CHAPTER TWELVE #2
"That must be hard," Alison admitted. "You’re forced to use methods that you don't believe are the best methods, and when you are not consulting, you’re very vocal about the methods in your writings.
That has to create a feeling of distrust between you and the people you work for.
Perhaps you don't want to admit it, but that must cause some anger and resentment. "
"I’ll admit it freely," Dalton countered. "I am angry with them, and I do hold a lot of resentment, but if I’m to change the way we do things around here, I just have to be patient."
"Are you patient?" Hartley pushed.
Dalton rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Hartley.
"I didn’t kill anyone. I understand exactly why you brought me in.
You have someone running around killing people while criticizing the way cases were handled in the past, and then you have me, who is critical of the way cases are handled in the present. "
Dalton mimed trying to fit two ends of a cable together.
"And you try to make that fit. But it doesn’t, does it?
I’m critical of methods in general, while your killer is critical of specific cases, right?
And if what I’ve been told is true, it’s not only profiling that’s under the microscope.
I don't care about physical evidence. I care about what’s in the criminal’s mind and the patterns they create.
That’s how we get them when the physical evidence fails us.
The technology for analyzing physical evidence has improved, hasn’t it, Dr. Payne? "
Alison had a tightness in her chest. Dalton knew a lot about what had happened so far, and he obviously knew about the skin oil and DNA traces from her very first case. Alison still felt failure, but she wasn’t one to sulk about it. She would carry the burden, but alone.
"I’m glad that we can talk like this," Alison said. "You know more about the case than most people, so we don't have to beat around the bush at all. You’re well-versed on what’s going on."
Dalton smiled and let out a chuckle through his nose.
"I like how you work, Dr. Payne. Yes, I know some things about the case, but only what’s been relayed to me by local law enforcement, and I’m sure that they had details relayed to them from others.
So, I’m glad that the information coming to me is obviously accurate enough for you to believe I know details about the case.
Let me ask you this. Have I mentioned anything about the case that only the killer would know? "
It was Alison’s turn to laugh. "You’re not the one running this interview, Dr. Dalton."
"It’s a good way to shed blame," Hartley pointed out. "If you were the killer, and you had been fed information from colleagues, you would know which information to provide and which to keep to yourself. It almost makes you look more guilty."
Dalton let out a short chuckle. "This is what passes for an interrogation nowadays? It’s no wonder our criminal justice system is failing. Are you really claiming that because I haven’t supplied any details the killer would know, that it makes me the killer?"
"I’m not saying anything," Hartley said. "I’m only working through the evidence with the limited profiling we have at our disposal. Perhaps you can help us use some of your experimental methods to get to the truth."
"Now, you’re being facetious, Special Agent Hartley," Dalton told her.
"We don't have the time to go through everything I know. Besides, the two of you are doing just fine. I’m innocent, and nothing that’s been said in this room points to the alternative.
You don't need any fancy profiling or psychological forensics to see that.
So, do we need to continue this charade with your celebrity psychologist, or can I go? "
Alison bit her tongue on hearing those words; not metaphorically, but literally.
She had heard those words mentioned before by another psychologist, and she knew the sentiment was often born of jealousy.
Alison had made a name for herself over the past couple of years, but it wasn’t unjustified.
She’d brought in multiple serial killers, all while gaining some fame within the law enforcement community.
Hartley made a show of looking around the room, especially behind them.
"Sorry? Are you referring to Dr. Payne? The woman who almost single-handedly caught a dozen serial killers? Perhaps that does make her a celebrity in the world of serial killers. When they hear she’s on the case, they start to worry.
Are you worried, Dr. Dalton? Or are you just jealous? "
Dalton smiled, but it was a more hesitant, twitching smile this time. "I’m not afraid to admit that I’m jealous of Dr. Payne’s fame." He shot her a glance before looking back at Hartley. "I mean, who wouldn’t want that sort of success?"
"And it’s proof that the old methods work," Hartley said.
"Of course, the work. A lot of things work, but can still be improved upon," Dalton warned. "And because something is currently good or right, that doesn’t make it good or right forever. The world of criminal psychology is forever changing, and we will be left behind."
"And what better way to make that point than to leave a trail of dead bodies across the country," Hartley pointed out.
"Which I didn't do," Dalton countered. "And if I did, I would point out very different things. Come on, you both must see that? You can talk all you want about me knowing what to say or bluffing my way through this, but I’m not the killer, and if you had looked at the work I’m criticizing, you would see that. Dr. Payne?"
Alison looked at their suspect as he stared back at her with wide eyes.
"You’re supposedly the best profiler in the country," Dalton said. "Or the most well-known. Either way, you’re no fool. I know that for sure. When you consider everything about the case and what you know of me, what conclusion do you come to?"
Alison thought about it. She opened her mouth to give the answer, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. The door opened, and an agent entered.
"I’m sorry," the agent told them. "You need to come and see this."