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Authors: Glenn Trust

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The four tramped through the
sheriff’s outer office, past the desk deputy, receptionist, and office staff.
Curious heads looked up and nodded politely as they passed. There was no
acknowledgement. The day had been long. The results of the two murder
investigations, while making progress, had not provided any identification of
the killer or any other definitive lead. Sheriff Klineman had become more
agitated as the day progressed. Finding fault with nearly all of the actions
taken by the GBI and his own deputies, he was not a happy sheriff.

Granite faces and eyes focused
ahead, they passed through without speaking. Ronnie Kupman, the last man
through, closed the office door behind them as the others shuffled into the
seats around the small circular conference table. There was quiet while
everyone gathered their thoughts. The sheriff spoke first.

“Let me begin by saying that the
lack of coordination and cooperation today has disappointed me. The citizens of
Pickham County deserve better.”

“Really?” Shaklee’s tone was
bemused, feigning real curiosity. It was clear by the expressions on Sharon
Price and Ronnie Kupman that they all knew what was coming, and they were all
annoyed. Shaklee noticed that there was something else on Kupman’s face.
Disgust maybe. “Would you like to elaborate on that comment Sheriff?”

“Yes, I would. First, you begin
the investigations by insinuating that there is a Klan problem in Pickham
County; an insinuation that is an insult to all of the good people of the
county.” Price, who was tired of the day’s bullshit which had mostly emanated
from the sheriff, nearly came out of her chair, but Shaklee waved her down
while Klineman continued. “Do you have any idea the issues that such an
accusation could raise in the county?” Klineman paused as if waiting for some
acknowledgment from the group. Stony expressions greeted him. Glancing over at
Kupman, Shaklee noted that the look on his face was definitely one of disgust
mixed with something else. Contempt.

Hearing no comment, Klineman
continued, “Second, a body is found in our county with no proof that the murder
was committed in our county, and you immediately postulate that we have a
serial killer wandering the county. Such assumptions are not indicative of good
investigative work and would certainly send the wrong message if they became public.”

“What message would that be?”
Price asked, her annoyance growing.

“That Pickham is not a safe
place. A good place for people and families.”

“Really? A safe, family place
like Roydon?”

 “We may have our problem
spots. I’m sure every county in the state does, but in general…”

“Sheriff,” Price could not
contain herself any longer,” a place like Roydon does not exist unless someone
turns a blind eye to it. What happened in Pete’s Place today, overt threats to
a GBI investigator, is indicative of just how much attention you’ve
not
paid to that particular
problem spot.

“Agent Price, I am not going to
bandy words with you and I would remind you that I am still the chief law
enforcement officer in this county. Now, getting back to the point, I’ve seen
this before, when investigators
assume
that a certain theory of the
crime is correct and eliminate all other possibilities, never exploring avenues
of investigation that might be more productive and ,” there was a  pause
while the sheriff considered the next word, “…and beneficial. Case files are
replete with unsolved crimes because investigators would not look beyond their
preconceived theories, or they prosecuted the wrong person, adding miscarriage
of justice to their poor investigative skills.”

At that comment, Sharon Price
was
out of her chair standing over the others at the small table. “Are you
insane? Or are you living in another universe? We asked the questions that
needed to be asked. No insinuations were made. If you are that sensitive about
the issue of the Klan, maybe you should check around your county and clean up
your own house if necessary.” Price took a breath before speaking her next
words, and she spoke them through gritted teeth, trying to control her anger.
“Any fool would see that two murders in Pickham County on the same night might
possibly be connected; especially since there are not more than a couple of
murders a year in the entire county. Good investigators would ask the necessary
questions and follow the necessary leads. That doesn’t mean that there are no
other possible scenarios, but as this one is the most likely, it must be
eliminated or proven, and quickly, before moving on to other possible theories.
That’s what we’re doing.” Still seething, Price took a deep breath and sat down
again.

