James Ross - A Character-Based Collection (Prairie Winds Golf Course)

by James Ross

“What kind of a question is that?” Rico asked sounding agitated. “Where? On an athletic field? If that’s what you want, then yes. I used to box. I hurt some people in the ring.” Bazz looked at his biceps and tattoos on his forearms and did not doubt his word.

  “You have to understand that some of the questions we are going to ask might make you feel uncomfortable.” The questions with the yes answer were coming to an end yet they still wanted rapport with Rico to keep him talking.

  “Have you ever fired a gun?”

  “Yes, but what does that have to do with writing some bad checks?”

  “Within the last year?”

  “Yes.”

  Bazz sprung the next question. “Did you hear about Richard W. Richards getting shot and killed?”

  “Who?”

  “Richard W. Richards.”

  “No.”

  “Did you fire a gun that day when you killed him?”

  “Are you fuckin’ nuts?”

  “Look! You’re lying and we know it! We’re going to get another search warrant and get every shirt, pair of pants, jacket, and pair of shoes out of your house. If we find as little as one speck of blood on anything that matches the blood of Richard W. Richards your ass is going to die from the biggest damn needle you’ve ever seen.” Bazz flipped open a folder with 8 X 10 photos of a guy riding on a motorcycle. The driver wore jeans, boots, a plaid shirt and windbreaker. “We’ll be looking for that clothing in particular.”

  “You’re loco, man. I want a lawyer.”

  Lester J jumped back in to calm the situation. “Look, you are entitled to a lawyer, but once he arrives we cannot help you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look, we know someone hired you to kill Richard W. Richards. We want a name and we want you to agree to testify against them. If you do that we can take the death penalty off the table. You would get a lesser charge and maybe be out of prison in 10-12 years. If you’d rather take your chances then you might get life in prison or the death penalty.”

  Bazz was back at it. “I’ve seen three executions, Rico. It’s a real long needle that they shoot into you. It’s maybe ten inches long. After they strap you down they show it to you. All the people that are there to witness the execution get to see the needle too. All the other guys that I’ve seen die started crying and begging for their life. But by then it’s too late. Once that drug gets into your veins your eyes pop out. That’s why they put that blindfold over your face.”

  “However if you choose to cooperate,” Lester J said in an attempt to soothe the moment, “we can go to the prosecutor and tell him that you agreed to help us out. Trust me, that will go a long way to getting you some leniency. We have enough evidence on you to prove that you’re guilty. You’ve seen the motorcycle. You’ve seen the clothing on the driver. We know what you did. Now you can go save everybody some time and tell us what happened, where the gun is, and who paid you.”

  “Or you can get a lawyer and take your chances. Are you sure you want a lawyer right now?” Bazz added.

  Rico sat in silence and pondered his situation. He rubbed his hands together. “Can I have a soda and a cigarette?” His shoulders slumped as Bazz produced the flame and Lester J left the room to fetch a soft drink.

  After Lester J returned Rico had a change of heart and decided that he didn’t need a lawyer after all.

  However, Lester J and Bazz couldn’t break him. The questions continued into the morning. The detectives took turns. Sometimes one would be in the room and at other times the other. Once in a while both would be present. The room had no windows. No sense of time could be comprehended. Rico yawned. He grew tired. The monotonous voices, the passing hours, and lack of sleep were wearing him down.

  Finally at 6:42 a.m. Lester J said, “Rico, man, I really want to thank you for helping us out and answering all of these questions. I know it’s been a long night for you and we really appreciate what you’ve done for us.”

  “Make yourself comfortable for a few more minutes,” Bazz said. “We have to check in with our boss and then we’ll be back in to see you.”

  “Will I be able to leave?” Rico asked as he broke into a long yawn.

  “Sure, pretty soon. Are you sure you don’t want some more coffee or a soda?”

