hard point to overlook. Most of the murders I’ve worked up, I’ve only seen that in a sex crime, you know?”
We nodded. Respectfully. Hester had probably worked a hundred murder cases … we had worked four or five. And she hadn’t been with the law nearly as long as we had.
“And,” she continued, wiping her fingers on a piece of brown paper towel, “I haven’t seen any on male victims. I mean, if Sirken was a female, it would be explained, or explainable, but even the gay murders I’ve been on, you know that one in Cedar Falls last year, I mean they’re vicious and really nasty sometimes, but I’ve never seen that.”
She took a long gulp from her Pepsi bottle. “But I think that’s the main clue we have anyway, for the perp, you know. I mean, he’s either gay or has a real sex hang-up, not just nasty with sexual overtones or into dominance, you know?”
I noticed the room had become very quiet.
“Think so?” asked Art, chewing.
“Yes, I do.”
I suppose he was concerned that a woman, who was essentially a technician, was leading men, who were essentially street officers, in the investigation of a murder. And he obviously hadn’t thought it through that thoroughly himself. Not yet. Probably not ever. And if he did, we’d all remember that it was Hester who was pursuing that line of thinking first.
“Well, that’s a hell of a thing to say about somebody. I don’t think we should guess about the perp’s sex life. We don’t have the evidence …”
Art? I thought he must be inspired by the audience. What was he afraid of, a libel suit?
“Besides,” he said, aware of how he had sounded and quite pleased with the effect, “that makes the perp sound like a psycho. I don’t think he’s psycho.”
Embarrassing. Art, the department analyst.
He had moved down at the other end of the table from Hester, and I don’t think he could see her lips move. When she mouthed a silent “lots of evidence.” Or, a moment later, when her lips formed “fucking idiot.” I did. She glanced up just as she said it and saw me watching. Her face reddened, and she looked down at her Styrofoam plate.
She just smiled and took another bite of her hamburger. It did define the relationship between the Sheriff’s Department and the DCI, though. They would always defer in public to anything the sheriff said. Swallow their professional pride and then collar the sheriff later and explain some things to him. And, being the lone DCI agent in the room, Hester had to swallow just a bit harder. But I didn’t think I wanted to be around when she and Lamar had their next meeting.
The other two DCI agents came in while we were still eating. They were hungry, too, so we sent Maitland PD out for more. We reconvened the meeting at the kitchen tables and continued to discuss suspects.
It was decided to interview those on my list, to see if they had any connection with Phyllis. The assignment was given, of course, to Theo.
“Okay, Theo,” said Lamar, “why don’t you interview those people … and you might want to tape the interviews.”
“Sure.”
The other two agents, fresh from the scenes, had a few requests, too. One of them, Hal Greeley, knew Theo from a previous series of safe burglaries.
“Why don’t you and I do the interviews, and let’s, uh, do them here in the office. That way they can be taped on a good machine.”
That was in reference to Theo taping a series of interviews about a year ago and not realizing that his batteries had run down.
“And then we can get written statements, too.”
When he’d realized his batteries were gone, he had also realized that he had no written statements to back him up.
“Sure, yeah. Okay. As many as we can.”
Hester looked around the room. “You night people, you might keep an eye on both crime scenes. Sometimes a perp will actually return …”
We all said that we would.
“And I think we should assign photographers to all four funerals. Shoot the
We nodded. Respectfully. Hester had probably worked a hundred murder cases … we had worked four or five. And she hadn’t been with the law nearly as long as we had.
“And,” she continued, wiping her fingers on a piece of brown paper towel, “I haven’t seen any on male victims. I mean, if Sirken was a female, it would be explained, or explainable, but even the gay murders I’ve been on, you know that one in Cedar Falls last year, I mean they’re vicious and really nasty sometimes, but I’ve never seen that.”
She took a long gulp from her Pepsi bottle. “But I think that’s the main clue we have anyway, for the perp, you know. I mean, he’s either gay or has a real sex hang-up, not just nasty with sexual overtones or into dominance, you know?”
I noticed the room had become very quiet.
“Think so?” asked Art, chewing.
“Yes, I do.”
I suppose he was concerned that a woman, who was essentially a technician, was leading men, who were essentially street officers, in the investigation of a murder. And he obviously hadn’t thought it through that thoroughly himself. Not yet. Probably not ever. And if he did, we’d all remember that it was Hester who was pursuing that line of thinking first.
“Well, that’s a hell of a thing to say about somebody. I don’t think we should guess about the perp’s sex life. We don’t have the evidence …”
Art? I thought he must be inspired by the audience. What was he afraid of, a libel suit?
“Besides,” he said, aware of how he had sounded and quite pleased with the effect, “that makes the perp sound like a psycho. I don’t think he’s psycho.”
Embarrassing. Art, the department analyst.
He had moved down at the other end of the table from Hester, and I don’t think he could see her lips move. When she mouthed a silent “lots of evidence.” Or, a moment later, when her lips formed “fucking idiot.” I did. She glanced up just as she said it and saw me watching. Her face reddened, and she looked down at her Styrofoam plate.
She just smiled and took another bite of her hamburger. It did define the relationship between the Sheriff’s Department and the DCI, though. They would always defer in public to anything the sheriff said. Swallow their professional pride and then collar the sheriff later and explain some things to him. And, being the lone DCI agent in the room, Hester had to swallow just a bit harder. But I didn’t think I wanted to be around when she and Lamar had their next meeting.
The other two DCI agents came in while we were still eating. They were hungry, too, so we sent Maitland PD out for more. We reconvened the meeting at the kitchen tables and continued to discuss suspects.
It was decided to interview those on my list, to see if they had any connection with Phyllis. The assignment was given, of course, to Theo.
“Okay, Theo,” said Lamar, “why don’t you interview those people … and you might want to tape the interviews.”
“Sure.”
The other two agents, fresh from the scenes, had a few requests, too. One of them, Hal Greeley, knew Theo from a previous series of safe burglaries.
“Why don’t you and I do the interviews, and let’s, uh, do them here in the office. That way they can be taped on a good machine.”
That was in reference to Theo taping a series of interviews about a year ago and not realizing that his batteries had run down.
“And then we can get written statements, too.”
When he’d realized his batteries were gone, he had also realized that he had no written statements to back him up.
“Sure, yeah. Okay. As many as we can.”
Hester looked around the room. “You night people, you might keep an eye on both crime scenes. Sometimes a perp will actually return …”
We all said that we would.
“And I think we should assign photographers to all four funerals. Shoot the
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