Mike glanced over her shoulder. There were four other guys in the canteen, and they were already looking this way. “Not very private.”
“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
Mike poured himself another cuppa. “Okay, Sergeant, what’s the beef?”
“You filed a negative report on me.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You accused me of unprofessional conduct.”
“And your point is?”
Mike could feel the steam rising from the top of her head. “What the hell are you trying to do to me?”
“I think you’re personalizing this, Sergeant. I’m just doing my job.”
“Bullshit.” She knocked the Styrofoam cup out of his hands. Hot black coffee flew across the room. “I didn’t complain when you tried to get transferred to a different partner. I didn’t complain when you filed reports disputing my conclusions. I didn’t complain when you tried to use all your sick leave to get away or threatened to catch the Blue Flu if you didn’t get transferred. But this is different! This goes on my permanent record.”
“Sergeant, we may be partners, but you would do well to remember that I am also your superior officer. When I see conduct that in my opinion does not conform with the standards of this department-”
“Cut the crap, Morelli.” She surged forward, giving him nowhere to escape. “You want to embarrass me in front of the other officers, you do that. You want to make me out as some kind of man-hating ball buster, fine. But don’t screw with my career!”
“All I did was-”
“I know exactly what you did! And I know why you did it, too!”
“Sergeant Baxter-”
“I’ve been a cop for twelve years. And I’ve run into a lot of sexist creeps in my time. But no one ever messed with my record.”
“Maybe it’s overdue.”
“Your screwing around could lose me my career!”
“Maybe you should lose your career.”
“It’s all I have!” Her voice rocketed through the small kitchen. Everyone else present instantly turned away, but Mike knew they were following every word.
Baxter retreated a step. She pressed her hand against her forehead, as if struggling to regain control. “May I ask one question? What exactly did I do that you found so unprofessional?”
Mike twisted his neck. “Well, there was no one single thing, really… some of the remarks you made at the organ clinic…”
“Like what?”
“Various things. You said the place gave you the creeps. Others overheard you.”
“So what?”
“So, it’s not the behavior of a professional. It’s more something you’d expect from a… a…”
“Weak sister?”
“Not a member of the police department, anyway. Not a member of the homicide squad.”
Baxter turned away. “This is such bullshit.”
“It isn’t. We’re public officials. We have to maintain professional deportment.”
“Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.”
“Plus, if you can’t stand to be around body parts, how the hell are you going to handle yourself around a corpse? What use is a homicide detective with a weak stomach?”
Baxter’s teeth were clenched so hard Mike thought her jaw might burst. “I’ve been around plenty of corpses, Morelli. Almost as many as you.”
“You don’t act like it.”
“Why, because I don’t go in for the macho poker face? Because I don’t act like I don’t care?”
“There’s professional behavior, and there’s unprofessional behavior. And unprofessional behavior-”
“Would be that crack you made the other day about my panties. In front of witnesses.”
Mike fell silent.
“Now, that was genuinely unprofessional. That could get you suspended for a month. But did I turn you in, even though I found your behavior grossly offensive and revolting? No, I didn’t. And you know why?” She leaned into his face. “Because I would never do such a crappy thing to my partner, that’s why. Even if he’s a total and utter asshole!”
“Excuse me. May I cut in?”
Mike ripped his eyes away from Baxter and saw, to his horror, Chief Blackwell standing not a foot away from them.
The other people in the canteen scattered. Show was over.
“Could I have the next dance?” Blackwell continued. “You two seem as if you may be ready for a break.”
Baxter backed off. Mike tugged at the edges of his shirt, smoothing the wrinkles.
“Morning, Chief.”
“And to you, Mr. Senior Homicide Investigator. Enjoying your early- morning caffeine?”
“Chief…”
“This isn’t working,” Baxter said bluntly, tossing her hair back. “Not at all.”
“So I see.” Blackwell looked at both of them. Mike could read the tension in his neck, his eyes. “I think it’s time we had a private conference. A little heart-to-heart. One-on-one.”
Mike nodded. “It’s always hard to be the new kid, Chief. Don’t be too tough on her.”
Blackwell brought his head around slowly. “Her? I’m having a private conversation with you, Major. In my office. Now.”
Ben could hardly restrain himself. “You know who killed the Faulkner family?”
“Of course,” Dr. Bennett said. “I mean, I don’t know his name. But I know who he was. And it was a him, by the way. I can guarantee it.”
“How do you know this?”
“I’m a psychiatrist, remember? And I deal with a lot of sick miserable human beings. Frankly, Erin Faulkner was a pleasant change of pace from some of the cases I get, referred by prison or parole boards. Seriously deranged, dangerous individuals.”
“So getting back to the Faulkner case,” Christina said, “who was the killer?”
“The killer who almost wiped out the Faulkner family was what psychiatrists would classify as an organized nonsocial. I mean, when you think about it, the crime was really rather systematically executed. Even the eye removal was handled with consistency and efficiency. These people are usually relatively intelligent, decent looking, and well attuned to the feelings of others. Not just what they like, but what they don’t like. What scares them.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Very. Combine that with an active fantasy life that allows them to dream about their crimes well in advance-which results in them being well planned by the time they are actually conducted.”
“I see.”
“Some experts think all children are organized nonsocials-their world revolves around themselves. But at some point in their development, most learn to care about others, about the world outside. But not organized nonsocials. They never outgrow the ‘me’ stage. All they care about is what they need. They are the center of their universe. They think they are never wrong, that they never make mistakes.” She paused. “But of course they do, thank goodness. It’s the only reason some of these monsters are ever caught.”