“Don’t ask me to go back inside.”
He pursed his lips, and said, “When the time comes, I won’t be asking.”
He was quiet, and then he said, “I’ve got a confession. You were right about me. I have access to this city’s entire surveillance network. And sometimes, I look a little longer than I have to. I don’t know why; I’m just a dirty voyeur I guess. But I tell myself – maybe I lie to myself - that it connects me to people. I do good work, George. I’ve got a wife and two kids. My buddies call me the boy scout, because I take the police motto seriously – to serve and to protect. And I’ve got the scars to prove it. Maybe I’m kidding myself. Maybe when I watch the surveillance feeds on my personal time, I’m a different person than the guy who puts his neck on the line for folks who could care less. But that other guy still matters.”
I said, “Are you trying to tell me something about myself?”
“I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you, but you’re not the Berm Butcher.”
“I know.” I paused. “I’d like to help your investigation. Someday, I’d like to trust you.”
Balder nodded, and stood up.
As he left, he said, “I guess that’s all I can ask for.”