Suzanne’s desk.
“It’s justified,” she said.
“You have a call from Washington on line four. It sounded important.”
“Thanks. Oh, call down to security and tell them to escort Sean Rogan and Lucy Kincaid up when they get here. They’re apparently coming by with information they won’t tell me on the phone.” Her phone rang and she picked up the receiver again, looking at it carefully to make sure she hadn’t cracked it. “Agent Madeaux, Violent Crimes.”
“Agent Madeaux, this is Assistant Director Hans Vigo from D.C. I hope this isn’t a bad time?”
Suzanne automatically said, “No, of course not,” while her mind raced through all the reasons why an assistant director would be calling her, and why the name Hans Vigo sounded familiar. She had evidence at the lab on not only her current case, but several others; she had a case going to trial in three weeks and was awaiting expert testimony confirmation; then there was … Hans Vigo. Profiler. Lucy Kincaid had mentioned him yesterday.
All that ran through her mind in less than five seconds.
Vigo said, “I’ve been reading about your serial killer investigation and wanted to offer my assistance if you require it.”
“Um, great, thanks.” She was flustered by the call, but recovered quickly. “We have a suspect in custody, and I’m confident that BSU can handle any psych profile we might need for trial.”
“Of course, we have a terrific team down at Quantico. They told me you’d requested a profile a few weeks ago.”
“Yes, but I didn’t have lot of my evidence at that time.”
“Lee told me there wasn’t enough information for a good profile, but if you have additional evidence now, please send it down.”
“Dr. Vigo, may I ask why you have an interest in this case?”
“I had a call this morning about it, and it’s unusual enough that it intrigued me.”
Suzanne moved from simmering to boiling anger, but tried to keep it out of her voice. “Would that call have been from Lucy Kincaid?”
She must not have done a good enough job, because Vigo’s tone changed slightly from friendly to formal. “Ms. Kincaid called about another matter, and told me she was in New York.”
Just how connected was this young wannabe FBI agent? “And talked about my case? With all due respect, Dr. Vigo, I have ten years’ experience working cases just like this one, and I have one of the highest clearance rates in the Bureau.” She didn’t want to sound defensive, but she did. She backtracked a bit and added, “I appreciate your insight, and Ms. Kincaid seems like a smart woman, but if I fly off in ten different directions at once I’ll never be able to logically put this case together.”
“I agree,” he said. “I’ve looked at some of your cases, and your methodical approach to serial murders is outstanding. I certainly prefer such a straightforward method of investigation. Nine times out of ten it gets you exactly where you need to be to close the case.”
“Thank you, sir.” She didn’t have to wait long for the
“Occam’s razor-specifically, the principle of parsimony-suggests that the simplest explanation is more often the correct one. In crime analysis, we’ve seen this proven time and time again-and it’s why we look first to the husband when a wife is murdered, or to a male relative when a child is molested, for example.
“Behavioral science-profiling-works because we have a long history of crime and punishment in this country,” Vigo said. “We can look at what has occurred in the past and why, and coupled with our knowledge of human psychology determine-with amazing accuracy-the most likely victim type, or killer, in violent crimes, particularly serial crimes.
“In some cases, a killer defies conventional wisdom,” Vigo continued. “We focus on the obvious because in our training, the obvious is usually correct. When a woman is raped, we look to male offenders. When black women are killed, we look to a black offender. When four young women are killed at a party, we look to a male offender who knew all of them.”
Suzanne responded slowly. “Are you suggesting that I’m wrong about my primary suspect?”
“No, of course not. Clearly, Wade Barnett had the means and opportunity, and because he knew all four women he likely has motive, even if it’s unclear without more evidence or a confession what that might be. I’d just suggest that while you’re continuing to put together your case against him, you also continue working with the assumption that he’s innocent.”
Suzanne didn’t quite know what to say. “Dr. Vigo, my methods have never been questioned by headquarters. Perhaps you should be talking to my supervisor.”
“I’m so sorry, Agent Madeaux, I didn’t mean to sound critical. And sometimes I’m a bit tactless-I should have considered that we haven’t worked together before, and calling you up out of the blue must seem like I’m taking over the case. I’m still getting used to my title-titles make me nervous.”
“Do you think I have the wrong guy?” she asked bluntly.
“Yes,” he said simply.
Suzanne’s mood turned dark. “I’ll send you everything I have, Dr. Vigo.”
“Thank you, Agent Madeaux.”
“I guess I should thank
“I’ve been wrong before.”
He didn’t sound like he was wrong often. “I’m not releasing him.” She didn’t think she was wrong about Wade Barnett, but one thing Vigo said had stuck with her.
Offender. There was nothing in Wade Barnett’s background that showed violence against women. Not one accusation of rape or abuse, or a dismissed case. He was known to be a ladies’ man, a different woman on his arm all the time. Yet Suzanne couldn’t forget the photo mug of Barnett and Alanna Andrews that he kept in his drawer.
On the other hand, why didn’t he come forward? He had to have known the girl he had once cared about was dead.
“Of course not,” Hans said. “Keep him where he is. He may be guilty.”
“But you don’t think so.”
“I appreciate your taking my call, Suzanne. If anything jumps out at me when I receive the reports, I’ll call you.”
She gave him her cell phone number and hung up.
Suzanne didn’t know what to make of the conversation, and didn’t have time to think about it because security buzzed her to say that Rogan and Kincaid were here and where would she like to put them?
Her ego wanted to tell the guard to lock them up, but instead she said, “Conference 22C.”
TWENTY-THREE
As soon as Lucy stepped into the conference room, she knew something had happened to change Suzanne’s attitude. She was cool and off-putting, and Lucy wished she knew why. Was it because Sean hadn’t asked if they could come by? Lucy didn’t think that was a good enough reason, considering that when they’d called earlier, Suzanne had promised to call back in thirty minutes.
Still, this was a complex case and she was busy, and if Lucy understood anything about cops after living in a family full of them, it was that they didn’t like to be bossed around. And Sean could be bossy.
So Lucy started the conversation off by saying, “We’re sorry to drop in like this, but we think the information we found might help.”
Suzanne nodded. “By all means. I’m yours.”
Her easygoing tone contradicted her physical tension. Sean noticed; it was a subtle shift in his own posture that Lucy didn’t think Suzanne noticed. Suddenly, Lucy felt that she was in the middle of a silent battle.
