City of the Dead (Alex Delaware, #37)(45)

“Of course not.” The boy’s metallic-edged voice began at alto, dropped to baritone, then cracked and ended up as something you couldn’t characterize.

“Why of course?”

“They’d try to stop me so why would I tell them? Don’t worry, Lieutenant Sturgis. I checked and you’re allowed to talk to me without their consent because I’m here of my own volition.”

Milo suppressed a smile. “You got yourself a legal opinion?”

“Wikipedia,” said Aaron Blanding. “I find it for the most part accurate.”

Milo unlocked the office door and swung it wide. “As you can see, there’s no room for three of us in here, so how about we talk in one of the interview rooms.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “One of those dark places where you interrogate suspects?”

“Interview and interrogate,” said Milo.

“What’s the difference?”

“How we feel about the person we’re talking to. And FYI, Aaron, no one uses dark rooms. That’s movie bullsh— movie fantasy for visual drama.”

“Oh.” Grave expression, as if listening to a weighty lecture.

Milo said, “So you’re okay with that?”

“Sure. I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

“Then c’mon. Thanks, Detective Bogomil.”

Alicia saluted and hurried off toward the stairs.

The three of us took the same route, Aaron Blanding walking between Milo and me, bright-eyed and looking around like a spectator in an exotic zoo. Milo unlocked the second door we came to, switched on the lights, and began rearranging the layout from table in the corner meant to isolate and intimidate to three chairs arranged in an open triangle that said We’re all friends.

“Sit wherever you like, Aaron. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thanks, Lieutenant Sturgis.” Blue eyes studied fluorescent ceiling panels. “I see what you mean about light. Does it help?”

“Help with what?”

“Getting perpetrators to crack.”

“Hmm,” said Milo. “I guess if they come in already tired it might nudge them a little.”

“So you didn’t plan it that way.”

“Personally? No. This is basically government one oh one.”

Studious nod. “I should’ve known better. About the dark rooms. You’re right, in the movies it’s always dark with a spotlight shining down, but on the true-crime shows it’s like this…one thing I’ve noticed is that guilty people often try to fall asleep before they’re questioned. Why’s that?”

Milo looked at me.

I said, “They’re putting themselves in another place to avoid stress.”

“A dissociative reaction,” said Aaron. “That’s a psychological term.”

Milo said, “You know a lot about all kinds of things.”

“Not really, sir. I know a little about as many things as I can find out. My dad calls it a mile wide and an inch deep, says it would make me a perfect politician but please don’t go that route.”

“Let me guess: He wants you to be a doctor.”

“A physician,” said Aaron. “But I don’t like blood so I’m looking seriously at psychology.”

Milo grinned. “Then guess what, my friend, you came to the right place. This is Dr. Delaware, our consulting psychologist.”

The boy turned to me, wide-eyed. “Really? That’s exactly what I’d like to do. Do you find it stimulating and fascinating?” He blushed. “Stupid question, why would you be here if you didn’t?”

I smiled. “It can be intellectually challenging.” When it’s not boring or terrifying.

“Do you profile?”

“Not strictly speaking.”

“What do you mean?”

“Official profiles stem from the information at hand. Let’s say a profile is developed based on interviews with a group of incarcerated murderers. Which is exactly how the FBI started. They may not be representative of all murderers. On top of that, criminals lie. Most important, as new information comes in, patterns can shift. Not adjusting for that is called sampling error, Aaron. So anything too structured gives false confidence and raises the risk of a high error rate. Profiles get a lot of coverage. Kind of like dark rooms in movies. But they rarely solve crimes.”

“So what does?”

“Hard work, open eyes and minds, and often a whole lot of luck.”

“Hmm,” he said. “Okay, that makes sense. So what do you do?”

“I start every case from scratch, avoid tunnel vision, observe carefully, and do a lot of thinking.”

“Got it,” said Aaron Blanding. He scratched his head. “But was I right about dissociation?”

“Hundred percent. Good call.”

“Cool.”

Milo said, “How about we sit down.”





CHAPTER


    22


The seating triangle allowed everyone to look at two people. Milo had constructed it perfectly, with equal distance among the chairs.

Aaron Blanding nudged his chair slightly closer to mine. Kept sneaking looks at me.

Psychologus americanus. The animal in the exotic zoo.