Violence by Timothy McDougall Read Free Book Online Page A

teenager hauled in for a DUI was in a crumpled heap on a bench inside a steel mesh cage that was not considered part of the actual detention sector.
    Crotty probably hated this part of his job more than any other aspect, the having to deal directly with victims in the aftermath of a horrific crime, but years on the force helped him hide that fact from people.
    Dispatch was the de facto nerve center of the station house. It was an area that could literally “stand alone” within specially secured walls and glass. It monitored and controlled every other section of the facility, including the Sally Port, prisoner monitoring, deliveries, as well as handling all 911 communications.
    Anderson could hear a woman’s voice inside Dispatch mentioning his home address just before he was able to see the side of her face as he passed an interior window. He couldn’t make out any other specifics as she was seated in one of those high-back ergonomically designed chairs before an array of consoles. It looked like there was another woman with a headset on duty in there, too, but the static bursts of radio-dispatch and interior ventilation fans in the Sally Port made it hard to hear anything else they were saying.
    Crotty had to check his sidearm before they could enter the Detention Area which was segregated from the rest of the building and weapon free for obvious reasons. A patrolman posted in a reinforced enclosure logged the weapon in and took both of their keys which Anderson and Crotty placed in the stainless-steel recessed metal dish under the window.
    “I appreciate your coming down here and I know I asked you before…” Crotty continued thoughtfully to Anderson. “…but are you sure you’re up to making an identification of these men? It can be quite overwhelming, seeing the ones who might’ve-.”
    “It’s fine.” Anderson answered abruptly, not making Crotty finish the sentence.
    “Thank you. It’s an immense help. If we can be reasonably certain these are the men…“ Crotty let that thought trail off but kept talking to keep Anderson engaged and keep the silences to a minimum. “Anyway, it’s a public safety issue as well. I also want to inform you we are being recorded right now, and will be inside the holding area. This is for your protection and ours. It’s important in major felony investigations that everything be documented so defendant’s lawyers cannot give differing versions of what occurred behind closed doors and say their client’s rights were violated.“
    The interior door buzzed and the lock disengaged. Crotty pulled it open and lead the way into the Detention section.
    Anderson followed him through the door and immediately came to a stop once he was on the other side. Crotty had paused to announce more instructions and give a lay of the land, but Anderson’s halting was more reflexive. It was almost as if Anderson could smell “them.” Animal-like, his nostrils flared. He was infused with a quiet burst of extra adrenaline. Anderson warily scanned the space as if he had crossed one of the rivers of the underworld and now stood firmly in Hell.
    “We have them in separate holding cells, isolated by sight and sound as required by law.” Crotty said pointing to the inner cellblock where half a dozen distinct chambers were visible via one-way glass. “We’ll bring them out one by one and you can take a good look at them. This is not an official line-up which many times later in court is deemed unnecessarily suggestive of criminality, no matter how they are performed. But we would like to know if you’re reasonably certain these are the men you believe were at your house earlier doing the landscaping you spoke about. There were what looked to be bloodstains on the clothing of one of the suspect’s, which we have impounded as evidence, but we can’t even be sure it is blood until a preliminary test is done. All in all, they have been cooperative to this point.”
    And Crotty was right about