Postmortem(89)

I was sure my relief was visible. “However, if Amburgey or anyone else intends to make a big deal of the so-called leaks that may have come from your office computer, I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do about it. In truth, I feel strongly there’s a significant link between publicity and the killer’s activity. If sensitive information is resulting in more inflammatory stories and bigger headlines, then yes, Amburgey—or anybody else for that matter—may take what I objectively say and use it against your office.” He looked at me for a long moment. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“You’re saying you can’t defuse the bomb,” I replied, my spirits falling.

Leaning forward, he flatly told me, “I’m saying I can’t defuse a bomb I can’t even see. What bomb? Are you suggesting someone’s setting you up?”

“I don’t know,” I replied carefully. “All I can tell you is the city stands to have a lot of egg on its face because of the 911 call Lori Petersen made to the police right before she was murdered. You read about that?”

He nodded, his eyes interested.

“Amburgey called me in to discus the matter long before this morning’s story. Tanner was there. So was Boltz. They said there might be a scandal, a lawsuit. At this point, Amburgey mandated that all further information to the press would have to be routed through him. No comments whatsoever are to come from me. He said you think the leaks to the press, the subsequent stories are escalating the killer’s activities. I was questioned at length about the leaks, about the potentiality of their source being my office. I had no choice but to admit someone’s gotten into our data base.”

“I see.”

“As all this progressed,” I continued, “I began to get the unsettling impression if any scandal erupts, it’s going to be over what’s supposedly been happening inside my office. The implication: I’ve hurt the investigation, perhaps indirectly caused more women to die . . .” I paused. My voice was starting to rise. “In other words, I have visions of everyone ignoring the city’s screwup with the 911 call because everyone’s so busy being enraged with the OCME, with me.”

He made no comment.

I lamely added, “Maybe I’m getting bent over nothing.”

“Maybe not.”

It wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

“Theoretically,” he explained, “it could happen exactly as you’ve just outlined it. If certain parties wanted it to happen that way, because they’re trying to save their own skins. The medical examiner is an easy scapegoat. The public, in the main, doesn’t understand what the ME does, has rather ghastly, objectionable impressions and assumptions. People tend to resist the idea of someone cutting up a loved one’s body. They see it as mutilation, the final indignity—”

“Please,” I broke out.

He mildly went on, “You get my point.”

“All too well.”

“It’s a damn shame about the computer break-in.”

“Lord. It makes me wish we were still using typewriters.”

He stared through the window. “To get lawyerly with you, Kay.” His eyes drifted toward me, his face grim. “I propose you be very careful. But I strongly advise you not to get so caught up in this that you let it distract you from the investigation. Dirty politics, or the fear of them, can be unsettling to the point you can make mistakes sparing your antagonists the trouble of manufacturing them.”

The mislabeled slides flashed in my mind. My stomach knotted.

He added, “It’s like people on a sinking ship. They can become savage. Every man for himself. You don’t want to be in the way. You don’t want to put yourself in a vulnerable position when people are panicking. And people in Richmond are panicking.”

“Certain people are,” I agreed.

“Understandably. Lori Petersen’s death was preventable. The police made an unforgivable error when they didn’t give her 911 call a high priority. The killer hasn’t been caught. Women are continuing to die. The public is blaming the city officials, who in turn have to find someone else to blame. It’s the nature of the beast. If the police, the politicians, can pass the buck on down the line, they will.”

“On down the line and right to my doorstep,” I said bitterly, and I automatically thought of Cagney.

Would this have happened to him?

I knew what the answer was, and I voiced it out loud. “I can’t help but think I’m an easy mark because I’m a woman.”

“You’re a woman in a man’s world,” Fortosis replied. “You’ll always be considered an easy mark until the ole boys discover you have teeth. And you do have teeth.” He smiled. “Make sure they know it.”