Kilbrick produced a theatrical look of revulsion. “Apart from the gory details, the real shocker to me is the way the whole case has been flipped upside down. Don’t you agree?”
“Totally.”
“I understand a lot of the credit goes to the district attorney and to a very special homicide detective attached to his department.”
“That’s absolutely true. In fact, just before this program I had a revealing conversation with DA Kline.”
“Great, Rory. Let’s run that tape right now.”
Gurney heard the side door out by the mudroom open and close. A minute later Madeleine came into the den.
She peered at his laptop screen. “What are you watching?”
“Live interview with Kline.”
She pulled a chair over and sat down.
The scene on the screen had shifted to a bare-bones interview setting. Kline and Kronck were sitting in chairs facing each other with a bookcase in the background. Kline appeared to have just gotten a haircut.
Kronck was leaning forward, in the middle of a sentence. “. . . a word that’s on everyone’s mind: ‘shocker’! Top cop becomes top suspect. And his son, who was your top suspect, has essentially been declared innocent. Our heads are spinning. Let me ask you the obvious question. If your view of the case today is right, how could you have been so wrong yesterday?”
Kline’s reaction was a pained smile. “That sounds like a simple question, Rory, but the reality isn’t simple at all. You have to remember that the earlier case hypothesis that zeroed in on Cory Payne for the sniper shootings and the Gort twins for the playground murders was a willful deception created by our current suspect. From the very beginning there was a concerted effort by WRPD leadership to mislead my office. This is not a matter of our misreading the case. What we’re dealing with is a vicious and devious betrayal of the public trust by a man whose sworn duty it was to treat that trust as sacred.”
“You make it sound like an act of real treachery.”
“I see it as a form of moral decay.”
“How deep in the department might that decay go?”
“That’s something we’re actively looking into.”
“Your resources must be stretched pretty thin. With so many unanswered questions about these terrible crimes, and who’s trustworthy and who’s not, not to mention the ongoing racial unrest in parts of White River, where’s the necessary manpower coming from?”
Kline moved uncomfortably in his chair. “The situation is actually well in hand.”
“Are there any plans to bring in the state police? Or the FBI, considering the possible hate-crime angle?”
“Not at this time.”
“So you’re saying you have all the resources you need?”
“I’m not just saying it, Rory, I know it for a fact.”
“You sound amazingly confident, considering what you’re facing. Four sensational murders—five now, counting the deputy chief. Wouldn’t it make sense to bring in the kind of expertise that the state police could offer? With all due respect, sir, yours is a rural county in which the typical crimes are drunk driving, minor drug offenses, and disturbing the peace. What you’re facing now is infinitely more complicated. Doesn’t that worry you?”
Kline took a deep breath. “Normally we don’t reveal staffing details, Rory, but for the sake of public confidence I want to put this expertise issue to rest. The fact is, our level of investigatory sophistication right now is unsurpassed. A key member of my current team happens to be Dave Gurney, the highly decorated detective who holds the record for the largest number of cleared homicide cases in the history of the New York City Police Department. I’m talking about close to a hundred homicides solved personally by this man—including famous serial murder cases. It’s through his relentless questioning and his insights that we’ve arrived at our current understanding of the situation in White River. You asked why I wasn’t bringing in state police investigators. The fact is, Dave Gurney has given advanced seminars on homicide investigation at the state police academy. So in the matter of expertise, we take a back seat to no one. We have the best there is.”
“That’s fascinating news. I’m impressed.”
Kline said nothing.
“I appreciate that your time is limited, sir, and I know you have a final message you want to leave with our viewers.”
“Yes, I do.” He gazed sternly into the camera. “Our top priority right now is locating Dell Beckert.”
A phone number appeared at the bottom of the screen.
Kline continued, “If you know anything about his whereabouts, or if you know anyone who does, please call this number. He may be driving a black Dodge Durango, New York plate number CBIIWRPD.”
The screen displayed the plate number, a photograph of Beckert in his police uniform, and the phone number.
Kline concluded, “If you have any information that might help us find this man, please call this number now. You don’t need to identify yourself unless you wish to. We just want whatever information you can provide. Thank you.”
The screen was filled briefly with just the phone number, which was then replaced by a live shot of Stacey Kilbrick and Rory Kronck at their news desk.
“Wow,” said Kilbrick. “The DA has some big-city talent in his little upstate department.”
“So it seems,” said Kronck.
“Hmm. How much do we know about this Dave Gurney?”
“We know that New York magazine ran a front-page profile on him a few years ago. The article title was ‘Supercop’—which I guess says it all.”
“So there’s no end to the surprises in this story. Great job, Rory.”
He produced a self-satisfied smirk.
“I’m Stacey Kilbrick for NewsBreakers. After these important messages I’ll be back with the latest battle over transgender troops serving in the U.S. Marine Corps.”
Gurney closed the “Live Stream” page and left the RAM website.
Madeleine was watching him. “Are you concerned about Kline going public with your involvement?”
He turned up his palms in a gesture of resignation. “I’d rather he hadn’t. But I don’t think he’s any happier about it than I am.”
“What do you mean?”
“Kline is not a credit sharer. He did it because he was trapped. Kronck was poking at the weakness of his resources and implying that he ought to bring in an outside agency, which Kline absolutely doesn’t want to do. He’s afraid it would be portrayed as a surrender on his part, and he wants to come out of this with a personal victory. Bragging about my background was a way to beat back Kronck’s suggestion that his department couldn’t handle the challenge.”
“I bet that Kilbrick woman tries to get you on her program.”
“It’ll be a snowy day in hell when I say yes to that.” He glanced at the time in the corner of the screen. “It’s twenty past six. You have any ideas about dinner?”
She frowned. “Tonight is my dinner meeting with the town political action group. You remember I told you about this, right?”
“I forgot it was tonight.”
“I may be late. Our discussions have a way of going on and on. There’s all sorts of stuff in the fridge. And pasta in the yellow cabinet.”
An hour later—as he was finishing the plate of spaghetti, diced tomatoes, zucchini, and Parmesan cheese he’d prepared for himself—he got a call from Cory Payne. There was a level of excitement in the young man’s voice that Gurney hadn’t heard before.
“Dave! Are you seeing the news stories on the internet?”