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Darkly dreaming Dexter :: Lindsay Jeffry P.
Страница: 68 из 160It's important that you don't have anythingto lose.”
She snorted. “Glad I could help. 'Cause I'm there, Dexter. If I sink any lower in the department, I'll be making coffee for community relations. Where is this going, Dex?”
I closed my eyes and leaned all the way back in my chair. “You are going to go on record-with the captain and the department itself-as believing that Daryll Earl is the wrong man and that another murder is going to take place. You will present a couple of compelling reasons culled from your investigation, and you will be the laughingstock of Miami Metro for a little while.”
“I already am,” she said. “No big deal. But is there some reason for this?”
I shook my head. It was sometimes hard for me to believe she could be so naïve. “Sister dearest,” I said, “you don't truly believe Daryll Earl is guilty, do you?”
She didn't answer. I could hear her breathing and it occurred to me that she must be tired, too, every bit as tired as I was, but without the jolt of energy I got from being certain I was right. “Deb?”
“The guy confessed, Dexter,” she said at last, and I heard the utter fatigue in her voice. “I don't-I've been wrong before, even when- I mean, but he confessed . Doesn't that, that… Shit. Maybe we should just let it go, Dex.”
“Oh ye of little faith,” I said. “She's got the wrong guy, Deborah. And you are now going to rewrite the politics.”
“Sure I am.”
“Daryll Earl McHale is not it,” I said. “There's absolutely no doubt about it.”
“Even if you're right, so what?” she said.
Now it was my turn to blink and wonder. “Excuse me?”
“Well, look, if I'm this killer, why don't I realize I'm off the hook now? With this other guy arrested, the heat's off, you know. Why don't I just stop? Or even take off for someplace else and start over?”
“Impossible,” I said. “You don't understand how this guy thinks.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said. “How come you do?”
I chose to ignore that. “He's going to stay right here and he's going to kill again. He has to show us all what he thinks of us.”
“Which is what?”
“It's not good,” I admitted. “We've done something stupid by arresting an obvious twinky like Daryll Earl. That's funny.”
“Ha, ha,” Deb said with no amusement.
“But we've also insulted him. We've given this lowbrow brain-dead redneck all the credit for his work, which is like telling Jackson Pollock your six-year-old could have painted that.
She snorted. “Glad I could help. 'Cause I'm there, Dexter. If I sink any lower in the department, I'll be making coffee for community relations. Where is this going, Dex?”
I closed my eyes and leaned all the way back in my chair. “You are going to go on record-with the captain and the department itself-as believing that Daryll Earl is the wrong man and that another murder is going to take place. You will present a couple of compelling reasons culled from your investigation, and you will be the laughingstock of Miami Metro for a little while.”
“I already am,” she said. “No big deal. But is there some reason for this?”
I shook my head. It was sometimes hard for me to believe she could be so naïve. “Sister dearest,” I said, “you don't truly believe Daryll Earl is guilty, do you?”
She didn't answer. I could hear her breathing and it occurred to me that she must be tired, too, every bit as tired as I was, but without the jolt of energy I got from being certain I was right. “Deb?”
“The guy confessed, Dexter,” she said at last, and I heard the utter fatigue in her voice. “I don't-I've been wrong before, even when- I mean, but he confessed . Doesn't that, that… Shit. Maybe we should just let it go, Dex.”
“Oh ye of little faith,” I said. “She's got the wrong guy, Deborah. And you are now going to rewrite the politics.”
“Sure I am.”
“Daryll Earl McHale is not it,” I said. “There's absolutely no doubt about it.”
“Even if you're right, so what?” she said.
Now it was my turn to blink and wonder. “Excuse me?”
“Well, look, if I'm this killer, why don't I realize I'm off the hook now? With this other guy arrested, the heat's off, you know. Why don't I just stop? Or even take off for someplace else and start over?”
“Impossible,” I said. “You don't understand how this guy thinks.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said. “How come you do?”
I chose to ignore that. “He's going to stay right here and he's going to kill again. He has to show us all what he thinks of us.”
“Which is what?”
“It's not good,” I admitted. “We've done something stupid by arresting an obvious twinky like Daryll Earl. That's funny.”
“Ha, ha,” Deb said with no amusement.
“But we've also insulted him. We've given this lowbrow brain-dead redneck all the credit for his work, which is like telling Jackson Pollock your six-year-old could have painted that.