  After shaking his head Rico laid it down on the table seconds after they departed and drifted into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  When the door slammed shut a startled Rico jerked his head up off the table. A puddle of drool occupied the space where his head had been. There had been a few reasons why Lester J and Bazz wanted to pick Rico up after midnight. One was surprise. Two, they wanted to keep him all night with questioning. And three, they wanted to administer a polygraph test after the day crew got to work early in the morning. Outside the sun was on the horizon.

  “I’m Detective Ron Hawthorne.” A yawn escaped Rico’s mouth. “This is my partner, Detective Kenneth Jacobs. We’d like to apologize to you. Detectives Mullen and Basnahan had to leave. Their shift was over.”

  “Fine,” Rico responded. “They said I could leave.”

  “Yes, and we’re here to accommodate you on that,” Hawthorne said.

  “But we’d like to go over some of the details that you provided to them before we release you,” Jacobs followed. “We’ll make another tape.”

  “Am I going to have to answer questions again for the next five hours?”

  “Oh, no. It won’t be anything like that. We won’t keep you anywhere near that long,” Hawthorne explained.

  “We just want to confirm some of the statements that you made, you know, to clarify some details,” Jacobs said. “We weren’t here when you spoke with them.”

  “Do we have to now?”

  The tape recorder was turned on and the Miranda rights were read to Rico. The questions followed. Many were the same or a different version. Between yawns Rico provided little additional information. He was beat. Three hours later the interrogation stopped. It was now late morning, not too far from lunch time. Rico was operating on a minimum amount of sleep. His stomach rumbled for food.

  “Thanks again for helping.” Hawthorne got up and headed for the door. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  “So I can go home?”

  “We’ve got a few more things to do from a processing standpoint. We’re almost done with you.” The detectives led Rico upstairs, letting him use the restroom on the way. As a formality, Rico was fingerprinted after that. Then he was taken up another flight of stairs, down a hallway, and into a newer room that was brighter and more comfortable than where he had been.

  “Now what are we doing?”

  “I want you to meet Detective Barrett Anderson,” Hawthorne answered. “He’s going to administer a polygraph test.”

  “A lie detector?” Rico asked.

  “Yes,” Anderson replied as Hawthorne and Jacobs exited the room. He was dressed casually in Dockers and a golf shirt, looking clean-cut and affable. “This is for your benefit. It will verify that what you’ve told us is the truth.”

  Rico was tired and wanted to go home. He dropped into an easy chair after Anderson gestured with his hand. The chair was relaxing compared to the metal one he had been sitting on for what seemed like half a day. It didn’t take long for his eyelids to get heavy.

  Anderson told him to take several deep breaths and relax. He explained that one cord would monitor his breathing and that another one would be placed on his finger to record perspiration. “The last one is a cuff that goes around your arm to measure blood pressure and heart rate,” he added.

  “You guys go to every extent on a bad check charge, don’t you?”

  Anderson smiled. “The guys downstairs are conducting an investigation. They want to cover all bases before they let you go. That way you won’t have to come back.” He went to the polygraph machine that was sitting on the table and made some adjustments. “Now, look, we don’t want any questions to be a shock to you so we’ll go o
ver them first. There’s only going to be maybe a dozen of them. Some are going to be simple to establish a baseline. I want you to close your eyes during the exam, relax, and breathe slowly.” Anderson went to his desk and grabbed a deck of cards. He counted out ten cards and told Rico to grab one. “Now look at it.” Rico followed directions. “I’m going to show each card to you and ask if that is your card. I want you to answer no each time and I’ll be able to tell whether or not you’re lying.”

  Rico nodded. He was too relaxed to dispute the directions. However he was surprised a few minutes later when Anderson correctly identified the card that he had drawn out of the deck. He didn’t feel like he had tipped the card, but he was too tired to care. He simply wanted to get done with the questions and go home.

  “Okay, here we go,” Anderson said. Rico closed his eyes. The questions were basic. He was asked his name. He was asked his address and so on and so forth. Then Anderson asked, “Have you murdered anyone?”

