the last six years. I want to get inside your computer and look for the ones that might be the fakes, that might be our guy.”
“How do you propose doing that?” Fredrick said. “We’ve got several hundred cases on file.”
“The protocol that police departments fill out and send in, does it include the victim’s rank and position in the department?”
“Yes.”
“Then we first look at all homicide detectives who killed themselves. The theory I’m working with is that this person is killing homicide cops. Maybe it’s a hunted-turns-on-the-hunter sort of thing. I don’t know the psychology of it, but that’s where I’d start. With homicide cops. Once we have that breakout, we look at each case. We need the notes. The suicide notes. From—”
“That’s not on computer,” Fredrick said. “In each incidence, if we even have a copy of the note, it’s in the hard-copy protocols in file storage. The notes themselves aren’t part of the study unless they have some allusion to the pathology of the victim.”
“But you’ve kept the hard copies?”
“Yes, all of them. In file storage.”
“Then we go to them,” Warren chimed in excitedly.
His intrusion brought silence. Eventually, everyone’s eyes were drawn to Ford’s.
“One question,” the director finally said. “Does the FBI know about this?”
“At the moment, I can’t say for sure,” I said. “I know it is the intention of the Chicago and Denver police to retrace my steps and then, once they are satisfied that I am on the right path, they are going to call in the bureau. It will go from there.”
Ford nodded and said, “Mr. McEvoy, could you step out and wait in the reception area for me? I want to talk to Ms. Fredrick and Mr. Warren privately before making any decision on this matter.”
“No problem.” I stood up and headed to the door, where I hesitated and looked at Ford. “I hope . . . I mean . . . I hope we can do this. Anyway, thanks.”
Michael Warren’s face told the story before he said anything. I was sitting on a lumpy vinyl-covered couch in the reception area when he came down the hallway with downcast eyes. When he saw me he just shook his head.
“Let’s go back to my office,” he said.
I followed silently behind him and took the same seat I had before. He looked as dejected as I felt.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because he’s an asshole,” he whispered. “Because the Justice Department punches our ticket and the FBI is the Justice Department. It’s their study—they commissioned it. He’s not going to let you walk through it without telling them first. He’s not ever going to do anything that might knock the gravy train off the tracks. You said the wrong thing in there, Jack. You should have said the FBI was made aware of this and took a pass.”
“He wouldn’t have believed that.”
“The point is, he could’ve said he did. If it ever blew up on him that he was helping a reporter to information before the bureau, he could have just put it on you and said he thought the bureau passed.”
“So what now? I can’t just drop this.”
I wasn’t really asking him. I was asking myself.
“You got any sources in the bureau? Because I guarantee he’s in his office calling the bureau right now. Probably going right to Bob Backus.”
“Who’s that?”
“One of the big shots down there. The suicide project belongs to his team.”
“I think I know that name.”
“You probably know Bob Backus Sr. His father. He was some kind of supercop the bureau brought in years ago to help set up the Behavioral Science Services and the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program. I guess Bobby Jr. is trying to fill his shoes. The point is, as soon as Ford’s off the phone with him, Backus will shut this thing down. Your only way in will be through the bureau.”
I couldn’t think. I was totally backed into a corner. I stood up and started pacing in the small office.
“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this. This is my story . . . and I’m getting pushed out of it by some dopey guy in a beard who thinks he’s J. Edgar Hoover.”
“Nah, Nat Ford doesn’t wear dresses.”
“It’s not really that damn funny.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
I sat back down. He made no move to dismiss me, even though our business was done. It finally occurred to me what it was he expected me to do. I just wasn’t sure about how to ask. I’d never worked in Washington and didn’t