“On a misdemeanor?”
“It’s a domestic violence. You know how they are about DVs.”
“They who?”
“Sergeants, prosecutors,” Sully smiled. “Italians. You name it.”
Battaglia sighed, not taking the bait. “Look, we caught him within the two blocks. Let’s just book him.”
Sully shrugged. “Fine. What about the trespass?”
Battaglia frowned. Sully raised his hands in apology.
“I’ll go back and get the rest of the neighbor’s information,” Chisolm said.
“Thanks, Tom.”
Battaglia popped the back door. “Get out,” he told Preissing.
“About time,” Preissing said, stepping out of the car awkwardly. “Now take off these cuffs before I call my lawyer.”
“How about you call him from jail, smart-ass?” Battaglia said.
“Huh?”
“What were you doing over at Lorraine’s house?” Battaglia asked. He began to search Preissing, removing items as he came across them.
“Lorraine who? What are you doing?”
Sully shook his head and clucked his tongue while Battaglia searched. “The stupid routine isn’t going to impress the judge.”
“Maybe it’s not a routine,” Battaglia said.
“I want my lawyer,” Preissing said. “Joel Harrity. Right now.”
Battaglia finished his search. “Like I said, call him from jail. Now get back in the car.” He guided Preissing into the back seat and closed the door.
“Lorraine who,” Sully muttered. “What an idiot.”
Battaglia gathered Preissing’s property. “No way is this guy Tower’s rapist,” he told Sully. “He’s just a loser stalking his girlfriend.”
Sully shrugged. “Still worth an FI.”
“Waste of paper.”
The two got into the patrol car. Sully reset the mileage on the odometer and put the car in gear. Battaglia advised dispatch, “Adam-122, we’re en route to jail with a male for a protection order violation. Mileage is reset.”
“Copy.”
Battaglia reached for the stereo. “Country, you figure?”
Sully shook his head. “Heavy metal.”
“Forget that. That shit hurts my head.” Battaglia turned on the stereo and channel surfed. When he landed on the oldies station, a familiar tune came through the speakers. He grinned broadly and turned it up, fading the volume to the rear.
“Classic,” Sully said.
“Fitting, too,” Battaglia answered, laughing at his own joke. He sang along with the chorus. “Well if you feel like loving me…if you got the notion…I second that emotion.”
“Turn that shit down!” Preissing yelled from the back seat, his voice muffled by the music.
Both officers grinned. Sully took over. “Hey!” he sang, “So if you feel like giving Lorraine a lifetime of devotion…I second that emotion!
“That’s fucking harassment!”
“Hey!” Sully and Battaglia crooned together. “I second that emotion!”
“You guys are assholes,” Preissing hollered.
Sully looked at Battaglia and shrugged. Battaglia shrugged back.
“He’s probably right,” Sully said.
“Screw him,” said Battaglia. “He’s going to jail.”
FOUR
Tuesday, April 16th
Day shift
0911 hours
Detective Tower tapped his pen against the open file folder. His left hand curled around a cup of coffee. He’d read and re-read the contents in the hope that something new would jump out at him, but all he’d succeeded in doing was giving himself a headache.
He took a sip of coffee and reviewed Giovanni’s report again. Although the use of the unique term “whammo” was interesting, he didn’t see any plausible avenues for investigative follow-up. He’d conduct a follow-up interview with Patricia Reno in a day or two, as well as review the medical evidence, but he was skeptical that anything new would come up.
He pulled out the FI written by Officer O’Sullivan the previous night. Victor Preissing sounded promising at first, but as soon as he read about the old girlfriend, his heart sank. The guy was stalking his ex-girlfriend, that was all.
Tower pursed his lips. Maybe. But maybe he was striking back at his ex-girlfriend through another woman. Psychological transference or whatever the textbooks called it. It happened.
Tower frowned. He doubted it. Still, it was worth checking out. Hell, everything was at this stage, since he didn’t have anything else to go on. Any minute now, the Crawfish would be-
As if on cue, Lieutenant Crawford strode into the Sexual Assault unit office. Tower tried to hide his disappointment.
“Where are we?” Crawford asked gruffly.
Several smart alec answers occurred to Tower, but he suppressed them. “On the Reno rape, you mean?”
Crawford narrowed his eyes. “No. On the JFK assassination, Tower. What do you think?”
Tower couldn’t resist. “I think Oswald did it, but there’s no way he acted alone.”
A few cubicles down, someone tittered. Georgina, the unit secretary, lowered her eyes and seemed to be concentrating on her keyboard.
“Very funny,” Crawford answered, dismissing the joke. He gave Tower an impatient wave. “Spill.”
Tower leaned back in his chair and sighed. “It isn’t good.”
Crawford shrugged and motioned for him to continue.
“Well, for starters, the lab is backed up two weeks,” Tower said, “so I don’t know if we got anything at all on forensics.”
“Order a rush,” Crawford said. “Anything short of homicide, this should get precedence.”
“It won’t do any good. Diane is in court for the next week on a murder case from last year. One of Browning’s cases, I think. I was lucky she was able to come out to the scene of the Reno rape. Anyway, with her in court, that leaves Cameron alone except for the intern.”
“We need to hire another forensics person,” Crawford muttered. “Okay, what else have you turned up?”
“Nothing. No witnesses in the area, despite a canvass. I’ve checked with Renee in Crime Analysis for registered sex offenders on file, especially any recently released, that showed anything close this M.O.”
“What’d ya get there?”
Tower shook his head. “If you sort the by ‘blitz attack,’ you get half the database. If you sort any more specifically, you get almost no one.”
“Almost?” Crawford raised his eyebrows hopefully.
“Yeah, almost. A few names popped up, but all were either dead, incarcerated or living out of state.”
Crawford grunted.
Tower continued. “There’s no similar instances city-wide in the last ninety days and none in that immediate area. If we expand the area a little bit, there are some incidents, but all of them are date rape scenarios with known suspects.”
“And there’s nothing in her background to look at?”
“No. She’s clean.”
“I don’t mean just criminal,” Crawford said. “I mean situational.”
Tower clenched his jaw. Don’t tell me how to do my job, Lieutenant-never-was-a-detective Crawfish!
Crawford was still eyeing him, so he forced his jaw to relax and answered. “Nothing there, either. She’s married, has a couple of kids and stays at home with them.”
“No guy on the side?”
Tower turned up his palms. “How am I supposed to know that?”
“You ask her, that’s how,” Crawford snapped back. “Maybe she had a boyfriend or some Good Time Charlie on the side. If she dumped him, he might have decided to get some revenge on her.”
Tower ground his teeth. “I don’t think that’s it.”
“Have you got something better to run down?”
He glanced down at the case file. “Uh, actually, yeah.”
“What?”
Tower snatched up O’Sullivan’s FI. “A couple of patrol cops caught a guy slinking around last night in the same neighborhood as the rape. I figured I’d interview him.”
Crawford regarded him for a moment, then nodded. “That sounds promising. Do it.”