Page 5 of Catch Me If You Can (The Mancini Way)

“Come on stone we all know you’re supposed to have a superhuman brain or some shit but you’re wrong this time; this is our guy I feel it in my gut.” Thompson one of my staunchest adversaries was quick to shoot down my answer, nothing new there, there was no love lost between us. He was a chauvinistic asshole who’d thought it would be easy getting me into his bed because apparently the women back in his hometown of bum fuck USA thought he was hot shit. I’d been brutally honest in my rejection, he hadn’t been too appreciative of my candidness and has been a pain in my ass ever since.

I didn’t let the slur bother me. Though it was a well-known tactic some used to throw people off their guard. I’m not that easily led and what others thought didn’t necessarily have the desired effect on me; that’s probably why I’d gained the reputation of a stone cold bitch. Whatever; nothing deterred me from my purpose, nothing, not even the brief affair I’d had in college. When things had become too serious with Paul, and it had looked like I might be taken off track, I dropped the guy like a hot coal. That was my one and only foray into the shark infested waters called relationships. Somehow the other person always seemed to expect you to give up who you were to please them. With Paul things had started out well enough, the physical side of things were ok, nothing earth shattering like I’d heard bragged about, but then he’d started to become controlling and wanting more and more of my time. Instead I’d given him his walking papers and severed all ties. Some considered me heartless in the way I did things, the way I was so completely focused on getting ahead in my chosen field to the point that nothing else mattered in the least; that may be true. I do know a part of my heart died with my family that long ago day and if I had to be a heartless loner to find the one who ended them and brought this sorrow into my life then so be it. It has been my only reason for living all these years later and I won’t quit until I found him.

I gathered my thoughts collectively once more pulling everything in, Frank Connell was a little odd yes with his quiet unassuming manner, the way he seemed to always be trying desperately to disappear into himself, I’m sure many people found this strange; but being strange did not make you a mass murderer it just meant you were weary of your fellow man and knowing some of the shit I did who could blame him?

“This is our guy.” I pointed to the second screen at the man who stood out for me; I knew there would be an outcry, my choice is an upstanding citizen, the CEO of a leading brokerage firm; everything about him looks great on paper, well his professional and public files anyway but in interview I’d seen the taint on the shine. Though he’d been there not as a suspect but as a character witness for his nephew something about him had just jumped out at me. It wasn’t anything I could put into words as always with me, it came from a place beyond my control; that was partially problematic because my superiors dealt in logistics and data, two things I couldn’t always readily provide with my theories but thankfully my record has been stellar so far so my decisions garnered me at least an unbiased look instead of being shoved aside.

“You’ve got to be kidding me right, the uncle seriously?”

“Yes that’s my guy.” There was a lot of grumbling among the other occupants of the room but I wouldn’t back down just because no one else agreed. I didn’t look to any of them for support, that’s not my style, I’m a loner through and through and maybe that’s why the bureau had decided to send me out alone on my first field assignment. Now was not the time to think about that though, for more reasons than one.

“Mind telling me how you arrived at that agent Stone?”

I looked at my boss the director and took a deep breath. I might be gruff with everyone else but this man held my future in his hands and I never forgot that; so even though I might think some of his decisions were crap I still showed him the respect he was due. Director Durant is a very no nonsense military type in his late fifties early sixties. His salt and pepper hair was still worn shorn close to the scalp as a throwback to his days in the army. His light blue eyes could be in turn compassionate and stern and his gruff manner left no room for fuck ups. In all my dealings with him I’ve always been reminded of the strict disciplinarian type who would scold you bitterly one moment and feed you candy in the next.

“Okay Frank just seems too obvious to me like a red herring someone’s dangling in our faces. Nothing was ever left behind at the first ten scenes; the news leaked that we were closing in on our doer and suddenly he decides to get sloppy and leave transferable DNA? I don’t think so; so I backtracked from there, yes Frank knows this victim but not in the way that would call for him to be leaving DNA on her body in the way it was found. So how did it get there? Obviously by someone who knew both the victim and the accused, in order to have that access they had to be very close to both. Now the rapes eliminate a female UnSub so we’re left with a male. Let’s just say for the sake of argument that it isn’t the obvious Frank Connell who decided to leave parts of himself all over his last victim when he hasn’t done it before. So who do we have that’s a close male relative or friend who could have access to his DNA and also knew the victim? We’ve already ascertained that Frank has no friends; he’s a stay-at-home body who hangs around with his elderly mother and putters around in the basement with his woodwork. Okay so no male friends; as for relatives the only one we have is the uncle that’s in state and has any kind of contact, so with the elimination of friends and other family members due to time constraints we’re left with Samuel Connell.” Short and precise.

