principal. When she shook his hand, her breasts wobbled
pleasingly beneath her shirt. It was obvious that she was voluptuously endowed
despite the great pains she took to hide it.
‘A prude perhaps?’ Detective
Baltimore thought. Maybe the whole child molestation thing was just the
over-active imagination of a spinster who feared her own sexuality and was
suspicious of any type of intimacy between men and women. He hoped not. If he
could tie Cozen into a motive like this he was certain he could use it to
squeeze a confession out of him. Shit, he wouldn’t need a confession to get a
conviction. If he could prove that Reed Cozen molested his own daughter he
wouldn’t need a shred of evidence to convict him for the murders. The jury’s
revulsion would guarantee that bastard a lethal injection. The only thing that
bothered him was that the coroner had found no evidence of rape or sexual
assault on either of the two kids and only on the mother. But rape didn’t
always mean penetration. Detective Baltimore knew there were any of a number of
things a pervert could do to a young kid that wouldn’t bruise or tear the
vaginal walls or the rectum. The detective’s stomach lurched at the thought of
it.
He was led into the vice principal’s
office where he took a seat on a leather couch across from a huge pine desk
that had been stained a dark brown to resemble oak.
“What can we do for you, Detective?
Of course, we heard about the murders and we’ve all been racking our brains
trying to remember if we saw anyone suspicious hanging around after school
looking like they were, you know, stalking the children. But, so far, no one
can remember seeing anything out of the ordinary.”
Detective Baltimore turned his
attention to Ms. Lamb.
“I understand that you once took
Jennie Cozen to the Department of Human Services to see an abuse counselor. May
I ask why?”
“Well, Detective, she was called to
my office repeatedly for cursing and extremely inappropriate sexual language
and behavior.”
“Behavior?”
“Yes. Grabbing little boy’s penises,
grabbing girls between their legs and on their backsides, making comments about
her own sexual prowess. In short, we believed that this type of premature and
somewhat oversexed behavior was consistent with what we have seen in children
who have been sexually abused.”
“And on the basis of this you took
her to see an abuse counselor?”
“Not only that. One day she was
called to my office for pulling up her dress and showing her breasts to the
boys in her class. When I called her into my office she said that they had just
developed and she was proud of them and wanted to show them off. It was simply
the last straw and I had to suspend her. When her father came down to pick her
up . . . the way she kissed him . . ...”
“You mean he used his tongue?”
The vice principal blushed.
“No . . . uh . . . not exactly. It
was the way she draped her arm around his neck and he slipped his arms around
her waist and they kissed right on the lips. You kind of got the impression
that if they weren’t in public he would have French kissed her and when
they talked to each other it was more like husband and wife than father and
daughter. I mean, she spoke to him like he was another one of her little
playmates. No respect at all. It was just unnatural. Even when they left she
wasn’t just holding his hand she was hugging it to herself the way newlyweds
do. I know it sounds like I’m over-reacting, but it just all started to add up.
Even Tom here noticed it. As soon as they left, we just looked at each other
and we knew something about that wasn’t proper. You would’ve had to see it. It
was almost lewd.”
“Thank you for your time, Miss Lamb.
You have been most helpful.”
The principal finally spoke up after sitting
there quietly and letting Anna Lamb have her say.
“She’s right, you know. I was here and I saw it.
She’s not just making this up. If you had been here and had
pleasingly beneath her shirt. It was obvious that she was voluptuously endowed
despite the great pains she took to hide it.
‘A prude perhaps?’ Detective
Baltimore thought. Maybe the whole child molestation thing was just the
over-active imagination of a spinster who feared her own sexuality and was
suspicious of any type of intimacy between men and women. He hoped not. If he
could tie Cozen into a motive like this he was certain he could use it to
squeeze a confession out of him. Shit, he wouldn’t need a confession to get a
conviction. If he could prove that Reed Cozen molested his own daughter he
wouldn’t need a shred of evidence to convict him for the murders. The jury’s
revulsion would guarantee that bastard a lethal injection. The only thing that
bothered him was that the coroner had found no evidence of rape or sexual
assault on either of the two kids and only on the mother. But rape didn’t
always mean penetration. Detective Baltimore knew there were any of a number of
things a pervert could do to a young kid that wouldn’t bruise or tear the
vaginal walls or the rectum. The detective’s stomach lurched at the thought of
it.
He was led into the vice principal’s
office where he took a seat on a leather couch across from a huge pine desk
that had been stained a dark brown to resemble oak.
“What can we do for you, Detective?
Of course, we heard about the murders and we’ve all been racking our brains
trying to remember if we saw anyone suspicious hanging around after school
looking like they were, you know, stalking the children. But, so far, no one
can remember seeing anything out of the ordinary.”
Detective Baltimore turned his
attention to Ms. Lamb.
“I understand that you once took
Jennie Cozen to the Department of Human Services to see an abuse counselor. May
I ask why?”
“Well, Detective, she was called to
my office repeatedly for cursing and extremely inappropriate sexual language
and behavior.”
“Behavior?”
“Yes. Grabbing little boy’s penises,
grabbing girls between their legs and on their backsides, making comments about
her own sexual prowess. In short, we believed that this type of premature and
somewhat oversexed behavior was consistent with what we have seen in children
who have been sexually abused.”
“And on the basis of this you took
her to see an abuse counselor?”
“Not only that. One day she was
called to my office for pulling up her dress and showing her breasts to the
boys in her class. When I called her into my office she said that they had just
developed and she was proud of them and wanted to show them off. It was simply
the last straw and I had to suspend her. When her father came down to pick her
up . . . the way she kissed him . . ...”
“You mean he used his tongue?”
The vice principal blushed.
“No . . . uh . . . not exactly. It
was the way she draped her arm around his neck and he slipped his arms around
her waist and they kissed right on the lips. You kind of got the impression
that if they weren’t in public he would have French kissed her and when
they talked to each other it was more like husband and wife than father and
daughter. I mean, she spoke to him like he was another one of her little
playmates. No respect at all. It was just unnatural. Even when they left she
wasn’t just holding his hand she was hugging it to herself the way newlyweds
do. I know it sounds like I’m over-reacting, but it just all started to add up.
Even Tom here noticed it. As soon as they left, we just looked at each other
and we knew something about that wasn’t proper. You would’ve had to see it. It
was almost lewd.”
“Thank you for your time, Miss Lamb.
You have been most helpful.”
The principal finally spoke up after sitting
there quietly and letting Anna Lamb have her say.
“She’s right, you know. I was here and I saw it.
She’s not just making this up. If you had been here and had
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