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Well, if that's the case, why doesn't anyone notice? Why do all the headlines read Normal Boy Kills Ten?"
"Think Ted Bundy," Rainie offered conversationally.
"Everyone thought he was a handsome, charming man. Only problem was that he raped and murdered young girls as a hobby. Oops."
"Exactly," Quincy said, and gave her an approving nod. Rainie found herself smiling back. The fed had warm blue eyes when he smiled like that dazzling, Paul Newman eyes.
"Still sounds like psychobabble to me," Sanders was harrumphing.
"The kids are murderers. End of story. The best solution is to lock them up and throw away the key."
"Age doesn't matter?" Quincy asked mildly. He was still looking at Rainie. Belatedly, they both returned their attention to the salad.
"Nope," Sanders said.
"If the kid is capable of doing the act, he's capable of paying the price."
Quincy shrugged, obviously less convinced. He stabbed another bite of salad, then surprised both Rainie and Sanders by saying, "Maybe. G.o.d knows I've seen some things." He paused.
"Some kids are dangerous," he said finally, more forcefully.
"Some of the youths I've interviewed probably are beyond all help, let alone our ability to imagine. But not all of them are like that. And our legal system is based on the philosophy that we'd let a hundred guilty men go free before sending one innocent man away. It seems clear to me, then, that we have an obligation to try to identify which youths are amenable to rehabilitation. Not to simply lump all offenders together, then ship them out of sight."
"Can you really help a kid who's committed murder?" Rainie asked curiously.
"Sometimes. The younger the child is, the better the chances. Also, attachment disorder is a range. Some of the kids I've interviewed represented the extreme end of the spectrum. To put it in Sanders's terms, they are "little freaking psychopaths." And I'll agree with him there it's safer for us all to lock those ones up and throw away the key." Quincy smiled dryly at the state detective. Then his voice dropped. He appeared more somber.
"However, that's not the case for all of our teenage offenders. As we discussed before, Officer Conner, ma.s.s murderers are not h.o.m.ogeneous.
Some of the school shooters were definitely more followers than leaders. They were troubled, they were vulnerable. They let themselves be manipulated into performing a violent act, because they were hurt and disturbed and didn't know how to deal with that. They did what they did, but afterward they also felt remorse and regret. I think these kids probably could be reformed. Given their ages, it seems a shame not to try."
"And if we're wrong and they kill again?" Sanders quizzed.
"You gonna be the one visiting the family's home to tell them how your failed science experiment murdered their wife, sister, mother? You gonna be the one on TV trying to explain why we thought it was such a great idea to let a known killer loose on society?"
Quincy gave him a faint smile.
"It happens. Some of our more prolific serial killers Kempner, for example are graduates of the juvenile system. Killed young. Were sentenced to rehabilitation. Came of age. Killed even more people."
"At times like this, I'm glad I don't have a kid," Sanders said.
Quincy finally sighed. He set down his fork and seemed to lose interest once and for all in the salad.
"Things are becoming more complicated," he murmured.
"Do you know we're now using our serial-killer profiling techniques in high schools?"
Rainie arched a brow. Sanders exclaimed more eloquently, "You're s.h.i.tting me."
"I s.h.i.t you not, Detective. In the wake of the recent shootings, several school districts have implemented 'student profiling." School administrators have a checklist of 'suspicious' behavior to use to evaluate each student's potential for violence. Things like animal cruelty, abusive language, writings containing graphic violence. A few
of our agents are now teaching cla.s.ses in behavioral science and psychological profiling to teachers."
"What happens if a student is profiled as potentially dangerous?"
Rainie asked with a frown.
"Do they call' the cops, pat him down, and confiscate his video games?"
"Most districts have a policy to notify the parents, then the student can be sent to counselors or be expelled. It's being taken quite seriously."
"So were the Salem witch trials."
"Yes, but the witches never killed thirteen people. Schools are under pressure. Three years ago Princ.i.p.al VanderZanden rejected the notion that a shooting could happen here. How much do you want to bet he's regretting it now? And if the school board hears of profiling next week, how much do you want to bet your teachers will be searching for future homicidal maniacs in between grading papers?"
They all grew silent. Sanders shook his head.
"Man, I could not be a teacher," he said vehemently.
"I see two to four homicides a week, nice fresh kills, and still the thought of what's going on inside the cla.s.sroom scares me to death.
Half of these teachers are being bullied and hara.s.sed by their own students, and now they're supposed to actively wonder which little boys are cold-blooded killing machines. Yeah, they'll sleep well at night."
Rainie shrugged.
"Teachers should be used to it by now. When was the last time the PTA called for better parenting? It's always the school's fault. No matter what happens, my G.o.d, why aren't schools doing a better job of raising our kids?"
Quincy smiled dryly.
"Spoken as two people who don't have children."
"I wonder what did it for Danny O'grady," Sanders mused out loud.
"He doesn't seem so different from the other school shooters to me..
Bit of a loner, spends all his time in a computer lab, and can't cut it on the football field. I haven't found a teacher yet who knows of any close friends. Then you throw in the fact that his father seems to have a G.o.d complex, his parents are fighting all the time, and little Danny pretty much cut his teeth on a hunting rifle h.e.l.l, maybe profiling would've saved the school from him. Seems like it was only a matter of time."
Quincy shook his head.
"I don't think profiling would've identified Danny O'grady. He was a good student, polite with his teachers, diligent in his studies. We've heard no stories of torturing pets and not even a fascination with fire. Danny is angry. But there's still no evidence that he's homicidal."
"Oh, the kid did the deed," Sanders said confidently.
"Conner caught him red-handed with the murder weapons, and he's confessed twice. Case closed. Now we just got to wrap everything up before this whole frigging town explodes. Redneck a.s.sholes. There oughtta be an IQ requirement for owning a gun."
Rainie didn't say anything. It was after nine-thirty, the diner was nearly empty, and in spite of Sanders's big words, they all appeared pensive.
"Food for thought," Quincy said in the hushed solitude of the restaurant, wiping his hands on his paper napkin and getting ready to stand.
"All of the school shooters craved notoriety. They walked openly into their schools and pulled out their guns in plain sight. They wanted their cla.s.smates to know it was them. They wanted full recognition of their vengeance. But Danny O'grady managed not to be seen by a single person. In fact, one of the teachers claimed the shots were fired from within the computer lab, as if the killer was deliberately seeking to remain unnoticed."
"He panicked, he was scared," Sanders said.