Murder at Willow Slough (29 page)

“Maybe we need to discuss this among ourselves,” Prosecutor Brown suggested.

It was because Jamie was Gay. “Wait a goddamn minute, I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to hash it out right here, right now. No one else got the death threat, I did. I’m a full participant here. I do want you to say whatever you have to say, we need to respect everyone’s input; but I will be in the room or there won’t be any operation.”

He breathed to calm himself, and was calm. Slaughter sent him good vibes. Carson smiled.

Bulldog spoke next; stood up to do it, too. “Fellows, Officer Campbell, Ms. Anderson, I have known this individual for, what’s it been, Jamie? Three years? Four?” Jamie nodded. “And in that time, he has always done exactly what he said he would do. He has worked these cases tirelessly, when nobody else in the media gave a rat’s ass about ’em. He has been courageous, he has always kept his word; he’s supplied us with very important information, always reliable. He’s a very, very bright individual, and he’s cooperated to the fullest extent with the officers involved. You can see that here today with these tapes. I don’t know how he gets the information he does. I’m sitting here amazed.

“Now I don’t agree with his lifestyle, and Jamie, you know that. But these murders aren’t about anybody’s lifestyle, and they’re sure as hell not about whether Homer Sauer happens to agree with it. They’re just murders. And sometimes when I’ve forgotten that, got caught up in the Gay aspects of ’em, Jamie’s been the one to remind me. They’re just murders. Forget the Gay thing.” Bulldog looked around the room. Dr. Steve Helmreich nodded vigorous encouragement.

“Me, too,” Kent spoke up.

“I learned it from him,” Jamie said, pointing at Helmreich.

Blaney spoke. “And the fact is, Jamie’s the one who got the threat in that phone call. He’s the one the suspect wants. Now we know why Ferguson ended up where he did in that slough up north. To send a message to Jamie.”

“I don’t see how there’s any other way to do it,” Chief Watson said. “If you’re willing,” he said to Jamie. “Who else we got?”

“No one,” Bulldog said. “Otherwise it’s a picayune terroristic charge at best, from what the prosecutor here is saying, or a maybe-doable murder prosecution.”

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Slaughter said.

Carson of the FBI cleared his throat. “The Bureau doesn’t like working with this type individual.”

That was it! Instantly Jamie’s voice was white hot. “The Bureau has non-discrimination orders from Janet Reno, you son of a bitch. I’ll have the White House on your ass so fast you’ll wake up on an iceberg outside Fairbanks. It’s even bleaker than this godforsaken cowtown.” He rose, took two steps toward Carson. “I haven’t seen your office take any effective action in these cases in twelve years, because the Bureau is filled with homophobic bigots like you. Why are you here, anyway? Was your Klan camping trip rained out?”

“You little punk,” Carson snarled.

“You’re not from Behavioral Sciences. You have no expertise. Your office has done nothing but obstruct this investigation, foot-dragging all the way. Don’t forget, Agent Carson, I’ve got tape recordings of your wasted promises and delaying tactics to prove it. They’re in a safe place and you’ll never guess where they are. You won’t be able to steal them or subpoena them. There isn’t even a paper trail.”

“Jamie, watch it,” Kent warned.

“I’ve already put in a Freedom of Information request for the file you’ve compiled on me. Yes, I know all about it. The waiting period to get the report expires in sixteen days. We’re going to print every censored word of it, along with the obvious question of why you’re spending taxpayers’ dollars investigating a reporter who’s clean, instead of going after some jerk who’s killed a dozen people. And we fully intend to sue, you personally as well as the Bureau.” Jamie’s face was red. They were almost nose to nose. “Whether I’m dead or alive, you’re gonna be living with me for a long, long time.”

Carson looked ready to crush Jamie’s face. Jamie didn’t back down. Kent’s breaths came in quick shallow gasps.

“That’s enough!” Slaughter shouted, his bass voice bouncing off all objects.

Jamie ejaculated, “Suckah,” punched Carson’s shoulder and backed away.

