LITMIR.BIZ

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was followed by a big, hearty “Hello, Carl,” as I reached the counter. “Glad you’re back so soon.”

      I could tell by the look on his face that he had had just about as much media attention as he was going to allow for the rest of the year. I just smiled, turned to say something to Hester, and discovered that she’d disappeared. She’d probably ducked down the hall and into Dispatch. I was on my own.

      “Hi, Boss.”

      “He’s all yours, folks,” said Lamar, and headed for his office in the back of the building. He didn’t quite run.

      I’d pretty much managed to avoid all media attention over the years, mainly because I was afraid that if they got me talking I’d say too much. Especially the TV reporters. Not that I’m all that chatty, but I tend to get very enthusiastic about my work.

      “Detective Houseman?” asked a young, pretty TV reporter I saw on the tube just about every night. “I’m Judy Mercer, KNUG, and I’d like to ask a few questions…”

      “Bill Nylant here, and I’m with KYYQ…”

      “—Handy, with KK.NN…”

      I thought that maybe if we went outside in the cold, it would be shorter. “Come on out here, and I’ll be glad to answer some questions if I can.”

      Once on the front steps, I remembered that I was on closed-circuit TV at the dispatch center from out there. With sound. As if the media weren’t bad enough, our own people were now taping me, as well. Something for the Christmas party.

      The cameramen had the tripods set up, cameras attached, and the lights came on, right in my eyes.

      “Hey, do we need to do the cameras?”

      Judy Mercer answered first. “Well, detective, I’m sure you’ve noticed that this isn’t radio. We really like to have something to show.” She paused and then said, “If you’d like to take us to the scene, we could shoot footage of that, and leave you as a voice-over.”

      No way in hell, and she knew it.

      “Okay, just don’t get reflections off the top of my head. And I’m not a ‘detective,’ I’m an investigator.”

      They asked standard questions before they rolled tape. Just so I wouldn’t clutch on camera and cost them their footage.

      “We need at least fifteen seconds of clear voice from you on camera,” said Barbara Handy of KKNN. “We can do the parking lot and the jail for fill, and do our own narrative.”

      “Good. Okay, whenever you’re ready, we might as well get it over with,” I said.

      “So, and we’re rolling now,” said Judy Mercer. “Deputy Houseman, can you just give us an idea what happened here today?”

      I inhaled, held it for a second, and then said, “We received a call from the public that a body was on the roadway in the southern part of our county. The caller said that it appeared the victim was deceased, and that it appeared the victim had been shot.”

      “And what did you find when you responded?”

      “The report was quite accurate. The victim was dead, and the initial evidence suggested a gunshot wound.” Boy, I thought, did it ever.

      “Have you identified the victim yet?”

      “I won’t be able to tell you who the victim is until after the relatives have been notified.” I wasn’t going to be able to notify relatives until I knew who in the hell the victim was, either, but I couldn’t exactly say that.

      “Do you have any suspects yet?”

      “We’re investigating now. I can’t discuss that any further at this time.”

      “Has it been ruled a murder?”

      “No,” I said. “The autopsy results won’t be in for at least twenty-four hours.”

      “Thank you.”

      That was it for Judy Mercer. Each of the other two, in turn, asked about the same questions. Then they were done. It occurred to me, during the first interview with Mercer, that they didn’t care who or why so much as they needed the information to get to the stations. The tough questions could wait until later. That was all right with me.

      The media types sort of milled about for a few minutes, taping themselves with the jail and cop cars in the background. I beat a hasty retreat and went directly to Dispatch. Just as I suspected, the duty dispatcher, Martha Behrens, along with Sally, Hester, and Lamar, were all sitting there, watching the external monitor.

      “No popcorn?” I asked.

      “Nice job,” said Lamar. “I knew you could do it.”

      “The reflections off your bald top were pretty bad,” said Sally.

      “I’m surprised your nose isn’t growing,” came from Hester.

      Martha, who hadn’t been around us all that long, wisely said nothing. Her lack of tenure obviously didn’t interfere with her enjoyment of the comments made at my expense, though.

      “Being on TV doesn’t seem to bother you,” said Hester.

      “Naw.- Piece of cake,” I said.

      I made for the back room and my office, as if to take off my jacket and get started on my report. As soon as I got there, I picked up my phone and started to dial my home number to call my wife, Sue. I’d never been on TV before and sure didn’t want her to miss this. As I did so, I happened to glance at my watch. Ten twenty-six.

      The TV people were from either Cedar Rapids/Iowa City or Waterloo. Both were a good seventy miles from us. It was already too late to make the ten o’clock news.

      Decorum forgotten, I hung up the phone, hustled back out the main door, and almost knocked Judy Mercer over.

      “Hey!”

      “Sorry, sorry, but could you tell me if my bit will be on tonight?”

      She laughed. “No way. We haven’t got a link. We have to go back to the studio and uplink from there. We’ll send it in, but you won’t see it until tomorrow morning at six.”

      “Oh. Well, thanks anyway.”

      I hustled back into my office and called Sue.

      “Hello?”

      “Hi! Hey, guess who’s gonna be on TV?”

      “You?”

      “Absolutely!”

      “What’s happened?” She sounded as much concerned as anything else.

      I told her we’d had a homicide, and that I’d be late, but that I was going to be on TV as spokesman for the department. I also included the information that it would be aired at six A.M. Since she was a teacher, and just getting up at that hour, she might get a chance to see it.

      “Things are all right, though? “she asked.

      “Sure. Just a murder case.” I chuckled. “Nobody barricaded, or anything like that. Just have to use our heads and figure it out.”

      “Not one of my students, is it? “By that she meant any that she’d had for the last twenty years of teaching middle school English.

      “To be completely honest, I couldn’t tell, dear. Probably not, though.”

      She said she’d watch for me on the tube, and then told me there was some cold macaroni and cheese in the refrigerator. Being married over thirty years gives people a certain perspective.

      “Got it.”

      “Good night. I’ll miss you, but I’m really looking forward to seeing you on TV. If I knew anybody else up at that hour, I’d call them!”

      “It ain’t exactly prime time, but it’s better

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