You Can’t Stop Me by Max Allan Collins, Matthew Clemens

evidence ourselves,” Harrow said, “or at private labs we trust, like Chris’s employer, Shaw and Associates.”
    Choi was frowning, his expression close to pissed off. “Would these UBC SOB’s tamper with evidence?”
    Harrow shook his head. “I don’t believe they would, Billy. But it will be better if we can keep the situation from arising. I believe we can address any attempt to have us hold back evidence—”
    “Like for sweeps week?” Choi said, only half kidding.
    “Like for sweeps week,” Harrow said. “We can head that off by getting the lawyers involved. Obstruction of justice trumps ratings, every time.”
    Laurene seemed satisfied with Harrow’s take on the network situation. “Okay,” she said. “Then I have another question, J.C.”
    “I’m not surprised,” Harrow said patiently.
    “If… when …we catch this killer—who has jurisdiction?”
    “We’ll see about that when we know more,” Harrow said. “Let’s catch the bastard first, then we’ll worry about who gets to try him. Certainly we’ll be cooperating with state and local, and sharing any glory.”
    Shaking his head, Pall said, “Nobody’s ever attempted anything like this before, J.C. But you know as well as any of us…if you were this asshole’s lawyer? You would say you couldn’t get a fair trial anywhere in the United States.”
    All eyes were on Harrow.
    Pall went on: “A top-rated TV show used its hunt for him as a ratings boost? Think there’ll be twelve licensed drivers anywhere in the country that won’t be prejudiced against this guy once we do catch him?”
    Harrow put up his hands in surrender. “I’m the first to admit I haven’t thought of everything involved here. Maybe I got blinded by finally seeing a pinpoint of light, after years of darkness.”
    And as far as the network and Dennis Byrnes were concerned, Harrow had known when he signed on that he was inking a deal with the devil. Now, he just hoped he wouldn’t get tripped up by the fine print.
    “First, let’s find the guy,” he told them. “Let’s stop him and expose him, and trust that matters like jurisdiction and fair trials don’t trip us up.”
    Laurene said, “These are dark waters, J.C. Choppy too.”
    “I know. But I couldn’t ask for a better crew to help make the voyage.”
    Choi grunted a laugh. “Good thing I know how to swim.”
    Harrow said, “Just so you don’t jump overboard on me, Billy…. Maury, turn the camera back on, and let’s get down to work.”

Chapter Eleven
    The motel room was dark, the flimsy, filmy curtains pulled tight against the fading afternoon sun as the Messenger kicked back on the bed, thin pillows piled behind his head as he watched the national news on UBC.
    Outside, what passed for rush hour in Socorro, New Mexico, was under way, which meant maybe ten cars on the street, not five. Still, with only nine thousand souls, Socorro was still way bigger than his own hometown.
    Made him wonder—if the rights of people could be so blatantly trampled on in a little town like his, with no repercussions, how could people’s rights ever be protected in a town twenty-five times the size? Or in a really big city, like New York or Chicago? Possibilities for corruption there were mind-boggling.
    That thought only served to reinforce why his work was so important—why he needed to keep leaving messages around the country, until someone was smart and capable enough to understand their importance.
    Sad that he’d had to go the way he had, but he needed help, and the normal routes for gaining assistance had paid him no heed. The messages he was delivering seemed the only reasonable way to recruit the help he so desperately required.
    On the tube-television screen, Carlos Moreno was doing a satellite interview with J.C. Harrow, host of Crime Seen!
    “Has anything like this ever been attempted, J.C.?”
    Outdoors in what seemed to be Southern countryside, Harrow—in a corny Robert Stack-style