“We’ve got an operation to run here, people,” Slaughter demanded. “We’ve got a 13-man killer to nail, and I don’t give a shit who fucks watermelons!”

Everyone but Carson laughed.

He stood slowly, claiming his dignity as a Federal agent, and said calmly, “My office signs off on this. We will not participate.” He surveyed the room, didn’t like what he saw. He did not look at Jamie, but kicked aside his own chair, grabbed his brown leather valise. “You’re on your own, suckahs.” He headed for the exit.

“Don’t let the screen door hit ya,” Bulldog cracked as Carson walked out.

Julie Campbell watched him go.

Jamie lost it. “Watermelons? How did you come up with watermelons?”

“Ten-minute break,” Slaughter said, grinning at Jamie.

In the corridor, Jamie lit a menthol right under the No Smoking sign. “Thanks, Bulldog, I needed that.”

“You’re not supposed to smoke in this building,” Kent said gently.

“I don’t give a fuck what I’m supposed to do,” Jamie snapped. “I may be dead in six hours. You want to write me up, do it.”

“Sorry,” Kent yelped. He ducked into the nearest office with a computer.

Damn. Dumped on my team leader again. Get with it, Jamie. Why can’t you cut this dude some slack?

Knew why. Cursed the selection of Kessler all over again. Weaseled into a conversation with Chief Watson and Steve Helmreich to divert the thought.

***

“The FBI’s got a file on him?” Blaney muttered as they filed back into the conference room.

“No criminal,” Kent replied. “It’s classified, when his background’s impeccable.”

“As you said, major, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Jamie said as he sat down. “Will you re-state the questions?”

“You said it succinctly this morning. With a case as complex as the Mafia, do we take them down one at a time or all at once?”

The others went back and forth: a bird in the hand or two in the bush? People came up with Jamie’s earlier arguments, so he didn’t participate. He let his mind wander, looked out the window. Kelvin. Haney. Cardinal. Riley Jones. Barry Lynn Turner.

Ricky. Mama. Danny, my only connection to family, to life itself. He worked to control his emotions. He took a deep breath, tuned back in to the discussion. Looked at Kent, who had an encyclopedia in his face.

Steve Helmreich was facilitating the discussion now. “So we’ve got roughly half of us saying if we can get a conviction now, do it. It’s easier, it honors the victims, friends and families, and we’ll get a very dangerous man off the streets and prevent him from killing anyone else, for awhile or maybe for life. Is that accurate?”

Several people nodded; the chiefs of staff, Col. Potts, Chief Watson.

George didn’t nod. Neither did Julie Campbell. Jack Snyder didn’t. Bulldog, Hickman and Blaney were stone-faced. The county prosecutor was silent.

Kent didn’t nod.

“Okay. That’s the bird-in-hand point of view. And it’s a good one,” Steve said. “Now then, the other officers, who happen to be the ones closest to the investigation, not that that makes them any better, will buy that, but they feel they’re close to getting the possible other accomplices; and it’s hard to walk away from taking down everyone, especially since the Schmidgall example turned out as it did. Right? Very hard to walk away.” Everyone else nodded but Jamie.

“And the bottom line for the two-in-the-bush view is that going ahead with it all depends on Jamie; without him, they have little or no chance at the additional arrests. If there are any to be made, which we don’t know. Is that correct?”

Another round of bobbing heads. All eyes went to Jamie as Helmreich sat down.

“If I do it, what’s the plan?” Jamie said wearily. “We don’t know what he has in mind.”

Kent stood and said, “He’s given you no incentive to do what he says. He can’t just invite you to the bars, invite you to get into his car and get killed. He has to have a hammer over your head.” Jamie nodded. “That suggests to me that he picks up someone else and then offers to trade him for you. That he plays on your desire to prevent further loss of life. In which case, we let him do that, and you show him by your presence that you’re playing along. We’ve got you protected at the bar. Then at some point he has to offer to make the trade and you have to agree to it. Then you find out the location of the swap, relay it to us, you exit and we swoop in with overwhelming force.”

Jamie said, “Kent, that’s very logical.” Kent smiled slightly.

