“I’d say his neck is broken,”
Jesse said.
He put the cat back down.
“Peter,” Jesse said to the evidence
officer, “when you’ve done what you can do here, take the cat down to the vet and see what he died of. And dust that tag on him.”
Perkins nodded. Jesse stood and went into the police station.
He closed his office door and sat in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. “Slut” again, he thought. It didn’t fit with spray painting the cruiser, and it doesn’t fit with killing the cat. But of course it was not about the cruiser, Jesse knew that, or about the cat. It was about the police department and about somebody’s private connection to the word “slut.” Is it the whole department? Is it one cop? Is it me? Jesse laced his hands behind his head and let his mind go empty, letting the problem drift at the periphery of his consciousness, looking at it obliquely. He was still sitting, hands behind his head, feet up on the desk, lips pursed slightly, when Peter Perkins knocked on the door.
“Vet says the cat’s neck is
broken,” Perkins said. “Says he would have died immediately.”
Jesse nodded.
“There’s a little trace of dried blood on the cat’s claws.”
Perkins said. “Notenough really to do me much good, but
I figure Captain scratched the guy.“
“Can you get a blood type?”
“Not enough,” Perkins said.
“It’s microscopic.”
“How about state forensic?”
“For what,” Perkins .said. “A
felinicide?”
Jesse smiled slightly.
“Might be a little embarrassing, I guess.”
Perkins stood without speaking in front of Jesse’s desk.
“You find anything else?” Jesse said.
“No.”
Jesse waited.
“I,” Perkins started and stopped, looking for what he wanted to say. “I don’t like this thing, Jesse.”
“What thing?”
“The slut thing. The cruiser, now the cat.
It’s an escalation.‘’
“Yes,” Jesse said. “It
is.”
“Maybe this isn’t some kid.”
“Maybe not,” Jesse said.
“Maybe it’s serious,” Perkins
said.
“Maybe you need to take the microscopic blood samples into state forensic,” Jesse said.
“It’s still on the cat’s
claws,” Perkins said.
“So take the cat.”
“Jesus, Jesse.”
“I’ll call over there,” Jesse
said. “Sort of smooth the way for you.”
Perkins nodded. He was not happy.
“You think it could be important, Jesse?”
“I got no idea, Pete. I’m just trying to accumulate data.”
Perkins nodded. He wanted to say something else. But there wasn’t anything else to say. He hesitated another min ute, then turned to leave.
“I’ll get right on it,
