There are some cases which remain with you long after they’re closed. In fact, whenever I’m on the 101 Freeway in California and pass a certain exit along the San Fernando Valley, I feel the sadness. It’s gotten better over time, but it never really goes way.

_{^{Investigative Career}}

After a relatively satisfying twenty plus year career as a federal investigator, I pursued several gigs in the private sector–most of them involving Corporate Investigations. One of them was with a well known German manufacturing company where I ran an office based in Mexico City, another with a scientific glass and ceramics company in upstate New York and finally a position with a pharmaceutical company in California. However, the latter job soon led me down a path of misery which began to seriously affect my health. Fortunately, a close friend threw me a ‘lifeline’ (a lead on a consultant job overseas) and I resigned from the toxic relationship with a complicated ¹boss.

I found myself heading off to Africa on a unique adventure, one where I worked as a “Serious Cases’ investigator for an international ²NGO based in London. The three month assignment breathed new life into my being. Although my physical residence was in French-speaking Senegal, the cases took me all over the African continent. I finally emerged from the depression of earning a great deal of money at my previous employment without job satisfaction. Who wouldn’t have recovered after interacting with Pygmy forest rangers and silver back gorillas in places like the Congo!

_{Strange Investigations}

I had always toyed with the idea of becoming a PI so when I returned stateside I set my mind to this goal, studying hard for the exam which I ultimately passed. I was now operating a Private Investigation company called Strange Investigations. And no, this work had nothing to do with the X-Files or the paranormal. It lasted a total of six years rounding out my investigative and people skills. The effort was well worth it–I was now my own boss and called the shots.

A few months into this career, I received a phone call from an older woman with a European accent. She and her husband wanted me to find their son who had suddenly and inexplicably left home. We met over coffee at a Starbucks on Burbank Boulevard. I immediately took to the mother–Rachel was soft spoken, likable and quietly concerned about her son’s disappearance. However, the husband Gil, donning a yarmulke, was an abrupt and disagreeable person who obliquely blamed his son for their woes. Perhaps part of the reason for the son’s abrupt departure from home had to do with the father’s disappointment of the son. Gil was also skeptical of my role and stated they were wasting their money on a PI. Had it not been for Rachel whose underlying goodness and love for her son touched me, I would have walked away.

Missing Persons Cases

Investigators will tell you ‘Missing Persons’ cases are the most challenging of investigations. But this case seemed to offer an added degree of difficulty–it was a unique Missing Persons Case. First, the son, Ari, was an adult in his mid forties. Few people, apart from this immediate family, would notice or care about his disappearance. He had graduated from a prestigious college in SoCal, had gone on to work several high paying but stressful jobs, climbed the corporate ladder, seemingly had it all (except a wife) when he “hit the wall” and suffered a nervous breakdown. He was released from his employment, could no longer make the rent payments and embarrassingly found himself back home living with his parents. While he recuperated, there were periods where Ari improved. He began talking about going back to work; other times where he talked little, abandoning hygiene and retreating to his room most of the day. During these times Ari and the father argued loudly about the son’s failure to live up to his potential.

Then Ari vanished. There was no hint as to where he was going. Rachel was concerned her son might harm himself. So, I sat down with the couple and interviewed them. I wanted to know everything I could about their son–Ari’s daily habits, friends, relatives, hobbies, his vehicle. Everything.

The interview was comprehensive and turned out to be the blueprint for my investigation. During the week, I spent time interviewing the staff at Ari’s preferred local library, visited both the local LAPD station and a rock climbing venue in the Valley where Ari spent much of his free time. A relative called to say Ari had contacted him on the day of his disappearance stating Ari had stayed at the local Good Nite Inn off the 101 Freeway in Calabasas. Although I confirmed Ari had spent the night at the hotel just north of the Valley, the footprint he left behind yielded few real clues. Then, I received a toll booth photo showing his car’s license plate heading northbound in Kern County. Where was Ari going? By the end of the week, I had exhausted all obvious leads and telephonic interviews, except for one. It was now Friday and I was down to one last contact number–a woman whom Ari had befriended and dated in college. Her name was Caroline and she made her home in the San Francisco Bay Area. According to Rachel, Ari and Caroline spoke to each other on and off over the years. As I got to know Ari from afar, it became obvious he was socially awkward and had few remaining friends.