IPD’s Chief Watson asked, “But how does that get us to any accomplices?”

Kent exchanged looks with his closest task force members. “It’s somewhat of a gamble, chief,” Bulldog said. “But we have a gut feeling that since Jamie’s been such a thorn in the side of these people, if they think they’re going to get him, he’ll pull in the other accomplices. Lt. Blaney, what did you call it?”

“Star power,” Phil said. “Ford wouldn’t be alone for this job, they’d have the accomplices there…”

Jamie shivered, “For a photo shoot.”

“It’s darn risky, Jamie,” Kent said. “You’re free to say no.”

He sat. For some reason Jamie thought of all the losses he’d been through. Rick is gone. My mother is gone. My fabulous career lands me working for Louie Mascaro. Working the Gay beat limits my chances. But I love the Gay beat.

I’m no martyr. Jesus did that once already. Ain’t nobody asking me to climb up on that cross. How to decide, then?

Then it hit him, and he became certain of what he should do.

Looked at Kent to make absolutely sure. Tall, strong, the only one who ever got these cases off the ground? The only one who didn’t try to catch a Gay killer by staying away from us? The one who got this powergroup together, the only one with a reasonable chance of nailing the dude?

The one who came to me the night I needed him?

He thought of a song from “A Chorus Line”—“I Can Do That!” It wasn’t even choreographed by Tommy Tune.

Jamie centered himself, stood. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for everyone’s input, airing all the pros and cons; ultimately this task force must act, as one unit, under our Commander. We cannot break into factions; we’re tracking killers. Before we settle on a plan we should ask, of whom is this task force made up?

“I look around this room. Some faces are new to me; others are familiar. Some of you are just meeting for the first time; others have worked together for years. Let me tell you who your fellow task force members are.

“Two of you, Bulldog and Hickman, are partners; when you found yourselves with four dead Gay men from Indianapolis, you made a decision that you would dedicate yourselves to solving those murders, to bringing those victims justice regardless of their sexual orientation. For over a decade, in every spare moment, you worked to solve the insoluble. Bulldog, Barry, I’m not only proud of you, I thank you.

“Three others of you are known to me. Jack, you’ve traveled many miles, worked scores of hours, interviewed, sifted evidence, all on behalf of a Red-Haired Boy you never knew. If he were here today he would say, Thank you, Jack. Thank you, Marie.

“Lt. Phil Blaney, you reopened these old, cold cases on your own initiative. You became the point man for Indianapolis P.D. when these crimes needed a central focus. That was pure leadership, Phil. These other officers needed someone in Indy they could turn to, and you volunteered.

“Dr. Steve Helmreich, you’re a street cop with a Ph.D. When you found yourself, as these officers have, facing a serial killer up in Michigan, you not only solved the case, you committed your life to studying multiple murder for one reason: to bring these evil killers to justice faster, in order to save innocent lives.

“Major Slaughter, you never let these cases get cold. The minute you heard of Mr. Ferguson’s murder, you went beyond bureaucratic boundaries to assign the toughest, smartest, most open-minded and skillful investigator in the state. Two weeks later he’s got us within striking distance. He has earned the job of Commander of this elite force.

“You men are heroes to me.

“Now we come together, from many jurisdictions, to form one unit under our Commander. In the short time I’ve known him, he’s shown incredible intelligence and dedication. He asks us now to follow him. His views are well-reasoned; his leadership is undisputed. He has inspired my confidence and yours as well. Let us follow him.” He looked right at Kent. “I choose to follow my Commander.”

He sat. Slaughter’s chest rose and fell, his soul gently touching an ancient stone.

Kent spoke. “You don’t have to do this, Jamie. You don’t have to take this chance.”

Jamie took a long, long time to reply. It’s what he wants; why not give your effort, your self to this fine young man, this officer for peace, and take your chances? If it doesn’t work out, you get to play with the Rickster through eternity. Kewl.

He was quite sure in every possible direction. Then he knew they were waiting on him, so he sat back, tossed his blond hair elaborately, “I assume we’re going to have some wireless mics!”