Burke asked, “Is it okay with you if I sit down over here?”
Tammy nodded, her eyes on the floor.
Leigh watched Burke move to a straight-backed wooden chair across from Tammy. He was not slow, but he was deliberate. He wasn’t taking up all the oxygen in the room. He gave an almost imperceptible nod to the female officer against the wall before he took his seat. He leaned back, kept his legs from doing the usual manspreading, and clasped together his hands in his lap, making himself a study in non-intimidation.
One giant mark against Andrew. Detective Burke exuded professional competence. This was why Barbara Klieg had called him in. He would know how to help Tammy lay down the foundation of her story. He would know how to testify in front of a jury. Leigh could parry with him, but she wouldn’t be able to break him.
Not just a mark against Andrew, but a possible nail in his coffin.
Burke said, “I know Detective Klieg already explained this to you, but there are two cameras in this room, there and there.”
Tammy did not look to where he pointed.
Burke explained, “You can see the green lights mean they’re recording both video and audio, but I want to make sure that you’re all right with that. I will turn them off if you don’t want them on. Do you want them on?”
Instead of answering, Tammy nodded her head.
“I should ask, though, is it okay that we talk in here?” Burke’s voice was soothing, almost like a lullaby. “We could go somewhere more formal, like an interview room, or I could take you to my office, or I could take you home.”
“No,” she said, then quieter, “no, I don’t want to go home.”
“Would you like me to call a friend or family member?”
Tammy started shaking her head before he finished. She didn’t want anyone to know about this. Her shame was so palpable that Leigh pressed her hand to her chest, trying to keep her feelings in check.
“All right, we’ll stay here, but you can change your mind at any time. Just tell me you want to stop, or you want to go, and we’ll do whatever you say.” Burke was clearly in authority, but he was going out of his way to give her a sense of choice. He asked, “What should I call you—Tammy or Ms. Karlsen?”
“Ms.—Ms. Karlsen.” Tammy coughed around the words. Her voice was strained. Leigh could see the bruises around the woman’s neck were already starting to come up. Her face was obscured by her hair, but the photos taken during the rape-kit collection had been a study in devastation.
“Ms. Karlsen,” Burke confirmed. “Detective Klieg told me that you are a district manager for DataTel. I’ve heard of the company, of course, but I’m not quite sure what they do.”
“System logistics and telecom engineering.” Tammy cleared her throat again, but the rasp would not go away. “We provide data support for medium to small businesses needing microsystems, optics and photonics, and systems controls. I’m in charge of sixteen divisions across the southeast.”
Burke nodded like he understood, but the purpose of this line of questioning was to help remind Tammy Karlsen that she was a credible professional. He was signaling that he believed her story.
Burke said, “That sounds a lot more impressive than my job description. I bet you had to go to school for that.”
“Georgia Tech,” she said. “I have a master’s in electrical and computer engineering.”
Leigh hissed out a long sigh. She knew one of Octavia’s boxes would contain information from Tammy Karlsen’s social media, specifically anything to do with Tech’s alumni page. Tammy’s classmates were at that age of nostalgia, and there were probably ample posts about wild college years. If Tammy had a reputation as a woman who enjoyed drinking or sex, then Leigh could bring that out at trial, as if every woman didn’t have a right to enjoy drinking and sex.
Regardless, Andrew had probably earned a point in his favor.
The video played on as Burke engaged in more small talk. The jury would follow him off a cliff. His easy confidence was better than Valium. His voice never left the lullaby register. He looked directly at Tammy even though she never looked up at him. He was attentive, believing, and, above all, compassionate. Leigh could’ve run a checklist from the police manual on the proper way to interview a sexual assault victim. That a police officer was actually following it was a stunning revelation.
Burke finally got to the point of the interview. He shifted in the chair, crossing his legs at the knees. “Ms. Karlsen, I can’t begin to know how difficult this is for you, but if you feel like you can, would you please tell me what happened last night?”