The Lineup: The World's Greatest Crime Writers Tell the Inside Story of Their Greatest Detectives

“And you believe that about him too?” Amy said.

Susan looked at me and smiled.

“So far, so good,” Susan said.

RIDLEY PEARSON

Born in Glen Cove, New York, and raised in Riverside, Co

He has written nine novels set in and around Seattle featuring police detective Lou Boldt and forensic psychologist Daphne Matthews, and three about Sun Valley sheriff Walt Fleming. He has also written several stand-alone thrillers, including Never Look Back (1985), Blood of the Albatross (1986), and The Seizing of Yankee Green Mall (1987). Under the pseudonym Wendell McCall, he wrote three novels about Chris Klick: Dead Aim (1988), Concerto in Dead Flat (1999), and Aim for the Heart (1990). As Joyce Reardon, PhD, he wrote The Diary of Ellen Rimbauer: My Life at Rose Red (2003).

With humorist Dave Barry, he has written two very successful children’s series, one about Peter Pan, including Peter and the Starcatchers and Peter and the Shadow Thieves, and the other set in Never Land, begi

Pearson also plays bass guitar and sings with the Rock Bottom Remainders, a band made up of such successful authors as Amy Tan, Stephen King, and Dave Barry-a band that, according to Barry, “plays music as well as Metallica writes novels.”

Pearson divides his time between the Northern Rockies and Saint Louis.

LOU BOLDT

BY RIDLEY PEARSON

Boldt: First, for the record, I want to say emphatically that I’ve not committed any crime. I’ve agreed to talk without counsel. Anyone who knows any detective knows he would never speak without an attorney present, not to his own mother if she were accusing him of eating an extra piece of pie. But your accusation is a bit more serious than that, isn’t it? And for the record: my mother is dead. So’s my father. I have a sister, lives in central Washington. That’s what’s left of that part of my life. But anyway, I’m i

Define your relationship with Captain Philip Shoswitz, as well as with Detective John LaMoia.

Boldt: Define it? Have you got a few hours?

We have all the time you need, Lieutenant.

Boldt: First, can I make some observations, Sergeant Feldman? You and Dr. Hainer. I’m guessing you’re what, Sergeant? Forty-two? Dr. Hainer’s thirty-five, thirty-six? I imagine you slogged your way through beer and coeds and managed a bachelor’s degree in pub crawling. Same as any red-blooded kid. Dr. Hainer didn’t fare so well. He never left the bottle behind.

Let’s keep this to the investigation, shall we?

Boldt: If you don’t mind, it’s important to the people reviewing this interview that they understand the mind-set of those doing the interview. Very important to me. I’m trained in detection, Sergeant, same as you. And it’s important that we know each other. Dr. Hainer looks like a man born for graduate school. Probably lived off the parents’ checkbook for as long as possible. Maybe a few years too many. See his clothes? He’s worn that jacket a long time. There are stitch marks where he removed an emblem-a college or fraternity emblem, I’m guessing. The bloodshot eyes tell me the good doctor had a very late night last night, or was into something more destructive. The jaundice in those eyes suggests coke or alcohol. The gut he’s wearing tells me it’s booze. Coke would have left him a rail. And if I’m right, this destructive tendency is the result of marital problems. Note the tan line suggesting a missing wedding band. That’s recent, so I’m pretty sure it explains the pain behind the jaundice. I’ve been there, you see.

She left you, am I right? Possibly in part because you’re cheap. You haven’t bought yourself a new pair of shoes in what-two years? Same with the shirt. We’ve already discussed the coat. So I’m sorry for whatever you’re going through, Dr. Hainer, but I’m wondering if you’re fully qualified to judge my state of mind when your own is in question.

[Dr. Hainer excuses himself and leaves the room]

Feldman: That was hardly necessary.

Boldt: Unless you’re sitting where I am. Dr. Hainer’s report is going to play significantly in the review of this interview. His state of mind is critical to that review. I question his ability to assess me fairly. That’s all. I mean no disrespect.

For the sake of the tape, Dr. Hainer has left the room at… 10:37 a.m. Subject remains.

Boldt: For the sake of the tape: he looked a little queasy.

He has a personal matter to attend to. He’ll be back shortly.

Boldt: He’s going to have a smoke and recompose himself. He smokes menthols. Did you smell it? Half a pack a day, I think. And he has a problem with athlete’s foot-uses that spray stuff. It’s my nose. [subject points to nose] Best old-factory around. [subject laughs]

Let’s start with your relationship with Captain Shoswitz.

Boldt: My relationship? You make it sound as if we shower together. If you want to understand my closeness to Captain Shoswitz, then you have to understand my attraction to the job. It started with my father. He was a drunk. Your friend Dr. Hainer, who just beat a hasty retreat, he may find this useful. I’m laboring under some kind of daddy complex, which explains so much about me. We need him. Bring him back.

Your sarcasm is noted, Lieutenant Boldt, though I’m not sure it helps your case any.

Boldt: My case? That’s rich. My father had some brushes with the law. By “the law” I mean my uncle Victor. They called him Lightning. Lightning Boldt-get it? He was a blue, like you and me. Victor, I’m talking about. Not my father. He was a drunk. Plain and simple. The life of a drunk is plain and simple. Simple, and difficult, and tragic-which pretty much sums up dear old Dad. And by “brushes” I mean knock-down-drag-outs, where the two of them went at it like a pair of Irishmen. This typically followed my father getting into trouble, and my uncle Vic getting him out. Dad showed his thanks by offering his fists. Dad liked to hit. [subject makes a sucking noise between his teeth] Dad liked to hit whatever, whoever, was handy at the time. Ah-ha! Dr. Hainer returns. A glass of water to justify his absence. Yes, have a seat-we were just discussing my effed-up childhood and my relationship with my dad. Although he couldn’t relate to anything, so it’s a misnomer. Yes, by all means take a note. Write that down. It could prove incredibly important to my i