Daniel Annechino - Hypocrisy

“Negative. In fact, there’s no sign of a struggle. Not even a speck of dust under her fingernails. No bruises. Nothing except the bullets in her head. ”

“Anything else?” T.J. asked.

“You got what I got,” Butler said. “Have a lovely day.”

Considering all of the lies Hansen had told, Dupree didn’t believe that she would actually come to the precinct at noon—if at all. But as she reviewed the documents associated with the investigation, T.J. showed up with Hansen by his side.

“Thank you so much for coming, Ms. Hansen,” Dupree said, standing and offering her hand.

Hansen ignored the gesture, noticeably irritated. “Is this going to take long? I have a busy afternoon.”

Dupree could think of at least a dozen one-liners, but maintained her professional demeanor. “We’ll make it as quick as we can.”

Dupree and T.J. led Hansen down a long hall to an interview room. Except for a small beat up table and four chairs, the dimly lit room was pretty much empty. In the center of the table were two miniature microphones—one facing the detectives, the other pointing toward Maggie Hansen. Dupree glanced up at the video camera mounted on the wall near the ceiling to be sure the red light was flashing.

“Do I need a lawyer?”

“Do you want one?” T.J. asked.

Hansen seemed to be weighing the option. “I can request one at any time, correct?”

“Absolutely,” T.J. said.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” Hansen said.

T.J. eyed Dupree and she knew that he was signaling her to take the lead.

“Do you know a Jonathan Lentz, Ms. Hansen?”

The question didn’t even faze her. “I do.”

“What is your relationship with him?” Dupree asked.

“We had an affair.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“We met. We liked each other. So we fucked. That’s not a crime is it?”

Dupree could tell that this would be a difficult interview. “When you two met, did you know that Mr. Lentz was romantically involved with Dr. Crawford?”

“ Involved ? They were dating, but no one considered it a real relationship.”

“Why do you say that?” Dupree asked.

“Because Dr. Crawford didn’t have time for a relationship. She didn’t have time for anything but her research. Jonathan was really frustrated. When we met at the holiday party, we both felt an instant chemistry.” She rolled her eyes. “What is it with these frigid broads that they think they can keep a man without spreading their legs? I mean really. Isn’t this the twenty-first century?”

“Sounds to me,” T.J. said, “like you resented Dr. Crawford.”

“You mean pity? As I told you when we first spoke, I admired what Dr. Crawford was trying to do professionally . But working for her was hell.”

“Did you believe that Mr. Lentz would end his relationship with Dr. Crawford to be with you?” Dupree asked.

“I’m not an idiot. I knew that I was just a temporary plaything to Jonathan. But that was okay. Because all he was to me was a good lay.”

Hansen rolled up her shirt sleeves and wiped one across her forehead. “Doesn’t the city pay for air conditioning? This place is like a sauna.”

Dupree noticed faded black and blue marks on both of Hansen’s wrists. “Tell me, Ms. Hansen, what are those marks on your wrists?”

For the first time since entering the interview room, Hansen actually looked amused. “Oh, they’re just the remains of a memorable evening.”

That Hansen would answer the question so casually puzzled Dupree. She had expected a more challenging response.

“Can you elaborate?” Dupree said.

“Let me put it this way. Johnny enjoyed being creative in the bedroom, so even though I wasn’t totally comfortable with his requests…”

“For how long did Mr. Lentz and you… date?” Dupree asked.

“Until he said that he wanted to reconcile with her .”

“I sense a great deal of hostility in you,” T.J. said. “Perhaps enough to make you want to hurt Dr. Crawford?”

Hansen stood up, knocking her chair backwards. “I think this interview is over.”

“We’re not finished, Ms. Hansen,” Dupree said. “Now please sit down.” Dupree gave her a frigid stare.

Hansen hesitated, but then picked up the chair and sat down.

“Let me rephrase the question,” T.J. said. “Did you think about physically hurting Dr. Crawford?”

“You two really don’t pay attention, do you? Like I said before, I would guess that everyone who worked for Dr. Crawford fantasized about smacking her.”

“But you had more motivation to harm her than your colleagues did.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Well,” T.J. said, “Dr. Crawford fired you, she reclaimed her boyfriend, and you passed on a career opportunity with Hyland Laboratories that would have doubled your salary. If that isn’t the Triple Crown, I don’t know what is.”

Hansen’s eyes were seething. Dupree expected another outburst.

Before Hansen had a chance to calm down, Dupree kept the pressure on. She never bought into the good-cop-bad-cop strategy. Through her interrogative experiences, bad-cop-bad-cop was much more effective. If you can rile a suspect’s emotions and keep the pressure on, sometimes they say something stupid—something that incriminates them. And once the words slip off their tongue, they’re already a matter of record.

“Have you ever beaten up another person?” Dupree asked.

Hansen actually forced a laugh that was more mocking than sincere. “Forgive the cliché, but I wouldn’t hurt a fucking flea. I am a total pacifist.”

“I think that Tammy Chambers would disagree,” T.J. said. “You might know her as Tammy Holtz.”

The color drained from Hansen’s face. “That was a… long time ago. We were… just kids. I don’t even remember what the fight was about.”

“Let me refresh your memory,” T.J. said. “Tammy and you were roommates and were dating the same guy. Starting to come back to you?”

“Okay, okay, so we got into a bit of a pushing match—”

“You broke her nose, Ms. Hansen,” Dupree said. “Sounds like more than a little spat.”

“I didn’t do anything to hurt Dr. Crawford. So, if you have evidence to the contrary and want to charge me with something, go ahead and do it. Otherwise, this interview is over.”

“Just one more question,” Dupree said, “and you can be on your way. When we spoke to you last time, you led us to believe that you were a few months away from poverty. Are your bank records going to support that statement?”

“I’m done with this conversation!” Hansen stood up and made a beeline for the door, slamming it behind her.

“Geez,” T.J. said. “She didn’t even say goodbye.”

“And I was just getting warmed up,” Dupree said. “Any thoughts?”

“She’s one screwed up scientist, but I don’t think she has the stomach for murder.”

“But she still might have dirt under her fingernails,” Dupree added. “Let’s go check out Dr. Crawford’s place.”

T.J. and Dupree cruised up and down Plaza Street West until they found a parking spot reasonably close to Dr. Crawford’s building. As soon as they reached the front door, the unusually tall doorman they’d seen before opened the door and greeted them with a warm smile.

He tipped his hat. “You two are the detectives who were here the other day, aren’t you?”

“We are,” Dupree said. “We’d like to speak with Mr. Cardone, please.”

Before the doorman had a chance to pick up the telephone and page the superintendent, Mr. Cardone stepped off the elevator. He was about to head in the other direction, but when he spotted the two detectives he did an about-face.