poster paint outside a school, so maybe the school is somehow involved.”
“Her old man did it,” somebody said.
“We’re checking that,” Lester said. “In the meantime, we got the blood on that shoe, and we need somebody to walk the blood tests around, ’cause we need to know quick if the blood’s Manette’s or one of the kids’. If it’s not—if it’s somebody else’s—we’ll run it through the state’s DNA offender bank. And we need to talk to the University medical school, get Manette’s blood type. I’m told she occasionally volunteered for medical studies, so they may even have a DNA on her, and if the blood on the shoe belongs to one of the kids, a DNA might tell us that…”
“DNA takes a while,” said a short, pink cop who wore a snap-brim hat with a feather in the hatband.
“Not this one,” Lester said. He looked at the paper again. “We need Ford Econolines checked against all her patients, against the school staff, all relatives, and against whatever database we can find on felony convictions, Minnesota and however much of Wisconsin we can get. We need to see if any Manette-or Dunn-related companies own Econolines. Go to Ford, see if we can get a list of Econolines from their warranty program—they said it was an older one, so go back as far as you can. We need to run the registration lists for Econolines against her patient list, which we’re trying to get…”
Anderson broke in. “I’m setting up a database of patient names. Any name that pops up in the investigation, we can run against the list—so get all the names you can. All the teachers at the school, her phone records, anything.”
Lester nodded and continued. “We need to check Manette’s and Dunn’s credit ratings, see if anybody’s got money problems. Check insurance policies. What else?”
“Manette’s putting together an enemies list,” Lucas said.
“Run that, too,” Lester told Anderson. “What are we missing?”
“Public appeals,” said a black cop in a pearl-gray suit. “Pictures of Manette and the kids.”
“All the news outlets already have some kind of pictures, but we’re putting out some high-quality stuff in the next couple of hours,” Lester said. “There’s some talk of a reward for information. We’ll get back to you on that. And I want to say now, all the news contacts should go through the Public Affairs Department. I don’t want anybody talking to the press. Everybody clear on that?”
Everybody was. Lester turned to Sherrill. “How’s the house-to-house going?”
“We’ve hit all the houses where the residents could see the school, except for two, where there’s nobody home, and we’re looking for those people in case they were there during the kidnapping,” Sherrill said. “The only thing we have so far is one woman who saw the van, and she picked out Econoline taillights as the lights she saw. So we think that ID is solid. Now we’re going back for a second round, to talk about what people might’ve seen in the past couple of days—and we’re doing the same thing in Manette’s neighborhood. If this was planned out, he must’ve been scouting her. So, that’s about it.”
“Okay,” Lester said. He looked around the room. “You all know the general picture. Get your assignments from Anderson and let’s get it on the road. I want everybody breaking their balls on this one. This one’s gonna be tough, and we need to look good.”
As the other detectives gathered around Anderson, Lucas leaned toward Greave and asked, “Did the kid, the witness kid, did she see anything different from what Girdler gave us?”
Greave scratched the back of his head, and his eyes defocused. “Ah, the kid, I don’t know, I didn’t get much from her. She was fairly freaked out. Didn’t seem like much.”
“You got her phone number?” Lucas asked.
“Sure. You want it?”
“Doesn’t she live over in St. Paul? Highland Park?”
“Someplace around
“Her old man did it,” somebody said.
“We’re checking that,” Lester said. “In the meantime, we got the blood on that shoe, and we need somebody to walk the blood tests around, ’cause we need to know quick if the blood’s Manette’s or one of the kids’. If it’s not—if it’s somebody else’s—we’ll run it through the state’s DNA offender bank. And we need to talk to the University medical school, get Manette’s blood type. I’m told she occasionally volunteered for medical studies, so they may even have a DNA on her, and if the blood on the shoe belongs to one of the kids, a DNA might tell us that…”
“DNA takes a while,” said a short, pink cop who wore a snap-brim hat with a feather in the hatband.
“Not this one,” Lester said. He looked at the paper again. “We need Ford Econolines checked against all her patients, against the school staff, all relatives, and against whatever database we can find on felony convictions, Minnesota and however much of Wisconsin we can get. We need to see if any Manette-or Dunn-related companies own Econolines. Go to Ford, see if we can get a list of Econolines from their warranty program—they said it was an older one, so go back as far as you can. We need to run the registration lists for Econolines against her patient list, which we’re trying to get…”
Anderson broke in. “I’m setting up a database of patient names. Any name that pops up in the investigation, we can run against the list—so get all the names you can. All the teachers at the school, her phone records, anything.”
Lester nodded and continued. “We need to check Manette’s and Dunn’s credit ratings, see if anybody’s got money problems. Check insurance policies. What else?”
“Manette’s putting together an enemies list,” Lucas said.
“Run that, too,” Lester told Anderson. “What are we missing?”
“Public appeals,” said a black cop in a pearl-gray suit. “Pictures of Manette and the kids.”
“All the news outlets already have some kind of pictures, but we’re putting out some high-quality stuff in the next couple of hours,” Lester said. “There’s some talk of a reward for information. We’ll get back to you on that. And I want to say now, all the news contacts should go through the Public Affairs Department. I don’t want anybody talking to the press. Everybody clear on that?”
Everybody was. Lester turned to Sherrill. “How’s the house-to-house going?”
“We’ve hit all the houses where the residents could see the school, except for two, where there’s nobody home, and we’re looking for those people in case they were there during the kidnapping,” Sherrill said. “The only thing we have so far is one woman who saw the van, and she picked out Econoline taillights as the lights she saw. So we think that ID is solid. Now we’re going back for a second round, to talk about what people might’ve seen in the past couple of days—and we’re doing the same thing in Manette’s neighborhood. If this was planned out, he must’ve been scouting her. So, that’s about it.”
“Okay,” Lester said. He looked around the room. “You all know the general picture. Get your assignments from Anderson and let’s get it on the road. I want everybody breaking their balls on this one. This one’s gonna be tough, and we need to look good.”
As the other detectives gathered around Anderson, Lucas leaned toward Greave and asked, “Did the kid, the witness kid, did she see anything different from what Girdler gave us?”
Greave scratched the back of his head, and his eyes defocused. “Ah, the kid, I don’t know, I didn’t get much from her. She was fairly freaked out. Didn’t seem like much.”
“You got her phone number?” Lucas asked.
“Sure. You want it?”
“Doesn’t she live over in St. Paul? Highland Park?”
“Someplace around
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