Besides, the Norfolk cops said the guy had a snoot-full of booze.
According to Detective Norman Hunter of the Norfolk Police Department, Byrne's bed had not been slept in.
Later she received a telephone call from the Norfolk Police Department, but it only confirmed what Officer McCarthy had already told her.
She was too upset to remember much of what was said and she'd not spoken directly with Norfolk since that first call.
Phil Riley said the Norfolk police suggested Jeff was drunk.
There was far more to learn about Jeffrey Byrne before he could report an informed opinion on the happenings in Norfolk two nights earlier.
Tell me about this last trip—the one to Norfolk, Virginia.
Hated the hot and stickies of Norfolk weather and was always after me to transfer him back to Scranton—fat chance of that—or to some bread-basket state out west.
I transferred him to Norfolk but he didn't fit in there either and now he's gone.
The vehicle was in police custody in Norfolk but the authorities there said it would be released to the World Wide local office shortly.
Norfolk called three times today.
I'm going down to Norfolk Friday to talk to the local police, but so far, there isn't a thing to point to the guy skipping.
By the way, I'm free to ride down to Norfolk on Friday if you want a little company.
Norfolk called to confirm Dean's flight, adding there was nothing much new on the case from their end.
I'm going down to Norfolk tomorrow.
The traffic crawled to a near standstill as Dean's blood pressure mounted, sure the 8:00 direct flight to Norfolk would leave without him.
Although Hunter had been born in North Carolina—on 16 acres of red mud, as he described it—he'd moved to Norfolk in high school and never left.
"No sense of humor," Dean smiled to himself as he dialed Cynthia Byrne's number and congratulated his luck at being in Norfolk and missing the Wasserman business.
Dean explained he'd just arrived in Norfolk and there was nothing new in the search for her husband's body.
According to Byrne's expense file, his prior trip to Norfolk had been in late January and, earlier, in October of last year.
It was not unlike the Ocean Shore in Norfolk, only smaller and completely deserted.
While Dean wanted the opportunity to speak with her in person after his Norfolk trip, he didn't feel in the best mood to do it after spending half the night and day coping with Vinnie Baratto and his sleazy friends.
I know you want to discuss your trip to Norfolk and I hated to see the poor young man delayed.
There was total absence of mention of the disappearance of Jeffrey Byrne, Dean's trip to Norfolk, or any real-life matters for the entire evening.
Instead, he spent a half-hour in her driveway, discussing the Norfolk trip and the search for her missing husband.
He filled out the paperwork on his visit to Norfolk and answered some of his phone messages.
Norfolk called but there aren't any details.
Randy had been told before school about the telephone call from Norfolk and she had dismissed his offer to fly down with her.
The trip between Baltimore and Norfolk was in a much smaller aircraft than the first leg of the journey.
The weather in Norfolk was frightful.
There would be no chance of leaving Norfolk that evening.
At least somebody else would get the distasteful task of telling a wailing Mrs. Wassermann one of her bouncing baby boys was stretched out on a marble slab in Norfolk, Virginia.
Dean left word with the attendant that he would phone the coroner and the Norfolk police in the morning.
He has to be out there, caught in the seaweed at the bottom of Chesapeake Bay, with the fish and crabs having a party, getting as bloated as the fat Wassermann twin lying on the slab at the Norfolk morgue.
He was clearly embarrassed and apologized to Dean on behalf of everyone in the Norfolk Police Department, the City of Norfolk and the entire south.
He tried to appease the Norfolk detective by saying no permanent harm had been done and even Mrs. Byrne seemed to have made it through the ordeal.
Dean didn't go into any detail explaining why he had not gone to the Norfolk Police Station the prior evening—he just mumbled that he had a very distraught widow on his hands.
Dean filled in to his lieutenant the details of the Norfolk trip, leaving out what he felt wasn't police business—a surprisingly large portion.
I was with her in Norfolk when they popped the sheet on the wrong guy.
Norfolk has closed their investigation too.
He pledged to himself to refuse any further urge to "beat this dog," as his Norfolk detective friend had so aptly put it.
Can't the Norfolk police chase him down?
Because he parked the motor home in some campground near Norfolk, then transferred the bike to his car, stashed the bike somewhere down the beach and used it the next morning, like you said, to get back to the motor home.
I'm still frightened it will be the police in Norfolk even though I know that's silly.
Norfolk had all but ceased trying to locate the ex-World Wide employee, but Dean still considered him a missing piece in the puzzle and wanted to talk to the man.
Tracking him down would be difficult without stepping on the jurisdictional toes of the Norfolk Police Department.
Dean remembered it from their trip to Norfolk two weeks earlier.
Detective Norman Hunter called Dean from Norfolk later the same week.
He drowned on May 4th in Norfolk, Virginia.
Norfolk was too far from Scranton.
So you followed Byrne to Norfolk and met with him.
Some said he was talking about a job down in the Norfolk shipyard where there was work with the war coming on and all, but after a time, when Ma didn't hear, we just sort of forgot about him.
"Aw, this is cool weather for Norfolk," Leo replied.
The first word on the case Sackler and DeLeo were arguing about had come by way of a call from the Norfolk, Virginia Police Department the prior afternoon, Dean's day off.
Jeffrey Byrne, age 38, of 156 Maid Marian Lane, Parkside, apparently drowned in the early morning hours of Tuesday, May fourth while on a business trip in Norfolk, Virginia.
Norfolk wants us to dig around up here before they go busting their backsides trying to drag the Chesapeake Bay for a body.
If you ask me, those Norfolk guys would be better off checking the airports than the bottom of the bay.
Norfolk wants to clean this up and they're looking for direction on which way to lean.
The level of activity at Norfolk Police Headquarters made Parkside's much smaller operation look like the front porch of an old folk home.
To hear him tell, Norfolk was God's chosen paradise.