CHAPTER TWELVE
Names were thrown around in the FBI offices, in the bullpen, and in Boston and Baltimore after Alison's information was shared with them as well.
A lot of the names were people who were disliked by others or might bear a grudge, as well as those who were inept at their jobs.
Alison reminded them that they were looking for someone smart, likely very good at their job, and someone who felt guilty about a past mistake they had committed out of ineptitude.
That guidance led to a suspect who fit the profile in many ways: Dr. Michael Dalton.
Alison and Special Agent Hartley looked through the viewing window and into the interview room where Dalton sat. He had been informed of his right to a lawyer, but he had refused one, stating that he had a team of lawyers on his books.
They were back in Boston, where Dalton lived and worked. One of the agents in the Boston office had worked with Dalton on a few occasions on different cases.
"Apparently, he was more than happy to come down here," Hartley commented. "Almost too happy. Does that give us anything?"
Alison looked through the window at Dalton, who sat facing them, his eyes wandering across the one-way glass.
His body looked loose, and he sat leaning slightly to his left.
There was no tension in his face, suggesting to Alison that he wasn’t nervous to be in there. That was his outward projection.
"I don't know," Alison admitted. "The killer must have a plan in place, in case we do interview them. They’re smart and connected to law enforcement. They must know there are other sorts of people around, no matter what they think of themselves. They have to have thought about what would happen if they were brought in. This doesn’t feel like a game they’d want to play with us, but you never know. What exactly are we dealing with here?"
"Dr. Michael Dalton," Hartley said. "From what they briefed me on, he’s a criminal psychologist who often consults with the FBI and local PD here, but he’s also very vocal about established profiling methods and the taught psychology behind them.
Still, he has his own consulting firm and has been published in multiple scientific magazines.
I spoke to the agent who brought him in, and I get the impression that Dalton follows conventions, but hides that by talking a lot about the instinct he has for crime. "
"He said that?" Alison asked.
"That’s what the agent told me," Hartley said. "Dalton will often talk about psychology being more of an art than a science and how he works off hunches."
"He must get results if they keep using him."
"He does," Hartley said. "He annoys a lot of people around here, but if he helps bring in criminals, no one really cares."
"All right, let’s see what he has to say for himself," Alison said.
They left the viewing room and went down the hallway to the interview room door. Hartley knocked on the door and opened it, leading Alison inside.
Dalton turned to them and smiled. "Oh, good, some service finally. I’ll have a coffee with three sugars and just a splash of cream."
"You certainly know how to make a good first impression," Hartley said as she made her way to one of the chairs facing Dalton.
"Aah, you’re the agents that’ll be interviewing me," Dalton said, making a show of hitting his forehead with the heel of his hand. "And here, I thought you were the maids. That makes far more sense. Well, let’s get to it. Ask your questions."
Hartley sat down and didn't say a word. Alison followed suit, sitting beside her and pretending to be interested in the tabletop. Dalton was obviously a man full of bluster who liked to antagonize, and by remaining quiet, they didn't give him the pleasure of that sort of interaction.
After about a minute had passed, Dalton spoke again. "It’s interesting being on this side of the table. I can't wait to see how you get the truth out of me."
Hartley still didn't respond and took the folder they had prepared for her and tilted it toward herself so Dalton couldn’t see inside when she opened it.
She remained silent as she looked through the file, and when she pointed to a black spot, Alison leaned in to take a look, then sat back and nodded.
"Mmm-hmm," Alison told her.
Dalton began to shift from side to side in his seat when they reached the two-minute mark, and he couldn’t keep silent once again.
"I know why you brought me in today," he said.
Hartley looked up at him but still didn’t say a word.
"You’re looking into the recent murders, and you think I have something to do with them. I don't believe I’ve heard anything as dumb as that, but there you go. So, are you going to ask your questions?"
"The agent who brought you in told you why you were being brought in," Hartley commented.
Dalton shrugged. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Hartley slowly picked up her pen and pointed it at Dalton. "You told us why you were brought in as if you had put it all together yourself, but you were told explicitly when the agent came to your door, and you were more than happy to come down here."
