Nailed by Joseph Flynn Read Free Book Online Page B

are going to work smart and hard and for as long as it takes. We are going to catch him.
    “As you can imagine, the mayor feels very strongly about this situation. As do the deputy chief and I. As, undoubtedly, do all of you. Every decent person abhors a killing. But, in my view, a murder offends a police officer more grievously than anyone else. A homicide mocks our pledge to protect the public. It violates our very sense of who we are.
    “It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to know that this killing has enormous potential for being sensationalized. Once that happens, it will become a media event and quite likely a political football. There will be great pressure on this department to solve the case quickly. So that the story will have a neat ending. So that the politics of the situation can be distilled and peddled to the voters.”
    Ron spoke here from personal experience, and again he paused to look at each and every one of his officers.
    “None of this is your concern. Any and all questions from anyone outside this department are to be referred to my office. This is not to cover anyone’s ass, it’s to free you from any distraction to doing your police work. I’ll remind you again. If the killer is still in our town, we will catch him
    “The first order of business is to identify the victim. If he was a resident, someone will know him. If he was a visitor, he had to have a means of transportation and probably a place to stay. I want the man’s picture shown at every hotel, motel, and campground in town. I want it shown at every eating place, from four-star to fast food. I want it shown at every grocery store and convenience store. I want it shown at every single place of business where this man might conceivably have walked in off the street.
    “And I want this done as quickly as possible without sacrificing due diligence. Because if we can’t identify him this way, we will go door-to-door to every residence in town. Sergeant Stanley will detail each officer’s initial assignment.”
    Ron laid the weight of one last stare from the chief on his cops.
    “As of now, you’re all working continuous shifts until we know who the victim is.”
     
    That Friday evening, Mayor Clay Steadman made Ron Ketchum’s job both easier and much more difficult. Since Goldstrike was in many ways the mayor’s town, that was his prerogative. He used the forum of the Clay Steadman Show to spread his message.
    Whenever the mayor was in town, not off making a movie, he appeared on the government access cable TV channel each weekday at 6:45 PM. Sometimes he discussed municipal ballot propositions on which the electorate would vote; sometimes he did movie reviews on upcoming films he’d seen at industry screenings; sometimes he just read the weather report and wished everyone a pleasant evening.
    It was his way of staying in touch, as broadly as possible, with his constituency.
    And his constituency watched faithfully, loving the fact that they alone got to see the only TV program that Clay Steadman would ever do. In homes, public places and even on electronics store displays, if a TV in Goldstrike was on at 6:45 PM, it was tuned to the Clay Steadman Show.
    That included the TV in Ron Ketchum’s office. As soon as the chief saw the look on the mayor’s face, he knew what Clay was going to do. It was all Ron could do to watch. But he knew he’d better, so he did.
    “I have something shocking to show you tonight, something horrible to talk about. So right now I’d like to give you parents out there a few seconds to shoo the kids out of the room. Any of you more impressionable adults might just want to turn off your sets, too.”
    Then the mayor simply focused his cold, blue, unblinking eyes on the camera. Ron counted to himself. Clay Steadman gave his audience ten seconds to follow his advice — a good deal longer than the three count he was famous for giving movie villains.
    Then the mayor held up a photograph and the TV