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Chapter 41: Personality Traits of Serial Killers
By evening, word came from the station that Wenner had returned.
The two men rushed back immediately.
Bernie hurried to Wenner's office to brief him on the situation while Theodore took the evidence to the forensic lab.
Samuel wasn't there.
He'd apparently gone north to attend a friend's son's wedding.
Theodore had serious doubts about Samuel's apprentices' capabilities, but with time running short, he had no choice but to give them detailed instructions and hope for the best.
As soon as he returned to the bullpen, Bernie pulled him into Wenner's office.
Wenner's expression was grave, his face drawn tight with concern. Instead of asking for evidence as usual, he cut straight to the point.
"According to your, uh, deduction, where did he hide Sam?"
"Does Sam still have a chance of surviving?"
Theodore skipped the complex analysis of identity substitution and gave a direct answer. "Yes. He should still be alive."
"Carlos Mendoza feeds his fantasy by impersonating others to play police officer," Theodore explained.
"Before Sam, it was probably his grandfather."
"He might have worn his grandfather's equipment and impersonated a patrol officer to walk the streets. If any of our patrol officers caught him in the act..."
Wenner immediately grabbed the phone and called Cahill.
With the new Deputy Police Chief now installed, Cahill had lost even more influence and had reverted to his normal, subdued demeanor.
Previously, as Deputy Police Chief, he could boss Wenner around, chew him out publicly, and maintain an untouchable position.
But his insistence on pursuing his reform agenda and getting personally involved had cost him everything.
Now, he not only didn't dare scold Wenner, but he had to be especially polite.
Wenner had no time for pleasantries and demanded the patrol officers' duty records immediately.
By the time the Patrol Department delivered boxes upon boxes of files, Wenner had already briefed the entire Homicide Team on Sam's disappearance, and every detective was standing by.
The duty records were distributed at once, and soon the bullpen filled with the sound of rustling papers.
"The person we're looking for is named Carlos Mendoza, and he may be using aliases," Wenner announced to the room.
"He's wearing vintage police equipment and a 1910-model badge."
"He's driving a modified police car equipped with a radio that can access police frequencies."
"His activity range includes the Mexican community, Rose Street, the area near the Old Gun Bar, and the vicinity of Red Maple Street and Longhorn Street."
Red Maple Street was where Carlos's grandfather used to patrol.
Longhorn Street ran between Red Maple Street and the Mexican community, the same area where Carlos's parents were murdered and his grandfather was later targeted for retaliation.
Wenner read Theodore's conclusions almost verbatim, not changing a single word.
He paced back and forth across the bullpen, repeating the key points, before returning to his office.
He left his door open, never one for privacy, and while calling Chief Weideke, he unwrapped two chocolate balls and popped them in his mouth.
After securing authorization from the Chief, he fumbled through his desk drawer, only to find it empty.
Wenner clicked his tongue in annoyance. Ever since Theodore joined the Homicide Team, it seemed like the chocolate supply was disappearing faster and faster.
The bullpen fell quiet except for the whisper of turning pages.
While police impersonators weren't common, the Patrol Department's records were like unorganized ledgers, completely unsorted.
Worse, the patrol officers' handwriting was mostly illegible scrawl, requiring considerable effort to decipher even basic entries.
The result was painfully slow progress.
Wenner had his own copy of the duty records and realized the problem after flipping through just two pages.
Rather than put all his eggs in one basket, he contacted Cahill again, requesting that the Patrol Department assist in the active search for Carlos.
Cahill agreed readily, hoping Wenner would remember the favor.
The anxious waiting stretched deep into the night.
The duty records were gradually combed through, but they found no one matching the description.
The few police impersonation reports they did uncover turned out to be teenage pranks.
The bullpen grew oppressive, the atmosphere so heavy it felt like moisture might condense from the air.
The detectives looked defeated. They were running out of options, and many were already imagining the grim scene of discovering Sam's body.
Theodore wasn't ready to give up. He stared at the list of locations: the Mexican community, Rose Street, Old Gun Bar, Red Maple Street, and Longhorn Street, then stood up, preparing to speak directly with the patrol officers who worked those beats.
His movement immediately drew everyone's attention.
Wenner pointed at him with obvious hope. "You got something?"
Theodore showed them the street names in his notebook and said seriously, "Some things don't make it into the duty records."
Every detective in the Homicide Team had started as a patrol officer, and they understood immediately.
Duty records only documented the valid citations issued by patrolling officers each day, but only the officers themselves knew everything that actually happened on their beats.
Wenner immediately went to find Cahill, asking him to gather all the patrol officers from the relevant precincts.
The Patrol Department operated on three shifts, day, evening, and night, with weekly rotations cycling every three weeks.
Cahill was extremely cooperative and immediately called back officers from all three shifts. Those on evening patrol had just gotten home and hadn't even changed out of uniform when colleagues called them back to the station.
Wenner had no time to worry about their feelings. He gathered the patrol officers in the roll call room and repeated Theodore's conclusions directly.
After laying out the case, he asked if any of them had seen someone matching the description.
He'd expected maybe one or two responses at best, which would have made him ecstatic. Instead, after he finished speaking, most of them said they'd encountered the man.
Especially the patrol officers from Red Maple Street and Longhorn Street, across all three shifts, who said they'd seen him multiple times.
They also informed Wenner that it was Sam Latimer from the Homicide Team who had asked them to help delete that person's violation records.
Wenner then asked about the last time Carlos had appeared.
The patrol officers gave a consistent answer: ten days ago.
Theodore considered this timeline reasonable.
He suggested to Wenner that they focus their search on the precinct where Sam used to patrol, and also establish surveillance at Sam's residence.
"Carlos taking Sam's uniform was the beginning of his impersonation," Theodore explained.
"He'll follow the same pattern he used when impersonating his grandfather; he'll go to Sam's old precinct to patrol."
Wenner looked skeptical, and not just him; everyone in the Homicide Team had serious doubts about Theodore's theory.
They couldn't comprehend why Carlos would behave this way.
Shouldn't someone run after committing murder? Shouldn't they try to avoid capture?
Why would he follow this incomprehensible, seemingly absurd pattern? Wasn't this like walking straight into a trap?
Theodore couldn't explain to them that these were the personality traits of a serial killer.
These behavioral patterns were as distinct and unique as fingerprints, and profiling was the method used to identify these psychological signatures.
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