The media feeding frenzy died down quickly. The story of Petrov’s perfidy hit the headlines and occupied the cable news pundits for a few days, then cooled and dropped out of sight. Things in Freedom soon returned to what passed for normal.
In due course, I found the District Attorney’s name on my call sheet. ADA Skip Wilder picked up my call. “I bet you were happy to see Petrov’s ass flying out of here.”
“His and those of the rest of his crowd.”
“We’re looking into that situation you asked us to.”
“Vlad Smirnik?”
“You were right.”
“How so?”
“His mother was the child of an American citizen born out of the country. He has a claim on citizenship. We’re preparing to argue on his behalf.”
“Thanks. He’s also going to need some help in relocating.”
“Witness Protection?”
“In case the Russians are holding a grudge.”
“I’ll check it out.”
“He cracked the case for us, Skip.”
“We understand.”
“Was that all?”
“Lytell wants to know more about the serial killings. More about the alleged perpetrator who was on your staff.”
“What does he want to know?”
“The full story.”
“Okay.”
“In Buddy-speak, what does okay mean?”
“He’ll have it.”
“When?”
“As soon as we can properly prepare it for his consideration. In the meantime, there’s a nationwide alert out for him.”
“And no further concerns regarding any more possible murders.”
“It hasn’t been proven that Farmer was the killer. There’s evidence that points to that conclusion, but until we can interview him, we have to regard the killings as ongoing and unsolved.”
“I’ll inform Lytell.”
“Thank you.”
Wilder was silent.
“May I assume this call is now over?” I asked.
“I suppose.”
“Your grudgingly solicitous attitude is duly noted.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Figure it out for yourself,” I said.
I hung up too quickly to hear his response.