The logic being, if you’re thin skinned and can’t take the roll call hazing, you certainly wouldn’t make it on the street.  All this hazing in the locker room and rollcall was referred to as the “Murderer’s Circle” by Hampton Police Officers.
After roll call, John introduced Bill to Bob McLaughlin who was just coming back to work from two days off.
“Glad to meet you Bill.  How do you like it so far and when are you going to the academy?” Bob asked.
“It’s great!  I have a lot to learn and it looks like I’ll be going to the academy at Pease Air force Base in September.”
“Well, you’ll certainly learn a lot this summer. Hampton’s population swells to over one-hundred thousand on some days, especially weekends,” McLaughlin said.
“That’s what I hear.”
“Okay, enough of this, get in the car Bill, you’re driving and your Sergeant wants a coffee,” Campbell said kiddingly.
“Right Sarge.  Nice meeting you Bob.”
“You too Bill and good luck.”
One of the things that Bill noticed was how immaculate McLaughlin’s uniform was and he mentioned it to Campbell.
“His uniform was perfect.  How does he get his boots like that?”
“It’s called a spit shine.  You’ll have to learn that before you go to the academy.  If not, plan on doing lots of pushups.”
“Thanks.  The Police Academy was recently increased to six weeks,” Lally said.
“Yea I heard, when I went in 1974, it was only four weeks.”
“Why is the academy at Pease?”
“They have army barracks that you stay in and cafeteria facilities.  They’ll be building a new academy in Concord, but it probably won’t be ready until eighty two.  And by the way, the barracks are drafty, so you’re lucky you not going in the winter, and the food sucks.  On the plus side, you get to come home on weekends,” Campbell answered.
“Got it.”
“And by the way, if you want to model yourself after anyone, it’s Bob McLaughlin.  His uniform is always impeccable, and besides his shoes, he shines his brass every day.  He’s proud of the way he looks and the job he does.  He’s a real cop’s cop, and his nickname is the Mongoose.
“Why’s that?”
“Because like a mongoose, he always gets his quarry.  He is relentless if he’s investigating a crime, and his DWI reports are spot on.  He’s been in shootouts and high speed chasers and murder scenes.  He has never lost a high speed pursuit and he’s probably the best driver and shot in the department.  He is the man”
“Thanks sarge, and that’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”
“Okay, coffee Lall.”
Throughout his career, Lally was known as Lall.


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Summer 1983

John Tommasi had been on Salem, PD for four years full-time, and had just made patrol Sergeant.  He had recently started a business, Sub Sea Salvage, where he taught and certified Suba Divers and did underwater salvage work.  After certifying eight members of the Salem, NH Fire Department, they were doing additional training with him on search and recovery.
Today, Tommasi was freelancing for an insurance company.  He was diving in the Merrimac River recovering stolen cars that were driven off the boat ramp in Lawrence, Massachusetts, just north of the dam.  There were two gangs in Lawrence that were responsible for the stolen cars, The Southside Kings and License to Steal.  They would typically steal a high performance car, try to get in a pursuit with any of the local police departments, including Salem, NH, and then drive them off the boat ramp into the murky waters of the Merrimac.  Lawrence had the unflattering moniker of stolen car capital of the United States.
Tommasi knew that the Merrimac was heavily polluted and over fifty thousand gallons of raw sewage was dumped into the river daily from Manchester and Nashua, NH.  The EPA was just beginning to take measures to clean the river.  In order to safely dive in the river, Tommasi had gotten a tetanus and gamma goblin shot to protect him from hepatitis A.  He was also wearing a dry suit and full face mask.
This was Tommasi’s first car he was diving on and he wasn’t surprised that he had zero visibility.  He located the car by the oil slick that was rising from the engine, followed it down 15-20 feet and attached the hook from a tow cable to one of the axels of the car.  After surfacing, he would signal the tow truck driver who would winch the car out.  He recovered sixteen cars that summer.
He was off that day and that night he spent at his beach cottage that he rented that summer on M street in Hampton with four other Salem cops who were all recently divorced.  Tommasi, at thirty, was the only one who was still single.  They were sitting on the farmer’s porch at 11:30 PM, on the front of the cottage, when they were joined by Bob Mark, Bill Wrenn and Bob McLaughlin who just got off duty from Hampton.
“Hey, we heard you guys are having a choir practice,” Bill Wrenn said.
“Yes we are,” answered Tom Ferris one of the recently divorced Salem cops.
“And we have plenty of choir books for you guys too,” said Mark Cavanaugh who was also recently divorced.  Bottles of beer were passed around.
“Hey Tommasi, I heard you were diving in the Merrimac today,” Wrenn said.
“Yea, I was contacted by an insurance company to recover stolen cars in Lawrence.”
“No shortage of those.  How’s the visibility?” Mark asked.
“What visibility?  I literally couldn’t see my hand in front of my face.  There’s shit floating everywhere in that river, and once I stepped on the bottom, my foot sank a foot into the silt”
“I hope they’re making it profitable.”
“That they do.  I’m getting $100 for each car.  Today was my first and I’ve got another dive scheduled in a couple of days.”
“Doesn’t Lawrence use the Merrimac for drinking water?” McLaughlin asked.
“Yea they do.  They must purify the hell out of it.  But I’m not drinking it.”
“Now that you mention it, I won’t either.” McLaughlin said.   The fact that the Merrimac was highly polluted and silted stayed with McLaughlin over the years.
Authors note:  When cops get together after work and have a few drinks, it’s known as choir practice.  The bottles are referred to as choir books, and of course, the cops who are drinking, are called choir boys.  It is believed that this practice was started in LA and was made popular by Joseph Wambaugh’s 1975 book, The Choir Boys.


