"Public Information Officer."
"Oh," David said. "I see." He heard the hard fricatives of Jenkins cursing behind him. Dalton had a hand hooked around his neck in a half hold, half embrace. "I think it's important that we all keep our heads in the middle of this," David added.
The evenness of Yale's stare was unsettling. "Jenkins is just a patrolman," he said. "Dalton and I are detectives. It's under control."
"I'd just… the mood in the ER… " David drew a deep breath, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. "I don't think any of us want things to turn ugly."
"I believe they already have, Dr. Spier."
"In our professions, it doesn't do us any good to give in to hatred."
"You don't know anything about my job. I'd suggest you refrain from proffering advice about it." Yale's upper lip curled slightly. The first sign of anger. Fair enough-David hadn't realized how condescending his words were until they were out of his mouth.
He tried to proceed more cautiously. "I know this is the kind of liberal bullshit you hate to hear, but the man we're dealing with may even be aware of the fact he needs help. Have you considered that? You could use that information somehow to catch him. He's targeting people right outside the ER, feet away from the treatment and care they need. Subconsciously, maybe he doesn't want them to get hurt."
Yale tossed the unopened In-N-Out bag at a trash can a good five yards away and hit it dead center. "If he didn't want people to get hurt," he said, "he wouldn't throw Drano in their faces."