there, staring at me helplessly, I pick up a dull Swiss Army knife and hack off her fingers one by one. Then her ears. Then her nose. And then, then I cut out her beating heart. I'll do it someday, Difford. And when I do, I'll mail her heart to you.
LIEUTENANT RICHARD HOULIHAN walked to the front of the debriefing room and shut off the film projector. At his signal the lights came back on and sixty-five police officers and federal agents blinked owlishly. The room held the largest task force Massachusetts had ever seen. The second largest task force had been assembled two and a half years ago for the same purpose — to find former police officer and serial killer Jim Beckett.
“Now you know what we're up against,” Lieutenant Houlihan said without preamble. “Jim Beckett has always prided himself on his superior intelligence, and last week he demonstrated again what he can do. At nine A.M. two corrections officers escorted Beckett from 10 Block at Walpole to the Multipurpose Room where he had signed up for time to conduct legal research. The corrections officers had followed proper protocol — Beckett's hands were cuffed behind his back, his legs were shackled, and they were with him at all times. Yet somehow he managed to slip free of the cuffs — we believe he may have fashioned a homemade lock pick — and the minute they entered the Multipurpose Room he turned on the two officers. In two minutes he beat both men to death with his bare hands. One officer managed to activate the red alarm on his radio. When Walpole's security officers descended upon the room ninety seconds later, they found Beckett's handcuffs and leg shackles on the floor and two dead men — one missing his uniform and radio. Immediately all units were locked down, the lieutenant in charge issued a red alert, and a full-fledged search began. Somehow in this time period Beckett entered central command dressed as the guard. In full sight of the main facilities he knocked out the lieutenant and sergeant running central command, seized the master key, and unlocked the system, opening all cell doors and blocks.
“In the ensuing prison riot, Beckett simply walked away, still dressed as a corrections officer. It took eight hours to determine that he was missing.
“An eight-hour headstart. Nobody has seen him since.
“I won't lie to you, people. The weeks ahead will be the toughest weeks of your career. The Walpole's IPS [Inner Perimeter Security] Team searched the immediate area for forty-eight hours. They called in the town, county, and state police for support. The National Guard helped search for Jim Beckett. Nothing. The state's Fugitive Squad took over from there. For the last week they have combed Beckett's old neighborhoods, quizzed former associates, and turned the state upside down. The man has no remaining family other than his ex-wife and daughter, no community ties, and no friends. In the NCIC a national warrant has been listed for the man without results. In short, the Fugitive Squad found no leads and now it's up to us.
“You will work harder than you've ever worked, under more pressure than you've ever felt. The governor is watching this case. The state police colonel will receive daily briefings. Some of you have been through this before. Some of you were part of Task Force 22, assembled two and a half years ago also to catch Jim Beckett. That time he eluded capture for six months, then finally surfaced inside the house we were supposed to be protecting. Theresa Beckett almost died that night, and that, people, was our fault.
“In this room we have three task forces assigned to cover three eight-hour shifts. Do not think that because your shift is up you will simply go home. This case is front-page news — the crime hotline is currently logging two
thousand
calls a day. You do not leave until the leads generated on your shift have been recorded, classified appropriately, and followed up as indicated. Friday night Beckett
LIEUTENANT RICHARD HOULIHAN walked to the front of the debriefing room and shut off the film projector. At his signal the lights came back on and sixty-five police officers and federal agents blinked owlishly. The room held the largest task force Massachusetts had ever seen. The second largest task force had been assembled two and a half years ago for the same purpose — to find former police officer and serial killer Jim Beckett.
“Now you know what we're up against,” Lieutenant Houlihan said without preamble. “Jim Beckett has always prided himself on his superior intelligence, and last week he demonstrated again what he can do. At nine A.M. two corrections officers escorted Beckett from 10 Block at Walpole to the Multipurpose Room where he had signed up for time to conduct legal research. The corrections officers had followed proper protocol — Beckett's hands were cuffed behind his back, his legs were shackled, and they were with him at all times. Yet somehow he managed to slip free of the cuffs — we believe he may have fashioned a homemade lock pick — and the minute they entered the Multipurpose Room he turned on the two officers. In two minutes he beat both men to death with his bare hands. One officer managed to activate the red alarm on his radio. When Walpole's security officers descended upon the room ninety seconds later, they found Beckett's handcuffs and leg shackles on the floor and two dead men — one missing his uniform and radio. Immediately all units were locked down, the lieutenant in charge issued a red alert, and a full-fledged search began. Somehow in this time period Beckett entered central command dressed as the guard. In full sight of the main facilities he knocked out the lieutenant and sergeant running central command, seized the master key, and unlocked the system, opening all cell doors and blocks.
“In the ensuing prison riot, Beckett simply walked away, still dressed as a corrections officer. It took eight hours to determine that he was missing.
“An eight-hour headstart. Nobody has seen him since.
“I won't lie to you, people. The weeks ahead will be the toughest weeks of your career. The Walpole's IPS [Inner Perimeter Security] Team searched the immediate area for forty-eight hours. They called in the town, county, and state police for support. The National Guard helped search for Jim Beckett. Nothing. The state's Fugitive Squad took over from there. For the last week they have combed Beckett's old neighborhoods, quizzed former associates, and turned the state upside down. The man has no remaining family other than his ex-wife and daughter, no community ties, and no friends. In the NCIC a national warrant has been listed for the man without results. In short, the Fugitive Squad found no leads and now it's up to us.
“You will work harder than you've ever worked, under more pressure than you've ever felt. The governor is watching this case. The state police colonel will receive daily briefings. Some of you have been through this before. Some of you were part of Task Force 22, assembled two and a half years ago also to catch Jim Beckett. That time he eluded capture for six months, then finally surfaced inside the house we were supposed to be protecting. Theresa Beckett almost died that night, and that, people, was our fault.
“In this room we have three task forces assigned to cover three eight-hour shifts. Do not think that because your shift is up you will simply go home. This case is front-page news — the crime hotline is currently logging two
thousand
calls a day. You do not leave until the leads generated on your shift have been recorded, classified appropriately, and followed up as indicated. Friday night Beckett
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