Zero Sum, Book One, Kotov Syndrome by Russell Blake Page A

sympathetic to the
situation, but given that the alarm hadn’t been activated and
nothing had been stolen, the actual teeth for a serious
investigation weren’t there. Everyone was horrified by the
viciousness of the crime, but at the end of the day it was a
B&E and cruelty to animals charge – not exactly murder
one.
    Jennifer was deeply shaken, and after
the police took her statement she adjourned upstairs and left them
to Steven.
    “Do you have any idea who might have
done this? An angry ex or disgruntled employee? Has anyone
threatened you?” Sergeant Matthews was courteous and efficient, but
clearly not the sharpest.
    “No. It’s the first time anything like
this has ever happened to me. I don’t know anyone who would do
something like this.” Steven considered telling him about the
website, but decided against it. What would the theory be? Steven
wanted to point the finger at Griffen, but even in his head
it sounded pretty stupid that a multi-millionaire Wall Street icon
would be butchering pets at a beach rental as retribution for
speculating that one of his companies was junk. That, and he didn’t
want to go on record as being the creator of the site. What would
be the point of going down that road?
    He did mention the Gas Company visit,
and the sergeant noted it, however, even as he uttered the words he
realized how idiotic his concerns sounded.
    “Okay then,” the sergeant ventured.
“You mentioned you had a software company, correct? Did you ever do
anything business-wise that might have come back to haunt
you?”
    Getting colder, colder.
    “No. I just don’t understand why anyone
would do this,” Steven said. “I mean, what kind of sadistic rat
fuck would cut a dog’s head off? And such a good dog, not a
mean-spirited bone in his body.”
    “I know, it’s a weird one, but it’s not
the first weird one around here during the season. Look, there are
a lot of oddballs in town, street people, crazies, kids high on all
kinds of wild shit. Summer brings them out of the woodwork. It’s
possible one of them got in somehow, or that it was some kind of
really fucked-up skinhead initiation, or a dare or something.” Poor
Sergeant Matthews, eyes glazing over even as he said it.
    Steven was becoming annoyed with all
the holes in the idiotic theory the cop was trying to force the
situation into fitting. “There’s no sign of a struggle, and no
blood anywhere but where he was hacked up.”
    “Good points.” The officer walked
towards the door, Steven following. “Let me offer some advice.
Change your locks, set your alarm, and be watchful for any odd
characters loitering around. The majority of destructive or
vandalism crimes don’t make a lot of sense, and most of the time we
get nothing like all the facts. This one is probably no exception.
It’s one of the frustrations we all have when something bad
happens. There are no resources to do a full-scale multi-day
investigation on something like this. I know that isn’t comforting,
but this week we’ll probably have fifty vandalisms, double that
many DUIs, a whole busload of B&Es, fights, assaults, two or
three rape charges per night, stabbings, hit-and-runs…you get the
picture.”
    Put like that, Newport Beach sounded
like Beirut.
    “Officer, I understand what you’re
saying, but–”
    “It’s Sergeant, Mr. Archer. Here’s my
card. We’ve dusted the entryways for prints, we’ve checked for
signs of forced entry, we’ve shot the crime scene, we’ve talked to
your neighbors. There isn’t a lot more we can do. Most of the time
these things are either someone you know, or a crazy. You don’t
know anyone who would do this, so that leaves crazy. If anything
comes up or you see anything suspicious, or if something occurs to
you you’ve left out, then call me.”
    Time to get out and handle real crime.
Dog butchering vs. drunken bar fight. Tough call.
    Steven could appreciate this was going
nowhere fast. It’s not like they could call in