hallway, her husband, his blood. he was laying on the floor. is it a sight that lives in your mind a lot? a lot. oh yeah. outside, a crowd of police and friends and family curious neighbors gathered on the street below mark s house. among them, and an awful state, was mark s sister jackie. everything was wrapped in tape, police officers can cross, here you can do this, can t do that. i just wanted to or something. detective vic brooks was on the other side of the police tape. when i first walked, and i noticed there was appear to be knocked on the ground, there was some broken glass and stuff. investigators snapped photos of the chaos, drawers pulled out in the bedroom, close thrown in to a jewelry case toppled over. somebody was looking for
so they took her side i guess? they took her side. so that i was the bad person. jack told us the same story, eager he said to finally set the record straight. you never asked her to take pictures of herself? no. but the accusation, said jack, almost destroyed him. i was at home, i could ve opened my own two months and typically i don t drink. just to kill the pain. because everybody assumed that you were abusing your own granddaughter? yes. yes. the detective wondered, the jacques payne drive him to seek revenge on his own son? no, said jack. no. he wanted to reconcile with mark, not kill him. i know i but i love them dearly. anyway, mark was murdered,
room. and watch the man fall apart. [ crying ] i can t was this true grief the detective was witnessing? or regret? or guilt over something jack had done or hadn t done? i was too late. too late. what did he mean? jack didn t shy away from discussing the abuse allegations. here s how it happened he said. she had taken some nude photos of herself and sent them to her boyfriends. jack said he found out the girl was sexting, confronted her, said he was going to tell her parents, but she got to them before he did, jack said, and invented a story to get out of trouble. so they took her side i guess they took her side, yes. and said i was the bad person. jack told us the same story.
eager, he said, to finally set the record straight. you didn t ever ask her to take pictures of herself and give them to you? no. no. but the accusation, said jack, almost destroyed him. i was at home. i could have opened up my own whiskey store, i think, how much whiskey i drank for two months. typically i don t drink. but that was just to kill the pain. because everybody assumed you were abusing your own yes. granddaughter. yes. yes. the detective wondered, did jack s pain drive him to seek revenge on his own son? no, said jack. no. he wanted to reconcile with marc, not kill him. i know i hadn t talked to my son for four or five years but i loved him dearly. anyway, when marc was murdered, said jack, he was miles away at his own house. i was on the roof trying to put some shingles on.
him laying on the floor. is it a sight that lives in your mind a lot? a lot. outside a crowd of police and family and curious neighbors gathered on the street below marc s house. among them, in an awful state, was marc s sister jackie. you know, everything was wrapped in tape and police officers, you can t cross here, you can t do this, you can t do that. i just wanted to hold his hand or something. detective vic brooks was on the other side of the police tape. when i first walked in i noticed there were some papers that appeared to be knocked on the ground and there was some broken glass and stuff like that on the floor. investigators snapped photos of the chaos. drawers pulled out in the bedroom, clothes thrown in the bathtub, a jewelry case toppled over. somebody was looking for something?