The Forgotten Man - Robert Crais Page 0,63
Edward Jordan had been charged with theft, forgery, and mail fraud for cashing insurance-settlement checks intended for a former tenant of the house Jordan rented. The facts were light, indicating that the reporter had filed his piece before he knew of Reinnike's disappearance. The next story was more interesting. Investigators had been unable to locate George Reinnike, and sources within the Sheriffs Department suggested that Reinnike was a possible homicide victim. Some of the speculations read like lurid noir potboilers.
The next story stopped me cold-
Forgery Victim Still Missing
by Eric Weiss
San Diego Union-Tribune
Six years ago, George Reinnike disappeared from the modest home he rented on 1612 Adams Drive in Temecula. According to his former landlord, Reinnike told no one he was moving. Reinnike not only abandoned a house-he left behind a small fortune in monthly disability payments. Foul play is suspected.
Todd Edward Jordan, 38, has been charged with forging Reinnike's name to cash the monthly checks. Jordan, an unemployed electrician, moved into the house several weeks after Reinnike disappeared in May of 1969. When Jordan discovered Reinnike's mail included a monthly disability payment from the Claremont Insurance Group, Jordan cashed the check. He continued to cash the monthly checks for the next six years.
Sheriffs investigators do not believe Jordan had anything to do with Reinnike's disappearance.
"Mr. Jordan responded to an ad in a local paper, and rented the house. We don't believe he ever met Mr. Reinnike," said Detective Martin Poole of the San Diego County Sheriffs Department.
Reinnike's landlord at the time, Charles Izzatola, knew nothing of the forgery.
"Todd was a good tenant. He was polite, and his rent was on time."
According to Izzatola, Reinnike moved out without informing him.
"The rent was late, so I went to ask about it. The house was empty. They left without saying a word."
Reinnike, who was a single parent with a teenage son, was not well liked by neighbors.
"The neighbors complained about George and his kid. They even called the cops a couple of times. Maybe one of the neighbors got fed up and ran them off."
According to Poole, Sheriffs investigators tried to locate Reinnike when Jordan was arrested, but by then Reinnike had been missing for six years.
Poole said, "A man doesn't walk away from free money like this. Reinnike could have filed a change of address or notified the insurance company. He did neither, and he never came back for his money. I'd like to know what happened."
Anyone with knowledge of George Reinnike or his son, David, 16 at the time of their disappearance, should contact Det. Martin Poole of the San Diego County Sheriffs Department.
I walked the length of the conference room, and listened to the silence. It was a lovely conference room with lush carpet and richly upholstered chairs. The kind of conference room where important decisions were made.
Anyone with knowledge of George Reinnike, his son, David, 16…
I went back to my chair.
Reinnike had lived as a single parent with a teenage son, and that son was not me. I turned to the next article.
The next three stories recounted more or less the same details as Jordan 's prosecution proceeded. Jordan initially denied forging the checks; bank records indicated a steady deposit history of like amounts into Jordan's account; Jordan's handwriting matched the endorsements on the checks; Jordan claimed no knowledge of Reinnike and had never met the man; local homicide detectives failed to establish a connection between the two men. Jordan was convicted. A final sidebar piece appeared with the crime reports, accompanying the story that reported Jordan 's conviction-
No One Waved Good-bye
by Eric Weiss
San Diego Union-Tribune
George Reinnike and his son, David, 16, lived on a quiet street on the outskirts of Temecula for almost ten years. Reinnike, a single parent, kept to himself, paid his rent on time, and often argued with neighbors about his unruly son. Then, one spring night six years ago, the Reinnikes packed their car, drove away without a word, and have neither been seen nor heard from since.
"People move all the time," said Detective Martin Poole of the San Diego County Sheriffs Department. "But this one has us baffled."
The police might be baffled, but when George Reinnike and his son moved away, most of their neighbors breathed a sigh of relief.
After ten years in the small rented house on Adams Drive in Temecula, the Reinnikes had made no friends, and seemed not to care. Many of the problems seemed to stem from Reinnike's son, David.
"George was sullen and unfriendly, and I tried to avoid