I had what may just be my last call with Detective Daniel Cunningham, the most recent detective from the San Francisco Police Department working on Patty’s cold case. He guesstimated that it had been five years since we’d spoken. It had been seven. He’d forgotten what he’d already told me, so he repeated himself quite a bit. It seemed to me that he’d committed a script to memory, retelling me facts for the second time. Not that I’m passing judgement. Memories falter. It felt like a relief that he remembered her case at all. Disconcerting that he rehashed details that never sat well with me the first time around.
“It happened fast. She never knew what was coming.”
The second piece was comforting. But the first bit I took exception to. Strangulation doesn’t happen fast.
As we were nearing the end of our conversation, I asked if he was still in touch with Harold.
“It’s been almost a year.”
I wanted to know if he had asked Harold if he would be willing to speak with me. He stuttered before he spit out the next sentence.
“I can ask him again.”
It suggested to me that he never asked in the first place. I mentioned that I didn’t want to traumatize him by subjecting him to my questions about the murder itself. I wanted to know if he supported my efforts.
“I’m not family after all. I’ve struggled with the ethics of getting involved since I began.”
“I’m sure he supports your efforts.”
I immediately found myself plotting to take that statement and run with it, to take it as a permission slip to write whatever I wanted to about the family. My motive was never to exploit the family. Still, I had guilt. This felt like a way to alleviate it. What I’d been doing, been writing for the last ten years felt like over the line prying. We felt bonded like sisters. But weren’t related. So, it’s been a challenge sorting out what is and is not within my rights. I want to do the right thing, to be respectful. But doubt myself half the time.
“He knows as much as you do. A little bit more.”
Unfair, I thought.
“He’s actually found a type of closure.”