  “No.” Rico continued with his deep breaths.

  “Have you received money for killing someone?”

  “No.” Rico yawned after this response.

  An abnormally long period of time elapsed. Rico snored and immediately awoke. “Did you get away on a motorcycle?”

  “No.”

  The questioning was over. The monotone voice of Anderson coupled with the heavy breathing and the long amount of time between questions had virtually rocked Rico to sleep. The detective turned off the machine and confronted Rico face to face. His friendly demeanor was suddenly transformed to that of a lunatic. “You are a true piece of shit!”

  Rico started to respond.

  “You can lie all you want to those other guys, but you can’t lie to me and this machine!” Anderson got to within two inches of Rico’s face. “Now tell me the truth you lying son-of-a-bitch!”

  Rico shrugged. He was too tired to care.

  “You’re disgusting!” Anderson backed off. He grabbed the polygraph machine and the print out. “Let’s go. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  Mullen and Basnahan were back in another interrogation room. If they had gone home, they didn’t stay away too long. The room was different from the first one that Rico had been in. This one had a window with reflective glass on one wall so others could watch his reaction as more questioning continued.

  Lester J started off amicably. “You’re still here?” he asked.

  “I should have left a long time ago,” Rico replied.

  “What happened?” Of course Lester J knew all along what had taken place.

  Rico went on to explain that he had been questioned some more and fingerprinted and hooked up to a lie detector. “Aren’t you guys going overboard on bad check charges?”

  Bazz exploded. “We’re conducting an investigation! We’ve got reason to believe that you have some information that can be valuable to us.” He put his hands on the table and leaned forward across the table so that his face was less than a foot from Rico’s. “Quit giving us you’re bullshit!”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re doing a good job of not telling us the full truth,” Bazz yelled. “Have you ever been to Gateway Salvage?”

  Rico shook his head back and forth. “No.”

  Bazz threw some photos onto the table. “These are from their security camera.”

  Lester J went next. “Did you chop up the bike and sell parts?”

  Rico shook his head.

  “I can’t hear you!”

  “No.”

  Bazz threw a picture on the table that showed Rico walking into the junk yard carrying two tires. “What’s this?”

  “Can’t a guy sell tires?”

  Bazz produced a receipt. “Two Honda motorcycle tires? Where did they come from?”

  “Where did you hide it?” Lester J asked.

  The questions were coming so fast that Rico could not answer them.

  “Do you know Raul Mendez?” Bazz asked.

  There was no response from Rico. He grabbed a cigarette and Bazz was there to light it. “Yes, I know Raul Mendez.”

  “He’s already told us what happened,” Lester J added.

  “He wouldn’t do that,” Rico replied.

  “Do you see that mirror?” Bazz asked as Rico acknowledged. “Raul is on the other side of it. We already know what role you played,” Bazz responded.

  “You were the triggerman. First degree murder. Death by lethal injection. You’ve got no way out,” Lester J followed, “unless of course you can fill in some of the blanks that we’re missing.”

  “You guys are guessing. I didn’t kill nobody.”

  “We can talk to the prosecutor and tell him that we’ve got a friendly participant in the crime and maybe give you some leniency. We went through that last night.”

  Rico listened.

  Bazz jumped in. “Second degree murder and twenty years sounds a helluva lot better than the biggest needle you’ve ever seen.” He paused. “Your eyes pop out.”

  “I didn’t kill nobody.”

  Lester J persevered. “Look again at that mirror. Raul is on the other side watching.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “The mother of his children wanted out of jail. She wanted out and she griped at him every day to make it happen,” Lester J paused to let the statement sink in. “We know your bike was at their home.”

  “Raul has told us everything,” Bazz followed. “Now get your ass up.” Rico stood, his heart thumping fast and hard. “Now walk over to that mirror and see if you can see through to the other side.”

