“Bentz asked. He slid the computer-enhanced artist’s sketch across his desk to the girl, Sonja Tucker, seated on the other side. She’d filed a report early this morning that she’d been attacked late at night by a “guy in sunglasses,” and when Bentz had learned about it upon his return from the St. Pierre, he’d called and asked her to come back to the station, so here she was, looking nervous, a nineteen-year-old sophomore at Tulane University who was going to summer school and probably was lucky... to be alive today. “It could be,” she said, picking up the composite and studying it closely. She’d told the officer downstairs that she’d been on her way to a masquerade party last night. Dressed to look like a prostitute, she was waiting for the streetcar when a man had accosted her, propositioned her and hadn’t wanted to take “no” for an answer. He’d gotten pushy, tried to grab her and she’d responded by scratching him down the side of his face, then kicking off her high heels and running like hell through Audubon Park, hiding in some bushes near the zoo and learning the valuable lesson of life in the city.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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