By Steven Gore
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Additional resources for Act of Deceit: A Harlan Donnally Novel (Harlan Donnally 1)
He paused, reliving the moment. ” “Ninety-eight. He was in homicide back when Brown murdered Anna. Eddie’s daughter was in her third grade class. He used to drop her by Anna’s house on Saturday mornings for tutoring. She wouldn’t take any money for it. Not a nickel. ” Blaine closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “You should’ve seen Washington’s face when he looked at her body. ” Blaine looked back at Donnally and nodded. “Like a linebacker. And it only took him an hour to link the homicide to Brown.
I mean, it wasn’t like he was committing serious crimes. We may have charged him with burglaries a couple of times, but they were just aggravated trespassing. Breaking into businesses, usually corner markets, for a place to sleep and something to eat. County jail was no deterrent to loonies like him. And he’d get violent if he was locked up, like a caged animal. The Sheriff’s Department couldn’t protect him or protect other inmates from him, so the court kept putting him on probation. Then, when he stopped taking his meds and started acting out again, the cops up on Telegraph Avenue or at People’s Park would tie him up and haul him to the county shrink in Oakland to get dosed.
The final one, spoken with the bureaucratic authority that Donnally had learned to despise when he was at SFPD, was abrupt: “We’ve devoted all of the resources we can to this matter. ” Donnally had always wondered why careerists like Blaine were always ready to move on when it came to others’ suffering, but displayed the mechanical compulsiveness of psychotic hamsters when it came to their tennis forehand or their putting game. Perfecting those was worth a thousand frustrating weekends, while the Anna Keenans of the world weren’t worth even one.