Mary: Detective Ward

A very light rain fell, dotting our windshield as we sat waiting for more information from the crime scene investigators. I told Josh that I could call him a cab to take him home, but he declined. The police didn't owe us anything-and my private investigator's license seemed to be more of a joke to them than anything-but we had been cooperative and I was working for a wealthy, somewhat high-profile client. Bottom line, I didn't have any other leads or interests, and if we we're on hand than there was at least a chance that we can could get something else out of them.

I was beginning to doubt if the police even remembered we were there, but then I saw the officer in charge of the case, Detective Ward, step from the building and fend off the two local television camera crews long enough to motion me over to his car. When we were both sitting in the front seat of his unmarked cruiser he just sat there for a while, slowly shaking his head. Finally he took a deep breath and simply said, "Come down to the St. Francis Police Department... I've got something you're going to want to see." Then he let me out, started his car and drove away.

Ten minutes later Josh and I were hustling into the precinct house- a grim, squat, fluorescent-lit cinder-block of a building. There were only three officers that I could see on duty, and all of them were working the phones, probably scrambling to stonewall the media as long as they could before the ghastly details of Mrs. Walentowicz's murder came to light. Seeing as everyone was busy we started to sit down, but then Detective Ward stuck his head out of an office door in the back of the room and wearily waved us over.

Detective Gary Ward was in his late forties or early fifties, with more salt than pepper close-cropped hair. When I spoke with him, it was a relief to see him looking as stunned as I felt about the days events. It was clear that while this was a veteran cop, the atrocity we'd witnessed was well out of even his comfort zone.

"I'm going to let you see a photocopy of a photograph taken at the crime scene. This copy is not going to leave this room. You may act on the information you receive from the photocopy, but you are not to tell anyone how or where you got it." He looked at Josh then and said with a sympathetic tone, "You were pretty out of it at the time, so I'm sure you don't remember... but I was on the scene the night of your parents' accident. My condolences."

Detective Ward reached into his jacket pocket and unfolded a letter-sized sheet of paper. "This is a copy of a crime-scene photograph taken today. They're going to be going over the original with everything they can throw at it for prints and whatever else they can get. They found it... it was crumpled up and jammed in the victim's mouth."

It was a picture of a semi truck. It was the big rig Mrs. Walentowicz had told me the night before was probably the one she saw driving away from the crash.