  Rico followed instructions. He couldn’t see anything except his reflection. The mirror wouldn’t allow him to see through it anyway. Rico trembled and inched back to his seat.

  “Now are you ready to tell us what happened?” Bazz asked.

  “I didn’t kill nobody.”

  “I guess you’re not scared of needles.” Bazz mouthed with a smile. “From what I saw it only hurts for fifteen seconds.”

  “I didn’t kill nobody.” Rico’s breathing had become rapid.

  “Now is the time to save yourself,” Lester J urged. “Tell us what happened or you could be an accessory to murder.”

  “What do you want me to say?” As planned, the process had worn him down. He was dead tired.

  Chapter Eighty-Nine

  Bazz and Lester J were satisfied with their psychological victory. The former exited the interrogation room only to re-enter a minute later with a tray full of coffee and soda.

  “We’re going to do this for the last time,” Lester J started as he settled in directly across from Rico. “This is what happened.”

  Rico nodded. He was too tired to care; his eyelids practically shut.

  “You and Raul go way back.”

  Rico nodded. “We played baseball together since we were little kids.”

  “You two bailed on your team to stay in the States.”

  “Basilio too.”

  “Okay, Basilio too. All your paths went in different directions but you and Raul especially stayed in touch.”

  Rico listened.

  “Years ticked by. Raul gets a girlfriend, but he has a weakness for women.”

  “He’s a nice lookin’ guy. She went after him.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “He said this rich cougar was getting divorced and liked to… you know.” Rico clasped his hands together at the fingers and pounded the palms of his hands together. “She couldn’t get enough. She wouldn’t leave him alone.”

  “That’s right, she was a real nympho. But she had a problem, didn’t she?”

  “That she liked to….?” Rico clasped his hands again and pounded his palms together. He looked at Lester J.

  “Not that. She had a husband,” Lester J offered, “and a boyfriend.”

  “The husband wasn’t the problem,” Rico said. “The boyfriend was the problem. He wouldn’t leave her alone.” Rico sipped on soda. “Raul
said the boyfriend was going to cause problems in her divorce settlement. He would call her all the time, even when her and Raul were busy going at it.”

  “And she wanted him killed, didn’t she?”

  Rico nodded.

  “Say it!” Bazz yelled.

  Rico looked at him skeptically. He took another sip. “That’s what Raul said.”

  “Raul said that Shari Daniels-Donnelly wanted Richard W. Richards killed?” Bazz asked.

  Rico nodded again.

  “Say it!”

  “You’re going to believe what you want to believe,” Rico replied.

  Lester J and Bazz exchanged glances. “So what happened next was that she gave Raul some money.”

  “That’s what Raul said.”

  “And he didn’t have the cojones to do it himself so he recruited you. Isn’t that right?”

  Rico’s head slumped again. He nodded subtlety.

  “Say it!” Bazz screamed.

  “Yeah.”

  Lester J theorized. “So after you were contracted to kill the guy you had to plan it out. Several plans were considered but the one that you decided on was the one that had you steal the motorcycle from the farmer in Illinois. Isn’t that right?”

  Rico once again nodded.

  “But that created another problem, didn’t it?”

  “You had to hide it somewhere, didn’t you?” Bazz asked. “Where did you hide it?”

  Rico bit his lower lip. “Did Raul tell you?”

  “Of course he did,” Lester J bluffed. “And he told us how you chopped it up and disposed of the pieces.”

  “He got a storage bin in her name and I put it there.”

  Lester J and Bazz smiled at each other. “Where?”

  “Lock-it and Go. It’s out a ways.”

  “So when it came time to shoot him you got on the bike, waited for Richards to go through the intersection, and followed him into the commuter lot,” Lester J proposed.

  “You shot him and were gone in less than a minute,” Bazz added. “Isn’t that right?”

  Rico nodded.

  “Say it!”

  “Yeah.”

  “How much did Raul pay you?”

  “If he told you then you know how much?”