Thirty-Five
A FEW MINUTES LATER Gladys joins us in the observation room. Joanna, no longer the confident young woman brought in earlier, is writing on a yellow legal pad Gladys gave her before she left.
“She’s writing her statement now, Chief,” Gladys says.
Helen towers over her, hands on her hips. “Gladys Louise Finklestein, I have two things to say to you. First, don’t you ever go off and interview a suspect or witness without running it by me first. Do something like that again, and I’ll fire you myself. Second,” at this point she breaks out in a smile, “great job.”
Gladys grins. “Thanks, Chief. When you couldn’t crack her, I decided I had to try. The more I looked at her, the more I saw myself a few years ago—maybe I still am her, I don’t know. I knew I could get her to open up if
