Chapter 24 Chapter Twenty-Four

I was thinking of Deborah when the phone rang. "Did you watch TV?" she said on the phone. "I'm about to throw up." "Excellent press conference, isn't it?" I paused to think about it, and then asked her, "Tell me, is your reputation ruined all of a sudden, sister?" "Dexter, I'm tired. I've never been so angry in my life." "Let me ask you, are you ashamed and discredited in the police station as my father said before his death? Has your professional reputation been tarnished? Has everyone doubted you?" He threw out a series of questions like a cannonball.

"Are you saying LaGuerta is backstabbing me, saying my breasts are the size of Einstein's head? My professional reputation is as bad as shit, and not caring is worse." It was beyond my expectation. "Because I'm who I am, Dexter. If I go down another level, I'll have to go to the police station and make coffee for customers. What should I do?" I closed my eyes and leaned back against the back of the chair. "I think you should probably go public -- tell everybody -- and say that LaGuerta is dead wrong and that another murder is about to happen. You can pick a few convincing ones from your own findings. The reason. Although you will become a laughing stock temporarily, but believe me, this is only temporary."

"I'm already the butt of everyone's laughing stock. It's nothing to be surprised about. But what's the reason?" Deborah said wearily. "That guy admitted it himself. I don't believe I'm wrong , but he admitted it. Fuck it. Maybe we gotta let it go, Dexter." "You're just so unsure," I said, "she's got the wrong guy, Deborah. There's no doubt Darryl Earl McHale isn't the real murderer. Now you have to rewrite that. The wrong political science textbook." "Of course I would, but so what?" "Even if you're right, so what? If I were the murderer, I'd realize it's all over now, a hapless guy was caught and the police let it go. Why don't I wash my hands ? Or run away to another place and resume your old career?"

"That's impossible," I said, "you don't understand this guy at all." "I'm not a murderer, and it's normal not to understand. Then why do you know him so well?" I was shocked, I couldn't tell her the truth, so I changed the subject on purpose, "He will definitely stay here and continue to kill people. He will definitely let the police see what he is capable of. Stupid police put Darry Earl, a fool like that, he'd laugh at the police." Deborah smiled. "We insulted him too. Deborah, we owe his masterpiece to Darryl Earle, an uncultivated, mentally retarded, rustic imbecile. under their noses. Maybe it will lead to something bigger."

"You mean he's going to kill a big whore this time?" "Deborah, I mean the next murder is going to be more astonishing, more sensational. The stakes are up, Deborah. We pissed him off, we insulted him, and that will certainly be reflected in the next murder." "How would he escalate his tactics? Like burying victims alive." "I can't say for sure," I admitted. "But you will certainly reflect it." "That's right," I said. "Excellent," she said. "Now I know how to see the doorway."