_{^{Last Call}}

I dialed the number and waited. Eventually, someone picked up the phone…a woman. I introduced myself as a PI in search of Ari. There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Is this Caroline?” I asked.

“Yes, this is she. But I’m confused. I haven’t talked to Ari in several years and now I receive a phone call from him …and then your call.”

“Wait a second Caroline. You said Ari called you? Could you tell me what he wanted and where he was calling from?”

The answer blew me away. According to Caroline, Ari was in San Francisco and was asking to see her. That presented a problem as Caroline was married and working. Of greater concern, however, was where Ari was calling from.

“He said he was calling from the Golden Gate Bridge. I got the feeling he was very confused.”

I explained I was hired by Ari’s parents to find him. Then I convinced Caroline to call Ari back.

“Can you do that Caroline? Can you buy us some time? I’m worried Ari might ³harm himself. I’ll call you back in twenty minutes.”

I was now about to learn everything I wanted to know about the Golden Gate Bridge Patrol Office . Eventually, I got through to a patrol officer who acknowledged a person matching Ari’s description had been seen earlier that day loitering on the iconic bridge. The police had not only taken a photo of this man, but watched him closely for twenty minutes before the stranger made his way off the bridge. The officer emailed me the photo. It was grainy but, as best I could tell, it was Ari. I shared all the particulars with the officer who said he would provide local police with Ari’s BOLO notification.

^{_{Caroline’s Huge Heart}}

For the moment, I had done my job, but I had to let Caroline know where things stood. Back on the phone with Ari’s college friend, we talked about a strategy. She would call Ari back and insist they have dinner together. Caroline agreed to have Ari spend a day or two with she and her husband. That would give Ari’s parents time to drive or fly to San Francisco and talk Ari into returning to Los Angeles. And that is exactly how things played out. Ari spent two days with Caroline who had taken leave from her tech job. Elated with such good fortune, Rachel and Gil drove to San Francisco and convinced their adult son to return home.

Very few people would have done what Caroline did. I didn’t mince words when I called back.

“You’ve got a huge heart. Thanks.”

A few weeks later I spoke with Rachel. Her son was doing well given the circumstances. She was happy to have him back home. However, she posed an interesting question.

“So, now what do we do?”

I let her question sink in for a moment and responded, “Rachel, my job is done.”

Three months passed. There were other pressing cases now including a scandalous “Celebrity” case as well as a request to investigate a quarter million dollar armed heist involving bitcoin. You would be hard pressed to make up the cast of characters involved in the theft. There was a Russian Armenian gangster who would go on to threaten my life and die in a shooting two weeks later, a Mexican cartel member, a ‘Crips and Blood’ late show from Compton, and several other lesser and greater crooks and grifters who had done prison time or were about to.

^{_{He Didn’t Suffer}}

Then Rachel called. I had no idea why she was calling…I could only imagine. Had something gone wrong?

“It’s Ari…he left us again.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Rachel.”

“He’s gone Ken…gone for good!”

“I don’t understand Rachel,” I said.

“He went back to the Bridge. This time he jumped. The police said Ari died when he hit the water. I know he didn’t suffer.”

A great sadness began washing over me. I don’t recall the rest of our conversation except for Rachel’s last statement.

“As a mother, I thank you for finding Ari and giving us three more months with him.”

There was an abbreviated religious ceremony and small gathering which I politely declined. I did, however, at a later date stop by and visit with Rachel and Gil. Gil was caught up in a new hobby creating children’s books for his grandson while Rachel continued gardening. It just so happened that Ari’s only sibling, a sister, her husband and child were also visiting. We all felt Ari’s presence without mentioning his name. I hugged each one them and left a condolence card behind.

Rachel walked me to my car. We shook hands. I expected no less. She was that kind of person.

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1. My understanding is the boss was fired by the company shortly after I resigned. ↩︎
2. Non-Governmental Organization ↩︎
3. The Golden Gate Bridge is the most used suicide site in the world. ↩︎