******** 


April 5, 1986

It was the 1st week in April and the busy summer season in Hampton was beginning.  April and May could be busy months depending on the weather, especially on weekends and it was an usually warm Saturday night in Hampton.  Some people were taking long weekends and some of the college kids who had summer jobs in Hampton were beginning to show up.
Joe Galvin had just finished his rookie year and was glad to be off probation.  It was 9 PM and Joe was sitting in his cruiser at the intersection of Ocean Blvd and Ashworth Ave, referred to as AshCor by members of the police department. He was watching both pedestrians and vehicular traffic.  It was a fairly busy Saturday night when he heard a general announcement from dispatcher Mary Jo Ganley.
“Headquarters to all units, be on the lookout for a dark colored, older model Oldsmobile, with possibly Maine license plates, traveling north on Ocean Blvd from O street.  One male subject driving, possible 10-19,” 10-19 being police code for driving while under the influence.
Joe heard the call.
“Headquarters this is 306, I’m at Ashcor and I’ll keep a lookout for it.”  Ashcor was about one-half mile north of O Street on Ocean Blvd.  Ocean Blvd was a two lane road with one way northbound traffic.  Ashworth Ave was for southbound traffic.  Ashcor was the where the two roads became adjacent to each other.
Within minutes, Joe spotted the car.
“Headquarters, this is 306, I have a car and driver matching that description travelling north on the Blvd.  I’ll be stopping him.”
“Headquarters to units, anyone in the area for backup.”
Robert McLaughlin was in the station.  He had just finished cleaning his handgun.  In 1986, Hampton Police, like most other departments in New Hampshire carried the Smith & Wesson .357 magnums as a sidearm and every cruiser had a shotgun with double ought buck for ammo.
“Headquarters this is 308, I’m just clearing the station.  I’ll head that way.”  The police station was about ¼ mile from Joe’s location.
“Headquarters, I’m attempting to stop that vehicle northbound on Ocean Blvd, he isn’t speeding up, just not stopping, speed about 35.  Be advised, he’s all over the road,” Joe Galvin radioed as he caught up to the Oldsmobile.
Upon hearing this, McLaughlin activated his blue lights and siren attempting to close the gap.
Rick Mathews, a recently promoted Sergeant was the supervisor that night.  
“Headquarters, this is 305, I’m on Winnacunnet Rd east of the high school.  I’m heading that way.”   Winnacunnet road was north of Joe’s position and intersected Ocean Blvd.
“Headquarters this is 306, I have him stopped at the Century motel.  He pulled into the driveway.”  The Century was on a section of Ocean Blvd referred to as Rocky Bend and had a horseshoe driveway with individual units lined around the drive.  Joe had the car stopped in front of the second unit on the right.  He parked his cruiser at an angle to the stopped Oldsmobile to offer some protection as he was taught at the academy. 
“Joe, I’ll be there in a minute,” McLaughlin radioed.
“Me too,” Rick Mathews echoed.
As Joe Galvin approached the driver’s door of the Oldsmobile, he was able to smell alcohol coming from the driver, later identified as Ken Woodward, a Viet Nam Vet.
“Sir, can I have your license and registration and why didn’t you stop for me,” Joe asked.
“I had the radio up loud and I didn’t notice you,” Woodward replied.
As Woodward was talking, the odor of alcohol became stronger and Joe noticed how his speech was slurred and eyes were bloodshot.  All good indicators of a drunk driver.
Joe went back to his cruiser and ran Woodward for a valid license.  He came back under suspension for a previous DWI conviction.  Hmm, Joe thought, the best judge of future behavior is past behavior
As Joe was exiting his cruiser, he noticed the driver, the only occupant, bend down and either put something under the seat, or take something out, he couldn’t tell.  This is what most police officers refer to as furtive movements which instantly put Joe on alert.  As he approached the stopped Oldsmobile, Joe unsnapped his holster and put his hand on his .357.  When he reached the driver’s door, he stood back forcing Woodward to turn almost 180 degrees.  As Joe was about to ask him to exit the car and perform some field sobriety tests, Woodward pulled a gun, a Ruger Bulldog .44 magnum with a 2 ½ inch barrel.  As Woodward turn, he fired at Joe, missing him.  Joe returned a shot which missed Woodward and lodged in the steering wheel column. Galvin and Woodward were about three feet apart.  Galvin retreated to his cruiser and he radioed that he’s in a gunfight.  
The Bulldog has a 5 shot capacity and Woodward quickly emptied his gun shooting at Joe missing him with every shot. Joe returned fire, shot for shot, also missing Woodward, but he saved the last bullet in his revolver, he didn’t know that Woodward’s gun is empty.  Woodward then backed his car around Galvin’s cruiser at the same time McLaughlin arrived on the scene from the south and Mathews from the north.
