The Other Path
Chapter 77
Kate gazes at Rick's screen as he pulls a small sheet of paper from his shirt pocket. "Is that your email from Boxey?"
"It is. I just have to decrypt it. But if the walls have ears, we shouldn't say anymore. I'll proceed with the information and see what I get."
"All right," Kate agrees. "But I hate having to work like this." She turns her eyes to the ceiling. "Do you hear that? If you think I'm anxious to help out sons of bitches who invade my home, you have another thing coming. Whatever I do on this case, I do because the body of a murdered man turned up in my jurisdiction. You should stick your noses overseas where they belong."
A crooked smile captures Rick's lips. "Feel better?"
"Not really. I probably shouldn't have said anything."
"Pregnancy hormones. You couldn't help it. I remember when Meredith popped off at a director whose ass she'd been kissing for months trying to get a part in a movie. She was kicking herself afterward, but everything she said to the jerk was true. If anything, it was an understatement. And the movie was a flop, so the hormones might have been on target. Yours are too. It's infuriating to think some agency could be invading our space and our lives. That's the best reason to get this case over as soon as possible."
"I won't be much help if I'm off teaching."
"The boys have picked up the slack before. And if they're not moving fast enough, I'll stumble into them with an open jar of peanut butter. Cronut can lick them until they get on the stick."
Kate giggles at the image. "All right. I'm going to go over how I'll be instructing my class tomorrow."
"Again."
"All right, again. I just want to do a good job."
"You always do."
Kate regards the recruits looking up at her expectantly. "You can't learn to shoot a weapon without spending time on the range. And you can't learn how to conduct an interrogation without sitting across from a suspect. Now some of you may have read texts on the subject, in addition to whatever you've found on the internet. And most of us grew up watching detectives grill the bad guys on cop shows. I'm here to tell you that for two reasons, you're going to have to toss a lot of that out the window.
"The first reason is that the traditional techniques, known as the Reid Method, were taught without any science or actual statistics to back them up. Unfortunately, the lack of science led to a 30% false confession rate. Aside from the misery those mistakes cause for the unjustly incarcerated, they also leave the real perpetrators on the street to commit more crimes.
"The methods with which you're familiar also employ a lot of false assumptions. What are some signs that someone is lying to you?" Hands shoot up. "Yes, Cadet Neely?"
"Crossed arms. They're a sign someone is protecting themselves and has something to hide."
"They can be," Kate allows, "but only about 50% of the time. You'd do just as well drawing your conclusion by flipping a coin. Anyone else? Cadet Gonzalez."
"Looking right."
"That's been the conventional wisdom since the 1970s. It was debunked at the beginning of this decade, but the word still hasn't reached many in law enforcement. So, who here plays poker?" A flurry of hands wave. "All right, Cadet Curry, when you join a game with players you've never met, do you automatically know their tells?"
"No, Ma'am. I'd have to play a while and watch."
"Right," Kate agrees. "It takes time to observe people's behaviors. And with good players, it may take a long time. An interrogation can be a similar situation. Don't assume you know a suspect's tells. But do go in with as much information as possible. Try to ask questions to which you know the answers so you can get a baseline for responses. And remember that baseline will vary from person to person. So let's start with people you should know pretty well. Who rooms with Cadet Curry? Cadet Goodard, good. Now, Cadet Curry, you're going to be the questioner. Cadet Goodard, you'll be the suspect. I'm going to give Cadet Curry a list of questions. Cadet Goodard will answer them, honestly or not. Then Cadet Curry can tell us when he thought she was lying. And I want all of you to keep score as well."
Curry raises his hand. "Detective Beckett, am I supposed to be good cop or bad cop?"
"Curry asks an excellent question," Kate notes. "None of you are good cops or bad cops. You're just cops. You don't physically threaten or bully. And as of this moment, the folks in Albany are looking at legislation to make it illegal for cops to lie. So don't consider that part of your arsenal. Now, Curry, Goodard, get up here. Let's get started."
"Did you check out your sites?" Ryan asks Esposito.
"Yeah. You wouldn't believe some of the apps they sell. There's one that allows guys to know what women around them check in to social media sites. It's like Stalkers R Us."
"The site I'm looking at could be worse," Ryan offers. "It has an app that allows you to import the texts from someone else's phone. But it also has an app that looks like the one Tori told Beckett about. Still, no way is Gates going to have the department pick up the tab. I thought I'd tell Castle. To him, a thing like that is pocket change."
"I don't know, Man. Beckett said she and Castle are trying to keep the investigation under wraps. She thinks someone may be bugging them. Maybe us too."
"You don't usually buy a suspicion like that," Ryan notes.
"From Castle, no. He sees spies in every shadow. But if Beckett thinks so, she may be right. So I'm thinking maybe we meet Castle somewhere. As long as he has his wallet out, we can get him to buy us lunch."
"I knew you had an angle. How about that new Japanese place that just opened up?" Ryan proposes.
Esposito snorts. "I'm not eating with those tiny chopsticks. How about the Rib Palace?"
"Fine."
"All right. I'll meet you guys at one o'clock. I need to get the pooch some company." Rick shoves his phone in his pocket and scratches Cronut behind the ears. "You're going to have a chance to play with Stromboli again. Mrs. Lucci said you could come anytime, and Mama Kate's buddies Kevin and Javi want me to have lunch with them. Actually, they probably want me to pay for their lunches, but it will be worth it if it helps solve Mama Kate's case. She'll be grumpy if the investigation slows down while she's at the academy. And we don't want a grumpy Mama Kate."
Cronut barks his agreement.
"OK. I'm going to take you to Mrs. Lucci's apartment. You and Stromboli have a good time. And I'll bring you a doggy bag when I come back." Tail wagging a mile a minute, Cronut gallops toward the door, almost banging into it. Rick smiles at the canine's enthusiasm. "I'll have to keep you away from my card games. Despite all the kitchy paintings, dogs would make lousy poker players."
