The similarities between Vogel’s record and the MO used on Gail prompted an outburst of questions as Ron paused to sip from his coffee mug.
“Why don’t we just pick him up?” Dennis suggested.
“Does he have an alibi for the night before last?” Lefevre asked. “How did he set up the three rapes?”
Ron swallowed quickly and held up his free hand. “Hold it, hold it. All this is based on a single phone call. I got the name of the Greenfield cop who worked on the last two attacks, but I haven’t talked to him yet; nor have I seen any paperwork. There’re a lot of holes to fill.”
“And we don’t want to pick him up until we have them filled,” I answered Dennis indirectly. “If we grab this guy before we know most of the answers, we could open ourselves up to a nasty surprise. The press and a lot of other people would have a field day with that. We need to put Robert Vogel under a microscope before we pick him up, not only for an alibi, but for more details on his MO: Did he ever wear gloves? Did he strip before assaulting these women? Did he whisper? Did he trash their rooms or houses? There’s a lot to do yet.”
I turned back to Ron in the answering silence. “What else?”
“A couple more things on Vogel-I’m having the arresting officers’ affidavits faxed to us, since they’re part of the public record, but court transcripts and other closed documents’ll take a little longer.”
Todd Lefevre got the hint. “I’ll get on it-just give me the particulars after we’re through here.”
Ron nodded his agreement. “Okay, next suspect on the hit parade: Jason Ryan. While Willy was prowling the streets checking out Murchison, he also dug a little deeper into Ryan’s supposed activities, which at last report amounted to going home to bed. Were you able to find out if he snuck out later?”
Kunkle gave a disgruntled shrug of his shoulders, typical for when he came up empty-handed. Both his personality and his crippled arm dictated that he should outperform anyone around him. So not doing so tended to make him sullen. “I’ve got one witness who says he might’ve seen him on a bike, but if I’d pushed him harder, he also would’ve said it was pink and had wings. Ryan’s going to stay a question mark until we get lucky.”
Ron was obviously disappointed. “That’s it for me. Since the paper came out this morning, we’ve been getting a steady stream of calls, some of them interesting, some of them loony, and the rest in between. Ryan’s a popular suggestion, mostly among women callers, and there’ve been about ten men who called in suggesting Gail faked the whole thing for publicity. One guy claimed Dunn did it for votes-he didn’t explain how that worked. I was thinking that if we fed the Reformer a few more details, especially about the timing of the attack, we might get another lead.”
I gave Ron credit for an impartial presentation, purposefully downplaying the buzz that the evidence against Bob Vogel had stimulated, but there was no denying which name had suddenly hit the top of the charts.
Still, I wanted to play it by the numbers, this time more than ever. Not only did I have Gail’s interests in mind, but I knew damned well that if we pushed too hard and somehow screwed up, there’d be more hell to pay than any of us could imagine. The upcoming election, Gail’s willingness to have her plight politicized, and the fact that Bob Vogel had escaped prosecution once already through a policeman’s incompetence, all combined to make me especially wary. The moment we let Vogel’s name become publicly linked to this case, we would begin to lose control of it-Dunn, Women for Women, and Stanley Katz, among others, would see to that.
I therefore supported Ron’s suggestion. “Okay. We should stress that we’re currently building a case, but that we’d appreciate all the corroborative help we can get-anything heard or seen that might be linked to the specific time and location of the assault.”
I was looking at both Tony Brandt and Todd Lefevre when I said this. They both silently nodded their agreement. “All right. Ron, why don’t you put together a press release, then.”
I got to my feet and began pacing back and forth across the front of the room. “It would be dumb denying Bob Vogel is now number one. But I don’t want that overshadowing that we have at least two other strong likelies-Murchison in particular-plus Christ knows who else that might pop up. What we need to do, therefore, is to divide into teams and hit all three suspects with equal strength.”
“I’d like you on the Vogel team,” Brandt said quickly and clearly.
“All right, since I’m partnered with Todd and/or the chief anyway, we can make that one team. Willy, you’ve done most of the digging on Murchison. How ’bout you and J.P. keep on him?”
Willy gave a barely perceptible nod, but I knew I’d done him a favor. Besides Sammie, whom he liked because of her devotion to the job-and because she was one of the few people who regularly told him to drop dead-J.P. was Willy’s favorite partner. Polar opposites personally, they’d forged a mutual respect, knowing that each had special abilities the other didn’t.
Unfortunately, all this also predicated who would form the last remaining team. I looked at Sammie, my expression as supportive as I could make it. “And you and Dennis tackle Ryan.”
Her face remained studiously impassive, which for a naturally expressive person told me a lot. I wondered if she’d be in to see me shortly after this meeting.
I returned my attention to the whole group. “Each team should be seen as a core grouping only. I want to leave Ron running the command post, and it’s to him that all of us should report. That way, if any team develops a need for more manpower or resources, Ron’s the man to talk to. Ron, in turn, will either pull people from the other teams, depending on what they’re up to, or he’ll go to Billy for help. Ron will also be responsible for forwarding any information he might get to the appropriate team, as well as giving all of us general updates on all three investigations.”
I turned to the one member of the department whose importance was constantly underrated, except by me. “Harriet, that means you’ll be running the day-to-day details for all of us, plus keeping track of Ron’s paper flow. If you ever feel you’re beginning to drown, I’m sure Tony can find it in the budget to pay for a temp.”
Harriet gave me a look that suggested the possibility of that was remote at best.
I stopped pacing and stood before them in silence for a couple of seconds, slightly tongue-tied by what I felt I had to add. “I’d like you all to know, by the way, that I appreciate all the hours you’ve been putting in-personally, as a friend. It means a lot. Thank you.”
There was a predictably awkward silence following this, diplomatically broken by Tony Brandt pushing back his chair and announcing that it was time to get back to work. In the slightly overplayed hubbub that followed, J.P. Tyler came up to me just as I was about to leave the room.
“Since you’re handling Vogel, I thought you might be interested in this.” He held out a small, slightly silvery leaf.
I held it quizzically between my fingers.
“It’s from a Russian olive-like the one I found on Gail’s couch. After we talked this morning, I drove out to West Bratt to where Bob Vogel lives. There’s a Russian olive right in front of his trailer.”
8
Todd caught up to me in the hall as Harriet informed me, “Billy wants to see you.”
I smiled at that, watching Billy’s large form slowly lumbering toward his office. Something was bothering him, and typically he wanted to air it on his own chosen ground-using Harriet as an emissary so his plans wouldn’t be upended. I thanked her and followed Todd around the corner, out of the flow of traffic emerging from the command post.