“We need at least fifteen seconds of clear voice from you on camera,” said Barbara Handy of KKNN. “We can do the parking lot and the jail for fill, and do our own narrative.”
“Good. Okay, whenever you’re ready, we might as well get it over with,” I said.
“So, and we’re rolling now,” said Judy Mercer. “Deputy Houseman, can you just give us an idea what happened here today?”
I inhaled, held it for a second, and then said, “We received a call from the public that a body was on the roadway in the southern part of our county. The caller said that it appeared the victim was deceased, and that it appeared the victim had been shot.”
“And what did you find when you responded?”
“The report was quite accurate. The victim was dead, and the initial evidence suggested a gunshot wound.” Boy, I thought, did it ever.
“Have you identified the victim yet?”
“I won’t be able to tell you who the victim is until after the relatives have been notified.” I wasn’t going to be able to notify relatives until I knew who in the hell the victim was, either, but I couldn’t exactly say that.
“Do you have any suspects yet?”
“We’re investigating now. I can’t discuss that any further at this time.”
“Has it been ruled a murder?”
“No,” I said. “The autopsy results won’t be in for at least twenty-four hours.”
“Thank you.”
That was it for Judy Mercer. Each of the other two, in turn, asked about the same questions. Then they were done. It occurred to me, during the first interview with Mercer, that they didn’t care who or why so much as they needed the information to get to the stations. The tough questions could wait until later. That was all right with me.
The media types sort of milled about for a few minutes, taping themselves with the jail and cop cars in the background. I beat a hasty retreat and went directly to Dispatch. Just as I suspected, the duty dispatcher, Martha Behrens, along with Sally, Hester, and Lamar, were all sitting there, watching the external monitor.
“No popcorn?” I asked.
“Nice job,” said Lamar. “I knew you could do it.”
“The reflections off your bald top were pretty bad,” said Sally.
“I’m surprised your nose isn’t growing,” came from Hester.
Martha, who hadn’t been around us all that long, wisely said nothing. Her lack of tenure obviously didn’t interfere with her enjoyment of the comments made at my expense, though.
“Being on TV doesn’t seem to bother you,” said Hester.
“Naw.- Piece of cake,” I said.
I made for the back room and my office, as if to take off my jacket and get started on my report. As soon as I got there, I picked up my phone and started to dial my home number to call my wife, Sue. I’d never been on TV before and sure didn’t want her to miss this. As I did so, I happened to glance at my watch. Ten twenty-six.
The TV people were from either Cedar Rapids/Iowa City or Waterloo. Both were a good seventy miles from us. It was already too late to make the ten o’clock news.
Decorum forgotten, I hung up the phone, hustled back out the main door, and almost knocked Judy Mercer over.
“Hey!”
“Sorry, sorry, but could you tell me if my bit will be on tonight?”
She laughed. “No way. We haven’t got a link. We have to go back to the studio and uplink from there. We’ll send it in, but you won’t see it until tomorrow morning at six.”
“Oh. Well, thanks anyway.”
I hustled back into my office and called Sue.
“Hello?”
“Hi! Hey, guess who’s gonna be on TV?”
“You?”
“Absolutely!”
“What’s happened?” She sounded as much concerned as anything else.
I told her we’d had a homicide, and that I’d be late, but that I was going to be on TV as spokesman for the department. I also included the information that it would be aired at six A.M. Since she was a teacher, and just getting up at that hour, she might get a chance to see it.
“Things are all right, though? “she asked.
“Sure. Just a murder case.” I chuckled. “Nobody barricaded, or anything like that. Just have to use our heads and figure it out.”
“Not one of my students, is it? “By that she meant any that she’d had for the last twenty years of teaching middle school English.
“To be completely honest, I couldn’t tell, dear. Probably not, though.”
She said she’d watch for me on the tube, and then told me there was some cold macaroni and cheese in the refrigerator. Being married over thirty years gives people a certain perspective.
“Got it.”
“Good night. I’ll miss you, but I’m really looking forward to seeing you on TV. If I knew anybody else up at that hour, I’d call them!”
“It ain’t exactly prime time, but it’s better than nothing.”
“Oh, it sure is. Did you ask for a copy of the tape?”
I hadn’t, but I made a note to do so as soon as I could next morning.
I went back through Dispatch on my way to the kitchen for some coffee, and was stopped by Martha, who was waving furiously at me from behind her console with one hand as she tried to write with the other and hold the phone to her ear with her shoulder.
“Yes sir, one moment,” she said into the phone. She pressed the hold button, and said, “It’s some dude for you, who says he knows who the body is. He won’t give his name.”
We had a fine phone installation in Dispatch, with a total of six instruments, two of which had full 911 capability and four where you could talk on any line you told the dispatcher to select for you. With twelve lines, we had lots of leeway unless things went to hell.
“Put me on this one,” I said, picking up one of the phones at the end of the console.
She did.
“Houseman here.”
“It was Rudy. Rudy Cueva,” said the muffled voice. Muffled or not, it sounded so much like Hector I almost called him by name.
I wasn’t able to connect any Rudy Cueva to anybody I knew. “Who is that?”
“He’s a team supervisor at the plant, man. A really smart dude.”
“What plant?” I knew, but if Hector wanted to play a game, he had a reason.
“The packing plant in Battenberg. That one.”
“How do you know it’s him? “This was going to be the telling point.
“I heard it just now, one of the workers in the kill room. He said that it was Rudy.”
The kill room was just that, the location in the packing plant where they did the actual killing of the livestock. “How did he find out?”
“I cannot say, man. You know that.”
There was absolutely no doubt that it was Hector, but if he wanted to remain officially anonymous, that was his choice. “Any idea why he was killed?”
There was a prolonged sigh on the other end of the line. “Because he knew something, and they dint want him to talk.” He was getting exasperated.
“And what was that?”
“I got to go, man,” and the line went dead.
“He hung up,” I told Martha and Hester. “That didn’t happen to be a 911 line, did it?”
Martha grinned. “It sure was. Cell phone, hit one of the two U.S. Cellular towers in Battenberg. Here.” She
