Code 61 - Donald Harstad [23]
“They really hate to get called in late,” finished Lamar.
We looked at each other.
“It's always best to be sure,” I said.
“True.”
We were both silent in our thoughts for a moment.
“Lamar, tell me the truth. Would you feel better if we called DCI?”
“Yep.”
I reached out and patted him on the shoulder. I'd never done that, but it seemed the right thing to do at the time. “Let's go make the call.” I certainly didn't want to leave him alone with the body.
As we were about halfway through the bedroom, Lamar said, “Hey, Carl?”
I stopped, and turned toward him. “Yeah?” I thought he'd found something.
“Get Hester. Request her by name, okay?” He paused, embarrassed. “I mean, I know Edie's dead … but I'd just like a female DCI agent on this one.”
“Sure.”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rolled newspaper. He handed it to me. “You might want to check out the article here, when you get a chance.”
“Okay.”
“I'm glad you're gonna get Hester.”
He meant Hester Gorse, Special Agent, Iowa DCI. Hester and our department went back a long way. She was one of the very best, without a doubt. And what he was trying to say was that he didn't feel too comfortable with male officers examining Edie's body, or going through her personal effects. He'd have to go with me, of course, but Hester would ease his mind just by her presence. The problem was, DCI almost never sent a specific agent on request. They had a rotational assignment procedure, generally based on agent availability, but also designed in part to provide a wide base of experience for their general crim agents. It also served to prevent any hint of collusion between the local requesting department and any specific DCI agent, defense attorneys occasionally being known to grasp at straws. We'd just have to see.
Borman directed me to the phone downstairs. I quietly told him to stick with Lamar. He nodded.
“Oh, and consider yourself assigned to the case until further notice. Authority Lamar.”
“Oh! Uh, thanks, Carl.”
“Think nothing of it. You need the experience. I need the help.”
The first DCI agent I talked with at the Cedar Falls district office wasn't sure, but thought Hester was at home. He gave me the home phone number of his boss, Alan Hummel. Lamar and I had known Al for nearly twenty years. I explained the situation, in some detail, emphasizing Lamar's relationship with the deceased, and the condition of the body.
“Boy, Carl. That's a shame. But you do need an agent because of the suspicious nature of the thing, right?”
“Yes.” Like I'd say differently.
“But you say it's a suicide?”
Well, that was what I'd said, standing in the hall of the huge house, and not being too sure just who was able to hear me. “This isn't a secure line.”
“Got it.” He paused. “Look, as far as I'm concerned, you've got Hester. I'll have State Radio give her a call. If she's not at home, they'll page her. I'll instruct them to contact your office as soon as they get an ETA.”
“Thanks, Al.” “And, Carl, be sure to tell Lamar he has my sympathy.”
As I hung up, I saw Toby, the young man from the front steps, standing in the room across the hall. He was staring at me.
“I hope that was a local call,” he said.
“Pardon me?”
“I said, I hope that was a local call,” he replied.
I've always found that, when dealing with someone who's trying to win the Junior Dickhead award, it's most rewarding to play things irritatingly straight, but vague.
“No, it was long distance,” I said, smiling. “Sorry to dash your hopes.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, but I held up my hand and dialed the sheriff's office.
“Hey, can you spring some more people for me up here … maybe two, if you can? Three or four'd be good. I've got folks moving around up here, and I have better things to do than control foot traffic.” The dispatcher said she'd try. “And,” I said, “Hester should be on her way up pretty soon.” Just a way to inform and alert the dispatcher