Perfect Murder, Perfect Town - Lawrence Schiller [94]
He ended by saying, “This is not going to be quick, in the face of this most difficult situation, as Alex pointed out—there are none bigger than this, that have gotten this kind of scrutiny. But you [police officers] have stood the tests, and you have responded professionally. You are true professionals, in the genuine sense of that word.
“And I think you could hear in Alex’s voice, and I think for those of you who know me, you know that when I say this, I mean this: I truly love the people in my organization, and what they have been able to produce and what they have been able to withstand.” Koby had taken just four minutes—much less time than Hunter.
The first question was addressed to Hunter: If the pool of suspects was narrowing, who still remained?
“I’m not going to get into whether it’s ten people or a hundred. It’s narrowed…. Significant progress is being made.”
Then, inevitably, Hunter was asked about his David-and-Goliath analogy, his contention that his team wouldn’t be overpowered. Who was Goliath in this case?
Hunter avoided naming an adversary. “Who is Goliath?” someone repeated. “Who is your opposition?”
Hunter wouldn’t budge. “There is no formal opposition.”
“What kind of opponent is anticipated? Someone with lots of money?”
Hunter hesitated, unsure of himself for the first time. “The question’s loaded…. I don’t care who, ultimately, I come down on, but I’m going to be ready to match the resources of anyone because I think the case deserves that. So let me just put it simply: This case…deserves that we do the very best we can, bring in the best people. And that’s what we’re going to do.”
Koby was asked about the DNA evidence.
“Next question,” he said.
“Is the police focus inside or outside the Ramsey family?”
Koby again replied, “Next question.”
When he was asked if this case put his professional future on the line, the chief’s aide terminated the press conference. But Koby decided to speak further: “I was raised as a chief under the tutelage of Lee P. Brown, who was the chief in Atlanta, the Houston commissioner, and the New York drug czar, and Lee taught me three things about media management. One of them was, Don’t answer stupid questions. Professional media people should ask you good questions. You don’t have an obligation to reach down to the level of a dumb question.
“The second thing is, Don’t answer questions that lead to speculation. Many careers and lives have been ruined by media speculation. And you have an obligation, I have an obligation, not to contribute to that phenomenon.
“And thirdly, Lee taught me, Don’t answer questions that compromise your objective, particularly in a criminal case. So when we have questions that we don’t respond to, what I am using is those criteria that Lee Brown drove into me long and hard over the years that I worked with him.”
There was laughter in the audience—some nervous, some exasperated. At the end of the conference the consensus was that Koby had not handled the press well.
Later that evening, a reporter called Bill Wise to chat informally about Alex Hunter’s performance.
“Yeah, I just talked to Hunter a few minutes ago,” Wise said. “I told him, ‘Gee, you must know something I don’t know to have sounded so confident.’ Hunter then gives me one of these sheepish looks and says, ‘Well, I might have gotten a little carried away.’”
The members of the press had seen some posturing, some play-acting from Hunter. Nevertheless, when the reporter who spoke to Wise talked with a friend later, he was caught up in Hunter’s enthusiasm. “I think they’re going to get this guy after all,” he said, not sure whether “this guy” was John Ramsey or a mystery intruder. “They’re going to get him.” For the moment, at least, he had bought into Hunter’s bravado.
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