The thought occurred to Ronnie
Kupman that Klineman might be taping the conversation to edit later, ensuring
that he was seen only in the best possible light by the voters of the county
and removing himself from any connection with the possibly unfruitful murder
investigation. It was the kind of thing that Klineman would do. There was
something in the tone and manner of his words that made them seem to be
intended for someone beyond this room. He knew that, in reality, the sheriff
was primarily concerned with the sheriff first and the department secondarily.
He would want to ensure that both came out on the other side of the
investigation without any black eyes or embarrassment, and if possible, having
successfully found the killer; finding the killer, being the last of the three
priorities. Kupman glanced discreetly around the room wondering, until his eyes
found the sheriff whose face seemed to have taken on a serene quality with
Price’s outburst. Was that what he had wanted?

“Okay, okay,” Kupman interjected.
“Let’s calm down. It’s been a long day and night, for that matter. We’re all on
edge. It’s understandable.” Eyes still fixed on Klineman’s face, Kupman saw
that he was watching Price, his hands clasped together on the table like a
Buddha in a brown uniform.

“Is that all, Sheriff?” Shaklee
asked, wanting to hear it all before making any comment.

“As a matter of fact, it is not.”
Six eyes focused intently on him as he gazed around at the group. “In addition
to the lack of coordination and taking the investigation in directions that I
do not approve of or agree with, you have insisted on involving a member of
this department in your investigation whom I consider to be a marginal law
enforcement officer at best. You have acted against my wishes and against my
better judgment. In the spirit of cooperation, I have said nothing throughout
the day, but I feel it is time for this office to exert more control over the
investigation.”

Whom? Who the hell says ‘whom’?
Bob Shaklee’s expression was bemused. Ronnie Kupman, used to the sheriff’s
frequent bombast and pomposity, showed no surprise. Sharon Price could do
nothing but glare at the man, her loathing for him evident on her face. She
couldn’t have cared less what words he used. As far as she was concerned, they
were all bullshit.

“Dick.” Klineman’s head spun
around incredulously to face Kupman at the use of his first name with no title
attached. The flush in his face indicated that he was not pleased with the
familiarity in the midst of the ass chewing he was intent on delivering.
Unperturbed, Ronnie Kupman continued. “I suggest that you finish stating your
concerns and then allow Agents Shaklee and Price to respond.”

“Chief Deputy, are you taking
sides with them?” Klineman nodded to the two agents.

“I don’t believe there are any
sides to take. Just want to hear what everyone has to say,” Kupman replied
smiling. He seemed supremely at ease, while the sheriff‘s look of serenity had
been replaced by a rosy flush.

“Fine. You and I will speak
later.”

“Whenever you like, Sheriff.”
Ronnie smiled pleasantly.

Turning back to the GBI agents,
Klineman continued, “As I stated, George Mackey is a marginal deputy with
marginal skills. In my opinion, the investigation is going down paths that are
leading you away from apprehending the killer, partly because of his folksy,
overly dramatic interpretation of the evidence. And frankly, relying on
Mackey’s interpretation of evidence calls into question your own judgment.
Finally, none of this is serving the best interests of the citizens of Pickham
County and that is my primary concern.” This last statement was enunciated in a
clear, firm voice, slightly louder than the rest of the sheriff’s remarks.
Kupman and Shaklee couldn’t help exchanging raised eyebrows and simultaneously
looking around for the recording device that they were sure was present.

Klineman, no doubt assuming that
they were shocked at his firm control of the situation, continued. “As of this
moment, I am going to take supervisory control of the investigation.”

“Really?” Shaklee said coolly,
looking directly into the eyes of the sheriff. “And if we continue on the
investigative ‘path’ we are on, what will you do?”

“I will have you relieved.”