“Come on director, you’re not buying this are you? The guy’s the CEO of a fortune 500 company.” Thompson was to say the least furious with my assertions, he’d been on the same path for weeks now as well as the others who seemed okay with following along, me I’m not the following behind type. Yes I probably could’ve given them a heads up about my theory but I wasn’t here to hold their hands, and what would happen the next time when I wasn’t there? How would they find the right thread on their own and pull?

“Who was brought up on charges of rape at the age of nineteen while attending his Ivy League university; said charges were then dropped under very questionable circumstances.” I informed him.

“What, where did you get that information?”

My colleagues scrambled to find the information in their files.

“You’re not going to find it in there boys; I did the digging myself, you guys were so focused on Frank you dropped the ball and left all the little extras untouched. I turned every stone and that’s where I found Samuel Connell; your CEO was also suspected of beating an ex-girlfriend almost to death back in his early twenties. Again the charges were dropped under very obscure circumstances. Over the years there’ve been little bumps along the way but he’s had enough money and clout to keep them out of the public eye; and one last thing, Veronica Sharp our last victim told friends a couple weeks before her demise that she suspected him of criminal behavior; she never said what but intimated that she was giving serious thought to contacting the authorities.”

“We spoke to her neighbors and friends no one told us this.”

“It’s all in the approach boys.”

“You’re full of crap, over a thousand man hours can’t be wrong; you tell her director, there’s no way this guy did those things.”

Are you kidding me? This guy was seriously testing to become an agent and this was his thought process? He sounded like a petulant two year old that didn’t get his way and was about to throw himself to the floor and have a tantrum. I held my tongue because quite frankly there was nothing to say, I’d given it my best and even with all my drive that’s all I ever asked of myself.

“And you base your premise on what Agent Thompson?” The director who had been studying us finally broke his silence.

“He doesn’t fit the profile; first of all he’s at least twenty years older than the target age, he’s an upstanding member of the community and he’s married.”

“So was the Green River killer.”

Agent Thompson hung his head and threw up his hands in defeat. “I just don’t see it, do any of you guys?”

Ross, Gervais and Kowalski kept their mouths shut and looked pensive; that’s the way they’ve played it all throughout our time working this case not wanting to stick their necks out less they were wrong. Me I gave it my best and my all and if at the end of the day I was wrong then I sucked it up and combed through the case until I came to the right conclusion. It was more important to me to get it right than to get it fast or first.

“So your argument agent Thompson is that he doesn’t fit the profile; well now that’s why we’re here isn’t it? It’s a new day boys and girls now we have to profile the profile; let’s not forget there was a time in our history when it was believed that the shape of a man’s head decided his guilt or innocence, we’ve come a long way since those green days but we still have far yet to go.” He exited his chair and with hands clasped behind his back walked to the lone window overlooking the training fields.

“So what’re you saying director?”

“I’m saying agent Thompson that once again agent Stone has proven why she’s our shining new star; not only is she correct but her prognosis is spot on, what she did different to the rest of you is look beneath the surface. She didn’t just follow the textbook on this one she used her skills of elimination otherwise known as commonsense plain and simple. Good job agent Stone, now as for the rest of you we have work to do.” I got the official nod and without waiting around for the fallout I gathered my things and exited the room. No doubt I will hear about this later as the fact that I hadn’t shared my findings will be blamed for their failure, tough.

I’m glad that was over; that had been one of the toughest exercises so far in spite of the crumbs that were placed in our way to direct us to our conclusion which turns out was the wrong one. My fellow agents had proven how easy it is to accuse and convict the wrong person based on our need to believe that the more normal seeming upstanding citizen was always innocent while the society reject was always the guilty party. The fact that Frank Connell is a fat, balding middle-aged recluse painted him as guilty in their eyes; it was a sad fact that this kind of thinking had put many innocents behind bars and worse yet sent them to their deaths. I was willing to do everything I could to put a stop to such behaviors, one case at a time.

I left the building and headed to the cafeteria for some much-needed tea, yes I know, what federal agent or law enforcement officer worth their salt preferred tea instead of coffee? I couldn’t stomach the stuff it tasted like lead paint in my mouth. There was a lot of activity on the base this time of day, cadets going through their rigorous paces; the echo of gunfire could be heard off in the distance breaking that feeling of the serene one could sometimes get when walking these grounds. Surrounded by hundreds of acres of wooded land the Farm was a thing of beauty, it looked like any college campus in the country’s Midwest and in the fall rivaled it’s neighbors in beauty. I’d been here six months instead of the usual four because my case was a special one. I had been recruited into an accelerated special agent training program, which meant hundreds of hours of training. It wasn’t all physical training and firearms though they too were essential, but I had to study all aspects of crime and law enforcement, which had been my field of study at the University. It had been a grueling few months each day starting early and going on nonstop for twelve hours or sometimes more. I will miss it when I left, it was one of the only places that had felt like home in a very long time, I didn’t want to know what that said about me.

Chapter 4

Mancini

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