Inside the Mind of BTK

110 INSIDE THE MIND OF BTK
bluff him and he knows it, then you’ve lost and you lose respect in
his eyes.”
“This guy isn’t mental,” I said. “But he is crazy like a fox. If he ever
got into trouble, he’d try and con someone into thinking he’s crazy.”
I glanced around the table. Hazelwood and Walker looked as spent
as I felt. We’d been going at it for nearly six hours. The detective who
had been furiously scribbling notes at the end of the table was kneading
his hand. I needed to get the hell out there and clear my head. I
could practically hear the ever-growing stack of paperwork on my
desk screaming for attention. I needed to get back to office.
“This thing is solvable,” I told the detectives from Wichita as I stood
up and put on my jacket. “Feel free to pick up the phone and call us if
we can be of any further assistance. You’re gonna nail this guy.”
Walking down the hallway to my office, I prayed to God I was
right. I prayed to God that I wasn’t just pumping sunshine up everybody’s
trousers. Because somewhere out there, BTK was waiting,
watching, and plotting.