Shaklee almost laughed. “Is that
a fact? Perhaps I should enlighten you as to our roll here. We have been pulled
into this investigation because we have the resources to support local, rural
departments. Departments like yours, Sheriff.” He paused to let that sink in.
“If you didn’t need us, we wouldn’t be here. Frankly, our superiors would love
to get us off this case quickly. We have quite a substantial caseload as it is.
But here’s the rub. We are what you get. There is no bullpen for you to go to
and request another team. On top of that, there is enough evidence to suggest
that the perpetrator is not from Pickham County, which, in effect, makes it a
GBI case. In fact, with the additional evidence that Deputy Mackey has
provided, it appears that the killer may be passing through from Texas, or some
other state. That being the case, we would expect him to travel through a
number of Georgia counties and cities, and that definitely makes this our
case.” Shaklee stopped to let all of this register with Klineman.

“Now let me speak
frankly
to you…Dick.” Klineman’s face turned a deeper more purple shade of red, almost
maroon, Shaklee thought. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about your reelection. An
old man and young woman have been brutally murdered in
your
county. You
might want to consider the effect on the good citizens of Pickham County and
your political future if those crimes go unsolved.”

“I won’t tolerate…”

Shaklee cut him off. “You will
tolerate it Sheriff.” He smiled at the sheriff and spoke calmly as if reasoning
with a petulant child. “You have no choice. We have the resources and you
don’t. We can make things very uncomfortable for you in the press should there
be a lack of…shall we call it, mutual aid.”

Klineman could do nothing more
than blink. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was trying to
absorb the fact that Shaklee had just threatened him.

“But I will give you this
promise,” Shaklee continued, looking around the room for the recording device
he suspected was activated. He raised his voice a couple of decibels to make
sure that what he said was picked up by any unseen microphone. “I give you my
word Sheriff that when this case is solved, and I believe it will be, you will
personally receive full credit. If the investigation is a dead end, the GBI,
meaning I, will take the hit for it in the press. There will be no fallout for
you.”

“I don’t understand.” And the
look on Klineman’s face showed that he truly could not grasp the reality of
what he had just heard. Honesty and accountability were foreign concepts to
him.

“Understand this,” Sharon Price
threw at him. “We will give you full credit for solving the case. If we fail,
we will take all of the blame. I know that’s hard for you to comprehend, but
there it is.”

“One other thing,” Shaklee
continued smilingly. “In the spirit of
mutual aid
, we would like to have
one of your staff assigned to work with us on the investigation. As you have
pointed out, there are a number of investigative avenues to pursue. We could
use the help.”

Trying to recover some of his
dignity, Klineman squared his shoulders and cleared his throat before speaking.
“Well, I think having one of my staff assigned as part of our mutual aid
agreement in this investigation is important.” The pomposity was back in his
voice, and it was amusingly clear to the others at the table that you just
can’t keep a good politician down for long. “In light of the seriousness of the
matter, I am inclined to have my most seasoned and experienced deputy work with
you.” He turned towards Kupman continuing, “Chief Deputy please remove yourself
from your normal responsibilities and begin working exclusively with Agents
Shaklee and Price.”

As the sheriff concluded and
awaited acknowledgment from Kupman, Bob Shaklee clarified their request.

“Sorry Sheriff, I don’t think I
made myself clear. While we appreciate the offer of Chief Deputy Kupman’s
services, we would like to have George Mackey assigned to work with us.”

“He’s right. George has done some
good work on the case and has the continuity with both crime scenes,” Ronnie
Kupman added. “It’s the right move, Sheriff.” Kupman refrained from using
Klineman’s first name again figuring that there was no reason to rub his nose
in the dirt any more this day.

“Well, as I said earlier…”

“We know, we know,” Sharon Price
interrupted. Her temper was on a short fuse, getting shorter all the time.
“Mackey is a ‘marginal deputy with marginal skills’. That may be so, and if you
are right, we will take the blame. If he works out, you get the credit. It’s a
win win for you, so for god’s sake, let’s just move on.”

“Yes, well…”

This time Shaklee interrupted,
tiring of the word games. “It’s a done deal. We will take Mackey on the
assignment.” Then to help enlighten the sheriff and remove the puzzled look
from his face he added, “This is not a negotiation Sheriff. We will take
Mackey. My promise to you still holds, but taking Mackey is part of the deal.”

BOOK: Eyes of the Predator
5.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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