“This is the most hideous thing I have ever heard.” No one wanted to refute it. All murmured and nodded in agreement still reluctant to verbalize a thought. Kruger spoke. ”I’ve been witness to a lot of ugliness in my career, but this takes the cake.”
Chief Wilson stood up. he had remained impassive while listening to the tape. Now she was as animated as she had been on the porch of 172 Elm Street. This time she wasn’t barking out orders. This time she was venting her spleen and simultaneously delivering a pep talk.
“We’re going to catch these sons-of-bitches and we’re going to put them away for good. People like this don’t deserve to roam freely in society.” She pounded the table with a fist. “They’re fucking vicious animals! And that kind of animal belongs in a cage!”
She sat down again and slumped in her chair; spent, almost relieved that she could vent real emotion to fellow police officers. They could understand her anger. As none of her men had extensive homicide experience, the sight of the victims, the brutality, and now the victim’s pleading for her life was a baptism of fire. Wilson didn’t need much to energize her troops, but verbalizing her anger spiced with profanity was the perfect recipe to focus their attention.
Kruger approached the Chief and told her that he had to leave town and report back to Hartford. He said he had already checked out of the motel and that he would send a copy of the bill for reimbursement. The chief glared at him. “We just heard the ugliest audiotape imaginable, a woman pleading for her life, and your concern is for you expenses. Shame on you!”
“All in a day’s work, Chief,” he said without even lifting an eyebrow. He continued as if she had said nothing to him. Mechanically, he told her the bodies had been authorized for release to the next of kin. It was for the police to determine who had the right to claim the bodies. He had completed his work and there was nothing more he could offer from a forensics point of view, at this stage, until they recovered the gun, after which he could match slugs to the shell casings, or if someone were to be arrested, he could compare blood samples to the swabs he had taken, or if they arrested a suspect he could compare fingerprints lifted from the door handle. He said he would be available for consultation at any time. As he was packing up his papers he added, “You know Chief, it’s none of my business, but in a way, it is my business. You ought to consult with a forensic psychologist. Right now you don’t even know what you’re looking for. They can help.” Reluctantly, Wilson thanked him for his advice and said she would think about it. Kruger added, “Remember what I said about trying to keep this quiet?”
Wilson nodded. Kruger walked out of the conference room.
Huff raised his hand. The Chief glared at him.
“What?”
“I agree with Dr. Kruger,” Huff said.
“That’s nice. I’m so glad someone is in agreement.”
“You don’t understand, Chief. It’s all over town. If Sharon down at O’Neill’s knows, then everyone knows.” He waited for a response but none was forthcoming.
Wilson’s glare became sterner. Her face contorted. She walked to the window and looked out. She remained at the window for a considerable period of time watching automobiles pass by on Main Street. The monotony of it calmed her. She regretted her outburst. She wondered if her men thought it unprofessional. Would it help or hurt her image? It was much too late to reconsider what she had done. She could not unscramble the egg. The policemen sat impassively awaiting instruction. When she returned to the conference table it was all business as though she hadn’t lost her composure. She began to summarize the facts. She enumerated what was known and what remained unknown. It was unmistakable that two people were savagely murdered but they didn’t know the deceased’s relationship. It was now clear that two
Chief Wilson stood up. he had remained impassive while listening to the tape. Now she was as animated as she had been on the porch of 172 Elm Street. This time she wasn’t barking out orders. This time she was venting her spleen and simultaneously delivering a pep talk.
“We’re going to catch these sons-of-bitches and we’re going to put them away for good. People like this don’t deserve to roam freely in society.” She pounded the table with a fist. “They’re fucking vicious animals! And that kind of animal belongs in a cage!”
She sat down again and slumped in her chair; spent, almost relieved that she could vent real emotion to fellow police officers. They could understand her anger. As none of her men had extensive homicide experience, the sight of the victims, the brutality, and now the victim’s pleading for her life was a baptism of fire. Wilson didn’t need much to energize her troops, but verbalizing her anger spiced with profanity was the perfect recipe to focus their attention.
Kruger approached the Chief and told her that he had to leave town and report back to Hartford. He said he had already checked out of the motel and that he would send a copy of the bill for reimbursement. The chief glared at him. “We just heard the ugliest audiotape imaginable, a woman pleading for her life, and your concern is for you expenses. Shame on you!”
“All in a day’s work, Chief,” he said without even lifting an eyebrow. He continued as if she had said nothing to him. Mechanically, he told her the bodies had been authorized for release to the next of kin. It was for the police to determine who had the right to claim the bodies. He had completed his work and there was nothing more he could offer from a forensics point of view, at this stage, until they recovered the gun, after which he could match slugs to the shell casings, or if someone were to be arrested, he could compare blood samples to the swabs he had taken, or if they arrested a suspect he could compare fingerprints lifted from the door handle. He said he would be available for consultation at any time. As he was packing up his papers he added, “You know Chief, it’s none of my business, but in a way, it is my business. You ought to consult with a forensic psychologist. Right now you don’t even know what you’re looking for. They can help.” Reluctantly, Wilson thanked him for his advice and said she would think about it. Kruger added, “Remember what I said about trying to keep this quiet?”
Wilson nodded. Kruger walked out of the conference room.
Huff raised his hand. The Chief glared at him.
“What?”
“I agree with Dr. Kruger,” Huff said.
“That’s nice. I’m so glad someone is in agreement.”
“You don’t understand, Chief. It’s all over town. If Sharon down at O’Neill’s knows, then everyone knows.” He waited for a response but none was forthcoming.
Wilson’s glare became sterner. Her face contorted. She walked to the window and looked out. She remained at the window for a considerable period of time watching automobiles pass by on Main Street. The monotony of it calmed her. She regretted her outburst. She wondered if her men thought it unprofessional. Would it help or hurt her image? It was much too late to reconsider what she had done. She could not unscramble the egg. The policemen sat impassively awaiting instruction. When she returned to the conference table it was all business as though she hadn’t lost her composure. She began to summarize the facts. She enumerated what was known and what remained unknown. It was unmistakable that two people were savagely murdered but they didn’t know the deceased’s relationship. It was now clear that two
Similar Books
