by Josh Thomas
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 chanc
es. 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!”
***
A few minutes later, the chiefs of staff tried to excuse themselves, assuring the officers that their bosses would support the operation. Dr. Steve Helmreich asked for written documents instead, signed by the governor, mayor and U.S. attorney. Staff chiefs stared. “These folks will put their lives on the line, and they need not to be second-guessed by politicians after the fact.”
Steve had an authority about him. It came from Green River and Ann Arbor, a toughness seldom seen in academics. He wasn’t just an academic—he was a cop.
The staff chiefs agreed to request such documents. Captain Steve, Ph.D., asked for faxes “or we don’t move.” The pols couldn’t scurry out fast enough.
When they were gone Bulldog laughed. “I been waitin’ my whole life to see a politician’s ass put to the fire. Steve, come to Quincy County any day. We got some county commissioners we’d love to sic you on.” Hickman gave Bulldog five.
Slaughter suggested, “Let’s divide up strategy and tactics, logistics and personnel. Commander, what’s your preference?”
“Doc, help me out here, make sure I’m not leaving anything out. Great job, thank you. Committee heads are me, George and Bulldog. Phil, Julie and me on strategy and tactics. George, Chief Watson, Sheriff Grumwald and Sgt. Gillespie on personnel. Bulldog, Barry and Jack, you figure out what logistics and technology we need and report to me. Mr. Brown, coordinate with Bulldog on logistics if you want to have prosecutors there. Harvey, brief the media spokesperson. Doc, you’re my floating observer to make sure our committees mesh. Jamie, do you have input?”
“My concerns are technology and backup. I want to make sure that the personnel are capable of being Gay-friendly in the bars.” There was a pause here, official discomfort edging up slightly,the Gay Issue. “Chief Watson, Sheriff, I’m sure your personnel are well-trained for the police operation, but there are people skills to consider too. You’ve got to have guys, not women, in the bars, except at The ’69, and they have to be perfectly at ease. They can’t, uh…”
“Come strutting in like Marshall Dillon,” Kent finished. Jamie flashed him a grin.
“Right,” Watson said. “George, Sheriff Grumwald, Eamon and I will consult. This has to be a City-County-State Police team. There’s no guarantee where this scene will take place. Inside the old city we’re the leaders, if that’s acceptable; in the county the sheriff takes his territory. But all departments report to Cmdr. Kessler.” Indianapolis has an unusual political system; the city and county governments merged, in everything but police, fire and schools. Uni-Gov was designed to make sure White, Republican suburbanites could always outvote Black, urban Democrats, and schools stayed segregated. So a Federal judge ordered school busing.
“Right,” Kent ordered. “We’re going to follow normal jurisdictional lines as much as possible.” He liked commanding. He was good at it.
“Can I put that in writing too?” Steve asked. “Clarify the lines of authority and responsibility, that each jurisdiction has pledged to cooperate with the others? Very simple, a two-page document, but colleagues pledging to back each other up in this one operation?”
“You drive a pretty hard bargain, doctor,” Chief Watson frowned.
Helmreich stepped down for a second.“I don’t want to push it harder than I should, but you all need to know where everyone’s coming from, and it sounds to me like you’re heading that way anyway. All departments might work together better with a teamwork statement that clarifies everyone’s responsibilities. State police are the leaders, so only they will speak with the press?”
It was a new idea, one nobody had ever heard of before, this notion of putting things in writing. Chief Watson was right, it felt a little dangerous. But they were there to work together, and they were hungry for success. When no one spoke, Kent ordered, “If we get arrests, every department here will get full credit. Put that in writing, too, Doc.”
Jamie winked at Steve. Kent he couldn’t even look at.
They spent several minutes on police procedure. As an inside look, Jamie found it fascinating. He also wished he weren’t quite such an insider. Then it was time for committee meetings. “Jamie, you’re with me,” Kent said. He glanced at his watch. “Report back here at 1500 hours. Let
’s move.”
Jamie grabbed his camera case, asked for a favor.
They let him take a few shots, which Casey could use if he wanted. Then Kent insisted on one more, asked Harvey to point and shoot at the Task Force, Jamie standing in the middle, Kent’s and Bulldog’s arms on his shoulders, Jamie holding up his cassette; his other hand shyly around Kent’s waist, because he had no idea where else to put it.
***
After the meetings and the reconvening, Kent pulled Jamie aside and said, “The reason we want you at the bar is so we can protect you. We can’t have him confronting you alone a week from now at your Mom’s house, or back home in Columbus. For us to protect you we have to be there without him knowing it. It’s easier for us to protect you at a bar, where we can blend in and control the situation.”
“How do I set it up? What actions do I take?”
“With you being in a public place, it’s much harder for him to snatch you. I’ll have my eyes on you at all times. If he tries to get you direct, I’ll be there to apprehend him. He won’t get past me. Instead, he’ll have to grab somebody else, then offer to trade. All you have to do is see him, Jamie, let him see you.”
“How will he and I make contact afterwards?”
“Your Mom’s probably. Same way he contacted you before.”
“Then what?”
“Get us directions to the rendezvous. We get that, you split immediately.”
“How do I cover the story if I split?”
Kent stared, exasperated. “Forget the damn story, I’m trying to save your life!”
Jamie blazed back, “Why can’t I join you when you apprehend him?”
“You shouldn’t be anywhere near there.”
“If I’m with you I’ll be safe. Why can’t I be there?”
“I want you well back from the scene. You’re not allowed on the front lines.”
“I’m allowed to risk my life, but not be on the front lines? I want pictures of the arrest! I want to report the story without getting in danger, but without your holding me back from the action, either. Kent, I deserve that. You’re using me to try to arrest a serial killer. What do I get out of it, some merit badge six months from now?”
