TOC page here.
We’ve received forensic details on the death of Bill Knight; now, let’s wrap this scene up quickly:
On their way out to the circle of cars, Purcell stopped them. “Same guy?”
Diana said, “Looks like it, sir. Writing looks the same; so do the ligature marks.”
“We’re going to have to deal with the media, and I mean soon. Those fucking kids. I don’t like drug prohibition laws, but I wish they hadn’t had the foresight to throw their weed away before they called us: we could drop some charges on them.” He pointed at Diana’s tablet. “AJC, Creative Loafing, all the TV channels have his picture up. They blurred the face, but still.”
Mustapha said, “Stall’em, Chief. We’ve got to do the notification.”
“That’ll work. But leave time to change clothes, because you’re both going to have to be at the press conference. And that will happen sooner rather than later. Mayor’s already out of bed.”
As they got to Mustapha’s Lexus, the reporters and their spotlights came running toward them. “Detectives!” shouted the guy from FOX, “Has the Reaper struck again?”
Diana had long ago learned to resist the reflex to shield herself from the spotlights. “A man has been killed. Until we’ve spoken with his family, we can’t comment further.”
“Show some respect,” muttered Mustapha as they got in the car.
Peachtree-Pine was only a few blocks away, but most of the reporters ran for their vans and began following the Lexus; it took half an hour and a couple of driving maneuvers that made even Diana close her eyes to lose the most tenacious of them. Just to be safe, they went back to the precinct and swapped cars for Diana’s.
Again, the media is everpresent, here. And not that helpful, like they might be in some cop novels.