A veteran print reporter asked, "Is it true, Sergeant Ainslie, that you were once a priest? Is that how you know your way around the Bible?"
It was a subject Ainslie had hoped would not come up. While he had made no great secret of his past, few outside the Department knew of it. Anyway, he answered, "Yes, I was, so in that regard it helped."
Next a woman's voice. "Why did you stop being a priest and become a cop?"
"Leaving the priesthood was my personal choice, freely made. The reasons were private and not relevant here, so I won't discuss them." He smiled. "For the record, I left behind no misbehavior; my acceptance as a police officer should vouch for that." Despite the overlay of seriousness, there was some good-natured laughter.
Soon after, with many reporters eager to get going, the formal news conference broke up, though some reporters and TV crews stayed on, doing one-on-one interviews in both English and Spanish. Ainslie especially was in demand and remained an extra forty minutes. Even then, reporters followed him to his car, still filming and asking questions.
* * *
That same evening, and during the days that followed, Malcolm Ainslie was a prominent figure on television as his statements were featured, then repeated, interlaced with new developments. National network news reports carried the Cynthia Ernst story, with most depicting Ainslie as police spokesman. ABC's "Nightline" reported at length the mysterious murder-scene symbols and their biblical interpretation, once more with Ainslie as the star.
The print press covered the Ernst stories, too, showing interest in Ainslie's former priesthood. One probing reporter found a record of his doctoral degree and reputation as a scholar, mentioning Ainslie's joint authorship of Civilization's Evolving Beliefs, and that, too, was repeated around the country. His name appeared prominently in Newsweek and Time reports, and the national Sunday newspaper magazine, Parade, ran a cover story with the headline SCHOLARLY EX-PRIEST DETECTIVE LAUDED AS CRIME-SOLVING STAR.
The switchboard at Miami Police Headquarters received many calls from inquiring film and TV producers, all of it defying Assistant Chief Serrano's prediction that no one would emerge from the Ernst debacle smelling sweet. Quite clearly, Ainslie did.
"I really wish all this would stop," Ainslie confided to Leo Newbold.
"The way I hear, the guys up above us have the same feeling," Newbold replied.
Whatever their unease, everyone in authority was clearly relieved that there would be no harrowing trial of Cynthia Ernst.
* * *
A few days after the news conference, Ainslie relayed to Leo Newbold his wish to leave Homicide. Newbold was understanding and sympathetic. Many other detectives had traveled the same route, and it was accepted that longtime Homicide duty imposed emotional strains that eventually could be disabling. While Ainslie was awaiting word about new duty, Newbold removed him from current Homicide assignments and placed him in charge of "cold cases" old homicides being investigated with the aid of new technologies a productive but "low emotion" area.
After three weeks, Newbold stopped by Ainslie's desk and said, "Figueras wants to see you now."
* * *
"Hi, Sergeant Ainslie!" Major Figueras's secretary, Teodora Hernandez, greeted him as he entered the Criminal Investigations chief's outer office. "Before you go in," she asked, "would you do me a favor?"
"If I can, Teo."
"Well, my kids keep seeing you on the tube and reading about you. Then when I said I knew you, they got all excited, asked if I could get your autograph." She produced two white cards and held out a pen. "Would you mind?"
Embarrassed, he protested, "I'm not a celebrity."
"Oh yes, you are! Write 'For Petra' on one card and 'For gusto' on the other."
Taking the pen and cards, Ainslie scribbled the names and two signatures. He handed them back.
"I'll be a hero at home tonight," Teodora said as she led him toward the inner-office doorway, which, he noticed, was ajar.
Mark Figueras stood up as Ainslie came in, and he was grinning. "So, our celebrity! How does it feel?"
"Out of place, totally." Ainslie grimaced.
"Well, it won't stop soon. Can you live with it?"
"I suppose. But how about the Department, sir?"
"There might be a problem." Figueras gestured dismissively. "Anyway, forget the formality, Malcolm. This is a talk I've been instructed to have with you man-toman stuff. Oh, but first there is one piece of formality. You are Lieutenant Ainslie, as of this moment." He extended his hand. "Congratulations. A little late, maybe, but in the right direction."
Ainslie wondered what was coming. The promotion pleased him, and he wanted more than anything to phone Karen and share it with her. But he waited for Figueras.
"Career-wise, you're in good shape right now, Malcolm, and there are severe! routes you can go most of your own choosing. The first is to command Homicide." As Ainslie looked surprised, Figueras continued, "Leo Newbold is being made captain, and he'll move to a new assignment. In your case you'd normally move, too, but your record in Homicide is outstanding, and an exception could be made if that's your wish."
"It isn't." Ainslie shook his head. "I already told Leo why I want out."
"I'd heard that unofficially, and I understand it. We simply wanted you to know all the options."
The "we" was significant. Whatever Figueras was relaying had come from the top.
"Okay, let's weigh your future in the Department," the Criminal Investigations chief went on. "You've made lieutenant at age forty-one. In another three years you could be captain, and after that, at the chief's discretion, a major, though nothing's certain, and all of it a little late compared with others, because you were older than most when you started. So maybe at forty-six you'd be a major after fifteen years of service, and above that,-as you know, there are fewer jobs and the competition's tough. So you might go higher, but major could be your limit before retirement. I'm being frank with you, Malcolm."
"I prefer it that way."
"There's one other thing to be looked at, and I'm really leveling with you here. Recently you've had more public attention than probably anyone in the Department ever had before. One reason is that you've done spectacular work, especially in Homicide. But it was your old background as a~priest and scholar that the media jumped on, which brings me to a point."
Ainslie had a notion of what was coming.
"The thing is, Malcolm, because of all that attention, whatever you do in the Police Department now will be noticed by the media and probably magnified. Nothing really wrong in that, but to be truthful, the Department could be uncomfortable. As you know, few people here get consistent public attention, and that even includes the chief most of Miami's population probably don't know his name. That's how it's always been, and most of us would like to see it stay that way."
"Let's be clear about this," Ainslie said. "Are you telling me that despite all that's happened my promotion and the rest you'd really like me out of the force?"
"If it seems that way to you," Figueras said, "then I've done a lousy job, because that's the last thing I wanted to convey. But what most of us here do feel, Malcolm, is that what's left for you in the Department simply doesn't measure up to your abilities. What we'd like to see happen is for you to move on to something more advantageous to you, and that would make better use of your special talents."
"Trouble is," Ainslie said, "I haven't done much reading of the want ads lately. Looks as though I should."
Figueras laughed. " 'Want' is an appropriate word. The fact is and this is mostly what this talk is about an organization outside the Police Department has been in touch with the chief, the mayor, and maybe others, and wants you very much on highly favorable terms, I understand."