Part 53 (2/2)
”I didn't know what they needed it for ...”
”And these guys went out and raped this little girl,” says Edgerton, glaring at the suspect, ”and then they took her down the alley and shot her in the head, right?”
Dale shrugs. ”I don't know what they did with it.”
Edgerton looks at him coldly. ”What's your friends' names?”
”Names?”
”Yeah. They've got names, right? You lent them your gun, so you had to at least know who they were.”
”If I tell you that, then they're in trouble.”
”f.u.c.k yeah, they're in trouble. They're going to be charged with the murder, aren't they? But it's either them or you, Eugene, so what's the names?”
”I can't tell you.”
Edgerton's had enough. ”You're about to be charged in a death penalty murder case,” he says in a voice rising with anger, ”but you're not going to tell me the names of the mysterious friends who borrowed your gun 'cause it might get them in trouble. That's your story?”
”I can't tell.”
”Because they don't exist.”
”No.”
”You don't have any friends. You don't have a friend in the f.u.c.king world.”
”If I tell you, he'll kill me.”
”If you don't tell me,” shouts Edgerton, ”I'm going to put you on Death Row. Your choice ...”
Eugene Dale looks down at the table, then back at the detective. He shakes his head and raises his arms, a gesture of surrender, a plaintive appeal.
”f.u.c.k it,” says Edgerton, getting up again. ”I don't even know why I'm bothering with you.”
Edgerton slams the door to the large interrogation room, then greets his sergeant with a half-smile. ”He's innocent.”
”Oh yeah?”
”Yeah. Some friends borrowed the gun and then forgot to tell him they'd raped and killed a girl.”
Nolan laughs. ”Don't you just hate when that happens?”
”I swear I'm ready to hit this guy.”
”That bad, huh?”
Edgerton wanders into the coffee room for a fresh cup, but after five minutes, Eugene Dale has something more to say. He bangs loudly on the door, but Edgerton ignores him. Eventually, Jay Landsman comes out of his office to check on the racket.
”Detective, sir, can I have a word with you?”
”With me?”
”Yes, sir. That other officer won't listen to me and I ...”
Landsman shakes his head. ”You don't want to talk to me,” he says. ”The only thing I want to do is kick the living s.h.i.+t out of you for what you did to that girl. You don't-”
”But I didn't-”
”Hey,” says Landsman. ”If you want to talk to me you're gonna do it without teeth, you understand that? You're better off with the other detective.”
Dale retreats into the interrogation room as Landsman slams the door and walks back to his office, his day now considerably brighter than it had been.
Five minutes later, Edgerton returns to the hallway outside the interrogation room, now cool enough for one more sortie. As he opens the metal door, Kopera brushes past him on his way from the stairwell.
”It's a winner, Harry.”
”Way to be, Dr. K.”
”The striation is a little light, but I don't have any real problem.”
”Okay. Thanks.”
Edgerton slams the door behind him and lays it down for Eugene Dale one last time: A living rape victim who will identify him as well as the gun. A ballistics match to the murder weapon. And, oh yeah, those fingerprints all over the gun ...
”I'd like to tell you my friend's name.”
”Okay,” says Edgerton. ”Tell me.”
”But I don't know his name.”
”You don't know his name.”
”No. He told me but I forgot. But his nickname is Lips. He lives in West Baltimore.”
”You don't know his name, but you let him borrow your gun.”
”Uh-huh.”
”Lips, from West Baltimore.”
”That's what they call him.”
”What's the other guy's name.”
Dale shrugs.
<script>