Ken Englade - To Hatred Turned

Diversion Books
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New York, NY 10016
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Copyright 1993 by Ken Englade
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

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First Diversion Books edition December 2014
ISBN: 978-1-62681-503-2

A Family Business
Deadly Lessons
Murder in Boston

For Gary and Shell

Due to circumstances beyond my control, there were times when it seemed that this book would never be published. If any single person was largely responsible for getting it into print, it was my agent and friend Scott Siegel. To him I am especially grateful.

Helping to fill in many of the blanks in this story, which so far has been ten years in development and still is not played out, was Larry Aylor, whose life was changed radically by the events described herein. There are others as well who helped me along the way, many in more ways than they realize. Among those to whom I owe special gratitude are Larry Mitchell and Peter Lesser, who gave generously of their time and expertise, and who provided me with priceless insight into a complicated situation. Also providing valuable material at times when I really needed it were Captain Morris McGowan and Glenna Whitley. To them, I am also indebted.

One tremendous personal benefit that resulted from researching this book was that I got the chance to renew old friendships among current and former journalists in Dallas and Paris, all of whom gave unselfishly of their insight and knowledge. My sincerest appreciation to Steve Reed, Travis Hughs, Paul Freeman, and Arthur Higbee.

Others to whom I owe special thanks for many services en route to the completion of this book include Judge Pat McDowell and his courtroom familyPat, Ginny, Margie, and Kingalong with Scot Key, Donna Reed, Heidi Hizel, Rich Gibula, Diana Higbee, Linda Little, Jim Wieck, Nicole Perrier, Michael Byck, and C.C. Risenhoover. Thanks to you all.

Joy Jeannine Davis Aylor, homemaker and wife of Larry Aylor. Daughter of Texas multimillionaire Henry Davis, who made his fortune in the construction business. A.k.a. Mary, Mrs. John Storms, Jodi Packer, Jodie Packer, Leigh Curry, Stephenie Grimes, J. Taylor, and Elizabeth May Sharp. Born August 13, 1949.

Larry Wayne Aylor, successful builder of homes in wealthy Dallas suburbs. Husband of Joy. Born January 16, 1948.

Christopher Davis Aylor, Larry and Joys only child. Born May 8, 1970. Died December 26, 1989, of injuries suffered in a car crash.

Carol Davis Walker Garland, Joys sister, older by two years.

Elizabeth Davis Goacher, Joys sister, younger by eleven years.

Dr. Peter Gailiunas, Jr., a respected Dallas kidney specialist. Husband of Rozanne. Born circa 1947.

Rozanne Borghi Gailiunas, a registered nurse and wife of Dr. Peter Gailiunas. Born September 24, 1950. Died October 6, 1983.

Peter Gailiunas III, son of Peter and Rozanne. Born April 19, 1979.

Morris McGowan, an investigator in Richardson, Texas, a Dallas suburb.

Ken McKenzie, also an investigator for the Richardson Police Department.

George Anderson Hopper, auto body shop manager, entrepreneur, free-lance insurance estimator, and one-time student in an Assembly of God seminary. Born October 6, 1955.

William Wesley Garland, a Dallas pest exterminator and later secret spouse of Joys older sister, Carol. Born December 17, 1942.

John Michael Wilson, former Dallas prosecutor and defense attorney. Joys lover. Born circa 1945. A.k.a. John Storms.

Jodie Timothy Packer, successful owner of an interior design business in Dallas. Joys lover. A.k.a. Donald Averille Airhart. Born October 9, 1946.

Douglas Mulder, former Dallas prosecutor and well-known defense attorney specializing in high-profile cases. Joys lawyer.

Lawrence Mitchell, Dallas defense attorney specializing in appeals. Born July 1, 1947.

Peter Lesser, controversial Dallas defense attorney and unsuccessful politician. Born April 21, 1947.

Patrick McDowell, district judge in Dallas County.

Kevin Chapman, former Dallas prosecutor. Born October 9, 1955.

Daniel Hagood, Dallas prosecutor. Born March 28, 1952.

Buster James, born August 17, 1942, and William Gary, born August 9, 1951, Matthews, neer-do-well brothers from Dallas.

October 4, 1983
Dallas, Texas

Peter Gailiunas was chatting with his mother when the conversation was interrupted by the familiar but irritating click that told him someone else was trying to get through to his number.

I have to get that, Mother, he said. Hold on for a minute.

He depressed the plunger to switch to the incoming call and spoke into the mouthpiece.

Yes, he said sharply, this is Dr. Gailiunas.

Hi, Dad, squeaked a familiar voice. Where are you?

Gailiunas sighed in relief. It was his four-and-a-half-year-old son, Peter Gailiunas III, commonly called Little Peter.

Im at home, Gailiunas said, looking at his watch. It was 6:15 P.M. You should be here, he scolded. Youre late. Wheres Mom?

Shes sleeping, Little Peter replied.

You didnt call me, did you? Gailiunas said, doubting that the boy knew how to operate a telephone, much less that he could remember the phone number.

Yes, Little Peter replied proudly.

I didnt know you knew how to dial, the doctor said with no little amount of affection. Go get Mom.

Gailiunas drummed his fingers, waiting for his son to summon his mother.

Little Peter was back on the line in less than two minutes. I cant wake her up, he said. Shes sleeping.

Gailiunas frowned. Go back and try again, he said.

For the second time, Little Peter returned and said he still was unable to awaken her.

Gailiunas, annoyed, urged him to try yet again.

I really cant wake her up, Dad, the boy said after the third attempt. Shes sick.

Gailiunass exasperation turned to concern. What do you mean, sick? he asked.

Shes really sick, Little Peter said. Theres green stuff coming out of her mouth.

Gailiunas tensed. Are you okay? he asked abruptly.

Yes, replied Little Peter.

Is anyone in the house?

No.

Then lock the door, Gailiunas ordered, and dont let anyone in. Daddy will be there.

Less than thirty minutes later the phone rang in the house where Little Peter lived with his mother. The boy answered it on the second ring.

Hello, he whispered uncertainly.

Hello, Peter, a mans voice replied. This is Larry Aylor. Let me speak to your mom.

Shes sick, said the boy.

Where is she? Aylor asked.

In bed.

Go get her, Aylor instructed. Shell want to talk to me.

I cant, the boy replied. Shes sick bad.

Aylor opened his mouth, intending to insist, when he heard a mans voice in the background.

Hang up the goddamn phone! the man screamed.

Before Aylor could respond, the line went dead.

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.

William Congreve, 16701729

Larry Aylor, a wiry, compact man built like a shortstop, had been up since daybreak. The sun had barely cleared the tree-lined horizon before he was out in his pickup truck, making his daily inspection of the houses he was building in the expensive, sprawling neighborhoods of trendy North Dallas.