Gallery of the Dead

Forty-Two

Homicide Detective James Miller of the Tucson Police Department pushed his silver-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose before tucking his hands deep into his trouser pockets. For the next five minutes he attentively observed the handcuffed man sitting alone at the metal table on the other side of the two-way mirror.

‘James, what are you doing?’ Detective Edward Hill asked, as he joined his partner inside observation room one. After six years in the force, Hill had finally made detective for the Tucson PD just under a year ago. He was nine years Miller’s junior.

‘What does it look like I’m doing, Rookie?’ Miller replied, without looking back at Hill. Since their captain had paired them together eleven months ago, Miller had never called Detective Hill by any name other than ‘Rookie’.

‘What you always do before interrogating a suspect,’ Hill said, pausing by Miller’s side. He too rested his eyes on the enigmatic tall man with a shaved head, sitting at the metal table.

‘That’s why I like you, Rookie. You’re sharp. No wonder you made detective.’

Hill didn’t laugh at the joke. ‘Didn’t you hear what the captain said? The suspect is not to be interrogated by us. This isn’t our case, James. All we’ve got to do is keep him here until the FBI arrives.’

‘Yes, I heard the captain,’ Miller replied. ‘And if you want to play puppet to those jerks in black suits and stupid-looking aviator glasses, be my guest, Rookie, but I didn’t work my ass off to make homicide detective just so I could chaperone a murder suspect for the goddamn FBI. This guy was arrested in Catalina Foothills. If you’ve forgotten, that’s our jurisdiction. As far as I know, until we see any official paperwork, this is our case, not the Fed’s.’ Miller finally turned and faced Hill. ‘Have you seen any paperwork yet?’

Hill made a face at Miller. ‘No, but we both know it’s coming, so why do you want to waste time interrogating him, when we know that there will be nothing else we’ll be able to do after this? The case will be taken from us before the sun comes up. From what I’ve heard, the Feds are already on their way here.’

‘So we’d better get in there fast,’ Miller said, consulting his watch.

‘Are you dying for a kick in the balls?’ Hill asked, scratching his designer goatee. ‘Captain Suarez will have our asses for this. You know that, right?’

‘No he won’t. Actually, if we manage to piss off the FBI enough, he will probably take us out for a drink.’

Hill looked back at Miller dubiously.

‘The captain hates the Feds, Rookie. It’s something that goes back a long way. Someday you can ask him to tell you the story.’

Hill could believe that. He knew too many cops who didn’t see eye to eye with the FBI. For the next full minute, he observed the man on the other side of the two-way mirror.

‘Is he asleep?’ Hill asked with a frown.

‘That’s only one of this guy’s intriguing factors,’ Miller replied. ‘I’ve been standing here for almost ten minutes now and, apart from blinking, that guy hasn’t moved a muscle.’

‘What, really?’

‘Not a fucking inch, Rookie. No hand movement... No twitchy leg... No bouncing of the knee... No nervous scratch of the chin... No rotation of the neck... No tongue across the lips... Nothing. Not even the eyes moving from side to side. All he’s done since I got here is sit in that exact same position and stare at his hands. It’s like he’s in a trance or something. I have never seen anyone with that much focus, that much control, let alone a dude facing murder in the first.’

Hill bit his bottom lip and crossed his arms in front of his body.

‘Do we have a name yet?’ Miller asked.

Hill shook his head. ‘No. Nothing. He had no identification on him. No driver’s license. No credit cards. No wallet. Nothing.’

‘Fingerprints? Face recognition?’

‘Gave us zilch. He’s not in the system.’

‘And he isn’t talking.’

‘No,’ Hill confirmed. ‘Hasn’t said a word yet. We can’t even book him because we don’t have a name to book him under.’

‘That’s why this is a one-chance-in-a-lifetime kind o’ thing, Rookie,’ Miller said. ‘This is the kind of serial killer you only find in Hollywood movies; do you understand what I’m saying?’

‘Serial killer?’ Hill’s mesmerized eyes shot toward Miller. ‘That escalated fast. Why do you think he’s a serial killer?’

‘Rookie, don’t be so naive. Why do you think the Feds are on their way over here at this time of night, just hours after Mr. Solid Statue here has been arrested?’ Miller paused for a second. ‘Let me give you a tip — it’s not because he’s a wanted shoplifter.’

Hill’s attention returned to the man sitting in the interrogation room.

‘Let’s not lie to ourselves here, Rookie,’ Miller added, as he took off his blazer jacket and began rolling up his sleeves. ‘People like him are one of the main reasons why we joined the police force... why we fought so hard to become homicide detectives. I don’t know about you, but when I was a kid, I couldn’t get enough of movies about serial killers. I watched everything there was to watch because it fascinated me. It still does.’

Hill got a little closer to the glass.

‘This is Tucson, Rookie,’ Miller continued. ‘Sure, we’ve got crime here. We even have homicides, but we just don’t get this kind of stuff.’ He pointed at the man. ‘This is the kind of stuff books are written about and movies are made from.’ He unholstered his weapon and placed it on the table inside the observation room. ‘And here he is, sitting inside our interrogation room. Call me curious, but I for one would love to get inside his mind, even if for just a few minutes. Plus, I’m a great interrogator, you know that.’ He reached for the door.

‘Are you really going to go in there?’ Hill asked.

‘You bet.’

‘And you don’t think that the first thing he’s going to do is lawyer up? Actually, I’m surprised he hasn’t done that yet, but then again, he hasn’t said a word to anyone since he was arrested, James.’

‘I guess we’ll see, won’t we? By the way, there’s no need to hit the record button.’