"I—" Dalton began.
"Why would you be so happy to come down here knowing you were a suspect in a multiple homicide?" Alison asked. "I wouldn’t be happy about that if I were you."
"Oh, you wouldn’t, would you? Does anything about me suggest that I’m happy?"
"Except for the fact that you were happy to come down here?" Hartley asked. "That’s a big giveaway for me. How about you, Dr. Payne?"
"Very big," Alison agreed.
"Ah, so you’re the great Alison Payne," Dalton commented, leaning forward in his chair. "Your picture was left at one of the crime scenes, wasn’t it?" He smiled.
"You tell me," Alison said.
"Why? Don't you know?" Dalton asked.
"I only want to know what you know, Dr. Dalton," Alison said.
Dalton folded his arms across his chest and sat back in his chair. "I couldn’t possibly go over everything I know; that would take far too long."
"That’s really funny," Hartley said to Alison dryly.
"Extremely," Alison replied. "We could do with lightening the mood after multiple murders."
Hartley turned back to Dalton. "Do you have any more of those?" she asked. "It’s nice to talk with someone who doesn’t get bogged down in the serious nature of the case."
"Yeah, someone who doesn’t take life too seriously," Alison agreed.
"All right, all right," Dalton said, sitting forward. "No need to be facetious."
"No?" Hartley asked. "Then what shall we be?"
"You’ve been very vocal about the profiling methods, not only in the city, but across the country," Alison cut in.
"I’ve done a lot of very sound consulting work for local law enforcement," Dalton said.
Hartley leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. "That wasn’t the question," she corrected. "We’re aware of the work you do with local police, but you're very vocal about the established methods. Both of those statements can be true."
"They are true," Dalton said. "What of it?"
"What is it you’ve been critical of?" Alison asked.
"I’m not going to get into it again." Dalton shook his head and sat back again, his arms folded and his legs spread wide. He sat slightly angled to them.
"That’s not really an option, Dr. Dalton," Hartley informed him. "Are you not willing to answer our questions? Should we call a lawyer for you?"
"Don't put words into my mouth," he complained. "I’ll answer any questions you have. I know how this works. What I mean is that whenever I talk about our profiling methods as a whole, people seem to think I’m some bitter and jaded psychologist who’s going against the grain."
"Is that true?" Alison asked.
Dalton turned to glare at her. "You’re not bad at this," he said, his upper lip twitching. "Do you just keep going at people until they get angry and snap?"
"Are you feeling angry?" Alison asked innocently as she tilted her head.
Dalton smiled, then bit his bottom lip. "My main criticism of modern profiling is that it’s still stuck in the past. A lot of what we base our techniques on is from scientists from the sixties and seventies.
There are so many modern experimental psychologists whose work is discounted because they are still in the early stages of experimentation.
We can't rely on what has worked in the past because criminals adapt to how we catch them. This evolution is currently moving faster than we can research. We will catch up, and for a time, we’ll be better, but crime and criminals will evolve again, and we’ll be playing catch-up. "
"Then, what do you suggest?" Alison asked, leaning forward.
Dalton sighed. "That’s the biggest question we face." He took a moment to ponder it, his eyes narrowing a little. "It’s hard to implement changes, I’ll admit that. A lot of what I’m reading is experimentation, but we can't confirm it until it’s used in real-world scenarios."
"Which means potentially using methods that don't work," Alison said.
"It’s a short-term loss for a long-term gain," Dalton pointed out.
"It could be a very big short-term loss," Alison told him. "I’ve sat on this side of the desk numerous times, and there’s no chance that I would use an experimental method that was more unreliable than the established method that might be limited. No one would take that risk."
Dalton smiled. "And that’s why I brand you all cowards."
"Have you been using these experimental methods when consulting with local police?" Hartley asked.
The smile dropped from Dalton’s face, and he sat back in his chair, folding his arms once more. "I have to stay in line, but the more I prove myself, the more freedom they give me. I will update our methods in this city, but it takes time."
Alison tapped her finger on the table. "Time that you told us is already running out."
"I do what I can," Dalton replied.