Steven Havill - The Fourth Time is Murder

Undersheriff Estelle Reyes-Guzman regarded the lengthy e-mail message, again finding herself intrigued. At the same time she wondered why, three weeks before when the message had first arrived from A Woman’s World magazine, she hadn’t just tapped the delete key. Since the day the e-mail had arrived, she had read the full text a dozen times, and repeatedly opened the four attachments that had arrived with it.

The first was a photograph of herself, taken three years before by Posadas Register publisher Frank Dayan. In that photo, Estelle was a bloody mess, standing with several other officers at the edge of the county’s landfill pit. She held a blood-soaked handkerchief to her upper lip. The photo of that night’s crime scene was dramatic and harsh, and Estelle had cringed when it appeared on the front page of the Register… and again when the image had blossomed on her computer screen as an e-mail attachment.

Another attachment included a brief interview with current Posadas County Manager Leona Spears, an interview that had appeared in an Albuquerque newspaper the year before. The article was as much about Estelle as anyone else, but at the time Estelle had been unable to contribute. Instead, she had been under intensive care in a metro hospital, tubed and drugged. Mercifully, there were no photographs of that, but the undersheriff remembered the intensive media coverage the case had generated. Of the shooting that had put her in the hospital, she remembered little. Not a very good track record, she thought.

The third and fourth offerings were single photographs, and one of them she glanced at only in passing-it was the official county portrait of Estelle as undersheriff that hung in the hall of the Public Safety Building along with the gallery of all the Sheriff’s Department staff.

The last photo, obviously taken by a professional, had been shot from backstage at the Cultural Center in Las Cruces in November. Her eight-year-old son sat at the keyboard of an enormous grand piano, the spotlights shooting reflective stars from the piano’s polished lacquer finish. His body leaned to the left, one hand poised over the bass keys, index finger targeting a single note to finish his presentation at the college recital. It was a gorgeous photo, dramatic, flattering, even exciting. Her son was impossibly handsome, caught in a shining moment as he and his audience were captivated by his music. The presence of that photo in company with the others had made her uneasy when it had first arrived, and did so again each time she opened the file.

She leaned back and rested her chin on steepled fingers, looking at the photo of her son until the screen saver preempted it. Touching the keyboard, she brought the picture back, then called up the e-mail again, reading it carefully as if it might somehow include messages that she had missed the first dozen times, messages concealed between the lines. The reporter’s interest had progressed beyond the idle curiosity stage-she had done some research, and her request for interviews was courteous and professional.

A week after that initial message and its attachments had arrived, Estelle had typed a careful response to the magazine reporter, heavy with bureaucratic disinterest.

Dear Ms. Bolles:

You are welcome to pursue any articles you wish about the Posadas County Sheriff’s Department, and we will be pleased to cooperate as time and policy permit.

Although we are a public agency and our work is a matter of public record, details of ongoing, open investigations are not routinely available for inspection or review by the public or the press.

Also, articles about individual employees are undertaken with the voluntary cooperation of each employee. Employees are under no obligation to discuss their work or their private lives with the press, although they may do so if they wish without review by, or permission from, department supervisors.

Due to the nature of our work, it is impossible to set a schedule of appointments. While we encourage civilian “ride-alongs” with patrol officers on an occasional basis, we do require that participating civilians obtain a waiver of liability from County Attorney John Sherman. We are in business 24/7, and staff will always be here to meet with you, workload permitting.

She grinned at the last sentence. “Most of the staff,” she amended aloud. She found it impossible to imagine “himself,” Posadas County sheriff Robert Torrez, agreeing to an interview with a reporter for A Woman’s World magazine…or any other magazine, for that matter, with the possible exception of Solitary Hunting . The Woman’s World reporter had a challenge waiting when she tried to interview the taciturn sheriff.

Predictably, the magazine’s interest would focus on the women in the department, but unless the reporter’s approach was just right, she wouldn’t have much more success with Deputy Jackie Taber than with the sheriff himself. Taber, an ex-military loner, preferred working the graveyard shift, where most of the time she was left alone with her own thoughts and supervision.

What photographer Linda Real would say-with her own hefty baggage of memories-was unpredictable. Chief Dispatcher and Office Manager Gayle Torrez, the sheriff’s wife, might be a useful ally for the reporter.

County Manager Leona Spears had made them all aware of the power of positive publicity, regardless of how it might be skewed. Estelle was sure there would be plenty of magazine copy to be generated by the flamboyant Leona. With her relentless promotion, more funding than ever before had been pried loose from the county legislature, and garnered from carefully authored grants. There might be still more to gain from coverage in a national magazine.

Still, Estelle had hesitated before sending her original e-mail reply, looking again at the photo of her son. The implications of that photograph being included were clear, she decided. But whatever the magazine editor’s real agenda was, it would not include little Francisco. That was certain. At age eight, the little boy didn’t need national media exposure, regardless of his prodigious talent.

Finally, after taking a week to let things settle and sift, and satisfied that her reply said what she intended, she had tapped send, with a copy of the original request and her response sent to the sheriff, who wouldn’t read it, to the county manager, who would bubble with enough relish and anticipation to make the county commissioners nervous, and to each member of the department.

That had been two weeks ago. Estelle had heard nothing from the magazine writer since then, and had even wondered if the idea had been abandoned. But that Friday morning, the second message arrived.

Good Morning, Undersheriff:

I’m delighted for the opportunity to talk with you and your staff. I plan to arrive in Posadas tomorrow, Saturday, Feb. 9th, and will touch base with you when I’m settled. I realize that this doesn’t give you much notice, but your response indicated that would not be a concern. We have had some scheduling issues at the magazine, and this window of opportunity recently opened for us.

I look forward to meeting you. If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to contact me.

Madelyn Bolles, associate editor

Estelle typed a brief, polite response acknowledging the message, then shut down the computer, unplugged it, and tucked it into its slim black nylon case. Taking a moment to survey her pleasantly cluttered desk, she ran down the mental list of things pending.