Page 13 of Reclaiming his Honor
“My gut just tells me when to eat and poop.”
“I mean it, Flash. What kind of feeling did he give you?”
Flasher sighed heavily. “It might have been just me, but I never trusted the guy. Always seemed kind of phony, you know what I mean?”
“Phony, how?”
“Geez, I don’t know. Just fake. Like he didn’t really know what he was doing, like he was playing a role. But the brass seemed to like him. The other detectives, too.”
“How long did you work with him?”
“About two years. He showed up after we figured out we had a serial killer on the loose. Transferred in from somewhere else just to help with the case.”
“Anything else you can remember?”
Flasher wracked his brain and came up with a few other tidbits of info, but nothing that seemed to have a bearing on anything that mattered. When Sloan was satisfied Flasher didn’t have any further information, he thanked him and hung up. He walked back into Moto’s office. “Flasher worked with Turner on the Godak case. Said he transferred in when the shit hit the fan.”
Moto cocked his head. “That’s not right.” He took the file back from Sloan. “It says here, Turner came to the department two years before the Godak case. He supposedly received that commendation for bravery a full year before Godak killed his first victim.”
Sloan called Flasher back. “How sure are you about Turner’s start date? Are you sure he didn’t work at the department before the Godak case?”
“I’m positive. He took all us guys out for beers when he first got there, said he wanted to keep the lines of communication open, or some shit like that. I remember we talked about the Godak case that night.”
Sloan thanked him again and hung up. “So why does the personnel file of a detective who started working at the precinct after a murder case began, lie about being there longer?”
“Not to mention claim he was a highly decorated, respected officer. If that were true, just use his real records.”
“Sort of begs the question,” agreed Sloan. “If they didn’t use his real records, did he really have any prior employment records at all?”
“Well, that’s fucking terrifying.”
Sloan flipped through the folder again. “Who has access to personnel files?”
“It wasn’t hard to get. But legally, who should be in there? Administration. Higher-ups would have access.”
“What about Turner himself?”
Moto shook his head. “That should have been off-limits.”
“But not hard to get,” Sloan pointed out. “Somebody wanted the official paper trail to say Mike Turner belonged there and was highly qualified to be working on the Godak case, even if he wasn’t.”
“I may be able to access the logs. See who else has been in his personnel file and when.”
Sloan nodded. “Do it. I’ll call Mac and give him the update.” He checked his watch. “Or maybe I’ll let him sleep another hour first.”
“He’s awake. Mac doesn’t sleep for shit.”
“Really?”
Moto nodded. “Says sleep is for wussies. I think he’s clinically depressed.”
Sloan narrowed his eyes. Moto had a way of psychoanalyzing everyone. “You would.”
He picked up his phone and dialed his old commanding officer. And sure enough, Mac sounded wide awake on the other end of the line. “O’Brady.”
“We have that information you wanted on Detective Turner, Mac. You might need to wear boots to wade through the bullshit.”
He told Mac everything they knew, and what Moto was working on.
