Chapter 18
CHAPTER
Chief pittman looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Senior detectives Kurtz and Diehl did as well. Even Sampson was giving me a high eyebrow.
“The Son of Sam?” Pittman said. “You mean David Berkowitz? I’m pretty sure he’s still in Attica.”
“He’s at Sullivan Correctional, actually,” I said. “And I didn’t say our killer was the Son of Sam. I said he thinks he’s the Son of Sam.”
“Gimme a break, Cross,” Diehl said.
“Okay, maybe he doesn’t think he’s Berkowitz full-time, but he is undoubtedly following the MO of the killer who terrorized New York in 1977.”
“Challenge,” Detective Kurtz said. “I have close friends who worked that case. I know a lot about it, and this does not look like Berkowitz. His first victims were not a male and a female, they were two women in a car talking.”
“One killed,” I said. “One wounded. The survivor was able to describe her assailant, just like Abby did for us.”
Pittman shook his head. “That’s not enough to say he’s a copycat Berkowitz.”
“There’s more,” I said. “The gun used to kill Conrad Talbot was a straight forty-four, probably a Charter Arms Bulldog, and the bullet was definitely the same kind that Berkowitz used, a two-hundred-and-forty-six-grain boattail.”
“Probably a Charter Arms Bulldog?” Kurtz said.
“Forensics says there was gunpowder residue on the window consistent with someone shooting a relatively inaccurate short-barreled forty-four, such as a Charter Arms Bulldog, which is what Berkowitz used.”
Diehl said, “I’m still not buying it. Next you’ll be telling us there were satanic symbols found around the car.”
“I’m sure Detective Kurtz can tell you that Berkowitz was messing with the police with those symbols,” I said. “And what he said about hearing the Labrador retriever Sam commanding his son to kill and all the satanic stuff? Not true—he didn’t hear anything. He made it up.”
Kurtz nodded. “I’ll give you that, Cross. What else you got?”
“The angle of approach. Like Berkowitz, this guy planned his approach to take advantage of the blind spot in the car’s side-view mirror.”
Pittman said, “Conrad’s killer did that?”
I nodded. “Check the diagram of his footprints.”
“Who told you Berkowitz moved so he’d be in the mirror’s blind spot?” Kurtz said.
“Berkowitz,” I said.
Sampson said, “Alex interviewed him for his PhD dissertation.”
Kurtz said, “Yeah? Is it true he got religion in the stir?”
“That’s what he claims.”
The chief said, “You’ve got to give me more than that, Cross.”
“One more thing,” I said. “The Forty-Four-Caliber Killer targeted victims in lovers’ lanes. Exactly what that pullout on the Potomac could be considered.”
Pittman sat there a few moments chewing on the evidence to support my theory, but even I could see the flaws. There were a lot of probablys in my argument.
“Still thin, Cross,” the chief said at last. “And I don’t want to set the public off by saying we’re investigating a Berkowitz wannabe in the killing of Conrad Talbot without concrete proof.”
“I don’t think we should tell the public anything at this point,” I said. “We keep it in the backs of our minds. If I’m right, there’ll be more evidence surfacing. If I’m not, nothing else will come up and I’m just an overeager rookie.”
“Smells like that flip side,” Diehl said, and she left.
Kurtz looked at me, said, “Dr. Cross,” with an ironic emphasis on the Dr., and followed Diehl out.
Sampson and I started to leave too.
“Cross,” Chief Pittman said. “Stay, please.”
When Sampson was gone and the door was shut, the chief said, “I took a huge risk, bringing you in the way I did, Cross.”
“Yes, sir, I know that, and I deeply appreciate it.”
“I felt, and feel, that this department—every big-city police department, for that matter—should have someone with your background. Someone who knows how criminals think.”
“I agree.”
“Then why is the first thing you bring me a theory with rickety support about a copycat of a guy who’s been incarcerated for over a decade?
If this gets out, it’s going to spread like wildfire in the department, and there’s already enough bad will toward you among the rank and file.
You don’t want to throw gas on the fire. ”
I blinked several times. “I didn’t know anyone had bad will toward me.”
“It’s because you didn’t come up through the ranks, and they resent that, evidently.”
I didn’t know what to say. “I promise you it won’t happen again. Next time I come to you with a theory, it will be bombproof.”
“See that it is, Detective Cross,” Pittman said. “Dismissed.”