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“An unknown suspect,” Tower corrected.

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Tower said, frustrated. “That is the point. With a known homicide victim, you can try to fill in gaps about her.” He tapped the notepad Renee had written on. “But I don’t know who this guy is, so there’s no way I can answer these questions.”

“You have to use your imagination,” Renee said, her face tightening into a scowl.

“Two things, Renee.” Tower held up one finger. “One, I can’t present my imagination as evidence in court.”

“I know that,” Renee answered quietly. “I’m not suggesting — ”

“And two,” Tower raised his voice to override hers. “Just run the list of suspects that match the basic M.O. and let me know who is still a viable suspect. I’ll run down each lead.”

“I’m not against the shoe leather approach,” Renee said, “but if you want to get an edge on this guy — ”

“Sounds like you and Crawford both like the same method,” Tower interrupted. He drank the last of his coffee and crumpled the small cup. “Just get me the names, Renee.”

Renee’s eyes narrowed. “Fine.”

Tower tossed the crumpled Styrofoam into the trash. Then he set the yellow paper on her desk next to her. “And if I want any voodoo, I’ll call the F.B.I.”

Renee didn’t answer.

Tower left the room without a word.

1900 hours

“Do you have any objection to this interview being taped, Officer Chisolm?”

Chisolm shook his head coldly.

“Can you verbalize that response, please?” Lieutenant Hart asked.

Chisolm waited a full fifteen seconds before enunciating clearly, “No, sir, Lieutenant. I have no objection to this interview being recorded on audio tape.”

Hart pursed his lips in irritation at Chisolm’s mock politeness. The reaction warmed the veteran officer’s heart. Then Hart continued, “And would you like to have Union representation present?”

“Do I need my Union rep?”

“That’s your decision, Officer. I can’t advise you either way.”

“Am I accused of something or am I a witness?”

Hart smiled coolly. “You are the accused.”

Chisolm nodded his understanding. “And who is the investigator?”

“I am,” Hart replied.

Chisolm allowed a slow, confident smile to spread across his face. “I don’t think I’ll need any Union representation here tonight,” he said.

Hart didn’t seem to know whether to scowl at the inference Chisolm was making or revel in the even playing field. Both reactions flashed on his face before he appeared to settle for assuming a neutral expression. “That’s fine,” he said officiously. “Then we’ll get right to business.”

“Let’s,” Chisolm said stiffly, folding his hands in front of him.

Hart was staring down at his notes and didn’t notice. “What is your current assignment, Officer?”

“Patrol.”

“Were you working last night?”

“I was.”

“Did you respond to assist Officer MacLeod on a call?”

“Probably more than one,” Chisolm replied evenly.

“This would have been at 2325 hours.”

“That’s a very precise time.”

Hart looked up. “It is, Officer. Do you recall responding to assist Officer MacLeod at that time?”

“No,” said Chisolm. “Why don’t you refresh my memory?”

“It was at Northgate.”

Chisolm raised his eyebrows in recognition. “Ah. Then yes.”

“You remember now?”

“Yes.”

“Did you respond Code-3?”

“We don’t tend to call it Code-3 anymore, Lieutenant.”

“What?”

“Lights and siren?” Chisolm answered. “We don’t usually call it Code-3 anymore. We’re moving to plain language on the radio. We just say ‘responding code’ now.”

“Well-”

“That’s probably changed since they moved you out of patrol,” Chisolm added.

“What?” Hart’s jaw clenched. He glared at Chisolm.

The veteran officer kept his face impassive, despite the howling laughter he felt inside. “I’m just letting you know. I think it’s a recent change.”

“Fine,” Hart said, biting off the word. “Thank you. Now-”

“Since you were moved out of patrol, I mean,” Chisolm said.

Hart stopped and stared daggers at Chisolm. Chisolm maintained a calm exterior.

You got nothing, Hart, he thought. And you never will.

Hart cleared his throat. “Did you have on your lights and siren, Officer?”

“No, Lieutenant, I did not.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t need to.”

“Why not?”

“Traffic was light to non-existent. I was able to respond safely without activating my emergency equipment.”

“So you sped.”

Chisolm shrugged. “I don’t know. I responded quickly and effectively, though.”

“What if I told you that a citizen saw you driving recklessly?”

“I wasn’t driving recklessly.”

Hart ignored him. “What if this citizen paced you at almost fifty miles an hour?”

“What if worms had.45s?”

“Huh?” Hart cocked his head at Chisolm.

“I said, what if worms had.45s?” Chisolm allowed himself a slight grin.

Hart shook his head slowly in confusion.

“Well,” Chisolm said, “if worms had.45s, then birds wouldn’t fuck with them.”

The blood left Hart’s face. Chisolm had seen this before. It usually presaged an outburst. He waited patiently for the storm to hit.

But the lieutenant seemed to bite back whatever had been rising up inside of him. Instead, he said in clipped tones, “That’s very unprofessional, Officer. And it doesn’t answer my question.”

Chisolm considered. “Well, if what the citizen said is true, then I’d say he was driving recklessly to keep up with me.”

“That’s not the point.”

“I’d say it’s pretty important, since he had no reason whatsoever to be speeding. If I was speeding, it was to assist an officer. What’s his excuse?”

Hart shook his head. “No. He’s the citizen. We serve the citizenry. You don’t get to question him. He was monitoring your poor behavior.”

Chisolm snorted. “Did you bother to look up the call that MacLeod was on?”

“Of course I did.”

“It was a rape,” Chisolm said, ignoring him. “And the second one that was stranger-to-stranger this week.”

“So?”

“So?” Chisolm’s eyes flew open. “So I figured that I was best serving the public to get to the call quickly.”

“Without using your lights,” Hart stated.

“There was no need.”

“And speeding.”

Chisolm shrugged. “If you say so.”

“I don’t say so,” Hart said. “A citizen is saying so. Someone who pays our wages, Officer Chisolm.”

Chisolm nodded slowly. “I see. And who is this stand-up citizen?”

“That’s not important.”

I think it’s important.”

“What you think isn’t-”

“I have a right to know who my accuser is,” Chisolm insisted. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s policy.”

Hart paused, then shrugged. “Fine. But understand that any retaliation on your part will be actionable.”

Chisolm held up his hands, palms up.

“Just so we’re clear, then,” Hart said. He turned a page in his notes. “The complainant’s name is Marty Heath.”

Chisolm sat still for a moment, then his jaw dropped. “Marty Heath?”

Hart nodded.

“The same Marty Heath that lives in the apartments off of Euclid?”

Hart glanced down at this notes. “Yes. How did you know that?”

Chisolm shook his head in disgust. “He’s a child molester. I served registration papers on him about six months ago.”

Hart stared back at Chisolm, disbelieving.

“He raped a little girl in his basement after he kidnapped her,” Chisolm said.

“Raped?” Hart asked, his voice faltering.

“Yeah,” Chisolm snarled. “He snatched her and raped her. Then he went to prison. Now he lives just a few feet beyond the legal distance he is required to be away from an elementary school.”