Rules of Prey

hardwood forests and the transition zone into the deep green of the North Woods. The pilot dropped the aircraft beside a road intersection three hundred yards out from the cabin, and he and Lucas walked in with the manila envelopes full of photos. Carla was waiting by the back porch.
    “I was out in the boat and I heard the helicopter. I couldn’t think of anybody else that it might be for. What happened?” She looked curiously from one to the other.
    “We want you to look at some pictures,” Lucas said as they went inside. He gestured at the pilot. “This is Tony Rubella. He’s the helicopter pilot but he’s also a cop. I’m going to record the interview.”
    Lucas put his tape recorder on the table, said a few test words, ran the cassette back, and listened until he was satisfied that it was working. Then he started it again and read in the time, date, and place.
    “Conducting the interview is Lucas Davenport, lieutenant,Minneapolis Police Department, with Officer Anthony Rubella, Minneapolis Police Department. Interviewee is Miss Carla Ruiz of St. Paul. Carla Ruiz is well-known to Officer Davenport as the victim of an attack in her residence by a man believed to have committed a series of murders in the city of Minneapolis. We will show Ruiz a photo array of twelve men and ask if she recognizes any of them.”
    Lucas dumped a dozen photographs on the table, all of young men, all shot on the street, all vaguely similar in appearance, size, and dress. Eleven of them were cops or police-department clerical personnel. The twelfth was Smithe. Lucas arranged them in a single row and Carla leaned over them and studied the faces.
    “I know this guy for sure,” she said, tapping one of the cop photos. “He’s a cop. He works off-duty as a security guy at that grocery store at the bottom of Nicollet.”
    “Okay,” Lucas said for the recorder. “Miss Ruiz has identified one photo as a man she knows and she says she believes he is a police officer. Our data indicate that he is a police officer. I am asking Miss Ruiz to turn the photograph over, to mark it with the capital letter A, and to sign her name and put the date below it. Miss Ruiz, will you do that now?”
    Carla signed the photo and went back to the display. “This guy looks familiar,” she said, tapping the photo of Smithe. “I’ve seen him on the art scene, you know, openings, parties, that sort of thing. I don’t know why, but I’ve got it in my head that he’s gay. I think I might have been introduced to him.”
    “Okay. Are you sure about him?”
    “Pretty sure.”
    “Okay. Miss Ruiz has just identified the photograph of Jimmy Smithe. I will ask Miss Ruiz to mark that photograph on the back with a capital letter B and sign her name and the date.”
    Carla signed the second photo and Lucas asked her to look at the photo spread again.
    “I don’t see anybody else,” she said finally.
    “I am now showing Miss Ruiz seven additional photographs of Jimmy Smithe and asking her if she confirms her identification of him in the random spread.”
    Carla looked at the second group of photos and nodded.
    “Yes. I know him.”
    “Miss Ruiz has confirmed that she knows the suspect, Jimmy Smithe. She has also added details, such as she believes him to be homosexual and that he frequents art galleries and that she may have been introduced to him. Miss Ruiz, does anything else come to mind about Mr. Smithe?”
    “No, no, I really don’t know him. I remember him because he’s handsome and I got the impression that he’s intelligent.”
    “Okay. Anything else?”
    “No.”
    “Okay. That concludes the interview. Thank you, Miss Ruiz.” He punched the button on the tape, ran it back, listened to it, then took the cassette out of the recorder, put it back in its protective box, and slipped it into his pocket.
    “Now what?” Carla asked.
    “I’ve got to use the phone,” Lucas said. He went straight through to the chief.
    “Davenport? What?”
    “She knows him,” Lucas said. “Picked him out with no problem.”
    “We’re going to take him.”
    “Listen. Do it my way?”
    “I don’t know if we can, Lucas. The media’s got a smell of it.”
    “Who?”
    “Don Kennedy from TV3.”
    “Shit.” Kennedy and Jennifer were professional bedmates. “Okay. I’ll be back in an hour and a half. When are you taking him?”
    “We were waiting for your call. We’ve got a couple guys here and we’ll get the surveillance people. He’s