McLaughlin and Mathews both exited their cruisers with shotguns.  As Woodward backed out of the driveway and began to head north on Ocean Blvd, McLaughlin fired a shot through the rear window completely shattering it, and as he attempted to eject the spent cartridge, his shotgun jammed.  All eight .32 caliber pellets missed Woodward.   
Mathews had pulled into the other side of the horseshoe driveway and as Woodward drove by him, he fired his shotgun at Woodward through the front passenger’s side window shattering it.  Mathews was kneeling down and shot at an upward angle, all eight of his .32 caliber pellets missed Woodward, with most of them going through the roof of the Oldsmobile.  All three officers got back in their cruisers and gave pursuit along with Officer Lee Griffen who arrived at this time and was behind McLaughlin.
“Headquarters we’re in pursuit northbound on Ocean Blvd, multiple shots fired.  Contact North Hampton and Rye,” Mathews screamed over the police radio.
Woodard took off northbound on Ocean Blvd with all four officers in pursuit.
“My shotgun jammed.  If we start shooting again I’ll be on my magnum,” radioed McLaughlin.
“Sarge if I have the shot, can I shoot,” radioed Griffen who was still in his rookie year.”
“Hell yes,” answered Mathews.
The pursuit continued north on Ocean Blvd.
“Ok, he’s turning onto High street from OB, he could be heading for route 101 or 95, contact NH State Police,” Mathews advised dispatch.
“Already did sarge,”   answered Mary Jo.
“Mass State police has been advised also.”
“We’re coming up on route 1,” Continued Mathews.  What’s common in many police pursuits is that the lead pursuit car, which was Joe Galvin, concentrate on driving while the second car in the pursuit, Mathews, called in locations.  Route 1, also known as Lafayette road was the main north-south road in Hampton.  There was usually a traffic bottleneck at the intersection of High street where there were stop lights.  Woodward blew through the red light almost causing an accident.  All four cruisers had their lights and sirens on which gave motorists some warning as they went through the intersection.
In another mile, Woodward turned onto route 101 west and from there, route 95 south barreling through a toll booth with four Hampton units and one NH state unit following which was waiting for them at the toll.  This was radioed to Hampton Dispatch by Mathews.
“Headquarters to units, be advised, there are two Mass state units at the state line, they’re planning on doing a rolling roadblock to try and slow them down, they are monitoring us.”
“Units copy.  We’re about ½ mile north of the state line doing around 80-100.  He’s all over the road,” Mathews replied.
A rolling roadblock occurs when multiple police units get in front of the vehicle being pursued and slowly reduce speed thereby slowing the chase, while other units box him in from the side and back.
“We’re coming up on the state line and Mass state units are moving.”
Since there were only two units, Woodward slowed slightly before flooring the pedal getting by the Mass state units while sideswiping one in the process.
“He’s by the state units and he hit one as he was passing it.  Pursuit is continuing south on 95 south, we’re just south of the 495 intersection,” Mathews radioed.
As the pursuit continued southbound on 95, the Mass state units tried to get past Woodward, but every time they did, he attempted to swerve into them.
“Mass 517 to base, I just want to confirm, this subject we’re chasing fired shots at a cop.”
“That’s affirmative 517,” Mass State Police dispatch answered.
“Okay, once I get pass the Whittier Bridge, I’m ending this.”
“Base copies”
Mass State Trooper Richards was a 10 year veteran of the state police and had been in his share of pursuits.  Pursuit policies in the eighties in both Mass and New Hampshire were much less restrictive than current pursuit policies.
As Woodward went over the bridge, Richards pulled alongside of him on the left.  Woodward tried swerving into Richards, which he avoided.  Richards responded by hitting Woodward’s left rear quarter panel with the front right fender of his cruiser causing Woodward’s Olds to spin out onto the median strip.  Woodward tried running away, but was tackled.  He resisted, was eventually subdued after a struggle, placed in handcuffs and transported to Newburyport, Mass PD.  He was subsequently extradited to NH for trial where he was found not guilty by reason of insanity and sentenced to the state mental hospital.  He was not released until 2017.  All officers and Troopers involved in the shootout and subsequent pursuit received commendations and returned to work.